#relationships just stress me out man i got enough on my plate w just me

[sunjaesol]

juke | human au | title: fearless // taylor swift

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As they were walking up the front lawn of her childhood home, nerves wrecked her body. Even her hand, snug in Luke's, felt clammy and sweaty and suffocating. God, this was such a mistake — going home, not him. He didn't even realise what he had gotten himself into by falling for the youngest darling of the matriarch.

Or rather, she shouldn't have fallen head over heels for the swoon-worthy Luke Patterson, but she never really stood a chance.

But everything had happened so fast! One second banter easily flowed between them, warm and easy flirtatiousness without consequences, the next she was at IKEA helping him pick out a bookshelf while he somehow knew whenever she needed pizza and a good cuddle. They were very much in a committed relationship, something the Molina women very much frowned upon.

It wasn't as if they were all deeply scared of love and relationships, but the Molina family was a matriarchy. All women raised families on their own, no man to help. Divorced, cheated on, died, a donor, infertile and therefore adopting children — men were of zero priority.

So, coming home with her boyfriend whom she deeply loved? Definitely a risk. She was surprised he was still standing, that she hadn't scared him enough yet.

Spinning on her heels in front of the door, she shot him an anxious smile. "Are you... sure you wanna do this? We're, like, really intense."

Luke smiled, tender. "Do I wanna meet the family of my girlfriend? 'Course I do." When her expression didn't change, he added, "Jules, just 'cause they all did the 'no guy' thing, doesn't mean you have to follow that, right? And I'm not scared."

Oh, God. His courage was as admirable as it was stupid.

She chuckled, antsy. "You haven't met my mom though."

His smile widened as he dipped down to kiss her, gently, hands caressing her cheeks. For a moment, stress fled her system.

But then the door flew open.

"There you are!" Mom exclaimed, a glass of red wine in one hand and music booming over her shoulder. "And is this the boy toy?"

"Mom!" Julie grumbled, embarrassed to be caught kissing (God, she's twenty-three!) as well as putting Luke in a bad position.

First impression of him: seeing him kiss her beloved daughter on the doorstep. Great.

"Hi," Luke said, dazzling her with a smile while he stuck his hand out. "I'm Luke. And I'm, uh, older? So..."

"Meh," Rose trailed, lamely shaking his hand. "Still a boy toy. Anyway, come in! Food's warm!"

Following her mom inside, Luke shot her a strange look, like it was only registering now all her tall tales were, well, true. Shrugging with a sheepish grin, she placed their shoes and jackets in the wall closet and then made the agonising trek to the loud, jumbled chatter.

As expected, all the California-based Molina women were present. Which meant ten, including her, all staring at Luke like he was a weird specimen. Her hand squeezed his beneath the table in support, and he was finally squeezing back just as tightly.

Was it bad she felt some sick pleasure he understood how fucked he was? Probably. It seemed warranted.

When everyone had their plates filled, the interrogation began.

"So, Luke, how old are you?" Victoria asked.

"Twenty-five."

"Going around town with a twenty-three year old?" She sniffed. "Interesting..."

"Do you have any siblings?" Donna inquiried.

A wry grin ticked up his lips, sensing the irony of the situation. "I, uh, I'm an only child, actually. Mostly raised by my dad, 'cause my mom worked long hours."

Shoving a fork of meatloaf in her mouth, Julie withheld a guttural wince at his words. Luke Patterson was the poster child of everything the Molina's didn't like and she brought him in their cave.

"What do you do for a living?" Abuela croaked, peering intensely.

His smile didn't falter, but instead widened. "I'm in a band, but I also bartend a couple of nights a week."

"A band, huh?" Mom leaned forward, intrigued. "Has Julie told you I used to be in a band?"

"How can I not, mom?" Rolling her eyes, Julie added, "You'd tell him anyway..."

"I was in The Petal Pushers, the best protest punk-rock feminist group of the 90s." Her fist punched in the air as she spoke and Julie could imagine the fingerless leather gloves and purple streaks as she did. "What kinda... band do you have?"

Her endearing Luke didn't read the warning signs humble himself, so he enthusiastically perched himself at the end of his chair as he said, "Punk-rock too, actually! Yeah, we're really killing it right now at all the clubs."

She smirked. "I'm sure you do."

"What are your plans with Julie?" Elena asked, one of her cousins.

Both her and Luke froze at that. Shit. That... was not something they've discussed. A relationship of seven months was still pretty fresh, not ready for a confrontational talk about futures and plans.

He scraped his throat, briefly let his gaze flicker to her, and then uttered, "I'm, uh, a one day at a time kinda guy."

Julie cringed, not hiding it this time. To her, it was an alright, albeit lame answer. But to her family? Horrible. So, so horrible. Gah, she had to put an end to this!

Abuela scoffed, nearly choking on her hard seltzer. "One day? At a time? What is this, the 70s? My little girl deserves more than carpe diem!"

Mimi hissed. "Wrong, wrong answer, boy toy."

The questions kept shooting at lightning speed, each one more outrageous than the other, while Julie's grip on her fork tightened and tightened in anger.

"How many times a week do you shower?"

"What's your least favourite colour?"

"Do you pick up women? Is that how you make extra money?"

"What's your view on children?"

"Can you handle spice?"

"How did you even find our darling, huh? Did you lure her into that bar of yours?"

"Is Luke short for Lukas, or Lucrative?"

"Alright, enough!" Julie screamed, standing up with a stomp of the foot.

A hush crossed the table, aghast and surprised, her mother perpetually amused as always (too many in drugs in the 90s, she presumed) while Abuela feigned to be sleeping. 'Resting her eyes' would likely be the excuse.

"This is insane! Stop acting like this and start treating Luke with a little respect!"

From the corner of her eye, she vaguely noted he was staring at her, gobsmacked. He did well, given the circumstances, but she couldn't just idly sit there and let him take all this shit.

Mom puffed, leaning back in her chair. "We haven't been disrespectful, Julie."

"You have, mom! Can't I just have a boyfriend without—"

"We've invited him," she interrupted. "That's enough of a courtesy."

And before Julie could fire back, furious beyond belief, Rose added, "You know how the Molina cookie crumbles, honey. No men stay. Not for long, anyway."

That smug response made her explode. "Mom! Can you just for once—?!"

"I love her though," Luke quipped, shy.

The fight halted instantly, all ten women gawking at him like he just spoke a new language.

And he did, to Julie at least. Luke loved her? Even after all of this? She obviously knew he wasn't impartial to her, those seven months equalling tenderness and partnership like nothing she's ever experienced before, but... love? He was in love with her?

How could she abide by the 'Molina Women Rule!' rules when he confessed that, no hesitation or stutter heard?

And so, Julie's heart melted. "You love me?"

"Of course, I do," he whispered. "Why else would I be here?"

Elena nodded, sympathetic. "Good point."

Unable to stop her smile from becoming a dazzling, lovesick beam, she repeated his words with as much conviction as she could muster. "I love you too, Luke."

Abuela shot up from her sleep with a cough and a snicker. "Yeah, right."

Mom waved her glass around, congratulating them. For the first time tonight, her tone held kindness instead of poorly veiled contempt. "That's very sweet, Luke. Tell me in seven more months how you're feeling then."

Though Julie couldn't expect her to suddenly change her ways. Damn.

Mimi scowled. "We're letting 'I'm a one day at a time kinda guy' slide?"

Disgruntled chatter rose again, and that was her cue to go. Tapping Luke's shoulder, she mouthed home — something she hadn't done before and wasn't sure which apartment she meant either, but it left flutters in her chest regardless — and he nodded in understanding.

Oh, God. He loved her. That still hadn't set in.

"And if you'll excuse us, me and Luke are going," Julie continued. "Thanks for dinner, mom."

The woman laughed, baring all her teeth. She clearly had a fun time. "See you at Victoria's birthday, mi amor. And Luke? Who knows!"

He forced a chuckle at her remark. Awkwardly bouncing on his heels, he waved at all the ladies. "It was really cool to meet you all. Now– now I know why Julie's so incredible. So... thanks." A true smile appeared. "This was great."

No one said anything after that. Abuela gurgled her drink and her cousins prodded at their leftovers, mom peering at her like she was trying to find something. Sometimes, Julie and Rose were so alike, and other times, they were complete strangers. She liked that. It kept dinners like these exciting, she supposed. Mom seemed to think the same.

They bid goodbye one last time with a kiss on the cheek, and then they hurried out the door. A giggling breath left as the cool wind hit her skin. Luke was buzzing with adrenaline, unable to keep his limbs still.

Clambering in her car, the comforting quietude wrapped around them as the doors slammed shut. A beat passed. No one spoke.

"What the fuck," he whispered, horrified. "What the fuck. What the fuck did just happen? What the fuck—"

Julie squealed. "You love me!"

"That's what you got from that?!"

"Of course!" Her arms curled around him, teasing. "You love me!"

"That shouldn't be the most surprising thing tonight, Jules," he grumbled, though a playful shimmer sparked within his beautiful eyes. "I thought I was, y'know, obvious."

She shrugged, bashful. "It's always nice to hear, no?"

"Oh, man," he sighed, eyes flickering across her face as though he couldn't decide what to focus on, as though she was indescribably stunning. Her heart swelled tenfold at the thought. "I love you, Julie. So fucking much. Even with your crazy family."

Laughing, she reached forward and kissed his lips, fingers pressing in his neck and their silly grins preventing them from deepening the warm touch.

"Let's go," he mumbled, noses nudging, eyes hooded and pouring with the love she somehow hadn't noticed before. "Before they're ready for round two."

But before he could move away, she kissed him again, better this time, and cherished his sigh when they slowly seperated.

"I love you too," she whispered. "Like, a lot."

He grinned, breathless. "Good to know."

Victoria's birthday was four months later, and Luke attended as well. And also for Mimi and Elena and mom and Abuela and Donna and every other Molina member. And when Julie got surprised with a 24th birthday party, she figured out Luke and mom combined their powers to host it.

Molina women were independant and lived life by their own rules... which included Julie.

Loving Luke Patterson unconditionally probably made her the most unique Molina of all.

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@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @ourstarscollided @thedeathdeelers @pink-flame @constantly-singing @willexx @unsaid-emily

[nepenthendline]

Heyyy, could you do a headcannon post for tsukki, kenma, suga, Kageyama, and kurro, and how they would go about proposing to their s/o. I love your writing btw!!! 💜

proposal hcs make me so sOFT, and thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺 It means a lot! I’m going to bury myself in these hcs to get rid of the stress my uni are giving me rn also kageyama’s is so long omg i got a little carried away

slight timeskip spoilers (kenma, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo)

Requests are open!

Proposal Headcanons - Tsukishima, Kenma, Sugawara, Kageyama and Kuroo

Tsukishima:

Tsukishima wasn’t one for extravagant publics displays of love and affection, so his proposal wouldn’t be either

he wanted it to be natural, not some crazy, over-the-top event that had everyone in the neighbourhood witnessing

it would be around 5-10 years (depending on how old you were when you started dating) of being together when Tsukishima decided he wanted to marry you, it’s not that he never thought about it, he just wanted to be sure this was the right decision for both of you

he had mentioned marriage to you one night a few months before proposing to test the waters and see your opinion so that he could gauge whether you would say yes or not

he took Yamaguchi with him to pick out a ring, he was great friends with you too so he knew your style and preferences well to help out Tsukishima

the proposal itself what somewhat planned, he knew the day he was going to do it but, other than that, he left it open to change

the two of you had gone for an evening walk across a pathway that overlooked the town, something you two do often to wind down

you two hadn’t spoke much, a comfortable, warm silence surrounding you besides pointing out the odd squirrel or brief check-ups on each others day

both of you had stopped at a railing on your walk, leaning against it to watch the sun set over the tall buildings

his hand was in yours, brushing his thumb over the back of it as he looked out to the view

“I love you (Y/N),” his voice was quiet but it seemed certain

he wasn’t the kind of man that told you he loved you multiple times a day, it was reserved for special moments and the times where he couldn’t get how lucky he was to have you out of his mind

“I love you too Kei,” you didn’t need to be loud, or shout your confession to the world to know that you both meant it deeply

“Marry me,” it sounded more like a instruction than a question and his gaze hadn’t left the sky

“W-what?” had you heard him wrong? was this a joke?

he turned his eyes to you, locking them with yours - this was the most serious and sincere you had ever seen him

“Marry me,” he repeated

you stood with your mouth slightly open, eyes wide as he pulled out a box from his pocket, opening it to display a simple, yet stunning ring

“I always thought that if you went for what you truly wanted, it would just end in pain and disappointment, that all the effort and sentiment would be for nothing, but with you it’s so easy. I might never be, but I want to become the best man for you, that you deserve, so marry me.”

Kenma:

gets married for tax purposes

marriage was not something Kenma had ever though about in his life growing up

he never thought he would get married or find someone he had a connection with and, honestly, he was fine with that

he didn’t really see the appeal of it in the first place

it wasn’t until many years down the line of being with you and his friends around him getting into relationships when he started to consider the possibility

the first time it came into his head was at Kuroo’s wedding

he spent most of the time wishing he could go home and get out of this uncomfortable suit, but there were times when he say Kuroo’s beaming smile that he was glad he came

some of the ex-nekoma team members had poked at him with questions of when he was going to get ‘hitched’, which he responded to with a sigh

he certainly wasn’t going to propose because others told him he needed to

the next time it crossed his mind was when he started a new game that his fans had recommended he play

it was a romance game which wasn’t his usual go-to genre, but it had incredible reviews and created a storm in the gaming world so he thought he might as well check it out

through the game he got to witness an endearing story of a couple that went at odds to be together

the story delved into their married life and all the little things they enjoyed together through the years

he didn’t really want to admit it, but it did make him feel a little emotional

he saw himself and you in the characters, as if he was watching his own life play out on his screen

every now and then you and Kenma played some games together so you could spend time with him and he could show you want had been interesting him lately, so he decided to show you this game

you thought it was adorable, so heartwarming yet a little sad at points, but you had always been a little more outwardly emotional then Kenma

“imagine if we got married haha, how cute would that be!” you gushed out in the moment without thinking as you played

“eh...I guess” it wasn’t really the answer you were hoping for, but at least he didn’t sound utterly disgusted by the thought

you continued to play with him for a while, tucked into his side and making comments every now and then

a particular endearing part was plating on the screen and your eyes shone as they fixated on the characters

he could tell by the glassy look that you were getting a little affected by the story, but you looked so cute

the way your lip pouted ever so slightly, and how you gripped at his hoodie, as if to steady yourself

he had a sudden rush of adoration for you, he really did love you and the last couple years of you living together had been wonderful, how he got to wake up beside you, do daily chores with you, how you supported him in his many careers

“Maybe we should get married,” he blurted out, you whipped your head towards him so fast you almost got whiplash

“Are you...proposing?” you questioned, with somewhat of a laugh in your voice

“huh...looks like I am.”

Sugawara:

Sugawara was sensible, mature, a little bit of a tease and sometimes chaotic if Daichi wasn’t watching but also traditional

he had often thought about what it would be like to grow up, get married and have a family

it wouldn’t take long before he knew he wanted to marry you, even throughout the 3 years you had already been together he had daydreamed about marrying you more times than he could count

from all the memories you had together, all the times you helped enough other in rough patches and the learning the two of you wanted to continue in the future had him certain that he wanted you beside him forever

so he set out his plan

he took his old teammates, Daichi and Asahi with him on a hunt to find the perfect ring

Daichi was there to keep him in check and calm his nerves, although Asahi was probably the most nervous and Asahi had a great eye for stylish, beautiful pieces due to his designing career

now it was time to plan

he didn’t want it to be crazy, but he wanted it to be something, a whole event in itself

so he scheduled a meal for the two of you and some of your friends

it was at quite a fancy restaurant in the evening and your group had its own secluded table at the back, surrounded with dividers from the rest of the restaurant

all of you spent the meal catching up and laughing, but Sugawara seemed a little quieter than usual

you had asked him if he was ok, but he just replied with an ‘of course!’ and a smile, so you let it be

Asahi was shaking but you put that off to general anxiety

you guys had ordered desserts and everyone had gotten theirs first

as the waiter brought yours over, the table went silent

the waiter came from your left, Sugawara on your right, so you had looked over as he came

as he set the plate down, you noticed the words spelled out in chocolate sauce 

“Will you marry me?” 

you gasped and turned towards Sugawara, who was now on one knee next to you, holding out an open ring box

“I have known for so long that I wanted to marry you. You’re beautiful, smart, courageous and so loving, and I want to have you by my side forever. I promise I will continue to grow as your partner and take care of you every step of the way, so, will you marry me?”

Kageyama:

the only thing in this boy’s brain is you and volleyball, its all his one braincell can cope with

that being said, he has never once thought about marriage

his whole life he has spend all his energy and focus on becoming a better player, the best setter he possibly can and standing on the court longer

but you were the first person to get him, to understand him and accept him as is while helping him improve and grow

you helped him to open up and communicate with people better

you helped him whenever he was frustrated with volleyball and a certain play he was working tirelessly on

you never once turned your back on him when he struggled or lost his temper

you were his partner, but it was different from a volleyball partner

he cared for you, every part of you, and always wanted to know if you were ok or spend time with you

you made him genuinely smile everyday and he knew that he wanted to be your partner for life

it came about when he was hanging out with Hinata on one of their rare days off to catch up

he had been talking about you constantly, expressing how much he loved you and adored you

“Why don’t you just marry them?” Hinata questioned with his held tilted, as if it was obvious

“w-what? Hinata boke!” he shouted as his face grew red and pushed Hinata aside

the two talked about it and Kageyama decided, very bashfully, that yeah, he should just marry you

but how does he ask you that?

he knew nothing about marriage or proposals, so he spend the next few weeks asking his friends, teammates, even his coach on how to propose to you

“Take them to an expensive restaurant!”

“Wouldn’t it be cute to propose in Disneyland??”

“Well, I proposed to my partner by sending them on a scavenger hunt”

he was bombarded with ideas, but none of them seemed right

none of them seemed like him

he was getting frustrated with the pressure of coming up with a good way to ask you to be his forever, it had to be perfect, it had to be special and it had to fit with your relationship

you noticed he was getting agitated a lot more recently, he was quieter and snapped more often, he stayed back later at the gym to train and he rarely ate dinner with you anymore

whenever you asked what the problem was, he replied with an ‘it’s nothing’ and stormed off

his teammates had noticed too and were less than pleased with his attitude as it affected their gameplay

one of his teammates had begged you to come to the gym and talk some sense into him when he started continuously overworking himself

it was 7pm when you set off from your house to the gym where he was still training

as you entered, you noticed that he was the only one here, hitting serve after serve that never seemed to land right

“Tobio,” you called out

“Baby,” you tried again but you couldn’t catch his attention from his deep focus on the ball

you walked over to him and lightly grabbed his arm, stopping him from serving the ball again

“Tobio, what’s wrong? Everyone is worried about you. Are you having trouble with a play? Because we can sort that out with your coach-”

he cut you off by mumbling something under his breath, much too quiet for you to hear

“What was that?” 

“I want to ask you to marry me and I don’t know how,” he said louder this time, his eyes staring at the ball in his hand as he gripped it tightly

“O-oh, right...” you were stunned, speechless, this wasn’t something you thought you would hear from him

“Everyone’s been telling me how to do it, but none of them seem right,” his voice was low and his gaze still hadn’t let the ball

you put a finger under his chin and lifted his face towards you

“It doesn’t need to be what everyone else tells you, we can do things our own way,” you tried to comfort him with a smile and he simply stared back at you

“So go on then,” you were beaming at him by now, yet his face got even tighter with confusion

“Go on, ask me to marry you.”

his jaw hung wide open, his eyes seemed to be staring into your skull like he had seen a ghost, this is certainly not what he expected

he tried to speak a couple times, stumbling on his words as they got caught in his throat

“It’s ok, take your time,” you brushed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held it, encouraging him to continue

“w-will you....will...willyoumarryme?”

BONUS: you two picked out a ring together afterwards, this boy has no sense of style, don’t trust him by himself

Kuroo:

Kuroo had jokingly asked you to marry time multiple times throughout your relationship

the first couple times ended with you being a blushing mess while he teased you

but by now you just tell him to shut up go off sis

marrying you had always been part of the plan for him, just a natural progression of your relationship

while Kuroo can be quite the tease, he was extremely serious of his relationship with you and your future

he started off his plan by asking your dad if he would like to spend the day together, you know, father-son-in-law bonding time

what your dad wasn’t prepared for was Kuroo to turn up in a shirt, suit trousers and confess how he wanted to marry you

he had a whole speech prepared about how he would be the best husband for you, how he would be sure to take good care of you and, possibly, be the best father in the future if you planned to have children

you dad had to eventually shut him up as Kuroo kept going, saying how he would be delighted to have you marry the man

step one: check

now he needed to find the right ring

he had a look around at multiple stores but he couldn’t find anything that was unique enough to be called yours and that captured you or your relationship

since Kuroo had quite the high-paying job plus a little backing from a certain famous youtuber so the cost wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you

so he got one custom made

he sat with a designer for hours creating the most stunning, distinctive ring that he knew you would love

step two: check

over the next couple days he planned a meet-up evening with your family and his where he would pop the question

you both had spent the day cooking and preparing for the evening before they all come to your house

you had all finished dinner and moved over to the living room to chat

Amidst all the chatter, Kuroo stood up and cleared his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention

“I have something I’d like to say,” he said with confidence, then turning to you with a grin

“The last few years with you have been perfect. We’ve had some ups and downs, but we have made so many amazing memories together. You really are my other half and I think everyday about how truly lucky I am to call you mine. You know me better than anyone else. I know I’ve asked you this a couple times in the past when we’re laughing together, but this time I’m serious,”

he got down on one knee, holding one of your hands while presenting the custom ring in the other

“will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

and the crowd goes wild

Tagging @togasknifes so she can read Kageyama ty ly

[karasimpno]

I’m trying this again because the tags are being weird but this is for the lovely and patient anon who requested #43 w/ Oikawa!!

Omg I’m so angry this got deleted and I had to start over 😭I’m so sorry it took SO long - I tried to make it a little longer to make up for it, I hope you like it!!!

“What happens if I do this?” - Oikawa x Reader 1.9k words | warnings: established relationship, fluff, a liiiiittle nsfw

You were coming up on the end of the semester and already cramming for finals. You were determined to do better than last semester and had committed yourself to cracking down on notes and outlines at your desk every night for the last two weeks.You felt kind of bad for Oikawa, though. He had graduated last year and, ever the dutiful boyfriend, always came over to see you after he got off work. Sometimes he surprised you with onigiri or something pretty that made him think of you. Sometimes you would get to eat dinner together before you reluctantly returned to your studies. He would just wait patiently on the couch, watching tv or scrolling through his phone, hoping you could eventually join him or that he’d at least get to snuggle you to sleep.

This past week though, the gifts had become more frequent. It coincided with your growing stress but you weren’t sure if that was the reason for the influx in attentions or if he was just missing you. He had bought dinner the last three nights in a row and had even made you blush when he slipped a pretty new pair of underwear into your palm after you’d finished studying one night. You were too tired to do much more than kiss him before falling asleep in his arms, though. You sighed half-awake apologies and he pulled you closer, understanding.

Tonight though, your eyes were straining on your textbook and you felt yourself almost going crazy when he waltzed through the front door, twirling his spare key around his index finger. “Babe!” he called out.

“Bedroom!” you replied, not looking up from your reading.

“I know,” he teased, the slightest edge in his voice. You glanced over your shoulder at him, standing in your doorway, hair windswept and looking devilishly handsome as ever. A grin instantly spread across your face, the mere energy of his presence infectious. You sighed and swiveled your chair around. He had your favorite takeout in his hand and you felt yourself melt a little.

“Tooru...” you sighed. He closed the distance between the two of you, setting the bag on your desk and taking both your hands in his. The corner of his mouth was pulled up in a flirtatious smirk. You took a deep breath in, relaxing and soaking up the presence of your biggest source of happiness. “And how are you today my love?” he asked, releasing one of your hands and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You caught his hand as it skirted around your cheek and held it there, leaning into his touch. “Better now,” you hated to admit, feeling a little sappy and knowing he would make fun of you for it.

“Is that all it takes? Your big strong man coming home to save you from your studies? Well then I guess I didn’t need to pick up this-” he teased, picking the bag back up from your desk and turning on his heel with a glint in his eye. “No - Tooru - wait!” you called after him as he rounded the doorway. “Dinnertime!” he sang, and you got up and trailed him to the small kitchen, the smell of cooked food making your stomach growl.

He had set the bag on the countertop and was cleaning off the table. You reached into the bag and pulled out the plasticware and a paper box. In an instant, Oikawa was by your side, slapping your wrist. “Put that back! We’re having a proper meal tonight!” he reprimanded, pulling plates out of the cabinet. You huffed and put your hands on your hips.

“Does that mean you’ll be cooking then?” you smirked, receiving a glare from him. “No,” he retorted, mumbling about his cooking skills as he properly set the table, proceeding to snatch the bag away from you. You folded your arms across your chest and watched him serve up dinner for you, trying to keep the glowing feeling in your heart from cracking your teasing exterior. He even brushed past you to steal a candle from your room, lighting it between the two place settings.

“What’s all this for?” you asked, slightly bewildered, but beaming at this romantic gesture.

“It’s Thursday,” he said simply, standing across from you with an adorable smile on his face. You grinned, slightly shaking your head at him. You stepped towards him and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest close to his. “And you’ve been working so hard....” his voice lowered, gently tracing a thumb over your cheekbone and looking down at you. Your heart felt so full as his eyes gazed into yours. “I love you so much,” you said, and pressed your lips against his. It was a sweet kiss, the both of you melting into the other’s touch. “Thank you for dinner,” you whispered with a content smile.

“Not to mention it’s hot to have such a smart partner!” he said, pulling away and giving you a hard smack on the ass, eliciting a surprised yelp from you. He chuckled and sat down, the two of you beginning to catch up about your long day.

By the time he had cleared the plates – he had even bought dessert – you were bending down to plant a kiss to his cheek, begrudgingly needing to get back to your studies. He caught your hand as you moved away, holding it fast and keeping you from retreating to your room. He wasn’t looking at you, just holding you in place. “Babe...” he started, and there was something different in his voice, something ragged. He interlaced his fingers with yours and you instinctively wrapped your other hand around your clasped hands. He pushed his chair back and moved in close to you, his nose hovering above yours. He used his index finger to pull your chin up. “I miss you,” he breathed. You felt yourself inhale and loll your head to the side with guilt, knowing exactly how he felt and what he meant. This week he’d been pulling out all the stops on his other love languages – acts of service, gifts, even words of affirmation when you got frustrated with your work. But quality time and physical touch, your two shared most important ones, had sadly slipped away this week.

“I know...” you whispered. “I just...really need to do well this semester.”

“I know” he pressed, the guilt and need intermixing in his voice. “But you’ve been working so hard. It’s almost the weekend. Take the night off with me,” he was practically begging, though his pride would never let him admit it. You sighed and pressed a kiss to your enjoined hands.

“Just let me get through a few more practice sets,” you bargained. “An hour or two, tops.”

“One hour,” he insisted, sighing. He reluctantly let your hand go as you winked at him. He smacked your ass again as you turned to go, making you jump and shoot him a wicked glare. He just chuckled and offered up his signature smirk again. You couldn’t help your grin as you turned back, his attentions fueling the first half of returning to your work. By the time an hour had passed, however, you had become overwhelmed by your studies and your brow furrowed at your computer screen again. Before you had even noticed the time, an hour and a half had passed.

Your nose buried in a textbook, you began to hear a soft humming coming from behind you. You groaned, checking the time. “I’m sorry babe... I just can’t seem to finish this,” you said. Tilting your head back in his direction without taking your eyes off your work.

“Mmm well that’s too bad...” he crooned, suddenly behind you, his hands melting down your shoulders. You sighed, your fingers sliding off the keyboard as you leaned back into his touch.

“Why’s that?” you asked him, your head tilting, exposing more of your neck. “Because...” he whispered, taking advantage of your exposed skin with his thumbs, working presses down your neck. His lips were suddenly by your ear as he began massaging your shoulders. “I had such fun things I wanted to do to you tonight,” he spoke. You groaned again, letting your head fall against his temple. “Well if I let you do everything you wanted to do to me, Oikawa, I would surely fail my classes,” you said, pointedly, but still feeling yourself melting into his touch. Your heart rate had picked up slightly and your face was growing hotter.

“Well,” he said, “what happens if I do this?” he exhaled, teeth grazing over the shell of your ear as his tongue darted out between them. Simultaneously, his hands began wandering over more of your body, the flats of his palms firmly making their way down your chest, your nipples hardening at even the briefest of touches.

“Mm, Tooru...” you moaned, weak at his touch already. You ran your fingers over his forearms, your skin prickling with heat, and something inside of you snapped. Tired of your studies, absolutely spent from days hunched over your books, away from his touch, working yourself silly, you decided you’d had enough. You pushed his hands off of you and spun the chair around, throwing your arms around his neck and eagerly beginning to suck a tender spot below the corner of his jaw. He let out a surprised little laugh and wrapped his arms around your lower back. You pulled away for a moment. “Then I guess we’ll just have to see,” you whispered, your eyelids half-closed, answering his question. You squeezed his shoulders and jumped, wrapping your legs around his waist and crushing your lips into his, as the two of you had done many times before. He caught you with a low gasp and traced a hand up your thigh, turning you toward the bed. You could feel him grinning against your lips, and you pulled back for a moment, resting your forehead against his.

He crawled onto the bed with you still wrapped around his torso, letting you softly drop onto the mattress below him. You could practically feel his body vibrating as he began pressing kisses from your mouth, down your neck, down your clothed chest, to your stomach, where he lifted the fabric of your shirt and planted a sweet kiss ever so lovingly to your exposed skin. Looking down at him, you ran a hand through his beautiful hair, thinking of all the times he’d pulled your pants down with his teeth. It made you smile, growing a little more aroused at the thought. Nothing had ever quite done it for you the way this man’s love for you did.

“I guess tonight was a good night to try out that new pair of underwear you got me,” you said with a smile, your chest heaving at the sight of the corners of his lips turning upwards at your tone. “I love you so much, Tooru,” you sighed, your hand still toying with his hair, thinking about what a wonderful boyfriend you had. “Thank you....thank you for everything this week, for the dinners, the gifts, your patience....thank you –” he swallowed the rest of your sentence with his lips. Pulling back to hover with a smile above your lips. “I love you too, baby,” he grinned.

You found yourself continuing to say thank you many times that night.

[immacaria]

Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

_____________________________________________________________

It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

[heyheydidjaknow]

Why do I not have the option to copy and paste formatting? Why is that an option I am not given? Who thought that I wouldn’t need that when I’m on my phone? Screw that guy, who I am arbitrarily calling Adam. If anyone knows how to do that, please tell me.

Chapter 6 Pt 2

“There is no fucking way you got a date with her.” Raphael does not even look it up. “No way in hell.”

“And yet the flow chart worked.” He laughs from his lab, shutting off any excess equipment as to not overwork it. “It worked like a charm and she asked me to go to her place so ha.”

”You didn’t show her the chart, did you?”

“I did not.”

“Well, there you go.” Leo looks back at him from his seat on the couch. “What time?”

“Seven o’clock.” He slides the door closed. “But I’m planning on being there at six fifty-five so that she knows I value her time.”

“Does the sun set that early?”

“Why do you even ask?” Raph turns a page in his once periodical periodical. “You know he looked it up.”

“As a matter of fact, I did. Forgive me for also valuing preparedness.”

“Nobody likes a know it all.”

He grins smugly. “That’s where you’re wrong. See, I,” he gestured to himself, “have a date with a gorgeous girl tonight, one where she has already invited me into her home, and you,” he gestured to Raphael, “are reading a magazine from a company that went out of business two years ago alone.”

“Donnie, don’t be a jerk.” Leonardo looked back at the television. “Raphael brings up a valid point; you tend to act like you know everything, and the actual request wasn’t for a date.”

“How else can I interpret one on one time with her?”

“Well,” he counters, “how do you interpret one on one time with us?”

He blinks. “Wait, so you’re saying she’s… how do you put it?”

“Nah, I don’t think she’s friendzonin ‘im.” Mickey looks up from his drawing. “Think she’s sending signals she doesn’t mean to.” He sets his half-shaded piece aside. “Think about it; she said she’s been all stressed out, right? She died like two weeks ago.” He shrugs. “She’s probably just lonely and needs the company.”

“That’s… actually really insightful of you.”

He grins. “What can I say? I’m a modern McPherson.”

Raph snickers at that. “Donnie is more of a McPher—how old is that movie, anyway? A hundred?

“Hey!” He shoots a glare at his brother. “Respect the classics.”

“Not to interrupt your riveting intro to film class,” Donnie interjects, losing his shit, “but I really need to know what this is before I go, and it’s already fifteen ‘till.”

“Look, maybe she’s interested, maybe she’s not.” Leonardo’s eyes are back on the screen. “Just try to tread carefully and you’ll probably be fine.”

“Probably?”

“Again, Raph had a point.”

He groans, walking to the entrance and exit of their home. “You guys aren’t helping.”

“Not our job.”

Leo calls after him. “Be home before six!”

He turns the corner, cradling his head in his hands. ‘I am totally and thoroughly fucked.’

--

GoodFellas.

Of all the movies in the world, that is the movie you have decided to use to explain these concepts. This is the example piece that you are going to show to the vigilante. All you know is that you had started watching the Phantom Menace and had decided against explaining the concept of racial coding and this is the only other movie that you can think of right now. You have decided to commit, and you are already regretting it, but you decide to figure it out as you go.

You set the pizza on the coffee table, throwing a bag of popcorn in the microwave to pop. You do not expect Donatello to be late, so you decided to start now so that they could get started right away. You start walking to the window, stopping at the mouth of the hallway. You look yourself over one more time in the bathroom mirror despite yourself. You do not exactly know why you care so much; this was not a date, and you had not advertised it as one. Still, impressions are important, and the last thing you need is for him to not listen to you because of it. That is what you are telling yourself, anyhow.

You hear knocking against the glass. You check your phone for the time. ‘Five minutes early.’ You smile softly. ‘How responsible.’ You open it up, smiling at your guest. “Welcome, Donatello.” You take a step back. “Please, make yourself at home.”

He barely makes a sound as he steps off the windowsill, looking around your apartment, fully illuminated, for the first time.

After about thirty seconds of his investigation, you clear your throat. “Donnie?”

He snaps out of it. “Huh?”

You smile gently. “You wanna sit down? I bought pizza.”

“Uh, yeah.” He nods, sitting down and facing the television screen. “I like your place.”

“Thanks.” You sit down next to him, tucking your feet under you as you flip on the television. “How do you feel about gangster movies?”

“Gangster movies?”

“Yeah.” You list a couple on your fingers. “Scarface, Godfather, all that jazz.”

He shakes his head, brow furrowed in confusion. “How can you make gangster movies legally?”

“That is a long answer. The short version?” You lean forward, taking a slice from the box. “The police are kind to those who cooperate, and people think their stories are fascinating.”

“So they’re documentaries?” He mimics you.

You shrug. “Sometimes. Not always, but sometimes. You want something to drink?” You hear the microwave beep as you stand up.

“Water?”

You nod, walking over to pull the popcorn out of the microwave and grab your drinks. “I trust the walk wasn’t too bad?”

“Not at all.” The small talk is torture. “Getting to your window was a bit of a challenge, but it wasn’t anything too bad.”

“That’s good.” You pour him a glass. “I’ll have to get something for that; maybe a planter or something, so you have a bigger ledge.”

“It’s alright.” He taps his fingers against his knee. “It’s wide enough to stand.”

“Still.” You place his cup on the counter, dumping the kernels into a large plastic bowl. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if one of you guys got hurt trying to come in through the window.” You grab a can of soda out of the refrigerator, sitting down and handing him the glass.

He smiles slightly. “You’re really sweet sometimes, you know that?”

You grin. “I try,” you hum, starting to pull up the movie. “I think you’re pretty cool too, Hamato.”

He chuckles. “You make me sound like I’m fifty.”

“Oh, totally.” You nod in agreement. “You’re an old soul.”

He blinks. “Old soul?”

“Mature, I mean.” You shrug. “I mean, handling the stuff you do with any degree of tact, to me, displays a great maturity you don’t see in most teenagers, myself included.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

You get back up for napkins and plates. “Not at all.” You hand him one of each. “It’s an admirable quality, though not one I particularly envy.”

“You think?” His hands linger for a moment longer than typical as he took them.

“Yeah. You want me to turn down the lights for the movie while I’m up?”

His face goes red. “I-I mean,” he stutters, “if you want to.”

“Then I will; shows the image better when it’s dark.” You walk to the wall, flicking off the lights and sitting down next to him, setting your slice on your plate as you turn on the movie.

Your reactions to it are different.

He does not seem what you would call disturbed, but he gets grossly invested in the story extremely quickly. He is noticeably more interested in watching you watch the movie, but he studies the plot intently, noting the more domestic plotline between the lead and his wife in particular. His reaction to the violence is strange to you; he is not aloof, so to speak, but he does not flinch much until the fighting is between Henry and Karen.

You have seen this movie what feels like a thousand times. Whenever you think it applicable, you lean over and whisper to him about the directing, the script, the plot—it is supposed to be a lesson, after all. But you realize that your attention, every so often, shifts to the bed, to your pillow with the knife underneath it. The violence of the movie makes you edgier than you are used to.

About halfway through the movie, you move closer to the boy sitting beside you. You lean your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes as you listen for cues for comments. You don’t notice his reaction, but you do notice how his arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You do not object; you were the one who initiated, after all.

“Here’s a psychology relationship thingy you can tell your family about.” You cringe at that poor little girl standing in the hallway. “’That’s all in your head’ is classic gaslighting. I dunno if that’s really your area or not.”

“Oh, yeah, I see what you mean.” He fiddles with the cloth of your jacket absentmindedly. “It’s kinda hard for me to wrap my head around, people staying like that. I mean,” he clarifies, “I get why, but—”

You both tense up as a young man on screen is shot dead by Joe Pesci’s character.

You exhale. “Yeah, I get what you mean.” You shrug. “But folks get scared, ya know? In her case, she doesn’t want to break the family apart, and she’s really into him.”

“What? No way.”

“Yes way.” You look up at him. “What can I say? We fall into infatuation so fast with bad people who say what we want to hear.”

“Don’t you mean fall in love?”

You watch as Lorraine Bracco holds a gun to her husband’s face. “Nope. Love is entirely different.”

“Yeah?” He glanced down at you.

“Apples and oranges.” You gesture to the television. “Love is supplementary, a beautifully imperfect connection between people.” Your voice becomes smoother, airier. “It’s a bond built on trust and respect. Infatuation is more of an addiction than anything.” You sigh as Liota meets to discuss his relationship with Sorvino. “At least I think so. That’s why love at first sight is a bunch of bullshit; you can’t have that kind of profound trust with someone you just met.” You shrug, looking back up at him. “Then again, what do I know? I’m an inexperienced, fifteen-year-old girl.”

“That makes a lot of sense, actually.” He looks back down at you. “I get what familial love is, but whenever Master Splinter talks about his wife, he has a hard time putting what he means into words.”

You hear their guilty verdict. “Totally get that. Articulation is not easy to do.”

A few minutes go by.

“May I be frank?”

“Please.”

You watch as a man drags his wife out of a Christmas party. “This movie is exactly why I don’t ever want to learn how to do the stuff you do. It changes you, all that violence; desensitizes you.” You bring your knees to your chest. “Especially Raphael. I swear, that shift was as dramatic as his, at least at this point in the flick.”

He pauses. “Please, tell me you’re kidding.”

You close your eyes, breathing slowly. “I’m going to try my best,” you swear, “do everything in my power, to see to it that you guys don’t experience more than you have to.”

You mean it. He can tell.

You two are quiet for the rest of the movie. You explain why certain directing choices were made, connect the beginning with the end, talk about the theme, all while you two watched their fall from grace. When the movie ends, you realize how tangled up in him you are; your head on his chest, legs draped over his with his arms around your waist. You feel the icy air against you, as if his skin attracted it to you. You push the hair out of your face. “So,” you stretch, turning the light back on, “do you wanna see another movie, or do you have a curfew?”

He pauses. “I should honestly probably get home,” he sighs. “If I’m not home early they’ll start getting ideas.”

“Oh, yeah.” You nod, completely understanding the reasoning. “You can take the leftover pizza home if you want; the guys’ll probably eat it before I do.”

“Mikey’ll be on cloud nine.” He picks the box off the coffee table. “Thanks.”

“Any time.” You stand at the window, opening it for him.

He climbs onto the windowsill, looking down at you from his perch. “I had a good time.” His face flushed. “We should do this again.”

You nod in agreement. “Definitely.” You rub the back of your neck. “I’ll pick a lighter movie next time.”

“Alright. It’s a plan.” He gives you a thumbs up.

You steal yourself, cupping one side of his face and kissing him gently on the cheek. “Goodnight, Donnie.” You smile. “See ya tomorrow.”

You are a bit concerned he’s going to fall off the windowsill. “Y-Yeah,” he grinned, words slurred. “See ya later, Y/N.” He waved, climbing up and out of your window.

You smile softly, sigh. You flop back on the bed, rolling over. You have not been this at ease since you died.

‘I really like that guy.’ You close your eyes. ‘I really, honestly do.’

You drift off to sleep, dreamless for the first time in too long.

Table Of Contents

Chapter 6 Part 1

Chapter 7

[parkertech]

:0 new request again! What about a oneshot about where y/n is just completely upset lately with a bunch of personal issues going on, and Peter notices how she’s often late, wearing long-sleeves in hot weather and such, and so while Peter is on patrol as Spider-Man, he sees y/n standing on the edge of a tall tower like Empire State Building, contemplating to jump off. So he goes over and tries to talk her out of it and she eventually does, but she slips, falling off and he catches her?? 😍 😭

the request ALONE made my heart drop to my ass-

———————————————————————

That’s it. You couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

There was too much on your plate. It was like an endless black hole that tortured you to its heart’s content.

The second you saw your boyfriend...well, now ex, with a girl straddling his lap, you broke. You didn’t even give him a chance to explain. As if there was a good enough explanation. From that day on, you always had one question lingering in your mind.

What was wrong with me?

You compared yourself to the girl, how much sharper her jawline was, how much skinnier she was, how she was more curvy, how perfect she was. No wonder he cheated on you.

Normally you would feel sad for a few weeks and get over it, but things piled on. Your relationship ending hit you harder than you thought, and you started slipping in school. A’s turned to low C’s, some were seven F’s. Your parents yelled at you, telling you this isn’t their daughter they knew. That didn’t hurt you though, what did hurt you was when they said you kept disappointing them.

That’s what you were now, apparently. A disappointment.

Every time you looked in the mirror, you hated it. You couldn’t be anyone else? You had to be this person who met everyone down, who couldn’t even keep a boyfriend. Your usual jeans were replaced with dark sweatpants, your tight t-shirts turned into slightly oversized sweatshirts, and doing your hair turned into putting it into a low ponytail. You didn’t try anymore. You knew it would get you nowhere.

Besides, no one brought it up. Betty thought you were trying a new style, MJ thought you didn’t have the time since it was highschool, and she was the most observant person you knew. So you thought everyone didn’t notice.

Keyword: thought.

Peter noticed immediately. He noticed how your eyes were much more darker and red, and from personal experience he knew it was from a lack of sleep. He also noticed how much quieter you got, when you were with the gang. You never hanged out with him anymore, and always had some sort of excuse. This all happened during the summer, too. Who wears a thick ass Champion sweatshirt when it’s literally almost 100 degrees?

He always asked you if everything was okay, and it was always a firm nod, with a slight smile. But he could tell it was somewhat fake. There were so many red flags, and you tried to cover them up.

He knew he had to say something, and he was going to do it tonight. Right after patrol.

It took a few criminals, a robbery or two, until he decided to pack it up. Thank god he didn’t, or else his life could’ve done a quick 360.

“Peter, I’m getting reports of a woman standing over the Empire State Building close to the edge.” Peter stopped in his tracks and looked around a few times, until his eyes landed on the one building that no one could miss. He saw police cars and random bystanders behind police barriers, and didn’t hesitate to turn around and parkour his way on buildings to the top of the building.

Despite the bright lights of the rooms in Empire State, he couldn’t see exactly where the woman was. “E.D.I.T.H., activate thermal vision!” His visors in his suit showed random blobs of red, yellow, and red, and he looked a little up to see what the outline of a person. The crowd below cheered when they saw the blur of black and red jump off an apartment complex and start running up the side of Empire State.

After a few seconds of running, he used a web to swing himself sideways and into the platform where the woman was. He panted for a second, before holding his hands out slightly and taking a few cautious steps forward. Now that he was closer, he noticed the person had a hood on, and their hands were in a nervous fist. He had to be careful careful.

“Ma’am, I need you to step away from the edge, please.” The person gasped and turned around, and Peter felt his heart sink as his eyes met yours. The air got suddenly chilly, and he froze in place. “Y-Y/N...?”

“Peter, this isnt any of your business!” You yelled through hot tears. Peter swallowed hard, before cautiously pulling his mask up so it rested over his eyebrows. You noticed how his eyes were like yours—watery and panicked. His cheeks were red, and his messy hair was gently moving in the New York air. He took a step forward and you took a half step back.

“T-This does have to do with me! You’re my bestfriend, I can’t let this happen for a hundred reasons!” Peter protests. You didn’t believe him. You didn’t believe him even though you wanted to. You shook your head, and Peter’s soul crushed into two. “Why are you even doing this?!”

“Because I’m tired, Peter! I’m tired of not being good enough, I’m tired of doing everything wrong, I’m tired of letting everyone down!”

“You don’t let me down, Y/N! Think about this, you know how much I’ve lost!” His voice cracked at the last word, as a tear slipped down his cheek. “My parents, Uncle Ben, T-Tony! I cant lose you too!” You were speechless, stating into his broken eyes, and your mind began to race. You remember the flashbacks of hugging Peter when he cried for all of their deaths, and you remembered how broken he was. The fact that you could do that to him too, made your heart shatter into even more pieces. “You’re one of the few things I still have, Y/N! I’m not just gonna idly let it go! You’re too important for me to do that?”

“How important, Peter?” You asked with a trembling voice. Peter scoffed and shook his head in disbelief.

“Does all the years of our friendship not say anything? You’re the one person I let my guard down with! You’re the only person that could go 17 straight hours watching Star Wars with me! You’re the only person who can make me laugh so hard I can’t breathe for almost 30 minutes.” He took a deep breath before continuing, noticing how your face softened slightly at his words. “You’re the only person that makes everything in my life worth it. You’re one of the only reasons I’m still here. You’re the one person I want to spend my entire life with...” If it was going to save your life, he might as well blurt out everything. He swallows the lump in his throat, closing his eyes, before continuing. This was long overdue anyways...

“You’re the only person I love, Y/N...” You gasped at his reaction, the tears in your eyes coming back. But these weren’t the sad, angry tears. These were happy tears. But someone said that to you before.

“D-Do you really?” Peter didn’t waste a second to nod. “W-Why?”

“Because everything about you is perfect to me. I love how you smile at me, I love how you laugh at almost everything, even if it isn’t even that funny. I love how compassionate you are to other people, even if they’re the biggest assholes on the planet and don’t deserve it. Y/N, I always made it a goal to make sure you’re happy, to make sure you don’t feel anything negative towards yourself, or to make sure you’re not in a bad mood. I know I failed at it this time, but I won’t let it happen again. I want to be more than friends, but we can’t be that if you jump...” He holds his arm out, and you look down at his hand, taking in all his words, before looking back up at his hands. They’re desperate and pleading, while yours are thinking and contemplating.

“Please...” Peter begs though tears. You swallow hard, before taking a step forward and reaching for his hand. But the second your foot moved, the concrete underneath broke, sending you flying down the side of the building with a scream. “Y/N!”

It was the more ear ripping, bone chilling scream Peter ever heard. He got this far, he was not giving up. He ran off the side of the building, pulling down his mask and aiming his web shooters towards you. The web shot a direct beeline to your palm, and his other hand attatched a web to the side of Empire State. It made it just in time, yanking you and Peter to the wall. Peter yanked you up with one hand, and your hands instinctively wrapped his around his neck, and your legs around his hips.

He heard your panicked breathing, and titled your chin up, resting his forehead on yours. “Y/N, calm down, I got you, you’re okay!” He spoke frantically. Staring into the white eyes of his suit, your body seemed to relax. The moment was filled with heavy, panicked breathing, and one of your hands gently tugged up his mask. Peter didn’t flinch, just continued staring at you in pure protectiveness.

You stopped pulling his mask off when it reached his nose. You stared at his lips, then back up, looking for any sign of hesitation. But none of it was there. You leaned in slowly, before softly and gently pressing your lips against his soft ones. He closed his eyes and hummed against the kiss, intensifying the moment. He kissed back a little harder, and you felt all your stress flow off your body. He pulled away, resting his forehead on yours again.

“Please never leave me...” He begged breathlessly. You nodded and held him tighter, making a silent promise to Peter forever.

[kannra21]

Daisuzu one shot 💴💗

Suzue is angry for the first time and Daisuke needs to keep up with her bad mood the entire morning. How is he handling it?

~o0o~

This was supposed to be a positive morning for Suzue because Daisuke told her yesterday that he's going to take a day off just to catch up on his time with her and she was so enthusiastic about it that one simple thing as perid cramps decided on ruining her instantly. It was early in the day, 7:15h so to speak, and she was already in shock and fed up with the entire situation. And as if this wasn't troublesome enough; she wasn't able to find any medications in her drawer. She checked in the nightstand, closet, shelves, counter. Nothing, she couldn't find anything and the pain in her stomach was becoming more and more unbearable.

She couldn't leave the palace this instant because she needed to take care of Daisuke first. She entered his room writhing a little because of how much it hurted her. She already hated everything about this day and everything around her, she became more stressed and more emotional. She tried to wake him up gently at first but when he didn't react on her attempts right away, she took the glass from his nightstand and showed it back somewhat forcefully, making a loud thud. Daisuke jumped a little from how startled it made him and Suzue greeted him with annoyed look on her face.

"Butler already informed me about the breakfast. You're free to come down and join." She handed him certain clothes without asking for approval "You can also put these on. I'll be waiting for you once you're ready."

Suzue turned around and left without putting much of a conversation between them. Daisuke noticed how stiff she looked but concluded that she probably "woke up on the wrong side of the bed" and therefore didn't want to ask further about it. Still, it wasn't like Suzue to be this irritated in the morning since he always got used to her friendly greetings and a big smile on her face. He got himself dressed and went downstairs where an elegant spacious dining room was located.

A classic British breakfast was served, 7:30h, the pair was sitting at the dark wooden table with magnificent displays of gold plate from George IV's enormous collection and enjoyed their meal. If you were just a mere visitor to their household you probably wouldn't notice such things, but Daisuke was perfectly aware of Suzue's unnerved behavior. She cut her meal quite frustrated and she even criticized the lack of flavor in it. And although she wasn't showing it as much, her dissatisfaction was present and she became angry, much to Daisuke's surprise. Daisuke grew worried because, for him, the meal tasted just fine and as much as he wanted to hold himself back from further antagonizing her when she already felt bad enough, he couldn't ignore it and he needed to interfere. He didn't have the heart to ignore her like this.

"Suzue. Did you sleep well last night?"

"Of course I did. What kind of question is that supposed to be?"

Ouch that hurt. Daisuke would usually feel offended by such an act but this was Suzue he was talking to so he decided to be stubborn.

"I don't know. If someone upset you in any way you're free to tell me and I'll take care of them personally."

"Daisuke-sama, with all due respect I'm not feeling especially obligated as of today's date to worry much about when I'm supposed to be free to do something or not. I am a person, I have feelings, and I'll decide on doing things when I'm feeling like doing them. I'm not asking for anyone's permission to express my free will."

Suzue took her plate, handed it to butler and left the room.

For the first time in a long time Daisuke felt broken. It's funny because he usually never paid attention to other people or their unnecessary outbursts of emotions which he always found uncomfortable and incredibly impractical, but then again, this was Suzue he was talking to and he became seriously worried about her.

Whenever he wanted to check on her she made an annoyed expression and whenever he tried to start a conversation with her she ended it quickly.

"That video you wanted to show me the other day-"

"I changed my mind. It wouldn't be as entertaining for you because you never find anything funny anyways. I wonder what satisfies you anymore."

Another low blow and Daisuke felt like crumbling. Although he decided that he'll wait for her until she calms down. Or not? He wasn't used to her lack of attention and he enjoyed it so much while it lasted. Suzue was usually the clingy one in their relationship but today the roles were switched and he wanted to bring the old smiling Suzue back.

"What do you say about watching your favorite series together?"

"I watched it yesterday, today is the rerun."

"I brought you some fashion magazines I thought you might like."

"Thank you, I'll check them later."

"Would you like to check these new gadget parts I found with HEUSC? He couldn't estimate the quality of the product so I'm asking for your opinion."

"I'm not interested as of now, I'll search them when I have the time."

"Would you like some tea in your favorite kitty cup?"

Suzue put down whatever she was reading at the moment and looked at him with serious expression on her face.

"I'm perfectly capable of making tea for myself. I'm sorry Daisuke-sama, but why are you being like that?"

"Like what?"

"The way you're being, you're unusually clingy today and I didn't even ask for any of it. Why are you giving me such a hard time? I need a break."

Suzue was about to climb the stairs which led to her bedroom.

"I'm sorry." Daisuke said quietly and Suzue instantly stopped on her tracks. She never heard him talk like this before and it broke her heart. She could feel his hurt and regret and she wondered how it came to all of this.

Daisuke continued "I took a day off with the intent of spending more time with you and although I'm really bad at showing what I feel when expressing myself most of the time, the idea of being with you after so long made me feel genuinely happy. I'm sorry if it sounds self-centered or selfish, I'm always talking about me and my feelings when I never considered asking other people about their own. I always pre-determined what others should be doing without giving it that much thought about their opinions before coming up with my own decisions. And no matter how much I try I'm always screwing it up, I'm a terrible person."

When he looked up at Suzue he wasn't expecting her to cry and he became alarmed.

"Y-you're not a terrible person. Please never say that again. It's me, I'm the one who screwed everything. M-my stomachache won't subdue and I didn't take my painkillers."

...

"Oh."

Daisuke came up to her on the stairs and picked her up bridal style. Suzue squeaked a little.

"W-what are you doing?"

"I'm taking you to my room because I know where the stuff I'm looking for is placed. But I can always take you to yours if you tell me where you're keeping things."

"I-I don't mind your room.."

Daisuke smirked at her.

"DON'T GIVE ME THAT FACE MR.!!"

"Okay okay, jesus." he kissed her forehead and pushed the door with his leg.

Once he placed her on the bed, he tucked her in a bunch of pillows and blankets and gave her the phone.

"I'm sorry to say this but please wait for me 20min or so, I'll try to come back as soon as possible."

With this said, Daisuke disappeared into the hallways and left Suzue alone with her thoughts. She knew that Daisuke gave her the phone to entertain herself but right now she couldn't think of anything else but the thing that just happened between them and the way she mistreated him this entire time. The guilt squeezed her heart and worsened her stomach pain.

Daisuke, on the other hand, mentally panicked because he didn't know what to do right now. He never had a sister and his mother died and he absolutely didn't have the slightest idea on what to do. He did his research with HEUSC, he talked to butlers and once he grasped the concept of it, he drew his Bentley Continental GT *maniac style like he always did* to the nearest store and bought

✨💴 EVERYTHING 💴✨ *fu-gou ke-i-ji song playing in the background*. Even the cashier lady couldn't believe that a man could look this badass while buying half of the aisle lmao.

Daisuke returned on time with butlers helping him carry everything and Suzue looked surprised upon seeing so many bags being brought into her room.

Daisuke approached her with a bag of his own and squatted next to her.

"Here we have pain killers, snacks, napkins, hygiene products, essential oils, I even bought heating pads and massage pillows. I didn't know whether you'd prefer Twinings or Yorkshire so I bought them both-"

"You bought the companies?!"

"I bought the tea."

Suzue sighed in relief.

"And I bought cocoa, chocolate and double-layered socks to keep you warm."

"What's the package at the bottom of the bag?"

"Oh.. it's nothing."

"Daisuke-sama you're terrible at lying."

"Alright. It's something that I bought just in case."

He took the package out and Suzue blushed.

...

"I'm.. not implying anything it's just to make you feel better. If you want you can use me as well.."

".. Thank you."

The blush couldn't leave both of their faces so Daisuke put everything aside and headed towards the doors.

"I'm going to make Earl grey because it goes well with chocolate. I'll be right back."

With this said, he left the room and Suzue squeaked in her hands.

Did he.. seriously just thought about the things she assumed he did? He really considered it for her own sake..

When he returned he placed the painkillers, cup of tea and chocolate box on the nightstand before joining her on the other side of the bed. He searched Claire Luvcat and they watched Cream Heroes together. Suzue smiled so much upon looking at the screen showing her beautiful kittens. Daisuke made her smile again and it made him proud.

"Which one is your favorite?"

"Oh" Suzue was taken by surprise "I like Lulu because he's funny and cute."

"Should I buy him?"

Suzue just laughed sweetly "No it's her cat, I'm pretty sure she wouldn't put her cat on sale for any money in this world. Besides, the cat would be really sad when separated from her owner. It's where he belongs, they're practically inseparable."

"Like you and me?"

Suzue squeaked again and Daisuke smiled.

"Mr. Coco reminds me of Furry Elise a lot. I like him, they'd have a nice litter."

"Thinking of becoming a breeder?" Suzue teased him.

"Not really, although it brings good money. Somewhere around ¥158.386,50 for a kitten."

"Seriously?!"

"Yes if the parents are two purebred cats. Coco is a British longhair and Furry Elise is Maine Coon. Besides, you'll get too attached and wouldn't allow me to separate them from you so it's a losing game."

Suzue laughed fondly "It's true, sometimes money can't buy everything."

Daisuke hugged her closer to himself and kissed her head.

"Daisuke-sama.."

"Hm?"

"I wanted to apologize for everything I told you early in the morning. I didn't mean it, the things I said were not true and it was reckless of me to even address you with such disrespect. You were trying to make me feel better this entire time and everything I did in return was rejecting your every attempt. I'm so sorry for offending you like this."

Daisuke turned her face gently towards his own and made her look him in the eyes.

"You'd never offend me, Suzue. There's no way in millions years that you'd be able to do things like this, because you're kindhearted and overall a beautiful person. Remember that."

Suzue looked at him with so much adoration in her eyes.

"Besides, you're right. I'm not the one to decide what people should do with themselves and by not doing anything for you when you needed me the most, I'd feel like I'm letting you down and you definitely didn't deserve that. In fact, you deserve so much better and I'd like to live up to your expectations, if you let me."

"I do. I just hope that I didn't ruin your plans for today."

"This is exactly how I wanted it to spend, together with you."

Maybe he didn't deserve her but Daisuke promised himself to make sure that Suzue feels appreciated every single day.

@daisuzuship @innovativestruggles @narcopharmacist @unholysoggytea @riaymei @ieatcrumbs @cow-goes-oof @matchabucks @bluegleeful @levi-is-heicho @kakooshi @kokorokai @darknessrxse @fluffyyagiza @geniusmeemee @sungmnnnn @koalarin @alstroemerie @petiamaximoff38 @hellohellokookie @marialenikiforov @milcyuw

Smtng short but sweet. Hope you like it! 💞

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Nine

Summary: You find out you’re going to be leaving and won’t be back until after your birthday. Ben devises a plan for before you leave.

W/C: 2.2k

<<Previous, Next>>

When you woke up the next morning, Ben had already gotten up. Sitting up, you saw him walk in with two cups of coffee in his hands. He had already put the creamer and sugar in the way you liked it.

“How did you know?”

“I’m a fast learner. Plus, I asked Siara.” This made you laugh as you took the warm mug. Taking a sip, you looked at the time. You were surprised with how early it still was; a few hours until you needed to be at the office.

Ben walked back out of the room to come back with a plate that held a few pastries. Placing it on the bedside table, he explained, “My neighbour is an older lady who loves to bake. I often talk to her and listen to her stories of her life. She likes to bring me samples of her work in the mornings before I leave.” Somehow, you weren’t shocked by this. He even seemed like that type of person.

While you showed him a warm smile, the two of you enjoyed the pastries and coffee as he told you some more about his neighbour. Her name is Emily and she has two kids, one boy and one girl, who come to visit her once in a while. Apparently, she tried to set Ben up with her daughter once. Emily had been too late as her daughter had met the man that she’s now married to. 

Time went by slowly as you enjoyed every moment. Eventually, though, you had to get ready for the day of work. Ben had already gotten dressed, sparing his tie and dress coat, leaving the top few buttons of his shirt undone. You enjoyed this look a bit more than his usual. Well, take away the day he wore a waist coat.

Leaving you in privacy, he went back out of the room to pack up his briefcase. You didn’t take long to get ready, as you always did. The morning you spent with him packed a bit more energy for the day. 

Together, you walked to the office, hand in hand. When he had to go to his office on the floor below yours, he convinced you to let him bring you to your office before he went to his. Knowing you wouldn’t win either way, you agreed. His argument, “I’m early anyways,” which made you laugh.

Paisley was at her desk with Siara beside her when you came down the usual stretch to your office. The two of them were giggling, failing to hide it. You gave a sportive grin and shake of your head as you made eye contact with them.

Ben brought you to your door as you said, “Okay, you really need to go to your office now. I don’t want you to be late for anything.” You placed a hand on his chest and absently traced his lapel.

Giving you a smirk he joked and leaned closer, “I’m in the building and Siara is right there. So technically, I’m where I need to be.” 

“Seriously, Ben,” you said with a laugh. With an exaggerated sigh, he finally gave in. “I’m sure I’ll see you sometime today.” You grabbed both lapels and gave him a quick kiss before he nodded and reluctantly left. 

Intentionally avoiding their gaze, you went into your office before Siara and Paisley could say anything. 

Despite your best efforts, they made their way into your office and closed the door behind them. Paisley started, “So, you two are moving along at a steady rate, and I need more details.” Siara agreed with a fast nod of excitement.

“Does it have to be now?”

“Not unless you’d rather us ask Ben instead.” Sadie said this in a mischievous manner. Your eyes widened in panic as they laughed to themselves. Giving in, you told them everything as quickly as possible, excluding last night. Last night was one you wanted to keep to yourself.

The two women looked on with dreamy eyes as they intently listened. 

Trying to get them to leave, you told them, “I really need to work now. I’m sure you have lots to do as well, Siara.” That finally got them to leave you alone, or in Paisley’s case, get back to only talk about business.

-

After about another couple of months, things with you and Ben were going really well. There were nights where he stayed at your house and others where you stayed at his apartment. When he didn’t have too much work, Ben would take you to dinner or make it at your place. To be honest, it was most nights, with only a few that you spent apart. More often than not, he would be the one cooking and occasionally would bake something for dessert.

While at work after these weeks, Derek came into your office while you were conferring with Paisley. You gave him a nod of greeting as he let you quickly finish your discussion.

“Sorry to bother you,” Derek started as Paisley walked out, closing the door behind her just in case this was a more private meeting. “I just received word that we may have a new writer joining us.” 

“Well that’s great news. When will they make the sure decision to join us?”

“That’s the issue.” Confusion set in as you tried to figure out what he meant. “She doesn't know if she is even going to publish the book at all. Her lawyer let me read it with her permission, and it’s absolutely amazing.” Derek took a deep breath, containing the many emotions he had in the current situation.

You desperately wanted to know what he was getting at. Derek had a tendency to drag a moment on before saying what the purpose was.  

“So,” he continued, “I asked her what it would take from us to get her to choose us to publish it.” You encouraged him to continue. “She wants us to go to her for two weeks and tell her why she should choose us.”

“Two weeks? Why that long?” You nearly yelled this loud enough that everyone outside of the office could almost hear, if they were silent. Shock was all that filled your mind.

“I really don’t know. Bonding was her word for it. More and more authors these days want to be friends with their publishers lately. Not only that, she wants a proper rundown of everything. That’s why I’m bringing you, so that you can explain the marketing side of it with her.” Derek finished and let you have a moment to take all of it in.

Then, a thought occurred to you, “Does she not want anyone from legal to come?” Derek only shook his head.

“She said that she was willing to deal with that part after, if she agreed.” You really tried to open a window for the chance that Ben could come, but you had to respect the author’s wishes. Anything to get them to come to you. 

Derek started toward the door, “I’m sorry it’s so short notice as well, as we’re leaving two days from now.” 

Keeping your reaction restrained while you discussed last details with Derek, you asked him to close the door when he left. You wanted to scream for so many different reasons.

Excitement filled you along with discontent. The thought of being away for that long from everyone, especially Ben, put you off. With Ben, things had started getting super good. You guessed, in a way, this would put a test on your relationship. 

There was nothing else you wanted to do other than go and tell Ben. Of course, though, you told Paisley first as she would be alone for the next while. You knew she could hold it up as you had taught her more than she really needed to know how to do. Then, it was the journey to Ben’s and Siara’s office. You really hoped that you could pull him to the side for a few minutes so that you could let him know what was happening. 

Nothing but urgency to tell Ben filled your mind. Then relief replaced it when you saw him not far from the elevator when the doors opened. He looked up from the file in his hand and met your gaze with a smile. It fell and a slight look of concern had taken over when he saw your stressed countenance.

So you could meet him quicker, you took quick steps as he asked, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, but can I talk to you? Preferably now.” With a quick nod, he brought you to one of the empty conference rooms that hardly gets used. Ben made sure that the door was closed so that privacy was guaranteed. 

Asking what was happening, his perturbed state showed through as he thought something terrible happened. “It’s really nothing bad,” you said this in a calm voice, helping Ben slightly relax. You continued, “Derek just came in and told me that an author was thinking of joining us.” 

For Ben, confusion set in as he tried to figure out why this was so urgent. 

“But she wants us to go to her for two weeks to ‘bond’ so she can see if it’s really a good choice.”

“Why do you need to go then?”

“She also wants a preview of what marketing is like or something, according to Derek. I tried to get you to come but she doesn’t want anybody from legal there. She said she’ll deal with that after, if she signs on.” Ben gave you a smirk as he stepped forward to put his arms around you.

“That’s fine. We can call every day if you’d like. When do you leave?”

“The day after tomorrow.” You placed your hands on his chest as his eyes opened wide with shock. “That was my reaction too.” Laughing at him, his face slowly turned into a soft smile.

Bringing his face closer to yours, he said, “Well, we have tonight and tomorrow to do something, if you’d like. Why don’t I stay over at your place. That way you can get ready for the trip but still have my company.” His look was overweening as you stretched a bit further to meet his lips.

“I could never say no to that,” you said, pulling your lips away from his. “The only other bad part about the upcoming two weeks is that my birthday is near the middle of it. Which means I won’t be able to celebrate it with anyone other than Derek and someone I hardly know.” Ben pulled you slightly closer.

Faintly swaying from side to side, almost in a dance, he said, “Then we’ll celebrate it early. Why don’t we go to dinner tonight with Paisley, Siara, and their boyfriends. Well, if they can make it, and make a celebration out of it. I know Siara isn’t busy tonight.” 

A large smile spread across your face as you nodded. 

“Then,” he continued, “It’s a plan. Tomorrow, we can do whatever you’d like. I’m sure you’ll have the day off to prepare, and I know Siara will be fine alone for a day.”

“Ben you don’t have-”

“Oh but I do,” he cut you off. “Besides, there’s almost nothing scheduled for tomorrow and today is almost done.” You looked into his eyes with great fondness.

A knock at the door drew both of your attentions away. Telling them to open the door, you saw Siara’s head pop in, “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to talk to you both quickly.” A knowing smile was on her face as she fully stepped in and walked towards you.

What she had needed to talk about really was quick. Siara’s interruption actually did give an opportunity to talk about the plans Ben had made. Her fast agreeance to letting Ben take the day off for tomorrow took you a bit by surprise. Though, Ben had told you there wasn’t much in plan for the next day. Surprisingly enough, Siara’s boyfriend, Brian, was actually free to come as well.

Kissing Ben goodbye, you made your way back upstairs to talk to Paisley about the plan. As you had projected, her reaction was one of overexcitement. “Of course Freddy and I can come.” Freddy was Paisley’s boyfriend of two years. You and Siara had a running bet as to when he would finally propose. 

Paisley had gone straight to her phone to tell Freddy about the plans they now had. Compared to Paisley, Freddy was a lot calmer, yet he was still a very sociable person. They weren’t only a cute couple, but the dynamic seemed to work so well. 

“So, where are we going to go?” 

“I was thinking Rick’s.” Excitement filled Paisley’s eyes.

“Great. Maybe he’ll tell more stories about you,” she nudged your shoulder then looked back down at her phone. She left you to go to your office to finish the day’s work.

There was a note on your desk from Derek telling you to take tomorrow off. Ben called it. The plan was now in full swing.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @alyssa-skywalker

[ren1327]

Sweater Weather ch.5

Ben and Kenji watched Bumpy as she slept on Ben’s lap, Carmen sitting next to him to stroke her flank as she read her new manga, brown eyes scanning over each detail of the art.

Kenji had sat on the sofa and Ben flush against him, acting as the comfortable partner and lover.

But Ben couldn’t help but feel how comfortable Kenji was. How well he fit to his side. How warm this image of them with a dog and his sister relaxing in the living room was. He leaned his head back and Kenji looked away from the movie to nuzzle in his hair.

Ben wanted this to real if only to feel the comfort and trust in that single moment.

“Dinner’s ready.” Candy said as she came in, pausing to look at them and smile.

Bumpy yipped and stood, stretching before she followed Candy to her new bowl in the corner of the dining room on a soft rug.

Ben got up and Kenji followed, Carmen calling she wanted to finish the next few pages.

Kenji pulled out Ben’s chair and smiled when he sat down with a soft thank you.

Once Carmen was seated, Kenji sat between where Kosei would sit at the head and Ben.

Candy brought out a savory casserole with meat, cheese, tortillas and chili. She then placed down bowls of red rice, refried beans, chips, red and green salsa and cabbage.

“Enchilada casserole!” Carmen said excitedly, then looked at Ben from across the table. “It’s Kenji’s favorite!”

Kenji nodded and was happy to help Ben fill his plate.

Once he had a substantial amount of everything, Ben noticed they were watching him. He then saw that they were holding hands.

“Are you comfortable with grace, Ben?” Candy asked.

“I…yes ma’am.” He said and took Kenji’s and Carmen’s hands.

The family closed their eyes and he noticed only Candy and Kenji bowed their heads. He quickly closed his own eyes as Candy prayed outload.

“Dear provider and father above, thank you for reuniting our family this winter. Thank you for the safe journey of my son and our transition into our new home. Thank you for blessing us with Ben and Bumpy. And thank you for giving us so much more to be thankful for and love. And we say”

“Amen.” She and her family chorused.

Ben lowered his hands and smiled, blushing as he held back tears.

“Ben?!” Carmen asked and Ben quickly wiped his cheeks.

“Sorry. Sorry. It’s just been a while since I’ve prayed.”

“We don’t expect you to be obligated to, Honey.” Candy said and Kosei nodded.

“How you express or don’t express your faith is up to you. But thank you for joining our thanks.” Kosei said gently.

“Does your family have a faith?”

“I uh, I think we were Jewish.” He said.

“Think you were?” Kosei asked.

“Um, my mom was the religious one and um…my Uncle got work overseas so it’s uh…just been me.” He said.

“What?”

“I didn’t want to stress my uncle out and he knew I was with friends and I haven’t…I haven't even told him about Kenji to be honest. It’s been so long and I…”

“Oh, Sweetie.” Candy whispered. “and your mother—”

“Mom.” Kenji said and she covered her mouth in surprised.

Kosei sighed softly as Carmen looked from her parents to Ben, slowly putting the pieces together.

“Oh, Ben. I'm sorry…” She whispered.

“It’s okay. She’s with my dad and I know if I work hard, I can make them proud.” He said, sounding robotic at this point.

“Well, if it’s not too candid…You always have a place in this family. Even as a friend.” Kosei said and Ben smiled, wiping his cheeks again.

“I’m sorry. I made dinner awkward.”

Kenji put a hand on his and look him in the eye. “Never be sorry for expressing how you feel.”

Ben nodded as he looked down at his food. He took a bite…

And coughed hard, grabbing a napkin and holding it to his running nose and burning mouth.

“Oh my gosh!” Carmen said and gave Ben his water. “Kenji! Did you give him the green salsa?!”

“What? It’s not that hot?” Kenji said, grabbing his own napkin for Ben to switch out.

“Mijo, you’ve been eating jalapenos since you were in diapers! Mamita, get him some of the banana milk.” She said.

Carmen quickly got up and returned, twisting open a school cafeteria looking yellow bottle of milk and handing it to Ben, who sipped it slowly, panting softly as he finished it. He then whirled on his pretend boyfriend.

“You’re not human!” He said to Kenji, who was trying to hold back his laughter.

“Stop…stop laughing…” Carmen said, placing a hand over her mouth to hide her own smile.

“I reacted horribly the first time I had the green salsa too, Ben.” Kosei said. “I was sweating while pretending I wasn’t affected, then got sick later.”

“I told you not to put so much. You need to build up to that amount!” Candy said and Ben laughed imaging such a regal looking man sweating and red faced.

“Okay. Stay away from the green sauce.” Ben said. “I’ll remember for next time.”

He took a bite of the casserole and nearly melted.

“Wow…”

“One of the perks of my marriage.” Kosei joked, making Candy huff and roll her eyes with a smile.

“One of many, I hope.” She said.

Kosei took her hand. “Too many to count.”

“Ew. Mom. Dad.”

“Oh, they get to flirt, but us older folk don’t?” She asked her daughter, who giggled.

“So!” Carmen said, gaining everyone’s attention. “How did you two meet?”

“Online.”

“Friends.”

Ben and Kenji looked at each other and Kenji stuttered.

“W-well, we met through friends online…”

Ben put his hand over Kenji’s, smiling at him with steely eyes. Kenji’s mouth shut as Ben hunched his shoulders.

“Its kind of embarrassing really.” He started. “You see, he was video chatting with Sammy. And Sammy and I have been friends for so long…we were comfortable around each other. So one day, while Yaz was at a retreat, I had gotten out of the shower and was only in my boxer briefs because I forgot my clothes in my room.”

Carmen and Kosei looked scandalized as Candy covered her mouth.

Ben blushed as if it were true as he continued. “So, being so comfortable with Sammy, I was drying my hair as I walked nearly naked past her and Kenji unfortunately got an eyeful of my pale chicken legs. The scream I let out.”

Kenji chuckled just imagining the scene.

“And then I asked him for his number.” Kenji said with a shrug.

Candy laughed. “That sounds very like you, Kenji.”

“Texting Ben and calling him leveled me down. Made me want to come back just to…” He paused and shook his head, interlacing his fingers with Ben.

“He makes me happy.”

“So you two are still new to a lot of things.” Candy said. “Despite talking for three months.”

“Yeah.” Ben said and smiled at Kenji, almost genuinely. “He’s way taller than I expected.”

“But you’re just as cute.” Kenji said, making Ben blush deeply.

“Aw~!” Carmen cooed and Kosei scoffed at his daughter.

“Now, now.” He said, then turned to the boys. “Ben, I never asked. Do you prefer a separate room?”

“Excuse me?”

“Dad!”

“We understand how couples are and respect how you express your love.” Candy said. “As long as you’re safe. However, if you’ve only started being together…”

“Stop, stop this now.” Kenji said.

“I’ll be okay with Kenji.” Ben said with a nod. “He takes really great care of me and respects my wishes.”

Kosei nodded in approval of his son. “I am very happy to hear so.”

“Ben, I have to ask because it’s been bothering me…what’s that scar on your upper arm?” Candy asked.

Ben looked at the jagged scar on his left bicep. He covered it.

“It’s…from an old relationship.”

Carmen gasped and Kosei placed his glass down, eyes hard as he looked at Ben. Kenji squeezed his hand.

“What?”

“It was way before I met Kenji.” Ben said. “And I never brought it up because…”

“No, sweetheart, I’m so sorry.” Candy whispered.

“It’s fine. He’s…” He took a deep breath. “He’s gone and I’m far, far away from him.”

Kenji pulled Ben’s hand to rest on his chest. “Ben…don’t be scared to tell me things. I won’t judge you, ever.”

Ben smiled and kissed Kenji’s cheek.

“Thank you. All of you.”

 Ben sat on the king sized Ben in Kenji’s room.

It was decorated in shades of red and gray, as opposed to the white and blue outside. He was dressed in an old t-shirt and pajama pants, Kenji showering.

The room was very…sparse.

It had rich dark wood furniture, plush latte colored carpet and pale pastel yellow walls that could be white in different light. Rich strawberry red bedspread and rugs and grey curtains and armchairs next to a white brick fireplace with a glass guard. There was a desk, a small table next to the large window with the armchairs next to the fireplace and with another tall, small surfaced table. The bed was in the middle of the back wall, two nightstands holding touch lamps and piled with soft velvety red and grey pillows overstuffed, but comfortable enough to leave on when going to sleep.

Bumpy snored from her plush pet bed near the heating vent, exhausted from the busy day she had.

Ben felt himself already getting sleepy as he read one of the books Yaz had bought him as an early Christmas gift. He looked at his phone

He text Sammy.

B: I told them about J

S: WHAT?!?!?! Ben, you didn’t have to!

B: It felt right. I trust Kenji.

S: Okay. How do you feel?

B: A little better tbh Like Like I have some more eyes looking over my shoulders to watch my back Idk

S: Kenji would kick his ass into next year! I WOULD TOO!

B: Thanks, Sammy. We’re heading off to the hotel tomorrow. I’ll send you some pictures.

S: Be safe! Yaz said to say she misses you.

B: I miss you too. Love you both.

S: <3

 Kenji came in dressed in flannel pajamas and looked at Ben, who was still curled up on the right side with his book.

“Um…”

“It’s okay. You’re probably cold.” Ben said, pretending to read his book as Kenji draped the damp towel over the back of his desk chair.

“Are you cold?” He asked.

Ben ducked his head a bit, not wanting to make a awkward situation more so.

Kenji reached into his bag and pulled out the soft knitted blue sweater he had worn to dinner. He held it out to Ben.

Ben blinked and suddenly, Kenji blushed.

“Sorry! I’ll get you a clean one or—”

“I’ll take it.” Ben said, taking it from his hands and pulling it over his shirt.

He blushed as he smelled Kenji’s cologne on the collar and wrists. Kenji got in bed next to him.

“What are you reading?” He asked Ben.

“A sequel series of this young adult…um…It’s a little complicated, but it focuses on my favorite characters from the first series.”

“Read a bit to me?”

“You wouldn’t understand it.” Ben said. “But if you want me too, I can explain plot details and stuff...”

“Okay.” Ben said and found where he had paused. “Magnus saw hundreds of masked people in elaborate costumes dancing in unison, and around them was music that could be seen as well as heard. As if ripped from a black-and-white sheet of paper and turned into bright, living shapes, the notes floated in the air, drifting along currents of musical lines and wrapping around the glittering masks and elaborate hair of the dancers. Along the ceiling, the constellations were moving; no, they were the orchestra…”

He noticed Kenji had relaxed and was dozing off, soft snores floating from him. Ben placed his bookmark inside the page and placed it on the nightstand. He touched the lamp, and the room went dark.

Kenji wiggled closer and hugged him loosely around the waist.

He smiled and pretended this was his life, with a loving boyfriend and his family and safe and loved—

“Sorry…Brooklynn…” Kenji groaned and Ben froze. He pulled away and rolled over, leaving Ben cold and feeling empty.

[mindingmyownbusiness]

Rescue (5/?)

Pairing - Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU Summary - You’ve always believed your soulmate was out there somewhere, Bucky not so much. What happens when he finally takes a leap of faith and reaches out to you? Warnings - some canon-typical violence in later chapters, the occasional curse word, but I promise to make up for it with loads of fluffiness Chapter Word Count - 1798 Notes - Posting has gone from once a week to super sporadic lol (sorry everyone!). My goal is currently to have it finished before school starts in a few weeks. Inspired by Rescue by Lauren Daigle and by a lot of the concepts in Sense8.

Series Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

...a few weeks later...

“Dogs or cats?” Bucky was leaning back against his headboard, idly flipping a knife as he listened for your answer.

“Hmmm… that’s a tough one. I’m gonna say cats for right now, dogs later when I have a bigger place. I’d feel bad leaving a pupper cooped up in here while I’m at work.” You rinsed your plate and set it in the drying rack, moving to drain the sink and reaching for a dishtowel.

“I get that. Been thinking of getting a cat myself. It’d be nice to have around but would also drive Sam crazy, win-win. Your turn, Y/N.”

“Any broken bones?” You asked as you hung the dishtowel up and headed to get ready for bed.

Bucky barely stifled a laugh. “More than I care to count, doll, ribs and fingers mostly. Comes with the job.”

You try to picture him shrugging his shoulders like what he said was no big deal as you finish washing your face, shaking your head as the image fails you. “Wow… I forget how dangerous your job is sometimes…” you whispered the last bit to yourself but you knew he had to have heard you.

Not willing to let you dwell on that thought, Bucky presses forward, “How ‘bout you, hmm? Break an arm maybe? Collarbone...?”

“Nope, not a single one actually. I did have to get stitches once but I was so young I don’t remember it. Busted my face on the corner of a table when I was a toddler. Still have the scar.” You peer closer into your bathroom mirror, gently running a finger over the thin white line.

“Ouch… maybe we’ll compare scars one day..”

Bucky sheaths his knife, turning out his bedside lamp and slipping under his sheets, staring up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head. Meanwhile you’ve slipped into your pjs and climbed into bed as well, a comfortable silence enveloping you both as you tuck into a ball under your covers. Your mind begins to wander, the dark and the quiet opening doors to thoughts and questions that typically remain dormant during the light of day.

“Hey Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

“Can I ask you a hard question?”

“Sure…” His heartbeat picked up, suddenly wary of what you were about to ask.

“Did um… w-were you one of the ones that got dusted?” 

He let out a slow breath, the memories of that terrible day playing back in his mind. “Yeah… not the most comfortable feeling.”

“Same. I remember… I remember being so confused and then… nothing. Until we all blipped back that is. Adjusting to a world that went on without you for five years hasn’t exactly been a walk in the park.”

“Tell me about it…” he murmurs, his thoughts going much further back than the five short years you both lost, the statement ringing with more truth than he was ready to admit yet.

You clear your throat, “Well, I certainly ruined the mood.” Laughing nervously you forge on. “Time for a new topic, I think it’s your turn...?”

“Sure, let’s see…  how are things at work?”

“It’s alright, nothing exciting really. It’s not my dream job or anything, but it pays the bills and the girls I work with are pretty nice so there’s that. How about you? I’m sure your job and the people you work with are a thousand times more interesting than what I’ve got going on.”

Bucky smiles fondly, “Well you already know Sam, can’t live with him, can’t work without him. He’s fun to mess with but I couldn’t ask for a better friend or partner… not since my last one anyway... But Sam’s not nearly as reckless as Steve. Steve was a handful in the best of times, always looking for a fight but in a good way, never backed down when he knew it was the right thing to do… Feels like I’ve been watching his back my whole life…”

“Sounds like you two were close? Did he… did something happen...?”

“Oh yeah he ah.. he sorta retired..? Just decided he was tired of putting his life on hold for the next mission. I supported him but it was still hard to see him go.”

“That’s very noble of you Bucky. You are an amazing friend and partner. He was so lucky to have you.” The admiration and pride in your voice is unmistakable. 

Not one for taking compliments well, a flustered Bucky attempts to lighten the situation. “Life goes on right? The world may be getting weirder every day, especially since everyone came back, but I think I’ve found my place in it.”

“That’s so good to hear… I still feel a bit out of place, most of my friends survived the blip and are just in completely different places in their lives than I am. We still talk but I don’t think it’ll ever be the same…” You pulled your blanket tighter around yourself, snuggling deeper into your nest and shaking off the negative thoughts clouding your mind.  “So, tell me more about Sam, what makes him so fun to mess with?”

Bucky can’t help but laugh, “Literally everything. He’s so dramatic and it’s way too easy to push his buttons. Just the other day, we were training and he was working on throwing his shie---umm I mean this new sort of weapon and I mayyyy have been telling him the wrong thing just so it would knock him on his ass. Laughed about that for days.” 

You found yourself laughing right along with him, eventually ending with a sweet sigh. “What I wouldn’t give to see you smile...”

Bucky stops laughing abruptly and you immediately know you’re the cause of the sudden tension between you. Unlike previous times however you resolve not to cave or opt for the awkward smooth-over. Time to face your fears, Y/N.

“Bucky, part of me desperately wants to apologize for saying that but honestly, the rest of me isn’t sorry at all. I really do want you to be totally comfortable with me and I know I promised not to push you but… I need you to know that seeing you, eventually touching and being with you is something I genuinely want. I mean how could I not want that with the man that I lo--” the words stuck in your throat as you caught yourself, “...th-that I’m meant to be with? You’re my soulmate Bucky, you have to know what that means to me, to us.”

Bucky felt like he was torn in two, reluctant to admit that the thought of letting you all the way in was getting to be as stressful as keeping you out but then again he was the stubborn type. “It’s not just about you seeing me doll, it’s about what seeing me will mean, it’s about my whole life and all the crazy that it entails.”

“You know… you know you can be honest with me right? I can handle it, I promise. There is literally nothing that you could tell me that would drive me away from you, okay? Nothing.”

“How can you promise me that?. You can’t possibly mean it. You don’t know… you don’t know my whole story. It’s not a pretty one.” You can feel his walls going up but you can’t hold it in any longer. It’s now or never...

“What if…” you swallow nervously, “w-what if I told you I did know. That I know you better than you think I do...” 

Your words flowed like ice through his veins. “What are you saying Y/N?” 

“I-I started to put two and two together almost immediately, as soon as you told me your name. It’s not that common you know....” He’s so quiet you wonder if he has stopped breathing. Knowing there’s no turning back you continue, “And there were so many little things that kept adding up: that you were so reluctant to let me see you, how you told me you used to be military but now you work in security... that you live and train with Sam, Sam Wilson right? Or that time you were out of contact for a week and the story broke about the Falcon and the Winter Soldier taking down that terrorist cell? I know that was you Bucky, I’m not crazy.”

You took a deep breath, calming down a bit. “Did you really think your soulmate would be that clueless? That the person meant to be with you. a literal Avenger, wouldn't be able to figure it out? I’m not upset with you, I promise. It's not like you lied to me, everything you said was ‘technically’ the truth. But... the more I learned about you the more I confirmed my hunch and the more I felt like I was lying to you, and that just didn’t sit well with me.”

Silence was all you could hear on Bucky’s end but you knew he was still there. You gnawed at your lower lip worried that you had made a horrible mistake. “I wanted to come out and just tell you, so many times, but at the same time I had promised not to push you. I was waiting for you to be ready to tell me but I was also starting to worry that it was never going to happen. Bucky I’m so sorry, I--”

Bucky blurted out, “Why are you still here then?! You should have shut me out already. How could finding out not change how you felt about me? Y/N, I’m not just some guy with a military past and a job that takes me away for days, weeks, sometimes months at a time, that’s enough to put a strain on any relationship. But I’m also over a hundred years old, I deal with literal alien threats, and a-and I’ve killed so many people… those memories, the things they did to me, that part of my life is a literal hellhole, and it doesn’t go away, ever. It’s always with me… all those years without memories and now I’d give anything to forget…” You could hear his labored breathing, the anguish in his voice. Tears welled up in your eyes for him, ashamed that you’d hurt him but also desperate to be the one to comfort him. “Y/N I’m-- I’m sorry, I have to go. I need some space right now.” 

“Wait Bucky, don’t---” and just like that the connection severs. Not completely thank goodness, you can still sense your bond deep down, but you feel as though a chasm has formed between the two of you.

“I’m not going anywhere Bucky… I love you...” you whisper into the silence, hoping somewhere, somehow that he can still hear you.

Part 6

Taggy tag tags: @bucky-plums-barnes @buckyywiththegoodhair @avengerofyourheart @sebspocketsquare @sgtbxckybxrnes @bionic-buckyb  @plumfondler @imaginingbucky @sexonastickstan @angryschnauzer @witchymarvelspacecase @palaiasaurus64 @eyecandybarnes @promarvelfangirl @the-observant-fangirl @ballyhoobarnes @trinityjadec @kjs-s @sebbytrash @true-queen-of-mischief @buckthegrump @moondancewrites @thisisjamesbarnes @beccaanne814 @oneshot-shit @moonbeambucky @stevieang @tnupsweetpie @avenger-nerd-mom @eyesfixedonthesun22 @searchingforbucky @notimetoblog @sugarfreecapsicle @nomadicpixel @nacho-bucky @sarahwroteathing @captain-rogers-beard @buckys-darling @tilltheendwilliwrite @ifellinnthepit

@marie-is-in-the-dark @lorilane33 @igothroughphasesalot

[lurking-umbra]

Bad things happen bingo fill #10: Eating Disorder TW: disordered eating, abusive relationships

When Juno and Diamond were together, Diamond had two rings that they wore all the time, one on each hand, one gold, one silver. Juno still remembered the coolness of them against his cheeks when they cradled his face in their hands, after a nightmare about Ben or when they were apologizing for something they did. Juno hadn't dated anyone who wore rings since, at least not until Nureyev. Nureyev wore an assortment of rings on his fingers, of varying sizes, but somehow they always felt warm against Juno's skin rather than cold like Diamond's. Nureyev took all of them off when the two were in bed together, which helped make it feel different than Diamond.

When Juno and Diamond's relationship started to go bad, if it hadn't been bad to begin with and Juno was just too blind to see it, Diamond began to get rougher and rougher with him. Diamond had always had a temper, blowing up at Juno for small things. Juno still remembered the feel of those rings knocking against his face. As their relationship started to get worse, when the yelling and fighting became closer to once a night rather than only on occasion, Diamond complained that Juno had never bought them anything.

At the beginning of their relationship, Diamond had showered Juno with gifts: skirts and dresses, earrings, alcohol; all more expensive than what Juno could afford with his starting salary at the HCPD. Diamond had been born into money, and when they bought Juno lavish things he could never even hope to afford, they always said it was a gift, because they loved him. Looking back, at some point the gifts had turned from spontaneous delights to apology bribes, given whenever Diamond got really angry and broke his things or hit him.

Diamond had never asked for anything in return, but there wasn't much Juno could buy them that they couldn't get themselves much quicker and easier. Or at least they hadn't asked until things were getting really bad, around the same time they were planning their wedding.

When Diamond demanded for him to buy them something special, Juno had wanted to protest, to say that even though he rarely, if ever, bought them things, he did other things to show he loved them instead. He cooked them elaborate dinners when they were home from work late, he cleaned the apartment they shared from top to bottom, planned extravagant date nights in, and ran them warm baths and gave them massages when they came home with their muscles sore. Things he could do without spending the small amount of free creds he had that didn't go towards necessities. But they wanted more, and Juno was tired of the fighting and getting knocked around. He was tired of being so afraid of treading wrong in his own home, of feeling like he had never really left Oldtown and Sarah Steel. He missed Benten and the ability to hide behind his brother on the rare occasions when he allowed it to happen.

So when Diamond asked for him to buy them something, anything, in time for them to receive it before their wedding, Juno started saving everything he could. It wasn't enough at first, not nearly enough for anything that Diamond would accept, and so he looked at his budget and tried to figure out what he could afford to lose. Most of his salary went towards the rent Diamond charged him for living in their apartment. He often purchased the groceries for the two of them as well, and it didn't take long for Juno to realize that the food would last longer if he didn't eat, like he and Ben would do sometimes when money was tight and their mother hadn't managed to attend work that week. Eating only the bare minimum, making his money stretch further by not purchasing as much food, Juno could do that for Diamond. He could sacrifice the occasional lunches eaten out at the HCPD, eat less on the few times when Diamond insisted on sharing a meal together. If being hungry was what it took to make Diamond happy, Juno didn't mind starving to death, if that was where this was headed.

He could tell Rita worried when he started working through lunch, and he tried to reassure her that he had a big breakfast, or that he would eat while he worked, or that he was saving room for a big fancy dinner date with Diamond. 

Juno wasn't sure when skipping meals to save money became a habit, but he had saved up enough money to buy Diamond a very nice engagement ring, a sign of his commitment to the relationship, within a few months. Diamond had been so happy and things were really good for a short time. They continued to be good, up until the week before the wedding, when everything fell apart so rapidly. 

Some of the details from then were still a little foggy to Juno, the lack of food catching up to him all at once, it seemed, and the stress of both the wedding and Diamond's own stress doing much to continue to keep him from eating. Juno had passed out at work twice in that week, and was once so dizzy while on a foot chase that he had run into a wall.

Even now, years after all of that had happened, Juno still found himself eating less when he thought someone was mad or frustrated with him. It happened less often than it had while he was with Diamond, but Juno had yet to be in any relationship where things were perfectly smooth all the time. So when Nureyev was mad at him for nearly sacrificing himself on a job, Juno stopped eating.

He wasn't sure how it was supposed to help, but it did mean that Juno could avoid being in public spaces with Nureyev. He didn't need to go into the kitchen to eat with the rest of the crime family when he had a small stash of non-perishables hidden in his room that he could eat from when the dizziness started to impede his ability to work. Both Rita and Buddy made mention of seeing him less often in the days since his sacrifice attempt, and to appease them, Juno went back to eating at least one meal a day with the crew, though that was often the only meal he would eat that day. When he thought he could get away with just moving his food around his plate, he did so. His missed meals didn't come to a head until nearly two weeks later when Nureyev stumbled upon Juno half collapsed in the middle of a hallway as he waited for the dizziness impeding his visual field to go away.

"Juno?" Peter asked, and Juno did his best to ignore the way his head throbbed when he attempted to look up at him, only for his field of vision to be the barest of pinpricks surrounded by odd bursts of color. "What on earth are you doing in the middle of the hallway?"

"Can't a lady spend some time alone in a hallway?" Juno asked as he leaned into the wall and pulled himself up to his feet. He startled badly at the feel of hands on his arms, banging his head into the wall and sending his vision into utter darkness.

"Juno?" Peter repeated, and Juno could hear the concern in his voice even as he remained the only thing keeping Juno upright at the moment.

Juno's vision cleared slowly and he could finally see Peter's face and the worry that lined it. He hadn't seen Peter very often since they had their disagreement and he found his heart lifting at the sight of his face. "Hey hon," Juno said with a grin, as he finally gained his footing once more rather than leaning on Peter. The dizziness had finally faded, although the pounding of his head that replaced it wasn't really any better.

"Do you… need to see Vespa?" Peter asked slowly, looking Juno up and down. "How hard did you hit your head and what happened before that?" 

"I'm fine," Juno assured him, stepping out of Peter's grip and moving in the direction of his room. He couldn't remember the last time he had eaten, and that was probably overdoing it. He could grab a granola bar from his stash and he would be fine for the next day or so.

"Juno, you just nearly passed out when I touched you," Peter said, trailing behind him and reaching out for him once more. Juno forced his muscles to stiffen rather than flinch back like he wanted. Diamond had not been so gentle when they were angry with him, even though Juno wasn't sure why he was thinking about them so much or when it had even started.

"It would ease my mind if you would get Vespa to look at you, at the very least."

"Yeah, I will," Juno said despite making no move to turn and head towards the infirmary.

"That's not in the direction of the infirmary."

"I know!" Juno snapped, turning around to face Peter head on. His head gave a particularly bad throb at the rapid motion, but his vision remained clear at least. "I'll go later, okay?" he offered in a softer tone.

"I would much prefer that you go now." 

"I've barely seen you at all recently and now you decide to care about my wellbeing?"

"I would have seen you more if you didn't seem so intent on avoiding me," Peter said with a frown. "The little time we've spent together isn't for lack of trying on my part."

"Oh," Juno said softly. He wasn't quite sure of what to do with the fact that Peter still wanted to spend time with him. "But… aren't you... mad at me?"

Peter stared at Juno for a long minute. Juno resisted the urge to fidget, though he found that he couldn't quite meet Peter's eyes. 

"I am… frustrated with you, yes," Peter began haltingly. "But I am coming to realize that speaking with one another would do much to improve the situation."

"You've been talking with Buddy, haven't you?" Juno asked, a small grin stretching across his face.

"She does tend to offer advice an awful lot for someone who claims not to be a therapist, though I can't help but agree with her in this case." Peter reached out to touch Juno's arm gently and slowly, telegraphing his intentions clearly. This time Juno didn't flinch away, wasn't startled or scared by it. This was Nureyev, the man who trusted him so much that he gave him his name, not Diamond. "Would you be agreeable to us talking?"

"Sure."

The two of them moved down the hall once more, this time in step with one another. Peter let Juno choose where to go, and so he led them into his room. Juno thought about grabbing a granola bar once they were inside, but the thought of trying to eat anything while having a serious conversation about their relationship tied his stomach into knots. Later, then. Peter sat down on the bed and Juno took a seat beside him, just barely within arms reach.

"I must admit that I am not entirely sure of why you were avoiding me," Peter started, once it was clear that Juno was not going to say anything. "I was upset the first few days afterwards, but when I wanted to speak with you, you made yourself difficult to get alone."

"I…" Juno trailed off as he realized that there really was no reason for him to have avoided Peter. He had fallen into old habits from a relationship that hadn't existed for years. "I'm sorry, Nureyev. I wasn't… I wasn't thinking."

"Well you always seem to be thinking something, my dear. You don't have to answer, but perhaps it would help if you shared your thoughts? Or told me what I did wrong at the very least, so that I can do my best to avoid doing so again."

"It's not something you did wrong. I messed up. I knew you were angry at what I did, so I…" Juno huffed, running a hand over his hair before standing up to pace. "It's been years since then, but for some awful reason this reminded me of--" Juno cut himself off before he said their name, as though saying their name would bring them back into his life somehow. He knew it wouldn't and yet he felt terrified at the thought of speaking it out loud. "Someone I dated," Juno continued. "And when they were angry at me they… they weren't nearly so nice."

"Oh Juno," Peter said softly from the bed.

When Juno spun around to face him, the dizziness from before came back with a vengeance, sending him collapsing to the floor as the pounding in his head drowned out all sound for a few long moments.

When Juno came back to awareness, he was sitting on the bed, leaning into Peter's side. Peter held him to his side and upright with one arm as he tapped at his comms with the other.

"What're you doing?" Juno slurred, sitting up slightly even though the movement made his head throb.

"Asking Vespa to come look you over."

"I'm fine," Juno said, reaching out clumsily for Peter's comms. He lifted it easily out of Juno's reach and so he slumped back into Peter's side in defeat. "Just a little dizzy. Nothing a granola bar won't fix."

"Juno, you passed out," Peter said, placing the comms down and wrapping his other arm around Juno as well. Juno melted into the embrace. He had missed this. "I'm worried that you may have given yourself a concussion."

"It's not a concussion," Juno mumbled into Peter's chest. 

"I'll be the judge of that," Vespa rasped from where she stood in the doorway.

"That was fast," Juno muttered as Vespa moved towards the bed. She took out a pen light and shined it into Juno's eye, watching the pupil contract and expand. She then had Peter move away from Juno to perform a few other tests.

"You seem fine," she grumbled once she was satisfied. "You probably don't have a concussion, but Ransom here said you passed out twice."

"It wasn't twice," Juno protested. "Just the one time, the first time I was just very dizzy." 

Vespa narrowed her eyes at Juno. "And have these dizzy spells been happening often? I know you don't have any other conditions that would cause that."

Juno very carefully did not look at either of the other occupants of the room. "I… I may have not been eating enough. ...These past few weeks."

"Juno!" "Steel!" Peter and Vespa yelled his name in admonition simultaneously and Juno winced at the combined volume. 

"I didn't mean to," Juno snapped. "I just… fell back into bad habits."

Vespa eyed Juno warily. "And what are you going to do now that you've realized?"

Juno shrugged. "Do better next time, I guess." 

Vespa nodded. "Eat some food so you don't pass out. A real meal, with balanced nutrients. There's some leftovers from last night still in the fridge." That said, Vespa left, the door closing behind her.

"She has such a wonderful bedside manner, don't you think?" Juno joked.

"Juno." Peter had been frowning since Juno mentioned the reason for his dizzy spells, and Juno realized how much he disliked seeing that expression on him, especially when he was the one to put it there.

"Would it help if I say I'm sorry?" Juno asked hesitantly.

Peter sighed wearily. "It's a start, I suppose, but Juno, why haven't you been eating? I understand why you wanted to avoid me now, but why would you not eat?"

Juno focused down on the edge of the sheets on the bed, flipping it back and forth between his hands. "Back when I… when I was dating…" Juno cut himself off with a huff and tried again. "The person I mentioned before? At one point they… we… I… they wanted me to buy something I couldn't easily afford. But I wanted to be good for them, I wanted things to be good between us and so I… I cut out what expenses I could."

"And food was one of them," Peter extrapolated with a frown.

"And food was one of them," Juno echoed with a nod. "You can make food stretch longer if you eat less of it, and that saves creds. It… was not a concept that I was unfamiliar with, and it worked. And for a while after things were much better than they had been for a long time, and so I just… kept going, in the hopes that they would stay that good."

"I suppose I would be remiss if I said I didn't understand the concept as well," Peter said with a sigh. "I only wish you hadn't felt the need to fall back into bad habits."

"Like I said, Nureyev, it wasn't entirely intentional. But once I realized what I was doing, it felt like it was too late to stop. It was… surprisingly easy to pick up again and now I have to remember how to stop it."

"We can help. The whole crew can ensure that you get adequate food and nutrients." Peter stood up from the bed and held out a hand for Juno to take.

Juno rolled his eye but took the offered limb, leaning into Peter a little more when his head spun dizzily as he stood. "I sure hope you don't intend to be supplying any of those meals."

Peter squawked indignantly but didn't make any other protest. Juno grinned up at him as he leaned back into his side before leaning up on his tiptoes to press a kiss to Peter's cheek.

"Thank you for being so understanding. And supportive. I…" Diamond wouldn't have been much of either. "It's been a while since I was dating someone who cared about me like this."

"And you deserve that and more, Juno. You are a wonderful lady," Peter said with a frown, pausing at the door to the kitchen. 

"Why thank you, Ransom," Juno said with a grin. He lowered his voice and his smile fell slightly. "I'm trying to remember that myself sometimes."

"Well rest assured, I will do everything in my power to remind you of it when you need it."

Juno leaned up and pressed a kiss to Peter's lips, leaning into the kiss when Peter kissed back. When they finally pulled back, Juno was unsure if his dizziness was due to the lack of food or the lack of oxygen. "Thank you in advance."

"Oh it's my pleasure. Now which of our leftovers would you like?" Peter punctuated his statement with a wave of his hand in the direction of the refrigerator.

Juno opened the door to look at his options, and felt his mood sinking at the thought of eating any of them. He knew that he should, knew that he needed to, but he hadn't been lying to Peter when he said that he had to remember how to stop this habit all over again. He grabbed a container randomly, grimacing down at it when he realized what it was. He put the container back and grabbed for one that had some kind of noodles. Noodles were safe, some of the first meals Juno had cooked for himself and Ben when they were younger. The soup that had been in the other container on the other hand, well, Juno had been avoiding soup ever since his trip into Miasma's mind. There was just something about the whole experience that had set him off soup entirely.

Juno took the container to the table where Peter was sitting, a plate and fork set in the place across from him. He used the fork to scoop out some of the noodles from the container, feeling Peter's eyes on him. Instead of feeling reassured, as Peter likely intended, he just felt watched and judged.

"You don't really want to just sit there and watch me eat, do you?" Juno asked half jokingly, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. He turned to put the plate in the microwave, more to do something than because he had any interest in the food, despite the fact that it had been a while since he'd last eaten. 

"Is that all you're eating?" Peter asked rather than answer Juno's question.

Juno stiffened in response, not needing to turn around to know that Peter had a frown on his face. He turned to face Peter slowly, having to remind himself that he wasn't Diamond and that this was different. Peter asked because he cared and was worried. 

"I figured I'd start small," he replied softly. "I can always warm up more if I'm hungry after." The microwave dinged before Peter had the time to respond and Juno was able to turn away from Peter once more. "I've done this before, remember?"

Peter hummed agreeably and Juno grabbed the plate and moved to sit in the seat across from him. He stirred the noodles on his plate, eyeing it warily. He knew from experience that despite his body's insistence on additional food, actually eating would be a bit of an unpleasant chore at first. He also knew that pushing his food around on his plate wouldn't work when there was nothing to distract Peter from his eating habits. He sighed softly before taking a small bite, feeling hyperaware of his chewing and the sensation of the noodles and sauce in his mouth. He swallowed his mouthful down against the wave of nausea that washed over him. This was the worst part of this process, forcing his body to adjust to regularly getting food again.

Juno looked down at the plate of food still left for him to eat and resisted the urge to sigh heavily at the sight. Even that small amount of food felt like an insurmountable task. He glanced up at Peter from beneath his eyelashes, training his gaze back on his plate when he saw Peter watching him intently.

"Juno," Peter drawled, causing Juno to look up at him once more. "Did I ever tell you about the time I stole the ring of Saturn?"

"You stole one of the rings?" Juno asked flatly.

Peter grinned in a way that showed off the points of his teeth. "Not one of the planetary rings, my dear. This was a physical ring, though quite ostentatious, even for my tastes."

Juno snorted. "And just how showy is that? You have a very high bar."

Peter continued to speak, weaving the tale of his heist bit by bit, leaning into the dramatics even more than usual. Juno wasn't sure why until his fork scraped across the bottom of the plate and found nothing. He looked down and realized that all of the contents were gone, and looked back up to see Peter smiling gently. 

"Did you want more, dear?" He asked.

Juno shook his head and stood to place his plate and fork in the washer. "I see what you did there though. … thank you."

"Anytime, dear. Now shall we retreat to your room or mine?"

"Mine, I guess," Juno said after a moment of thought. "If I get hungry again, I have a store of granola bars."

Peter nodded and offered his elbow to Juno. "Away we go."

It didn't take long for the two of them to arrive at Juno's room once more. Juno sat on the bed, pulling Peter up behind him, and rearranging until they were leaned up against the headboard with Juno curled up to Peter's side, Peter's arm around his shoulders.

"Thanks again for everything," Juno managed after a few moments of comfortable silence.

"Any time my dear."

"I'm sorry that I get stuck in my head so easily. I don't…" Juno trailed off as he tried to figure out how to say what he wanted. "I know you're not them. You're very different, but sometimes my brain… sometimes I forget that."

"Well, I will do my best to remind you, I suppose."

"Doesn't it bother you?" Juno asked, his nose wrinkling in a frown. "I shouldn't need you to remind me that you're not… them."

"Juno," Peter said sadly and Juno turned his face slightly to bury it in Peter's shoulder. Peter ran a hand over Juno's head and down his back. "If it makes things easier for you, I am willing to do whatever you need. I don't mind. I know you would do the same for me." Peter's hand slowed in stroking Juno's back as he hesitated for a second. "I would rather not see you pass out from not eating again."

Juno hummed noncommittally in his throat, opening the eye that had closed at the soothing sensation of Peter stroking his back. He stared at the fabric of Peter's shirt, achingly aware of the fact that he didn't want to have this conversation. "I… I'm not sure I can make that promise. You can ask Rita, back when I tried to kick the habit the first time it was… not easy. Sometimes I'm going to forget."

"Like I said before, Juno, I'm willing to step in and remind you, or check in to make sure that you've eaten recently, if that's what you need."

"Yeah, that… that sounds good." He closed his eye once more, focusing on the gentle feel of Peter's hands on his body, one stroking up and down on his back as the other came to rest gently on top of his hair.

He hadn't eaten much, but he already felt a little better, the constant throbbing in his head receding and the dizziness gone. Curled up in Peter's arms, he felt safe, like he could rest for the first time since all of this happened. Peter wasn't angry with him, and even if he was, he wasn't Diamond. Juno didn't have to worry about jumping through hoops in order to salvage their relationship. Juno could relax and know that he'd be okay, that they would be okay, and if they weren't, they would talk about it. 

"Are you falling asleep on me, dear?" Peter asked amusedly, after a long but comfortable silence.

"Maybe," Juno hummed, already partway there.

"Are you aware that it's the middle of the day?"

"Don't you know that that's the best time for napping, Nureyev?" Juno asked, looking up at Peter with a sappy grin. 

"I can't say I've ever had the chance to try it."

Juno's grin widened. "Try it with me now. You can see how nice it is and we can both wake up to the rest of the crew calling us for dinner, confused at what day it is."

Peter was quiet for a few pointed moments. "And you call that good?"

"Oh, yeah. The best kind of naps are the ones that make you forget where and when you are when you wake up."

Peter grimaced. "I'm not sure I see the benefit, but feel free to take a nap if you feel the urge."

"Already on it," Juno replied, snuggling further into Peter's side. He felt more than heard the soft chuckle Peter let out at his response. 

"Sleep well, Juno."

[iam-kenough]

Will you ever notice me? Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Summary: During they wandering in deep snowstorm, man from van der Linde gang found odd looking girl and Dutch decides to take her to camp to see if she can be any use, leading life of outlaw with them. Quickly, new girl develops feelings towards Arthur, but he sees her just as a kid...and she won't take that! It's an original character story that starts in the place where Arthur, Dutch and Micah were supposed to first meet with Sadie. Instead she's already with them. Author’s notes: Hi, I’m new to all that stuff but I tried to write a story and keep this romance slow burning. Also, if the grammar is weird sometimes it’s because english is my second language. ^^ Hope you gonna enjoy it and get back and be ready for drama.

Words count: 2790 Chapter 1 Iris heard gunshots sounds coming from the outside and she curled even more, hidden behind big wooden table with rock in her hand. She did not have any plan, she just imagined that if anyone will come here, she will tear them apart. Her knuckles became white as she grasped cold, uneaven ans sharp surface of a rock. Local gang, O'Driscolls have taken everything from her. They murdered her only brother, the only provider of their household and then this bizzare blizzard happened. Gang searched home for food and all she had left in the end was pack of oatcakes. At first she tried to hunt something using a gun or a bow but she didn't posses enough amo for more than one attempt. So she was sitting there, for almost a week without food and water she needed she drank by eating snow. The O'Driscolls killed her brother and would probably kill her but she was small enough to hide in one of kitchen cabinets. Iris was listening in terror as one of Colm's man slaughter her older brother, Olgierd and she couldn't do anything at this moment - all she possessed then was her night gown, wet from sweat she produced in this stressful moment, sticking to her body. All she could do was to not get killed. She wasn't some kid but her small, petite almost elvish frame and big eyes in bright, toxic green color made her look like one. Or at least younger than she really was. Door to her cabin opened and she saw pair of high boots but owner of boots didn't saw her. Good. It was dark and howling of the wind masked sound of her breathing. Iris waited till he turned around to search thru cabinet. She jumped, he screamed and fall on the floor unconscious. - Micah?! - Dutch furrowed his brows - Arthur, come on, we need to check on him. - Sure - outlaw murmured. If it was for him, he wouldn't check if Micah Bell is safe. He would even make sure that whatever put Micah in danger would kill him. Iris grabbed Micah's guns. She wasn't some Missy who couldn't hold weapon properly. Olgier tought her how to shoot. If this weather wasn't so wild and the amount of amo so short she would be prospering much better now. - Miss? Hey! - Dutch tried to use his charming tone and put his hand in the air. So did Arthur, his emerald eyes piercing thru silhouette in front of them. It was a girl, pale and freckeled, with long black hair that was tangled, her green eyes looking in their direction with fear. Arthur saw one more thing in those odd eyes - fury. - Take him and go away, please! - Iris tightened her grip around guns - I have no interest in harming you - her voice was soothing and sad and she tried to ignore the fact it sounded ridiculous. She reminded Arthur of some kind of magic dryad. - You look like you couldn't harm anyone, miss - Dutch grinned and without any waring he catched her in his arms. Iris dropped one of the guns, the other one was fired in the wooden floor. - GO AWAY! - she screamed at the top of her lungs - LEAVE ME BE! I HAVE NOTHING! - Jesus, girl - Arthur chuckled while he was checking on Micah. Idiot was knocked out but throwing him right in the snow will wake him up - Life wasn't best for you so far, wasn't it? - I have nothing - she sobbed, dangling in Dutch's arms like she was toy made from rags - I have only pack of oatcakes...You can have them if you want...but it's already opened - tone of her voice changed. Iris realised that those man will take these oatcakes and will probably rape and kill her. It will be at least quicker death than starvation. Dutch put her on the floor and with quick, swift move he took away another of Micah's guns. Iris eyes was wandering from Dutch to Arthur to Micah on the floor. -I'm sorry for your friend - she murmured and blushed, looking directly at her dirty feet and bruised knees - I wanted to tell him I'm here but he didn't notice me at first and started lurking. I thought that he gonna shoot me if I would make any sound. - You got him right, haven't you - Arthur chuckled and casually grabbed one of oatcakes. Iris moaned in disappointment, she offered them those cookies just because it was right thing to do. They looked like bounty hunters or something worse, but they didn't seem so wild and dirty as O'Driscolls. They didn't kill her so far too. - You seem like you could use warmer clothes and a plate of hot soup, Miss... - Dutch said, waiting for her name. - I'm Iris, sir. My brother Olgierd was murdered by O'Driscolls few days ago and I have no ammunition nor arrows to hunt. If you could just give me that much I won't bother you - she looked eagerly towards Micah's guns that Dutch was holding. - I'm sorry, you've been offered help and food and you turn it down? Jesus, woman - Arthur rolled his eyes and lit a cigarette. It was second time he spoke this way towards her. Iris examined his apparition. He was big, seemed even bigger because of winter clothes. His face was scarred but handsome as hell and he had the deepest voice she ever heard. But her face didn't show any admiration, she wasn't some stupid Juliet waiting for Romeo to save her. Then she looked at other man. Dutch seemed like some sort of uncle to her, his eyes was warm and he was smiling despite he was even bigger and even more intimidating than Arthur. Then she looked at the guy on the floor and sighed.   - I wanna go with you. Even if you gonna murder me in few minutes, that's still better than starving and freezing to death - her sarcasm was sharp even though everyone in room saw emptiness and fear hidden deep in green eyes. She was put on a horse by outlaw's strong hands. He even gave her his coat, navy blue one with nice, tickling fur inside. Her feet still was freezing but she was greatful. She curled her arms around man's body to get even more warmer during trip. He didn't say nothing but he was nicely surprised with her touch, 'cause no woman who just met him would throw her all over him like she just did. Figuratively. - And what's your name? - she asked innocently, making his ear warm with her breath. -Arthur Morgan, miss - he chuckled and clicked his tongue at his horse. FEW DAYS LATER It's been some time since Iris've been rescued. She seemed genuinely happy and she smilled a lot towards others. She proved she can cook better than Mr Pearson and that she could hunt and use guns properly. At first she felt like outsider but Mary-Beth lacked friendship of someone similar to her so badly she basically adopted Iris. She quickly discovered that new girl can read and that they could talk about books and fantasize about fictional romances. That was Iris's face she was showing towards woman in the camp. But she was reserved when it was coming to Micah. He was still throwing daggers with his eyes. - Look, I'm sorry I've hurt you, okay? I won't say it again- Iris said with iritated tone of voice. She has hidden away from everybody and tried to enjoy plate of stew when Micah came, sat in front of her and also was eating but looking right into Iris's face to intimidate her. He was looking like that at her for days, touching bandage wrapped around his head. - I don't accept this apology. I'm gonna stare at you and follow you 'till you gonna lose your appetite and you gonna feel stalked and uncomfortable - and it's gonna be me who's gonna stalk you until you gonna leave the camp. Iris rolled her eyes and breathed havily. - I don't even know why Dutch did bring you - he said with venom on his tongue and then looked at Arthur who joined both of you. - Is he bothering you again, Miss? - he sat next to her. Arthur was eating rather loudly but girl didn't mind. It was slow, weird feeling in her stomach that made her accepting Arthur's weirdness right away. - I'm okay. I guess we gonna have this hate relationship for a long time - she was smiling sarcastically and looking into her plate. - I'm gonna be your nightmare, Iris. - If you fancy me, you should ask me out properly  - she showed him her tongue and left both man. Micah was still furious and was following her with his eyes. Arthur chuckled. - She's something, isn't she. If she wasn't, Dutch wouldn't keep her. We already have too much mouths to feed. - Listen, cowpoke, it's not just about taking her with us. You both took her with us after she knocked me out with a fuckin' rock. She's mental. Arthur didn't say nothing. It wasn't his fight and he didn't like taking to Micah. He knew that as long Iris is part of a family because of Dutch's saying so, she was safe even when Micah threated her like this. She was good kid, too, already helping everyone around. He also liked her cooking for the camp, it was nice change comparing to Pearson's skills. - Iris, Iris! - Abigail ran towards new girl. Her eyes was red and she said something to Iris that Arthur couldn't hear. So he got up and come to listen. - He...he's been missing for two days. Everyone here ignores me and says "it's John" but he has me and he has Jack, he needs to be back! - Shhh... - Iris cuddled Abigail like a bear even though she was smaller than her - I will go and search for him, okay? Brother thought me how to track. Arthur's brows furrowed. - You ain't going nowhere, kid. Not alone. - Arthur, go with her then, I know you two will find him! Please, please find him! Outlaw nodded his head without saying anything. He knew that Abigail won't leave him untill he'll find that idiot husban of hers,  Marston. There wasn't any words that would calm Abigail when John was missing anyway. Iris was following Arthur, both on their horses. She noticed so far that he didn't talk much and he was rather quiet and shy men, writing or sketching in his journal while he wasn't running errands for Dutch. She was a little bit behind him, enough to examine him without being noticed or considered nosy. He was big and tall and had nice, sun-kissed face. He must be from different parts of country then, she told herself. His beard was freshly trimmed and Iris saw few scars on his face, noticing especially one of them, on Arthur's chin while he was looking around for any tracks. - We gonna go on foot from now, horses won't do here. John's close I think- he wasn't looking at her when he's talking. He seemed occupied with everything around him, but Iris. She didn't know he was just shy, because if it come to woman Arthur was always sure they are laughing at him. Girl just thought she's not much of company. But that was kind of good. This way Iris could admire him for a little longer, he wouldn't notice it. That wasn't like she hadn't love interests  before or that she was a hopeless romantic either. But that weird feeling in her stomach was saying "you fancy him, you do". But he won't know it anyway, it's Arthur she was thinking about, the most a-romantic person in the camp. She looked at him even when they were dragging John towards horses. Not constantly, but she peeked every few seconds. His brows were furrowed and he looked rather angry. Well, he was really angry when in no time he had to shoot few wolves. He asked Iris if she's fine with warmth in his voice, ignoring John and his moans of pain completely. When those two returned to camp, Abigail started yelling at John almost immediately she saw him. They were cute, Iris thought. FEW DAYS AFTER Dutch finally decided they gonna have camp in different, warmer place. Snow begin to thawn and the whole bunch of changes coming made everybody excited. They packed everything they had and jumped on their wagon. Iris noticed that Arthur is sitting alone in the last of them and smiled under her breath. There wasn't place next to other girls anyway.-Can I sit here, Mr Morgan? - she asked shyly looking into his eyes. It made her blush a little bit and she put hair behind her ear. She was the only girl in camp having loose hair and it complemented her little face because of deep, black color of them. - Sure, kid - he murmured. Wasn't looking at her either, he refused to notice her rosy cheeks. In fact, when Iris heard being called "kid" something heavy dropped in her stomach.  He sees me like someone immature, she murmured to herself. Girl took a place next to him anyway and the ride begin.Arthur wasn't much of a talker and she started worrying he simply doesn't like her. It was almost a month since she joined the gang and Arthur always seemed cold or not interested when he was sharing tasks with her. So she needed to ask but not too quickly so it won't be creepy. - Are you hungry, Mr Morgan? - she chirped, smiling at him. He looked at her surprised. - And what do you have, kid? Ugh. And ouch. - I have beef jerky I made few days ago with Mr Pearson. Everyone already ate them but I have plenty left. Do you want some? He almost blushed. This girl was so kind to him since her first day and Arthur couldn't figure out why. Normally woman treated him like he was air or creep. But she was no woman, she was young girl, Arthur thought, she will learn someday how to pity man like him. - If you want to share it with me - he smirked. - Why not? You are so nice - Iris saw his hands were occupied. She blinked and came with an idea. It will be even more better than just sharing. Her slender fingers slowly put a piece of dried beef to his mouth and he looked at her surprised. Her cheeks flushed and she brushed his lower lip by accident. With any other man it would be clear, she was sweet on him, but he just chuckled and started looking at road again. Was something wrong with her? It has to be my face that's wrong. No way he didn't notice that! If only I could be a little bit seductive - she breathed out with visible irritation. - Y'kay there, kid? - Yeah. Just thinking. - Oh, I get that. Dutch gave us plenty reasons to think, eh? You sure you want to rob that train with us? I know he told you to, but look at you! She did, actually. Her eyes looked at her slender body and stopped on her cleavage. Hm, that might be one of the problems, I'm flat as hell. She was obviously still thinking about what could put Arthur away. He wasn't. - And what do you mean by that, Mr Morgan? He furrowed. Looked like he's searching for right words. - You know, you look so fragile a-and pale. Sure you don't want to stay in camp and cook or read a book with other girls?  - he seemed awkward, like he didn't feel good when commenting on Iris. - I will make you sure I am made for those things - she chuckled but it didn't sound iritated, just sweet as always - I am no kid, Mr Morgan, just woman in her twenties. Tilly is younger than me. - But she's different case. Just sayin'. I don't wanna bother you - Arthur's voice was kind and shy as always. It has to be breasts then. Or maybe... maybe he doesn't like short girls? Maybe I should do something with my hair, like all mature woman does? Or is it the fact I didn't wear a dress yet? God, tell me how to make him notice me - she was thinking.

[kaitycole]

Shoulders Heavy with Guilt

This picks up after Broken Wooden Fence Posts, basically what Drake was doing as Riley spoke to Jackson.

Summary: Drake finally calls Liam

Word Count: 2717

Pairing (for this piece): Riley x Drake

Warnings: Mentions of a hangover and premarital sex. Pretty bland this time.

Part 8 of WP. To catch up read here.

Tag List: @fromthedeskofpaisleybleakmore  @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @glaimtruelovealways  @bobasheebaby  @bascmve01  @burnsoslow  @the-everlasting-dream  @ao719  @sirbeepsalot  @janezillow  @i-bloody-love-drake-walker  @kimmiedoo5  @choices97 @marshmallowsaremyfavorite  @lodberg @edgiestwinter @marshmallowsandfire 

*I don’t own the characters, just borrowing them*

A/N: I do not condone the behavior of these characters. Yes, I am writing it, but that doesn’t mean I support their shitty behavior and poor choices. Just FYI. 

THUMP

A slightly hungover Drake falls off the couch after rolling too far to the right. Sitting up, he rubs his forehead and blinks before fully waking up. He checks the clock: 11:30AM, before heading into the bathroom to shower.

“Riley?” He calls out when as he dries his head with one towel while another is tied around his waist, “Ri?”

Where the hell is she?

He begins to walk around the house; checking in the nursery, office and out on the back porch but he can’t find his wife. It’s not until he gets into the kitchen that he finds a note stuck to the fridge door.

Meeting with Lynn to go shopping for the baby. Might be out late. – Riley

He’s a little confused on why she didn’t just wake him up and tell him. But he puts little to no more thought on the subject. Riley was strong and independent, so he wasn’t too concerned. Plus, he couldn’t blame her if she needed space from how he’d been acting the last few weeks.

Speaking of, there was someone that he needed to call, no matter how late it was there.

**

Rubbing his eyes, Liam notices that it’s close to 10PM and he’s still working on this trade deal. He told himself that he would attempt not to stress himself gray until after he found a wife; didn’t look like he’d keep that promise. Just as he gets ready to turn his attention back to the paperwork, his personal cellphone begins to ring.

“Drake?” He tries to hold back a yawn, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, I know it’s late, but it’s been a while.” Drake lies, he knows that he should just tell Liam, but he’s not sure what mood Liam’s in or how to approach the topic.

He looks back at the paperwork, surely it could wait another day. Drake was right, the two haven’t really spoken in a bit.

“How are things? How’s Riley?” Liam asks, he pushes himself from the desk and begins walking through the room.

“Things are well and so is Riley. However, I wish she’d pick a paint color for the nursery.”

Liam laughs, “Her indecisiveness can definitely keep you on your toes. I’ll stick to trade deals.”

“Does that mean no royal babies are in the works?”

“I’d need a wife for that and I barely leave my office as it is. So, no. You and the rest of Cordonia are just going to have to wait a while.”

Drake chuckles, “I said baby, nothing about a wife.”

“Drake!” Liam laughs again, “The court always said you were a bad influence.”

He seems to be in a good mood, maybe now is the time?

“Yeah yeah yeah, but hey,” he pauses, “I need to tell you something.”

Liam immediately notices the dramatic change in Drake’s tone. It’s rare that Drake said or sounded as serious as he did in that moment, “I’m listening.”

Drake still wasn’t sure how to tell him and he knew that he should’ve told Liam as soon as he saw Jackson. That it was Liam he should’ve called for guidance instead of Leo, but he didn’t. At first, he felt ashamed that after all these years, his dad could be alive and maybe wasn’t the hero he grew to think he was. Then it became guilt, that he enjoyed the time with Jackson and that made him feel like he was somehow betraying Liam. There wasn’t anything the two had ever kept from each other and here Drake was with the bombshell of a century.

“I’m not sure how to say this, so I’m just going to say it.” He pauses, hoping for the universe to do something to prevent this, but nothing happens, “My dad is alive.”

It’s a few moments before Liam responds, “Forgive me, I haven’t had much sleep, it sounded like you said your father was alive.”

“That’s exactly what I said, Liam.” He takes a deep breath, “Jackson Walker, my dad, he’s alive, Liam.”

“That’s impossible. I was there when you buried him. I went to the gravesite with you.”

“I know that, but you have to believe me. He’s alive,” Drake feels a weight lift from his chest, “And it even seems that we have a younger brother.”

Liam’s world stops. Flashes of Jackson and his mother’s funerals resurface, “Who? You and Savannah?”

“And you.”

If it wasn’t for the wall he was leaning against, he would’ve fallen to the ground. There was no way. Jackson Walker wasn’t his father, how could he have another brother? He was Constantine Rys’ son whether he liked it not half the time.

Drake’s too relieved to have the guilt off his shoulders that he doesn’t hear the change in Liam’s tone. He doesn’t pick up on the fact that everything Liam’s believed in, has completely been turned upside down, “His name is Luke Rys Walker and man, Liam, he looks just like you.”

“Rys? You’ve seen my mother?” Liam can tell Drake is talking, but the sound of his heart thumping in his ears makes it hard to make anything out. His mother was dead. He buried her. He grieved her. There was no way that she was alive out there, right? She wouldn’t have left him for Jackson Walker, right?

“Not in person, but there’s pictures of her.” He leaves out the part where Jackson had told him that it’d just been him and Luke for a while. Drake never asked for more information and he didn’t want to tell Liam something he wasn’t sure of.

“I…I have to go.” Liam ends the call without letting him respond. He calls for Bastien immediately, fills him in and sends him away to gather everything he can about Eleanor Rys and Jackson Walker.

Drake looks down at his phone to see the call was ended before he heads back inside the house. He felt with all things considered, Liam took it well, but he was still going to give him time. Hell, he’d known for almost two months and he was still trying to wrap his head around everything.

**

He walks into the nursery and shakes his head, he wants to get started on painting and laying down the hardwood, but he refuses to paint it before he has Riley’s seal of approval. He wasn’t painting this room more than once and that’s exactly what would happen if he painted the original light gray they decided on.

**

Drake checks his phone and sees it’s close to 6PM and he’s yet to hear from his wife. It was rare that she’d be out this late, especially when she was adamant about dinner being at 5:30PM.

Within a few minutes, the phone is to his ear, ringing.

“Hey honey.”

“Are you okay? It’s getting late.” Drake asks, walking into the kitchen.

“Yes, I’m okay. Just got hung up with Lynn.”

Opening the fridge, he looks for something to cook, “Did you two find anything for the nursery? I was in there today, it’s a bit bare.”

“No, I didn’t find anything while shopping.”

“Oh, there’s always next time. I’m thinking of making spaghetti, when will you be here?”

“I’ll be home soon. Say thirty minutes?”

“I’ll see you then. I love—” Drake hears the beeping from the call ending before he finishes.

I wonder why she’s acting so weird today. Pregnancy, I guess.

**

“Drake! I’m home.” Riley says, closing the door behind here and hanging up her purse. She can smell the sauce from the doorway and realizes how hungry she is.

“Hey,” he kisses her forehead, “Did you have a good time with Lynn?”

“Oh, uhm, yeah I did.” Grabbing a glass, she fills it with water before taking a sip, “What were you up to?”

“Oh, I was going to paint the nursery,” he playfully cuts his eyes at her, “but I just called Liam instead.”

“How is he?” Riley feels like she’s about to burst. In their relationship, she’s never lied to him. A few small white lies about birthday and Christmas gifts, but never about something this big. She felt like a fraud.

“Good. No sign of our little having a cousin anytime soon though.”

“Drake Thomas, you did not ask him about that!?” She playfully hits him with the oven mitt.

“I surely did.” He stirs the hamburger into the sauce, “I don’t want our kids to be ten years apart!”

Riley rolls her eyes, “I’m surprised he hasn’t gotten at least engaged. It’s been, what, two years since the social season? Almost three?”

Drake shrugs, “He says he doesn’t leave his office enough to even look.”

“I mean, there were other women at the social season that he wouldn’t have to leave his office to meet.”

Drake raises his brow at his wife, “Such as?”

“Olivia.” She smirks.

“He,” Drake starts before Riley finishes.

“Sees her as a friend. Yeah yeah, I’ve heard that before. But something’s gonna happen where he stops seeing her that way. Bet.”

Drake shakes his head, “Come get a plate, Cupid.”

**

Drake flops down on the couch next to Riley after he’s finished cleaning the kitchen. She’s absentmindedly flipping through channels that he didn’t even realize they paid for.

“Earth to Ri? You okay?”

“Huh? Yeah,” She chews her lips, “Well no.”

“What’s wrong?” He springs into worry mode.

“Calm down, it’s not that serious.” She grabs his hands, “I wasn’t with Lynn today.”

“Oh? Then where were you?”

She bites her lip even harder, worried, “I went to see Jackson.”

“Jackson who?”

“Your dad.”

“How? How did you know where he lived?”

She lets go of his hands as she turns away from him. “I went through your wallet.”

“You went throu…Riley, what the fuck?” He shouts as he stands up.

“I wanted to know why you were acting so strange. You wouldn’t talk to me!”

“So, you went through my personal things? You couldn’t just ask me?”

“I tried! You just drank for days on end. When was I supposed to ask? Between Jameson and Jack Daniel?” She throws her hands up, annoyed.

He knew she was right. He could’ve handled the last few days better than he did, but it didn’t excuse her behavior in the slightest. He begins pacing the room, not sure how to continue the conversation, “You thought I was cheating, didn’t you?”

“What?” She snaps her head in his direction.

“You found an address and number in my wallet. Then you drove there, you thought I was cheating, didn’t you?”

It wasn’t until she heard him say it that she realizes she really did think he was. It had crossed her mind briefly when she initially found the paper, but didn’t dwell on it until she was actually driving towards the address.

He stood there, waiting for her to tell him he was wrong, that she knew that wasn’t even a possibility, but she didn’t. She just sat there, looking at him.

“Really, Ri? I moved across the world for you. I’d move the sun and moon for you. You’re having my baby and that’s the best you think of me?”

“No, Drake. I mean, maybe for a moment, but I didn’t know what to think. That’s why I went there.”

“But you still thought it. I’d never think that about you.” He storms into the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Getting some more whiskey to deal with your problems rather than talking?”

“Sure am. It’s a new brand called H2O.” He rolls his eyes, “You tell my dad about how his son is a deadbeat that cheats on his pregnant wife?”

Riley glares at Drake, “No. I didn’t tell him I was pregnant. I thought you should do that.”

“Oh, so it’s not your place to tell him you’re pregnant, but it’s your place to go through my things and jump to conclusions?”

“Real nice, Drake.”

“Did you find what you were looking for?” He raises his eyebrows at her.

“What?” She spits at him.

“You went there to get answers, you find them?”

“Obviously since I didn’t know what to expect, I didn’t go looking for anything in particular.”

“Then what’d you do? Seeing how you opened the door to an old man instead of some young and hot raven-haired woman.”

Riley twisted her mouth up, she knew he made that jab on purpose; reminding her of the ridiculous assumption during Liam’s social season that Drake and Kiara had a thing.

“We just talked.”

“You talked? All day?”

“Yes.”

“What’d you talk about?”

She thought back on the nature of what Jackson had told her; all of it being things that Drake should hear from Jackson, not her, “How he and your mother met.”

“You talked to my dad about a story I’ve told you several times?”

But you don’t know the real story. “Amongst other things.”

“Such as?”

“I really think that you should hear it from him. It’s not my story to tell.”

Drake lets out a deep breath. He loves her to death, but she could really piss him off. Then he realized why he was so pissed off.

“So, you’re telling me that he met you and within minutes spills his guts out, but when I, his son, confronted him about who he was, got sent away? What bullshit.” He storms out of the room, slamming the backdoor on his way out.

Riley sighs, maybe going without Drake wasn’t the best decision. However, he did make a good point, but maybe it was easier for Jackson to talk to someone who hadn’t spent their life idolizing him, someone who wasn’t related to him, someone who didn’t expect anything from him. But she could still see where her husband was coming from, everything he thought was a lie which caused her to wonder, how Liam would handle the news.

**

“I’m sorry.” Drake says, rolling over to face her.

After he stormed out to the back yard, Riley had taken a shower and got into bed and it wasn’t long after that Drake got in bed. However, it had been an awkward 45 minutes before either had finally spoken.

“No, I’m sorry. I should’ve just asked you.” She turns the lamp on her nightstand on before looking at him, “I should’ve trusted you.”

He caresses her cheek with his thumb, “I should’ve just told you, even though it felt like no one would listen to me.”

“I hate that I was one of those people.” She presses her forehead to his, “I love you.”

“I love you, Ri. So, what’d you think of Jackson?”

“I think he deserves to tell his side of the story and I know he wants to hear yours.”

“Mine?”

She turns red, she told herself that she wouldn’t go into too much detail. She really did want Drake to hear a lot of what they talked about from Jackson himself. Too late.

“Let’s just say that he didn’t know that your mom left you and Savannah in Cordonia and now he does…”

“He didn’t know?” Drake knits his brows together, “I don’t understand.”

“From what I’ve gathered he thought your mom was still in Cordonia.”

He sits up, his head in his hands, and thoughts clouded. How did he not know what happened? “I don’t understand anything, Ri. Did people really think he died? Or was that a ruse?”

She scoots closer to him, holding his head against her chest.

“Did he tell you? Please just tell me that.”

She runs her fingers through his hair, “He didn’t tell me that, sweetie. But he did want you to come and hear his story.”

He doesn’t respond. The weight of the situation is beginning to weigh on him. It was no longer whether or not this Jackson Walker was his father or not, Drake figured that out. But the heavy questions were starting to come front and center: Was his death faked? Did they know it was faked? Why was it faked if it was? He was too caught up in his hero of a dad being alive, that he didn’t think to stop and realize that maybe he wasn’t the hero he made him out to be.

[writingthingsisdifficult]

The Ghost

The Ghost

A mysterious dark-haired stranger keeps popping up, but nobody else seems to notice him. Are you going crazy from the stress at work?

Word count: 7007

Your words of encouragement and praise spurs me on, so please tell me what you think. I love writing, but if I don't get any feedback, I don't see the point of posting it anywhere. Then I'll just hoard it like the dragon I am.

_______________________________________________________________________

The air was chilly, and the first snowflakes of the year danced in the wind. Inside the office life was hectic as always before Christmas, and even more so for you because Nina had so graciously gone and fractured her arm, and constantly complained how much it hurt whenever she did anything other than gossip with Jeanette and Nadia.

Silently and seamlessly her workload shifted over to you, and you were really reaching your breaking point, even resorting to eating your lunch at the desk, which never ever happened before. 

But when a big client invited the entire office to a celebratory lunch, you felt you had to go. After all, the company was now in your portfolio, since Nina (apparently) was unfit to answer e-mails.

“Hey! Wait up!” You walked as fast as you could – well, limping was more like it, with your busted foot that always seemed to act up at the most inconvenient times.

The rest of the group were walking at a brusque pace, and you were pretty sure they weren’t leaving you behind on purpose. Though, some times, when your mind really got going, you wondered.

Completely focused on not losing your colleagues, you didn't see the man that stood in the doorway. The collision was spectacular, and the only reason you didn't land on you ass in an icy puddle on the pavement was because of the stranger's sharp reflexes.

His hands were gentle, but strong, and his grip around your waist left you both terrified and breathless. When he had made sure you were on your feet and unharmed, he let go of you and stepped back to give you some space.

"I'm so sorry!" you blurted, curtseying out of surprise and gratitude. Feeling your cheeks burn, you looked away and stepped to the side to let the man pass.

He nodded once. “Don’t worry about it,” he replied, straightening his tie and smoothing his jacket. “No damage done. But maybe next time, watch where you're going?"

"Yeah. Yes, of course. Thank you."

The man smiled and left to the street behind you. Alone in the doorway, you closed your eyes and breathed just to get back to reality, before you hurried to keep up with your colleagues again.

When you caught up with Nadia, you were breathing hard and your limp was more pronounced that before.

“What?” she asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Nothing. I just bumped into a man in the doorway.” With an apologetic smile, you followed after her. Once you got close enough, you continued: “Did you not see him? Tall, lean, dark hair?” 

Closing your eyes, you conjured up his face in your mind. He really had the most piercing eyes you had ever seen. “He was gorgeous,” you added, careful to keep your voice low enough that he wouldn’t hear you in case he was still near enough.

Nadia grinned. “Probably not as gorgeous as Parker. I met him on Saturday, and –“ She launched into a monologue so impenetrable even Iron Man’s plasma cutters wouldn’t get through. 

You sighed, knowing your allotted talking time was spent, and you cast a quick glance over your shoulder. Of course the man was gone.

The lunch was a boring affair, as you sat through most of the meal silently after Tim from archives eyed your plate of pasta with a frown and asked in all seriousness: "Are you really gonna eat all that?"

Luckily Mary, who sat next to him, overheard and elbowed him in the ribs before you could answer, but it still left you painfully aware of how you were eating.

The rest of the day was a muted pillow of disappointment and heartbreak. When you finally got home late that afternoon, you couldn't even muster the energy to make dinner. Instead you poured a bowl of corn flakes and collapsed on the sofa.

Forcing the tears of frustration and exhaustion back, you picked up the drawing pad and pencils from where you'd shoved them under the sofa the last time you tried to draw a picture. Nothing calmed you like the sound of graphite over paper, and you made your way through some warm-up sketches before starting on the main picture.

As the face slowly emerged on the paper you started talking. You often spoke out loud when you were drawing or embroidering, usually about something boring and trivial, just to get it out of your system. "So today was a total nightmare," you began, while applying a little more shadow under his eyes. "But Tim only said the truth, I guess. I do eat too much. Could lose a few pounds. But I don't care," you added defiantly, not sure if you believed your own statement. "I'm.. If only... then maybe I'd meet him again, and he'll smile at me and... Ugh!" You groaned to the drawing, dropping the pencil onto the table. "As if he would ever look at me. If I hadn't been so clumsy, he wouldn't have noticed me at all!" 

Looking at the drawing, you shook your head. "I just can't get your eyes right! Why did you have to be so pretty, huh? I can't get you out of my mind, even though I only met you for like a few seconds. Wonder if you're as kind..." You lifted your eyes to look through the window. The winter sky was unusually clear, with stars blinking over the line of trees behind the playground. 

You sighed, wishing you had someone to talk to, but making friends had never been your forte, and the relationship with your mother did not include phone calls concerning mysterious men who took your breath away.

Returning to the portrait, you squinted and blew air through your nose. "What's your name? You looked kinda familiar." You thought for a bit, sinking deeper down in your sofa. "It's got to be an epic name, hasn't it, with a face like that? If only you could come and sweep me off my feet." 

With a short laugh, you shook your head. "Come on, Y/N. Don't be daft. You can't go ahead and get obsessed just because he's pretty. And because he smiled at you." 

A week later you were late for work, half running while trying to eat breakfast and fill your body with caffeine at the same time. You didn't pay attention to your surroundings at all; focusing on unscrewing the bottle cap with only one hand without spilling, so naturally you crashed into a black wall of a man, only just managing to keep the cola from soaking his no doubt expensive coat. 

Instead it hit your trainers. The instant wet socks made your toes curl. "I'm so sorry," you began, only then looking at his face.

"Oh, it is I who should apologise. I stopped without warning. Here. Let me help you with that," the man said with a smile, and your heart almost stopped. It was the man from before, and you watched with large eyes as the cola bottle you had dropped filled back up.

He held it out for you to take, and looked at you with such a regal face that you had to fight the urge to curtsey. 

"Thank... thank you," you stuttered. "You didn't - I could've..." This was odd. You never fumbled for words, but his benevolent smile threw you off balance.

"It was my pleasure," he said, calm as if nothing had just happened. "I could not just leave you be when I saw you were in distress, but we really should stop bumping into each other like this. There's better ways to meet."

You blinked. His voice was precisely how you had remembered it, and boy, you had thought about it a lot. "W-well, thank yo again, Mr -"

"Call me Loki," he interrupted, and held out his hand. 

You took it gingerly while your head swam. "Y/N."

"Enchanté." Instead of shaking your hand, he brought it to his lips, not touching it, but you felt his breath ghost over your skin. A wave of goosebumps rose and fell over your body.

After looking at each other for a few, awkward seconds, Loki cleared his throat and sidestepped. "I must go, but I hope to see you again. Farewell, fair lady."

You nodded, managing a small smile. "Uh, yeah. Bye."

He left and was quickly swallowed by the crowd, but you stayed, looking after him still, until another colourful lightning flashed and icy rain started pouring down.

That's... that's Loki! Your brain fizzed with the new information registered. But it couldn't be true. He simply didn't walk amongst normal people like that.

Spotting Nadia a bit further down the road, you hobbled after her and tapped her arm. "Did you see that man? He was... That was Loki."

Nadia bare looked at you, she just kept walking until the two of you were all caught up with the rest of the office. "You're joking."

"No, I'm not. He - Look, there he is!" He was standing by a kiosk, looking at a newspaper. You tried to show her without being obvious, but apparently she needed new glasses or something.

"Where? I don't see anybody."

"Shh... not so loud. The kiosk, over by the fountain."

Nadia rolled her eyes. "I only see that fat dude with the ridiculous beard."

You gaped at her. She couldn't be that blind. But when you looked back, he was gone. "You missed him" you muttered, slightly concerned that you had imagined it all. "He said his name was Loki."

Nadia snorted. "Loki - Loki? Like... Avengers - Loki?"

"Yes," you replied hesitantly, picking up on the ridicule in her voice.

"Are you drunk? He's not here, and if he was, do you really think he would smile to an ordinary woman? Like you? That was not Loki." She shook her head, making her blonde curls dance around her face. The rest of the group laughed too, and your stomach sank.

Of course she was right. Why would he even be in your dreary part of town? And if he happened to have an errand there, he wouldn't even look twice at a mortal woman. Least of all you. You'd caught a glimpse of the mighty warrior Sif once, and the Valkyrie had been on TV after the battle of Thanos. That was proof enough. 

Muttering into the collar of your coat, you fought to keep your voice neutral: "Well, he said it."

"Come on! You can be so naïve! The man lied to you. Obviously," Charles replied, rolling his eyes. You felt your stomach sink even lower. Of course they wouldn't believe you. Hell, you barely believed yourself. 

Jeanette threw herself into the discussion. "Yeah, Y/N, how come none of us saw him, huh? And why haven't the media picked up on it? I mean, if he's here.. Ugh, you can be such a moron sometimes."

Well fuck you, Jeanette. You didn't grace them with an answer, just turned and left to hang up your coat. As the door to the break room closed, you heard her giggle in the hallway.

"That wasn't nice," Charles told Jeanette, and you smiled. "Even if it is true." Your smile fell.

Fortunately that was the worst of it, even though you could feel them laughing at your back for the rest of the day. But soon you were too busy to pay attention to them. The eight hours flew by, and you wasted no time getting home so you didn't have to spend more time with your colleagues.

You brought your tea into the living room, intending to watch TV and just let your mind fly, but whenever you stopped focusing on the programme, the same face kept appearing in your thoughts. That kind smile, those warm eyes... it felt silly now, and you almost felt embarrassed how much that small gesture meant to you.

"Thank you," you muttered out loud, trying to sort your thoughts and emotions. "If it was you, Loki, know that I am grateful."

You looked out of the window. The sky was almost clear, and you wondered if you could actually make out the few stars or if it was just your eyes playing a trick on you. It wouldn't be the first time. You sighed and rested your chin in your hands, wedging your elbows in the corners of the windowsill. Loki. Had it really been him? Or were your co-workers right? They probably were. You sighed again. What you wouldn't give for a friend outside of the work environment. But with your hours and all that extra work, you were simply too tired to go out and be social.

What if Loki was your friend, your brain suddenly fired, and you chuckled from the absurdity.

"Yeah," you said out loud, fogging the window with your breath. "Wouldn't that be something? Hey, Loki, how was your day? You know what Jeanette did today? Yeah, I know, right? She's crazy!" Your stomach growled in response.

The imaginary conversation made you laugh, and the dread that had lodged itself in your chest lessened a bit. Picturing Loki's bitch face, or his dramatic response did wonders for your mood, and you continued the conversation as you prepared supper.

"I know, I know," you said into the air. "I need to say no. But if I don't do it, no one else will, and then I have to fix it anyway, and with much shorter deadline."

Loki's imagined answer came as a click of the tongue, and you looked shamefully into the boiling water. "Excuses. Yeah yeah. But it's not easy," you exclaimed, spinning around and waving the wooden spoon like a magic wand.

"Oh, don't give me that look. It's not. Expectations, routine - hell, I just wanna be liked. And I don't want to come across as difficult, but..." You trailed off and continued your cooking in silence. Saying all that out loud had lifted at least ten pounds off your shoulders. The next time you saw Loki, you decided to thank him for listening, even though he didn't know about it.

Ladling spaghetti onto your plate, you nodded to yourself. "Still," you muttered as you grabbed a spoon and a fork and put them in your pocket while balancing the plate and a glass and a bottle of cola in your hand and walked carefully to the table. "Still. It would be nice to have someone to eat with once in a while." Snorting into the food, you stuffed your mouth and scoffed. "God, you're pathetic, Y/N."

Another forkful of spaghetti. "Having imaginary conversations like that." But you couldn't deny that it helped. "What would Loki think if he knew, huh, Y/N? He'd laugh and roll his eyes, that's what."

But Loki did neither. He was standing fixed in the chamber of the Bifrost, listening to you ramble through the mind of Heimdall, who had summoned Loki when you had started to talk, uncertain if you were the result of Loki's more recent mischief.

It soon became clear, however, that that was not the case, as Loki's eyes gained a softness Heimdall hadn't seen in him in eons. 

Careful to keep his senses focused on the rest of the nine realms, he tried to give Loki some sort of privacy, but when you eventually fell asleep to a mindless baking programme on Netflix, he looked at Loki with curiosity and concern.

"Not at word to anyone about this," Loki snapped.

Heimdall nodded. He wouldn't want to risk Loki's wrath, and he was never one for gossip anyway. "Of course. May I ask what you will do?" The question lying underneath was "Will you hurt the mortal?" but he knew better than to ask that.

For a moment Loki looked conflicted, then his face settled with a decision. "She is safe," he replied to the silent question. "Let me know if she... prays again."

A couple of days later, after an especially frustrating day, you sat at the dinner table with tears in your eyes. You mentally looked around to make sure you were alone, cringing from the stupidity, because you were always alone. It felt so daft, but you craved an outlet. "Hey, Loki, it's me again," you said, pretending the two of you were on the phone.

His imaginary answer was silent, but you knew he was ready to listen, so you began to pour everything from your mind into his care. 

In Valhalla, Loki stood by the gate to the Bifrost, listening through Heimdall once again.

"Just don't wanna be alone right now." You sank deeper into the sofa and pulled a cushion close to your chest. It was the closest you had come to a hug in a while. Picturing him in the chair on the other side of the table, you smiled, both from embarrassment and from pretend happiness.

"I'm just so tired," you continued, answering his imaginary question. "If only I didn't need the money. I'd quit in a heartbeat." 

The flashing blue light from an ambulance danced over the wallpaper, creating a pretty pattern that you followed with your eyes. When it disappeared, you sniffed and closed your eyes in an attempt at muting the prickly burn that lurked under your eyelids.  It was of no use. When you opened them again a tiny tear dripped from your lashes, and then another one. "It's too... too much." 

Clearing your throat, you willed your voice back to normal. It almost worked, and when you continued, it only cracked a couple of times.

You told him everything that had happened that week; how your boss insisted you carry more than your share, how people refused to learn new stuff because you could already do it, so what was the point; how you felt left out of the gang, how they never included you when something social was happening, and lastly - and that was when your voice broke for real - those comments from Tim.

"I know I'm not thin, but why shouldn't I get to eat like normal people?"

You imagined him watching you with kind eyes. "Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not even half-pretty. And you know what? That's okay. Because I'm so much more," you muttered proudly before sinking back down again. Burying your face in the cushion, you thought what you refused to say out loud: but I desperately want to be.

The conversations became a nightly habit, a way to unload and keep your sanity, and you always turned to Loki to vent. In your imagination, he didn't mind at all. In reality, he did mind. Not your conversation as such, but he grew more and more appalled by your stories, and slowly he formed a plan in his mind. As the weeks passed, he realised he liked you. A lot. You were the only mortal who talked to him as an equal and without suspicion, so he did his best to watch your back. Always from afar, though he had a hunch that you probably spotted him a few times.

More than once he overheard your colleagues talk about you and to you, and it made him fume, but he held back. He was afraid he would drive you away, and besides, his plan wasn't ready to unfold just yet. He still had to get you onboard.

The temperatures dropped. Work loads increased. Everyone fought to meet their winter goals. You were working harder than ever, hardly making a dent in the piles of paper and e-mails. But you soldiered on, mostly because you didn't know how not to. Not until you looked up and saw a moose standing in the middle of the office. Two seconds away from screaming, you blinked and looked again. There was no moose. However, there was Lynn, showing off her new, brown coat and poofy hat. 

"Jesus, Y/N. You need a break. If you continue like this, you'll work yourself to death." In frustration both that your boss took advantage of you like that, and that you allowed it, you felt your chest implode. It was hard to breathe. Closing your eyes, you looked inwards, searching for the hatch to close off the tears, or worse: hysterical laughter. 

For a few minutes you just sat, breathing, submerging yourself into the fragile serenity spun inside your chaotic mind. When you opened your eyes again, you found yourself able to work again, if only at half pace, but it was better than to collapse from exhaustion. 

It was dark when your day finally ended, but instead of going home, you decided to treat yourself. You weren't ready to wallow in your own self-pity and weakness just yet.

The wind blew fallen leaves everywhere, it felt like being inside an autumn advert. Except that this advert sent icy gusts through you that settled in your spine. 

There was only one thing you wanted now, and you would be damned if anything was going to stop you on your quest.

Inside, it was warm and toasty. The fresh cakes on the counter spread their sweet and spicy scents through the room, making your mouth water. It almost smelled like Christmas, you thought with a satisfied smile, all worries dissipating in a puff of cinnamon and cardamom. This really was your favourite time of the year.

Pulling your beanie off, you ruffled your hair slightly. It was of no use: once the beanie hair had taken hold, no amount of ruffling would bring the volume back. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror menu and blew a wisp of hair from your face. It lifted slightly and promptly settled back on your cheek. At least here you would be alone. No-one at work would ever even think about this place.

"What can I get you?" the old lady behind the counter asked, drawing you from your thoughts.

"Oh, hey. Yeah..." The menu held several temptations, but after a moment's deliberation you made your decision. "Can I have a... uh, spicy breadcake and, um... one caramel cocoa, please?"

The lady nodded as she punched your order. "Would you like whipped cream on that?"

"Oh, yes, please!"

"Right. That will be $ 8.25. Thank you. Go grab a seat. I'll be right over when your chocolate is done."

You chose a seat in the back of the bakery, partially hidden behind a tall yucca covered in tinsel. It was bliss. Sure, the bakery was busy enough, but the quiet buzz of voices mixed with the soft rendition of The Christmas Song lulled you into a thoughtless trance. For the first time in weeks, you could breathe.

"One peppermint cocoa, please." The voice floated through the protective walls of your bubble and snaked its way into your brain, almost making you spill your hot chocolate. You would recognise that voice anywhere.

Trying to turn in your chair without being conspicuous, you cast a quick glance over your shoulder. There were no-one there.

"Great," you muttered. "Now I've starting to hallucinate voices too." The calm you had felt just seconds ago vanished. What was left was a sudden unease and a brain spinning out of orbit. You closed your eyes, trying to catch the tail of the calmness disappearing over the horizon.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your eyes snapped open. In front of you stood Loki, holding a large, steaming mug and a plate filled with cookies.

"Loki." Your voice was nothing more than a breath. 

He was standing there, looking immaculate and smiling kindly at you, and suddenly you were acutely aware of what you hadn't managed to capture in your drawing. Behind those gentle eyes lay a power you were unable to grasp, and it frightened you. 

Loki gestured to the empty chair across from you. "May I?"

"Y-yeah. Please. I-I mean, if you want to."

"Thank you," he replied softly and sat down.

"What brings you here?" you asked in a sudden outburst of courage. To be honest you had already written off the encounter as another hallucination, but figured you could play along. The worst that could happen was that the other customers noticed you talking to yourself. 

Loki leaned conspiratorially over the table. "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Mhm." You nodded for emphasis. 

"They have the best cocoa in all of the nine realms."

You blinked, somewhat taken aback by that answer. "Ah."

"And also," he continued, "I hoped to run into you again."

There it was. If there was a speck of doubt that this whole encounter was a hallucination before, it was gone now. Loki, the real Loki, would never think twice about you. "That's nice," you replied, somewhat deflated. 

He frowned. "Is something wrong?"

You let out a small laugh. "Oh no. Nothing at all. I'm just a little bit tired of my brain playing tricks on me."

Tilting his head, he watched you with what you could almost describe as professional curiosity. He was the Trickster after all. "What do you mean?"

Running a hand over your eyes, you shook your head slightly. "I can't believe I have to explain this to myself. You're only in my head, Loki. I've spent so much time pretending we were friends lately that... It wouldn't be the first time I saw something that wasn't there," you muttered, remembering the moose in the office with a shudder. "Still," you said out loud, giving Loki a tired smile, "if I'm to see ghosts, it's nice that it's you."

"Y/N..." He rolled his eyes and smiled crookedly. "If I was a ghost, I wouldn't be able to do this, wold I?" Gently, so very gently, he took your hand and held it in his.

His hand was soft, and at first his touch sent a flash through your arm, but you didn't react with more than a sad smile. It soon became clear to Loki that your mind was set, and you weren't going to change it today, so he decided to play along for now. 

Although the beginning was kinda awkward, the rest of the meal became a relief for you. You found you could talk to Loki, really talk, and since he was just in your head, you did not guard your words as you usually did. And Loki listened. With every word you uttered, you felt a little bit more weight leave your shoulders.

When you had nothing more to say, you exhaled and rested your head in your hand. Loki sat straight as a pole on his chair, his knuckles white. His obvious resentment on your behalf made you warm inside.

"Thank you for listening, Loki."

"Anything for you, Y/N."

You raised an eyebrow, amused by your own pretentious imagination. "Right. Well, I better get home. I'm getting hungry, and cake isn't enough." You chuckled from his expression. "You wouldn't like me much when I'm hangry," you added for his benefit.

"Well then: we'd better get you home. Can't have you demolish the city in your hunger. My apologies. That was inappropriate of me."

Shaking your head, you blew a laugh through your nose. "Don't worry about it. The joke came from my head after all."

"That, that's not... Hm. May I escort you home, Y/N? It's dark outside, and I dread to see you hurt."

"Huh? Yeah, sure. Why not."

The trip back to your apartment was uneventful, but serene. The usually busy streets seemed calmer than normal, and walking with Loki, even though he wasn't really there made you feel less lonely. Even safe.

"This is me," you said, gesturing vaguely to your front door.

"Good. I'll leave you to your cooking." Loki bowed his neck slightly.

You felt a pinprick of panic as you inserted the key into the lock. "Will I see you again?"

"Of course, if you want to. Just... call my name. I will be listening." With that, he turned and strode down the street.

Stuffing the key back into your pocket, you went in and closed the door behind you. Your heart was beating like a teenager in love, and butterflies wrought havoc in your stomach. "See you around, ghost," you whispered, feeling happier than you had in a long time.

The next afternoon, you thought you saw him behind the truck on the other side of the street, but still feeling the aftereffect of the day before, you continued on your way home with only a small hitch in the back of your throat. Even Loki wouldn't be able to extinguish the fire in your head today. It was a pounding headache that almost had you in tears.

He was waiting for you outside your flat, but your were so focused on your headache, you almost didn't see him.

"Hello," he said when you passed.

You stopped in your tracks, looking up from the tips of your boots. "Loki. Hey. How are you?"

Loki paused. He had never been asked that before. "Surprisingly well," he replied. "How are you?"

"Meh." 

"You need something to eat."

"How did you know?" you asked flatly.

He snorted. "Just a guess. May I... join you?"

"Come on in." You waved him through the door. "I was planning on making pizza for dinner, we can share it if you like." You laughed to yourself as you stomped into the kitchen, discarding coat and mittens along the way.

The medicine cabinet was painfully empty, and so was the freezer, warranting a loud groan.

Loki appeared around the corner with a concerned look in his face. "Is something wrong?"

You shook your head, but that made you dizzy, so you stopped. Instead you gestured to the open freezer door, demonstrating how empty it was, like a magician's assistant. "I just wanted an ice pack for my head. I don't know, a bag of peas would've worked." Dumping down on a kitchen chair, you rested your face in your hands.

Loki smiled. "Oh, nothing worse? I can fix that," he added, bumping the door shut with his shoulder. "May I?"

You looked up. He was standing so close to you, and with his hand stretched half-way out. He was very vivid for a hallucination. "Sure. You're all in my head. Can't hurt me. Not really."

Rolling his eyes, he put one hand on your forehead.

Within seconds, a wave of cold enveloped you, and you shivered. But the headache subsided. You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat.

Loki's face softened. "Hey, what's wrong?" His hand was soft on your shoulder.

"It's stupid," you replied, feeling the exhaustion creeping up your back. Loki raised one eyebrow. His gaze pierced you like an arrow. Somehow you knew he wouldn't think you stupid. "I'm just so goddamn tired. We're ridiculously understaffed at work, and for some reason I always end up with the extra work, but no extra time to do it." You knew very well why; you just couldn't say no, and your co-workers knew how to exploit that weakness like it was no tomorrow. 

"I could, you know, if you wanted to."

"Huh?" You were too mesmerised by him standing so close to follow what he was saying.

"Take you with me, like you asked the other day."

"Thank you, but I don't think the ghost in my mind can do anything other than give me a little bit of relief from work." 

"I am not a ghost," he said with a final caress of your cheek. "And I think you know that now."

The butterflies woke to life again. Your head swam, and if Loki hadn't found a chair, you would have fallen on your ass. He guided you down, and you tried your best to focus on your breathing. 

Once you got your sight back, you looked up and exhaled. "I do. Or... I hoped, but at the same time I didn't, you know what I mean? Why would you even talk to me? Right? It doesn't make sense."

"But it does. I've been listening to your prayers every evening, and I wanted to get to know you better."

"WHAT?"

He froze, then burst out laughing. "Hate to break it to you, but when you spoke my name, that prayer went straight to Heimdall, and he alerted me."

"Oh, gods, I'm so sorry!" He had heard everything. Had he heard everything? Your cheeks burned with the memory of a couple of especially private thoughts you hoped you hadn't spoken out loud. Wrapping your arms around your head, you tried to hide from Loki. Maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough, he would disappear.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he whispered, kneeling next to you. "It made me feel important. Wanted. So I should thank you, really."

Peeking through your fingers, you saw he was smiling. "But all I did was complain -"

"And rightly so. Those people don't treat you like you deserves."

"Yeah, well, that's partly my fault -"

"No it's not. They take advantage of you. If I didn't think it would bother you, I'd blow them to smithereens!"

"Thank you for the concern," you interrupted with a flustered grimace, "but that won't be necessary. Some of them aren't as horrible as I made them sound, and... they don't deserve to die just yet. Maybe a stern talking to or a lesson, but..." Wiping under your eyes, you sniffed, hoping it would be inaudible. The angry grunt from Loki told you it wasn't.

"Would you believe me if I said that I told my boss 'You have no idea how many calories I burn by putting up with your shit.'?" you asked to lighten the mood.

Loki smiled, but he shook his head. "You're too nice to say something like that."

"Yeah, you're right. I'm not a confrontational person."

"Listen, why don't we make something to eat, huh? Everything feels easier on a full stomach."

Loki appeared at your door almost every evening after that. You made dinner, talked about everything and anything while you ate, and for the first time in years you felt seen.

It was the middle of December. Outside it was snowing heavily, but inside you managed to keep it warm and cosy despite the drafty window. 

"It's beautiful out when it's quiet like that," you muttered. "If only it could be like this every day."

Loki smiled and pulled your head onto his shoulder. You felt utterly safe, wishing it would never end. "It sounds like you need a vacation."

Swallowing hard to get rid of the hard lump in your throat, you let out a harsh laugh. "Yeah, or a new job." Just the idea alone made your shoulders feel several pounds lighter, but you soon plummeted back to reality. Jobs were scarce, especially since you needed more than a part-time position.

"They won't believe me, you know." You stared out the window at the falling snow.

Loki pulled you closer and rested his head on top of yours. "Who?"

"At... at work. They've been making fun of me constantly since... Gah! I wish I could just quit," you lamented, feeling you had had this conversation before.

"They have, have they?" He fell silent for a bit. "Why don't you?"

"What, quit?" Yeah, you had definitely had this conversation before.

"Mhm. It doesn't exactly make you happy."

"I need the job. I have to eat. And the flat isn't cheap to maintain. There's a lot I have to fix. And I have the mortgage to pay. I don't have enough savings to just walk away. Though," you added and sat up to look into his eyes, "I would if I could."

His face went blank and he was silent for a few minutes. Then he looked down and grinned. "What if I told you that I could help you?"

"What? How?"

His face lit up, sending fireworks through your brain. "Well. There's this little man who owes me a favour or two. He will give you a position in his company if you're willing to try it."

"Really? Who? Where?"

"Hm, Tony didn't say where, but -"

Your eyes narrowed. "Wait, Tony as in Tony Stark?"

Loki smirked. "Yes, is that a problem? I know he's got a reputation -"

It felt like you were floating. "Oh, not at all. It just didn't cross my mind. Are you sure he would let me work for him?"

He nodded. "Of course. I wouldn't propose something like this without discussing it with him first. When I showed your resumé he all but jumped out of his chair to come get you."

Punching Loki weakly in the arm, you stuck out your tongue. "Don't exaggerate."

"No, really. He'll be happy to have you on board. Just tell me when, and I'll set the machine in motion." 

"But..."

A wide grin spread over his face. "Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but -"

"Then write your resignation. Unless you'd rather stay, of course."

You shook your head vehemently. "Not if I can help it."

"Good. It's settled, then. Tomorrow will be your last day at that wretched place."

When you walked in through the glass doors the next morning, your heart was in your throat. The resignation letter burned in your purse, you felt its weight at your side. But you pretended like everything was normal, and that nothing happened to prevent Loki from coming. Or, your brain sneered, that it was some sort of elaborate prank. Loki was the god of mischief after all.

No! You are not allowed to think like that, you sternly told yourself. Loki had been nothing but kind to you. ...But still... that tiny voice in your brain countered.

The morning crawled by. It felt like you'd entered the timeframe of a snail, but you did your best to finish the projects you were already working on, while carefully making sure you didn't start anything new. That way, if Loki didn't show, and the plan failed, you'd only be a little bit behind - nothing you couldn't fix with a few hours overtime.

The clock struck one, and most of the office got up to head to lunch. You joined them with excitement and anxiety warring in your chest. Clutching your purse tight, you followed the crowd to the break room, past the reception.

"Excuse me, Miss Y/N? There's a gentleman here to see you." Cathy the receptionist waved to you, stopping half the office as well. Your heart soared, and you felt the rush of air in your ears.

Loki greeted you with wiggly fingers, making you giggle. "Yes, I was sent by Stark Industries to pick you up. Tony was quite adamant that you should work for him. I do believe he has already paid you off your contract." He winked at you. "Y/N, my love, are you ready?" He smiled, holding out his hand for you.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn't have kept the grin from your face even if you had fought it. "Yes," you replied, somewhat surprised at how breathy and foreign your voice sounded. "Just a moment. I just have to let my boss know." You fished the sealed envelope from your purse and found your boss in the crowd of onlookers that had gathered outside the break room.

"Christine, I quit!" You said it proudly, feeling weight lift off your shoulders with every syllable. "I won't be coming in tomorrow." Pressing the letter into her hand, you turned and all but skipped down the hall, acutely aware of every eye on your back.

"But... who will fix the transaction interface now?"

Waving over your shoulder, you didn't even bother to look back. "Not my problem anymore."

When you reached Loki, he put his arm around you, and you could have sworn you grew at least four inches.

The sun had chased the grey clouds away, and what had been a bleak city when you walked into work earlier now looked cheerful and vibrant.

With ten times lighter steps, you looked at Loki. "Thank you. Really, from the bottom of my heart. For letting me show everybody how easily I could just walk away from them. And for the job at Stark Industries... Wow. That's just... wow!" You grinned. "And 'my love'. That was a nice touch. Certainly left all my coworkers, oh, ex- coworkers, I should say, staring." Trying your best to ignore the ache that lurked in your chest, you still had to address it.

Loki stopped. He spun you around so the two of you stood face to face. "I said nothing but the truth."

Your jaw dropped. "Uh..."

"Did I misunderstand your feelings? The love and care from our evenings together?" A trace of hurt flitted over his face.

"Wh... what? No! I, I just... never knew you might feel -"

"Y/N! We've been dating, as I believe you mortals call it, for months. How could you not know my intentions?"

It took a few seconds to find your voice. "You've never... We haven't... And we haven't talked about it, I assumed you were just being friendly."

Loki barked out a laugh. "Friendly! Y/N, I am never just friendly. And I know we've never spoken about it, but taking your prayers into account, I would think it was obvious -"

What he was saying finally sunk in, and now it was your turn to laugh. You felt like you were floating. "It wasn't," you replied with a mischievous smile. "Out of the two of us, only one has telepathic abilities, and I know for a fact that it isn't me."

Realisation spread across Loki's face. "Oh. Right. Well then, I would like to make it clear that you, my love, are the one I've been searching for, and that I have every intention of making you mine. Do I have your permission?"

"Cheesy, much?" you muttered under your breath, but out loud you answered: "I'm already yours."

_______________________________________________________________________

Tagging some people who might want to read this:

@80percentmarvel @tardis-is-mine @schwarzwaelder-kirschtorte @jessiejunebug @thefuriousquake @wolfgar15 @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki

[bensakindofmagic]

Dad and His Son

so i wrote an au based on this post, because apparently i like to hurt myself. you can read it if you like to hurt yourself too. 

w/c: 1.8k

no warnings, just fluff 

A/N: this is an au in which roger is ben’s dad, and for the sake of ease/clarity/my laziness, his mum is a fictional woman. i didn’t want to get bogged down in research and step-parents and exploring those relationship cause this is just a light-hearted wee blurb. don’t get mad about it. right. that’s the admin done with. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be fine,” Ben said calmly, coming round to your side of the car as you got out and taking your hand in his considerably larger one. You took a deep breath, exhaling hard, as you took in the house before you. It had been intimidating from the end of the drive as it was slowly revealed behind the automatic gates, and as it grew before your eyes your pulse had started to quicken. It was beautiful, and enormous, and surrounded by fields and forests. You would have marvelled at its magnificence had you not been so nervous of what lay inside.

“Easy for you to say,” you muttered, disgruntled.

“It’s just my parents, and they’re going to love you, Y/N/N.”

Just his parents. Meeting the parents for the first time is hard enough, but when your boyfriend’s dad is Roger Fucking Taylor, that makes everything a little more tricky. Needless to say you were shitting a brick. 

He rang the doorbell, even though they had already buzzed you in through the gate, and what was supposed to be a steadying breath rattled in your chest. Ben squeezed your fingers. 

“Ben, darling!” his mum gushed, engulfing him in a hug. She managed to wrap him up entirely despite being significantly shorter than him.

“Mum,” he said, detaching himself from her after kissing her cheek, “This is my girlfriend, Y/N."

You smiled in your best impression of someone who’s not feeling horrifically awkward and contemplating a runner, “Hello Mrs Taylor.”

“Oh love, call me Jodie.” She smiled warmly and immediately pulled you into a hug. Ben grinned at you over her shoulder. “Come on in, lunch is nearly ready. Roger! They’re here!” she called into the house, bustling into the kitchen.

“After you,” Ben gestured, raising his eyebrows.

The house was massive, but beautifully light and spacious. A large staircase stood proudly in the middle of the hall, splitting the room and leading to the upstairs realm. Evidence of Queen’s rock-god days lay casually scattered everywhere, hiding in plain sight — framed gold discs were hung on the walls beside artworks, photos of the band were camouflaged between groups of children smiling giddily up from their frames. Conscious of not appearing nosy but wanting to see everything, you peered furtively through a half open door to see piles of old records surrounding an enormous speaker. 

“Come on,” Ben gestured with a nod of his head, “I’ll give you the tour later.”

You allowed him to rest his hand lightly on your lower back, anchoring you to him as you ventured into the kitchen/living room. 

Roger — that being Roger Taylor. Actual Roger Taylor — was sat in an armchair, idly flicking through the channels on the TV. He glanced at you over his shoulder, piercing blue eyes like ice as they caught you in their hooded stare. Ben may have got the green from his mother but the intensity of colour, the gaze that turns you into a puddle on the floor, that was all from his dad’s side. 

“Rog,” Ben’s mum admonished, “come and say hello.”

He stood slowly, and crossed the space between you: it seemed to take a lifetime. Your heart thumped loudly around your head, the sound bouncing between your ears with each step. 

“Dad, this is Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he said, testing the word on his tongue, and held out a hand to you. His skin was soft with age but still calloused in the places where his drumstick fit between his fingers. A smile hid beneath his moustache. “Ben’s told us a lot about you, but I see he didn’t mention how beautiful you are.” 

Your blush was ferocious. 

Ben scoffed, “Yeah, alright Dad. I know you still fancy yourself as a ladies’ man, but can you not flirt with my girlfriend please?”

“Well someone’s got to do it,” he mumbled, turning his attention over to his extensive wine rack. You laughed, incredulous, and Ben just rolled his eyes. 

You sat down for lunch and gratefully tucked into the beautiful food Ben’s mum had made, making sure to to compliment her and thank her for her hospitality. You were desperately careful, as images of knocking over wine glasses or sending plates crashing to the floor with your elbow flooded through you mind’s eye. Ben felt your tension and laid a palm on your knee under the table. 

He gave it a gentle squeeze and shot you a slight smile. 

“Are you keeping up your drumming, Ben?” Roger asked. 

His hummed his assent while he swallowed a mouthful, “Yeah, not as much as I’d like, what with work being so busy, but it’s a good stress reliever.” 

“Are you a musician, Y/N?” Jodie inquired.

“No, no I’m not. I’m a music lover, for sure, but I never learnt an instrument.”

“But she has an incredible voice,” Ben interjected. 

You fought a blush and admonished, “Given present company I think that’s something of an overstatement.” Roger chuckled; you felt a small glow of pride in your stomach. 

“Y/N, sweetheart, tell us about yourself. What do you do?” 

“Uh, I’m a film journalist. I actually met Ben to interview him for a piece.”

“So your thing is movies? Which is your favourite?” Roger asked.

You shook your head, “I can’t answer that, it’s like picking between your children.”

“That’s easy, Ben’s sister Rory, she’s the smart one.” His face was stoic but his glinting eyes betrayed him.

Ben grunted sarcastically, “Cheers Dad.”

Ben held conversation a lot of the time, knowing how nervous you were and how you struggled to make conversation with new people as it was. He talked you up wherever he found an opportunity and made it easy for you to engage. By the end of the meal some of your nerves had worn away and the gnawing in your belly was replaced with a satisfied fullness. Roger sat back, sated, and announced, “Alright Y/N, you get one question.”

You looked to Ben in confusion, “I’m sorry?”

“People are always dying to ask about Queen, and I like so you I’m going to give you one question. Make it a good one, mind, not just ‘what was Freddie like?’ Or ‘which is your favourite song?’”

“No pressure then,” you sighed. “Okay, who was best at scrabble?”

Roger laughed heartily. “Oh Brian, obviously. He got the highest score I’ve ever seen — it was ‘lacquers’ and he scored 168, the bastard. But Fred was a bit of a dark horse too. He used to just put one tile down and connect this here and that there and tot up all these points.” 

His eyes glazed as the memory played out in them. He gave a sad smile, cheeks dimpling with the weight of it. “Oh the adventures of life on the road.”

You got the tour of the house after lunch; Ben showed the studio and his old bedroom and you delighted in seeing his old photos in his room. You gasped, picking one up, “Oh my gosh, Ben, is this you?”

 A smiling Freddie Mercury was holding a blonde, rather pouty-looking baby.

“Yeah,” Ben smiled softly, “I never knew him properly, he died when I was still really young. But it’s pretty special to think that he knew me.”

There were more traces of Queen, and other rock ’n’ roll bands, around the room, posters and albums, and the drum kit in the corner bore the band’s logo. Photos chronicled his childhood, frequently featuring a much younger Roger. It was bizarre to you, to see that version of the man you recognised from your favourite band, holding a young boy who would grow up to become the love of your life. How strange, that those two strands of your life converged in the preserved bedroom of a teenage boy. 

“I didn’t know you were such a Queen fan, Ben. You don’t talk about it much.”

Ben shrugged, “I was a bit obsessed when I was a kid. Obviously I’m still so proud of Dad, and I love the music, but I guess I’ve toned it down a bit. I’m following my own path now, but back then I wanted to be just like him.”

His hand was sat limply in his pocket, so you threaded your arm through his and kissed his cheek. “I think it’s sweet.” 

“What do you think of them?”

“Your mum and dad? They’re lovely.”

“Not going to scare you off then?”

“Never,” you smiled. 

Back downstairs you offered to help Jodie with the washing up while Ben and Roger talked shop in the studio about some new drum kit or other. 

“You’re too good to them, letting them skip out on helping clear away,” you joked as you dried up. 

“Oh I wouldn’t usually,” Jodie mused, “but Rog likes it when Ben’s home. I think he misses the kids more than he cares to admit. But I hope that means you don’t let Ben get away with not doing his fair share!”

“Absolutely it does. He’s good about it though, you taught him well.” 

“I’m glad to hear it… You know, you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home to meet us,” she said, glancing at you. Your movements stilled. “I think he’s always been nervous about it. I suspect he was worried that they’d be intimidated by the whole thing, that his dad would scare them off. But he was very keen for us to meet you. He was most anxious that we make a good impression.”

Her words took you aback; you had been so worried about your own nerves that you’d barely stopped to consider his. When you came to think of it, there had been a slight tension in his shoulders, a hint of rambliness about the way he had spoken, as if he felt he had to fill the silences before they materialised.

Jodie continued, “You know, I thought you must be someone pretty special if he wanted us to meet you so badly. I’ve been very excited about it.” 

You smiled meekly, pressing your lips together, “I hope I didn’t let you down.”

“Oh of course not darling, it’s been a pleasure. And it’s very sweet to see you with Ben, he looks so happy with you. I think he’s quite smitten.”

You were spared your blushes by footsteps in the doorway and Ben came in, followed by Roger,  asking, “What are you two gossiping about? Already ganging up on me?” 

He slipped his arm around your waist and looked down fondly at you. 

“Hm, something like that,” you hummed, and returned Jodie’s knowing smile. 

He leant down to whisper in your ear, “I think they like you,” and nudged your cheek with his nose. 

Roger smiled, eyes sparkling, “Son, I’d say this one’s a keeper.”

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 025 [Top Two]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,581

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〈“You should see me in a crown. Your silence is my favorite sound. Watch me make ’em bow, one by one.” Billie Eilish, “You Should See Me In A Crown”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Umm… why the heck are you all here?” Ochaco cried out, distress clear in her voice. Dozens of students were crowding around the outside of our classroom, whispering and taking pictures of us. What, are we a fucking exhibit at the zoo now?

“Do you students have some sort of business with our class?” Iida questioned.

“Why are you blocking our doorway? I won’t let you take us hostage!” Mineta cried out. As if that short idiot could do anything.

“They’re scouting out the competition, idiots.” Bakugo headed for the door and I followed, slinging the strap of my bag over my shoulder. “We’re the class that survived a real villain attack. They wanna see us with their own eyes.” He stopped at the door, narrowed eyes scanning the students. “At least now you know what a future pro looks like. Now, move it extras!”

I chuckled. Typical Bakugo. To think that one word changed our relationship. I wonder, would we be friends if I hadn’t learned who he was?

“You can’t just walk around calling people extras just because you don’t know who they are!” Iida complained, waving his hand frantically.

I raised a brow at him. “The fuck you talking about, man? He calls everyone extras, even the fuckers he does know.”

“So this is class 1-A?” A boy with a mop of purple hair pushed his way to the front of the group, a black-haired boy close behind. This kid over here lookin’ like Doc Brown’s reject son. “I heard you guys were impressive, but you just sound like an ass. Is everyone in the hero course delusional or just you?”

“Sick burn, bro.” I snickered.

“Shut up, bitch!”

“How sad to come here to find a bunch of ego-maniacs.” The boy rubbed the back of his neck.

“It’s tragique.” The black-haired boy nodded.

“I wanted to be in the hero course, but like many others here, I was forced to choose a different track. Such is life. I didn’t cut it the first time around, but I have another chance. If any of us do well in the sports festival, the teachers can decide to transfer us to the hero course. And they’ll have to transfer people out to make room.”

Several people grew nervous behind us, Izuku included. While I don’t doubt the validity of his statement, I think the only people at real risk of being yanked from class 1-A is Invisigirl and the perverted Grape. I can’t speak for class 1-B, though, not that that has anything to do with us.

“‘Scouting the competition’?” Purple continued. “Maybe some of my peers are, but I’m here to let you know that if you don’t bring your very best, I’ll steal your spot right from under you. Consider this a declaration of war.”

“Heh~ but we‘re the egomaniacs, right?” I scoffed, meeting his dull purple eyes. “Ever heard of the expression, ‘The pot calling the kettle black’? Besides, if you weren’t good enough to make it the first time, what makes you think you can replace people that were good enough?”

His eyes narrowed.

The black-haired boy beside him scoffed. “You guys are whaq with a q.”

“‘Whack’ isn’t spelled with a fucking q, you twat.” I responded.

“It’s reserved for special cases like you!”

“Are you stupid?”

“I’m lucid sometimes.”

“Hey, you!!” A silver-haired boy joined the fray, pushing and shoving his way through the crowd as he screamed at the top of his lungs. “I’m from class 1-B next door to you! We heard you fought some villains and I came to see if that was true! You’re just a bunch of brats who think you’re better than us!!”

“Goddamn. And I thought you were loud, Bakuhoe.” I scowled, rubbing my temple. I could feel a headache starting to form from the sheer volume of his voice.

“Talk all you want, it’ll just be more embarrassing when you’re K.O’d!!”

Bakugo moved forward.

“Don’t you ignore me!!”

“Dude, where are you going?” Kirishima rushed forward. “You gotta say something! It’s your fault they’re all hating on us, Bakugo! You, too, Winchester!”

“The fuck’d I do?” I muttered.

“These people don’t matter,” Bakugo responded, simply.

“Huh?”

“The only thing that’s important is that I beat them. Let’s go, Tiger.”

Kirishima sent me a pleading look and I shrugged. “You got what you wanted, Kiri. He said somethin’.” I followed the blonde as he moved through the crowd, the students jumping away from his glaring red eyes.

“Hey!! I’m coming for you!!”

“Hopefully quieter next time,” I muttered, folding my hands behind my head. “I’m hungry, let’s go get tacos.”

“Fuck no. We’re getting ramen.” He glanced at me. “And then we’re going to train.”

I scowled. “You always go to that place that serves only spicy ramen. I hate it.”

“Your quirk is fire but you can’t even handle spicy food. Pathetic.”

“My quirk ain’t about sweatin’, fool. And I never agreed to train with you, either.”

“Too fuckin’ bad,” He suddenly stopped, shoving his finger in my face. “Me and you are gonna destroy all of those damn losers and then I’m gonna thoroughly beat your ass in the final, you got that?!”

I sweatdropped, looking away. “That sounds like a lot of work, man.”

“Suck it up, weakling!”

Geez, once this brat sets his mind on something, there’s no stopping him. This is gonna be a serious pain in my ass.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“I’m home,” I muttered, pushing the door open and kicking my sneakers off before heading to the kitchen. “What the fuck are you doin’, bro?”

Aizawa grunted in annoyance. Both of his thickly bandaged arms were out of their sling, a cup of instant noodles dangling precariously between them. “You’re late,”

I took the cup from his arms, holding up the plastic bag in my other hand. “Sorry. Bakugo’s a real bitch when it comes to training. And everything else in general.”

He fell into the chair at the kitchen table. “You’re training with him?”

I pulled two plates from the cabinet, dividing the box of chicken bites between them before adding a spoonful of mac-n-cheese, green beans, and mashed potatoes with gravy. I set both plates on the table before getting a Dr. Pepper for myself and some juice for him. “I didn’t want to, but he wouldn’t stop bitching about it and then he smacked me when I wasn’t looking, so I humored him. Then I actually got into it and lost track of time.” I plopped down beside him.

Due to his excessive injuries, Aizawa needed someone to help him out at home and since I wasn’t able to protect him from the bird brain fucker, I told Toshi that I’d be staying with Zawa ’til he recovers. The man in question certainly wasn’t happy about needing to be helped, especially not by me, but the alternative was the loud-mouth Present Mic, so he settled.

He was struggling to pick up the fork so I grabbed it for him, holding it up so his finger could wrap around the metal. “I’m surprised he’s gotten so close to you. I don’t know if that’s a good thing, though.”

“Probably not, but at least I’m finally starting to socialize, right?”

He stared at me blankly.

“Tough crowd,”

“What are your plans for the sports festival?”

“Care to be more specific?”

“Are you going to give it your all? You haven’t shown much interest in going pro.”

I leaned back in my chair, stirring my mashed potatoes with the fork. “Dunno. I’ve been thinking about it… everyone is so hyped for the sports festival, so I feel like I should match that by giving it my all, you know? At the same time… everyone else has a clear goal, a dream to become a pro and this is their big chance to get noticed. Well, one of ’em, anyway. Kinda feels like I shouldn’t take that away from them. Plus…”

“You’re scared,” he commented, dryly.

I scowled, propping my chin in my palm. “I ain’t scared, I’m worried, there’s a difference. I don’t wanna hurt anyone, especially if this is gonna be like a one-on-one battle royale or whatever. Bakugo has this shit idea in his head that the two of us are gonna be the top two – with him taking first, of course. I kinda wanna beat him just to spite him, but that’ll cause me a bigger headache in the future. He’s pretty damn strong, too.”

“You don’t think you can beat him?” He stabbed a piece of chicken, bringing it to his mouth.

I shrugged. “Won’t know that unless we fight. I feel like my raw power is better than his, but I rely on instinct alone, while he relies on instinct and intelligence. I’d rather not fight him if I can avoid it, it’ll be too much of a pain in the – Ow, that fucking hurt, you bitch!” I rubbed the back of my hand which he had just stabbed with his fork.

“Stop being lazy, Jen. Whether you plan to go pro or not, as a student of U.A. you represent the school through your actions.”

“Isn’t that even more reason to air on the side of caution?” I scowled. “Think about how shit it would be if I lost control during the sports fest. Talk about an image ruiner.”

“Are you planning on killing anyone?”

“The fuck kinda question is that? Of course not.” I paused. “Though, I wouldn’t be above killing Mineta, not even gonna lie. If I have to fight him, I’mma destroy him.”

He ignored my last comment. “Then you should be fine.” His eyes met mine and his gaze softened. “Just do your best and stop stressing so much.”

“Hey, Zawa?”

“Hmm?”

I chewed on my lip, thoughtfully. Should I tell him about that voice I heard back at the USJ? No matter what kinda world you live in, hearing voices ain’t a good thing, but… it was probably just a hallucination brought on from the extreme stress. I don’t wanna worry him or bug him, especially when he’s still healing. I smiled softly, “You always act tough but you’re just a big ole softy, ain’t ya – ow, fuck, Aizawa!”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

The day of the sports festival had finally arrived and the stadium was packed with people. Various food stalls had been set up outside, including a glorious taco stand. Me and the rest of class 1-A had been ordered to change into our gym uniforms and hang out in the waiting room until we were called out, but I had woken up late and missed breakfast. Plus, tacos.

While the others nervously and excitedly chatted with one another about the sports fest, I slipped out of the room and out to the front where the food stalls were located. My mouth started to water at all the glorious smells teasing my nose, my stomach growling and whining at me. I stopped behind a woman with a small child, trying not to tap my foot impatiently as she waited on her food. Finally, she stepped away and I moved forward.

The man at the stall was older, maybe late fifties or early sixties, with a mess of gray hair. A thin, white bandana had been wrapped around his forehead, the name ‘Shimatsu Tacos!’ written in bold red lettering with a taco between the two words.

He smiled kindly, wrinkles appearing around his mouth. “What can I get for you?”

“Five soft shell tacos, please.” I dug around in my pocket for the money I had shoved there after changing out of my uniform.

“Coming right up!” He hummed as he started to cook the beef and toast the shells.

“Hey, you!” An arm slung around my shoulder and I scowled at the contact, slapping my palm against the woman’s face and shoving her away from me. Her hand grabbed my shoulder, refusing to let go. “Hey, what are you doing?!”

“Don’t fucking touch me, rude ass.” I stomped my foot down on hers and she finally let go.

“Ow, that hurt, you brat!” Her purple eyes narrowed at me as she clutched her foot, blonde hair bouncing as she hopped on the other foot.

“Don’t fucking touch people without their permission.” I folded my arms over my chest.

“Listen here, you little -”

“Mt. Lady!” A man grabbed her wrist before she could grab me. He looks like… a leafless tree in a tight blue one-piece. ‘Kay, then. “You can’t attack a student, what are you thinking?”

“This brat attacked me.” She huffed.

I rolled my eyes. “I stomped on your foot because you grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. Get over it.”

“See! She admitted it!” She pointed an accusing finger at me. Bitch, are you five?

“You shouldn’t have grabbed her,” Woodsman scolded before turning to me, softening his voice. “And you shouldn’t attack people.”

“Che,” I looked away from him, turning back to the old man as he handed me my food. Each taco was wrapped separately and all of them were placed in a small, cardboard container.

“Here you are, enjoy!”

“How much do I owe you?”

“Not a thing!” He grinned, giving me a thumbs up. “Just do your best in the sports festival!”

I hummed as something behind him caught my eye. “Hey, can I have that?”

His eyes followed mine and he seemed to realize what I was planning to do. He laughed loudly, taking it down from the peg it hung on and handing it over to me. “Good luck, kid!”

“Thanks,” I sent him a smile before turning toward the stadium.

“Wait a minute! I’m not done with you!” The woman grabbed my shoulder. “You need to learn some respect, kid!”

I scoffed, slapping her hand away. “And you need to learn to keep your hands to your fuckin’ self. Respect is earned, it ain’t given freely, and you ain’t done shit to earn my respect so fuck off, old lady.”

“O-Old?!”

Hmm, how annoying. I weaved my way through the crowd of people, munching on one of the tacos as I re-entered the stadium. I pushed open the door to our waiting room and stopped short as the tense atmosphere.

“- Of course you’re better than me.” Izuku was saying as he faced Todoroki. “In fact, you probably have way more potential than anyone in the hero course. That’s why you got in so easily.”

Fucking rude, you little shit.

“Midoriya, maybe you’re being a little hard on yourself. And us…” Kirishima spoke up, holding his hands up. He was clearly trying to defuse the situation.

“No, he’s right, guys! All the other courses… they’re coming for us with everything they’ve got. We’re all gonna have to fight to stand out. And I’ll be aiming for the top, too!”

“Fine,” Todoroki responded, his voice ice cold.

“Sheesh, you guys are a couple of edgelords, ain’t ya?” I commented before taking another bite of the taco.

“Winchester! Where did you disappear to?” Kiri asked, his eyes snapping to the food in my hand. “Hey, where did you get that food? And where’s mine?”

“Food stand,” I answered. “If I share with you, I’d have to share with the whole class and I ain’t about that life. Sorry, bro.”

He sweatdropped.

“Um, Jen-san?”

“What, Izuku?”

“…why are you wearing a bandana around your forehead that says ‘Shimatsu Tacos’?”

“Don’t question my fashion choices, you little shit.”

“R-Right…”

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