#she's giggling and hiding her face because this is absolutely ridiculous and she feels dumb but also so comfrt in your arms

[elsweetheart]

okay, so. the jail au.

everybody knows that i’m a good girl, officer!

of course, me and @seattlesellie were rambling abt this for like an hour straight and i just had to share some of the little thoughts we came up with because it makes my brain go brrrr ok !!

going back to my roots with girly fem reader !! reader is a lil strap tease, ellie is a loser, and abby is big and scary 🎀

♡ so you find yourself in jail. the reason behind your imprisonment is up to u ok idk !!!

♡ ellie being the corrupt officer who sneaks you in contraband bc poor girly you can’t seem to last without your ‘stupid MAC lipliner’ or rose quartz or whatever it is you have ellie sneaking in.

♡ meeting her in the storage closet for your usual rendezvous, giggling and tugging at her uniform as she swats your hands away, huffing.

♡ “seriously? do you know how hard it is to sneak this shit in? you better hide that good, ‘cus if you get caught m’not saving your ass from Abby.”

♡ abby, of course is the no nonsense prison warden.

♡ the thing about ellie, is she hardly lays down the law. she’s a fucking loser, infact the only reason she lets you get away with so much and got herself caught up in this whole contraband situation is because she quite literally couldn’t resist a pretty girl batting her lashes up at her and caved. it’s pathetic really, but you think she looks super cute under the dim lights of the storage closet, hoping the lack of lighting is enough to hide the blush across her freckled cheeks (it’s not.)

♡ with ellie being a loser, comes ellie being a perv. “gonna have to hide that real good, okay? can’t get caught.” she’s muttering, stuffing the things you’d requested from her down your bra, really getting in there to make sure it’s hidden, of course.

♡ meanwhile, you can’t seem to keep your hands off her — absolutely adoring the thrill of your dirty little secret, feeling special knowing she doesn’t do this for anyone else. she clears her throat when you kiss her on the cheek and grab at her handcuffs. “ooh, can you use these on me?” you flutter making her tsk, flustered and shooing you away despite the burning in her cunt. “those—those are for making arrests okay, shit— y’so handsy.”

♡ maybe if she’s feeling brave enough one day she’ll put you on your knees as payback and hurriedly use your face to get off. maybe. she daydreams about that a lot.

♡ anyway, she’s forever complaining about your ridiculous requests for her to sneak in— and then fulfilling your request within the next few days.

♡ “ellie, i need buttons.” she sighs. “why.” “i’m making a plushie.” the next day she has buttons in her hand.

♡ again, she’d hate for you to get caught — so she’s stuffing the plastic bag of buttons down your prison pants into your underwear before retying the string on your pants and patting over your pussy where she stuffed the bag. “keep that safe. got it? ‘told you, you don’t wanna be on the other end of abby.”

♡ but oh, you did.

♡ how you adored seeing how far you could push it with the big blonde buff prison warden. it started off as you relentlessly asking her dumb flirty questions until she was grabbing you by the cheeks, towering over you and telling you to “get back to your cell.”

♡ but you were unstoppable, always making sure to give her a show in the shower room when she’d be in there on her watch shift. you were starting to think she was trading shifts just to be in there when you were. she’d always stand by the sinks with her arms crossed and eyes narrowed, walkie-talkie on her hip only accenting her toned body. you’d be across from her, shower cubicle door open, hands sliding up and down your body — seeing how long she’d let you slide your hand between your legs and rub your clit until she’d tell you to “cut it out, you’re wasting hot water.” though, you could see the way she shifted her thighs, and her cheeks would go the cutest shade of dusty pink.

♡ abby doing your cell checks was always scary, always just narrowly missing your hiding spots where you’d shove all the things ellie brought you. “you hiding anything in here ma’am?” she’d eye you as you shake your head innocently, watching her pull your blankets up and shake them. “why do i not believe you? little minx like you, always up to something.”

♡ you nearly let a smirk slip, nearly — but instead widen your eyes until they were doe like, looking up at her as she closes in on you, trying to figure you out. “me? no, i’m a good girl. i’d never do that, abby.”

♡ you’d continue to stare up at her as she takes a long look, raking her eyes down your body before back up to your gaze. “thats officer anderson to you.” before departing, never quite giving you what you want.

♡ until, she keeps catching you with officer williams. and it makes her jealous. because obviously, you’re her little prison slut. only hers.

♡ you stand by ellie in the cafeteria for a little too long, talking to eachother under your breath and sparing side glances. abby watches, before deciding to make an example out of you and grabbing you by the scruff of the neck and dragging you back to your cell where you’re out of everyone’s vision, growling something about “stop fraternising with the officers.”

♡ she nudges you back into your cell and is in disbelief at you holding back a mischievous smile when you turn around to face her where she stands in the doorway. “you’re an officer…?” you challenge, batting your lashes. she eyes you hungrily, breathing heavily for a moment before lowly muttering an “other officers.” leaving you with a victorious smile when she storms off.

♡ and then one day she catches you, really catches you. you’re waiting for ellie in the storage closet for an exchange of goods, and when the door opens and closes, you turn around with a smile — only to come face to face with abby. poor ellie was off on prison bus duty, assigned conveniently by none other than officer anderson.

♡ “what’s going on in here, hm? what have you been up to?” her finger stroking the walkie talkie on her leg. your smile fades, caught and your brows furrow — blinking up at her waiting for some kind of punishment. “a little birdie told me you had a thing for officers sneaking in things they shouldn’t, that true?” she knocks your chin up when you look down, attempting to evade her dark gaze.

♡ “i don’t know what you’re—” “you know, everyone breaks the rules sometimes. even a warden like me.” she steps closer, backing you against the wall making you gasp lightly as something light falls off the shelf behind you. she grabs your wrist, bringing your fingers to her crotch, a hard plastic cock bulged beneath her pants. you whimper, because it feels huge. “yeah, see. i can be sneaky too. maybe you can continue keeping that slutty mouth closed, and i’ll keep my mouth shut about your little meet ups with officer williams. we got a deal?” she pushes into you more, a shelf digging into your back and covered cock pushing up against your crotch making you let out a shaky breath.

♡ “i can — i can keep a secret.” “yeah? huh. maybe i misjudged you. maybe you are a good girl.”

♡ and when you show up all weak legged, bruised and hot faced to meet with ellie the next day for your rescheduled pick up — she has a million questions, brows frowning in not so subtle jealousy and pouting.

♡ “so what, i bring you your shit for months and you just let the first warden who comes in here fuck? that shit is so unfair.” she complains, barely trying to shrug you off when you run your hands up her toned arms and rest them on her shoulders.

♡ “lemme make it up to you, show you how grateful i am, els.” she let’s you kiss her for a minute, melting a little at the way you suck on her bottom lip before pulling away and fixing her uniform after your grabby hands had skewed it. “just— take your shit and get lost. i’ll see you in the cafeteria.”

♡ but she can’t stay mad at your cute little face. especially when you’re sooo sweet to her, and let her take her anger out on you in the next closet meet up with her fingers.

[pettyprocrastination]

Thinking about stitches making dinner at Maxwell and Valerie’s house and dancing around the kitchen :’)

[char-lotteral]

Ticket Booth

Great. Just what she needed.

Amity being stood up on her blind date.

Again.

"This is just ridiculous." She sighs to herself, impatiently alternating between checking her phone and the watch on her wrist just to avoid human confrontation from any passersby on the street.

I mean, is she surprised? Not really. Did she hope it would turn out different? Kinda

Not like this was the first time Ed and Em had set her up on another blind date. You should head out more! Meet new people, get a change of environment!

New people, my ass. If ever she gets a chance to meet these said new people, that is.

Amity checks her phone again with a big bright 8:10 PM, humiliating her at every passing second. Tick, tick, tick. There's that sound of that unnecessarily large wall clock hung in front of the movie theaters, more people arriving in front of the ticket booth, hands interlaced and smiles all warm and happy, and goddammit; her date was supposed to be here 10 minutes ago!

The wind's gotten colder, the theaters getting overcrowded, her feet hurt from standing too much, and in attempt to hide herself from the sad, despicable, cynical reality of it all, she huddles herself inside her massive winter cloak, tendrils of bubblegum hair sticking out from the side of her hoodie.

Why God, why did she agree to go to this?!

"Are you waiting for someone?"

Snapping out of her thoughts, Amity whips her attention towards the (cute) lady behind the ticket booth. Not one for initiating conversations, she coughs to suppress her shyness and answers, "Uh y-yeah. I have a um, a date. I'm waiting for them."

The lady behind the ticket booth smiles this really cute smile of hers and suddenly Amity has forgotten her name altogether. "You know, I don't wanna sound rude or anything, but the movie starts at exactly 8:15. And I don't think you'll be able to see it if you're gonna be out here, freezing in the cold."

She laughs tucking a hair behind her ear. "Yeah well, this isn't my first time being stood up so I guess I'm used to it at this point."

"Wait, you're being stood up?"

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Now she thinks you're some hopeless romantic.

Shaking her head frantically, she manages to salvage herself from this stranger that she has a sudden urge to impress all of a sudden. "W-What? No! I meant my date was um busy and they texted me too late, so I guess I am kinda freezing my ass off outside the movie theater. But not because I was waiting for them the entire evening! I-I have better things to do than um..."

Being stood up by my blind date who hasn't even met me! Crap, maybe I am the problem?

"Better things to do like stand outside in the freezing cold?"

Her eyes dart towards the ticket lady who no doubt is feeling sympathetic for her pathetic ass and as she does, there's still that smile of hers etched on her face, looking down at her with some sympathy but she doesn't mind, she likes how she's looking at her. Had she already mentioned she thought she was cute?

"O-Or that." Amity answers pathetically, chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

"Tell you what," The lady in the booth begins. "Maybe I can refund you for the tickets? I won't tell my boss or anything, they'll be fine with it."

Ticket lady was being awfully nice to her, which was strange because most strangers usually had a fight or flight response whenever they saw Amity talking to them, probably because of her intimidating aura, which she doesn't really blame them for. This cute ticket lady on the other hand, was a whole different story.

"Oh no, my sister's already paid for the tickets online, plus I don't think these two tickets are refundable so um, I guess I'll just have to watch this movie alone or maybe sell my ticket to someone who actually has a date." She giggles again, internally sorry for her own situation.

The cute ticket lady pauses for a second, attention a bit distant and elbows perched above her desk. Amity debates with herself whether or not she should just say fuck it and watch the movies alone, at least until ticket lady finally looks up and meets her eye to eye. And woah, she never knew eyes could look that brown.

"Hey, how about I watch it with ya?"

... What?

"What?" She parrots her thoughts. I'm sorry did she hear that right?

The lady smiles even wider, eyes pinched from the apples of her cheeks and a smile so bright, it could rival the stars above them. "You heard me. I wanna watch it with you!"

"You wanna... watch it with me?"

" 'Course I would. That is, if you'll allow me? I promise I'll pay for the tickets, I'm not scamming you or something."

"Oh um, can I ask why?"

The lady laughs again, oblivious to the damage she's been doing to Amity's poor stomach. Butterflies seemed like a stupid analogy, it was like the entire zoo came in to visit. "I can't let a pretty girl walk inside that movie theater all alone. There might be some serial killers inside there."

Oh.

Well, this turned out to be the best possible scenario she could come up with.

Pretty girl? Her?

This night just keeps getting better and better.

Feeling uncharacteristically playful, she refutes back, cheeks ablaze by the little compliment. "And how do I know that you're not a serial killer, plotting to bury my body?"

Her eyes are squinting from absolute mirth, clearly not expecting her to reply back. "I can prove to you that I am not, in fact, a serial killer by politely introducing myself. "Luz Noceda. College student by day, billionaire philanthropist by night."

"By billionaire philanthropist, do you mean ticket booth manager? Because I think both are equally badass."

Luz shrugs, unfazed. "Eh, its hard living the double life. I have to keep my identity hidden so no one assassinates me in broad daylight."

Simultaneously, they both laugh at their dumb topic, and Amity has never felt this alight with another person before. Her chest feels tighter, her cheeks hurt from smiling so much and she thinks that maybe, just maybe, this night might not be as bad as she initially thought it would be.

"So, have I proven myself worthy? Can I watch it with you?" Luz is practically bouncing on her feet, tail wagging like a retriever waiting for her treat. She looks so damn adorable behind the ticket booth that Amity's heart threatens to jump out of her throat and melt right in front of her.

So what if a cute girl wants to watch a movie with you? Big deal! It's not like she's asking for your hand in marriage. It's not like it's a date or anything.

Oh God, is it a date?! Oh no, no, no. What has she gotten herself into?!

What if she says yes and embarrasses herself right in front of her? They barely even know each other! They don't know each other at all! What if this really, really cute girl doesn't actually like her and is just doing this out of pity and turns out they'll never see each other again, and, and—

"Hey, earth to bubblegum, I'm still here. In case, you forgot. I don't wanna be all rude or anything—"

"N-No!" Amity cuts her off so quickly, she's on the verge of a panic attack. "You can watch it with me! We can watch it t-together! I'd l-love to!"

Smooth move Blight, smooth move.

Her words seemed to be enough to calm Luz down and she feels like she has God to personally thank for for that beautiful smile of hers. Honestly, how can one smile like that? It's that type of smile that could brighten an entire room or the physical embodiment of joy, youth and everything else good in the world.

"Wait, but what about the ticket booth? Are you allowed to leave it alone?" Concerned, Amity asks Luz as she walks out of the booth.

"Nah, Eda won't mind. I think. I-I'll be back before she even notices I'm gone. Won't be a problem! Hopefully." Taking off her cap, Luz locks the door behind her, tucking the key safely in her pocket. She looks back at Amity, eyes gleaming from the adventure of it all. Eyes that remind her of chestnut and coffee on a cold, serene morn. And a low, pixie cut to tie it all together.

Luz hands out her palm, anticipation and adrenaline coursing through her, she's smiling that sunny smile of hers again, cheeks flushed and hair a mess from the stuffy cap and Amity thinks to herself again that wow, she really is cute.

"You ready?"

Two words, two simple words from a stranger she's never even met before. What would Ed and Em think if they saw her right now, watching movies with a random girl she doesn't even know? Her instincts are telling her to go, leave, maybe find another night to watch the movies, you can pay for the tickets another day, you barely even know this person!

But when Amity finally looks up from her hand to those chestnut eyes and that smile of pure unabashed warmth, she's made her decision.

She's positive that her cheeks are the brightest shade of red, practically glowing under the cheap porch light, but if she squints, just enough, the same shade of red are on Luz's cheeks too, flushed and cherry red, just as she was. Nervous albeit excited, just as she was.

"I thought you'd never ask."

[peralta-guaranteed]

any headcanons of amy missing jake during safe house or the venting to rosa when he was in witness protection?

(you can tell how sleep-deprived I am because I read this entirely wrong and thought about Jake missing Amy, and wrote a whole HC on that until I realised he couldn't have been venting to Rosa during his own WitSec?!?)

- WitSec is hard on all of them - they've lost their captain and their Jakey - but it's obviously hardest on Amy who's lost her mentor AND her man. So even though Rosa doesn't really 'do' girl-time she absolutely resolves to do as much girl-time with Amy as she needs to help her.

- so there's not a week where Rosa doesn't rock up, often with Gina in tow, to do movie marathons or spa days or trash tv compilations or whatever else Amy needs to keep her mind off of things. And when she notices that being at home, with all those remnants of Jake everywhere despite him not even living there, is even harder on Amy, those evenings shift to her place instead that she suddenly is ready to give an adress for.

- it takes Amy quite a while to give in and actually talk about how hurt she is, because she'd promised to be brave and she's a professional and they're working hard to get Figgis and it'll all be alright soon. But when the two month mark hits and nothing has changed at all, the dam breaks and all it takes is one of Jake's favourite movies on movie night to turn her into a crying mess. Gina awkwardly pats her back and Rosa also awkwardly tries to hug her, and she's just crying and saying things they barely understand through the snot and sobs.

- "I need him back. I can't- I rewrote the life calendar. I replanned. I changed everything with him in mind. I can't just not have him back." is the first time Rosa realises just how serious this thing is. I mean, she knew Jake was done for and would probably never come out the other end of his Santiago-mania without some major mental breakdown if it ever happened, but now she understands that Amy's in it for basically forever herself. "You will. He's gonna come bounding back with some stupid joke and the most ridiculous stories about this new alter ego he played which probably has the most ridiculous name the Feds allowed him to have." "What if he can't? What if he never comes back? What if Jake is gone?" Rosa doesn't have an answer for that, not one she can say out loud, but she realises that she's absolutely willing to break into whatever Federal office she needs to to find out Jake's location and deliver his alter ego with an alter ego girlfriend smuggled down to wherever he is in Florida, even if it means losing her best friend for life to get them back together.

- Amy stays at hers for the night that day, too cried out and stressed to go home on the subway, and if she ends up cuddled into Rosa's bed like a little sister hiding in her big sibling's bed during a thunderstorm instead of the couch, well, it's nobody's business that Rosa was extremely happy to see her waking up with a smile on her face instead of crying again.

- Rosa throws herself into the Figgis-case as much as she's ever worked on a case after that, while also doing her best to keep Amy on a normal human schedule with food and sleep instead of having her sacrifice everything for that case as well. It is a full-time job, but she's glad she gets to do it. Charles helps, in his own way, by being way too nosy and telling her about all the times he's seen Amy sneak out for cigarettes, or saw her being online on facebook at times where she'd promised Rosa she'd go to bed early.

- basically Rosa becomes Amy's impromptu mom/big sis, and she has to endure a lot more crying and sad ranting in the next 4 months. So when Jake finally gets to come back with them, she makes him swear, pinky-promise, bloodpact, whatever, that he's never going to leave Amy alone like this ever again if he can avoid it (she's not dumb, she knows life will find a shit way to get between them which will not be his fault, but she can at least rule out THAT variable)

- so when she hears that Jake volunteered to get into the Safe House with Kevin she mentally calculates just how many pushups he owes her until he dies of over-extension or something, except then Amy would lose him again, and goddamnit Peralta you goddamn jerk.

- luckily Amy is not nearly as distraught this time around, and Rosa suspects she has already figured out where the Safe House is so she feels more assured knowing where Jake is hiding, and that it might not be for as long as WitSec was. She still shows up for movie nights with Gina. And she still hugs a teary-eyed Amy and tells her about how Jake is probably annoying Kevin with Die Hard reference no 12374 right now, this very second, which makes Amy giggle so job well done, Diaz.

- "I almost miss his Die Hard references, though.." "Wow love has really turned you insane" "It's not that bad a movie" "And dumb. Love has turned you insane and dumb."

- Rosa is the one to lobby/pressure Holt into letting Amy visit the Safe House. She's not going to tell anyone how many threats and/or favours she's had to call in for that.

- when Jake comes back, he gets a hug, a double punch, and a choice set of words from her before she makes him drop down for at least 1000 pushups.

- and then she sends him home immediately with orders not to come back for at least 2 days until Amy is happy and satisfied and absolutely not alone anymore

[yanderemommabean]

A really dumb comfort scenario by Mommabean

Dabi x Reader fluff stuff

Dabi never used to see himself as a night owl. Standing out as the skies turn from a pleasant purple to a dark shade of black speckled with bright stars wasn’t something he saw himself enjoying, not until a few months ago when fate decided he needed to meet someone worth staying out late with.

Usually he prefers to just stay inside and do his own thing, be that scrolling through memes or simply just listening to music while he turns the lights off and drifts into his mind for a few hours. On rare occasions he’ll spend time with friends, but it drains him considerably and he has to recharge his battery afterwards.

It doesn’t mean he hates them, he’s just not a person with a lot of energy, but he knows people take it personally. Which can’t really be helped as he isn’t the best with words on explaining why he does what he does, honestly he doesn’t even know.

Typically his weeks goes like this - working with assholes who act like siblings rather than coworkers, then wanting to unwind as soon as he gets home because if he doesn’t he’ll snap or possibly have a mental break. Which probably already happened considering where he is now, but another break isn’t something to want to happen either.

But Dabi was forced out one night a few months back by Toga, who he can’t say no to often as she’s like a little sister and he adores her as such, and was dragged practically to a restaurant for drinks and food as a way to celebrate their hard work. Even Shigaraki got a stick out of his ass for a hangout, so he supposed he could suck it up for their sake.

Leave it to his soft heart to make him torture his own antisocial ass. However, this time he was seemingly gifted, as he heard laughter from across the room and saw you, giggling and almost snorting as you covered your face at the ridiculous joke a friend made. You looked absolutely precious, for lack of a better word. Not a care in the world as you laughed and giggled so hard you lost your breath.

He was drawn to the brightness you added to the dull restaurant, vaguely paying attention to the conversation his own group was having as you peaked his interest. Dabi figures he was being too obvious with his staring, as you looked over and met his gaze directly, but instead of flipping him off and acting like a full Karen, you waved and gave a shy smile.

That kinda hurt to not see that pretty smile. You’ve hidden it the entire time he’s been watching you, as if you hated it. Well, he’s got a plan for that, just you wait. He’ll get you to smile for him, just give him time. He remembers how he managed to greet you, both of you talking and surprisingly having a lot in common.

A total mindfuck to find out an adorable, fluffy person like you was into murder documentaries, scary stories, horror films, and loved to study obscure and odd mysteries. Color him pleasantly surprised. You two kept chatting away after the awkward ice was broken, to the point your friends were getting a bit pissy and telling you to hurry up to leave.

Fuck ‘em. He didn’t like them then and he doesn’t like them now. Out of spite he wanted to ask you for a drink so he could drag out the conversation longer, but he didn’t need to make a bad impression or make Shigaraki think he was pulling something. Which again, was fair, he was known for pulling some stupid shit every now and again.

Months. It’s been months and he hasn’t gotten tired of meeting you and being around you. You’ve had your arguments sure, had your moments where you and him were a bit tense, but that didn’t deter anything. Hell, you two have nicknames for one another now, and he allows you to play with his hair every now and again. He doesn’t let anyone get that close except Toga, you should be a little honored. Nothing is ever getting rid of him if you two are this close already.

It’s still baffling. Months! And all this time, you still hid that pretty smile. The very thing that drew him too you in the first place. What do you have to be ashamed of? Besides your search history, absolutely nothing! Dabi sighs as he sits on the steps outside of his apartment, looking up to the night sky, waiting for you to answer on if you wanted to hangout or not. Either way he began to enjoy this new sight, this addition to his schedule was something he looked forward to more than his late night music sessions.

He was about to text you again, thumb hovering over the keyboard as he thought of what to say, but three dots appear and he decides to wait and see. You, being the sweetheart you are, tell him to wait and that you’ll meet him in ten. A warm feeling fills his chest again knowing you’d be here. It’s been happening a lot lately actually, and he’s not an idiot. He knows he likes you, he’s just never liked someone to this extent. Should he be embarrassed? Excited? Happy? Who the hell knows. All he knows is he would do anything for you, and his feelings towards you are only growing.

Dabi flicks his phone off after a minute and looks around, waiting for you to show up. While scanning the area, he heard frantic steps coming up the sidewalk that were approaching fast, in a panic. He jumps up to his feet to see who could be running his way, more curious than in the mood to save someone.

However, seeing you with tears running down your face wasn’t at all what he expected. He felt rage and worry surge through him, an almost animal like possessiveness took over him and the idea that something happened makes him sick with anger. His body moves without him thinking, his arms wrapping around you and holding you tightly, listening to your shaking sobs as you cling to him and begin to apologize.

“Hey- hey what happened?!” He asked sternly, sounding more pissed than worried, cringing slightly at his tone. Smart move asshole, make them feel even worse. Genius.

You stutter and begin to try and talk, but your throat is tight and your eyes are still pouring like waterfalls. You shake your head and clench your eyes shut again, burying your face into his chest as your knuckles turn white from gripping his sleeves for dear life. Dabi tensed, breath hitching as you hugged him tightly and began to shudder and weep into him.

Hands gently rub your back as he slowly walks with you, guiding you to the steps he was just at to help you sit down and get yourself together. “Who’s ass do I need to kick?”.

You giggle at that, wiping your eyes as you shake your head playfully “No ones Dabi...I’ve just been feeling super fucking depressed and stressed out because of work and I feel I have no time for myself anymore and...well I just needed to be with someone who understands”.

He was touched that you saw him as someone you could come too. Seriously have you seen him? He’s the worlds most selfish asshole! He can’t even trust himself half the time, especially when it comes to bothering people and pulling pranks. You might wanna reconsider who you’re trusting there.

Although hearing no one hurt you was calming, he was still worried for your wellbeing.

“I get it. I mean I’m not the best with comforting but I understand what you mean. It’s frustrating as hell not even having time to rest, and then having to head back to work for nine hours or more over and over...it ain’t easy”. He rubs the back of his neck as he speaks, already feeling the anxiety over his schedule for tomorrow.

Sniffling softly, you nod and scoot closer to him, his warmth soothing and comforting compared to the chilling winds of the night. “Yeah. And it doesn’t stop for decades. I’ll never have free time again or I’ll always feel tired and drained and I hate it”.

Now that’s not necessarily true, but he knows where you’re coming from. Every day lately seems like such a struggle, he knows it all too well. It was clear you needed more than to vent and rant, and he has just the thing to help the mood. “It’s not all that monotonous. I think you’re just overwhelmed and need a break. Wanna come in? I think we both need a drink and a few laughs”.

You fiddle with your hands a bit, looking down at your feet with lips pursed in thought. “I can stay the night?”. What kind of question is that? Seriously what kind of question?! You literally just cried into his shirt no problem, now you’re worried about personal space? “Dude, you really have to ask? Stay a fucking week if you want, just get your ass inside before I drag you in” he jokes.

You look away as you smile, standing up and dusting off your legs before heading into his apartment behind him. Maybe tonight he’ll get you to stop hiding that smile, to bring those walls down even more and let him show how amazing you are in his eyes. Just maybe.

((This was bad I know I know I just needed a way to vent -Mommabean))

[moldisgoodforyou]

YES THEM REMINISCING ON THEIR “hatred” and how far they came would just be chefs kiss

you got it 😌

warning: cursing, underage drinking, mentions of a fight

wordcount 2.7k

_____

Over Christmas break, after another high school reunion party, Rafe and Sophie were both tipsy and giggly as they made their way up to Rafe’s room. It was already made pretty clear at Sophie’s house that ‘sleepovers’ of any kind with Rafe weren’t allowed, so she had to lie and tell her parents she was staying with a friend. “Soph, shh!” He admonished, practically dragging her upstairs as she tripped over her feet.  

“S’not my fault!” She argued, pushing his hands away again as he tried to help. Finally they made it up to his room and both fell onto the bed, curling up into each other. “Hey, Rafe.” She whispered, grinning. 

“Hey what.” He pulled her close, hands automatically going to play with her hair. “I like you.” She hummed, pressing her head into his touch. He laughed and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I like you too. Hey, the boys and I were talking tonight, about us in high school, and they reminded me of something.” 

Sophie scowled. “Probably not a good thing then.” 

“No, no. Remember when you got in that fight in high school?” She paused, turning to face him. “Wasn’t really a fight, but yeah.” He glanced over her to gauge her expression. “That wasn’t over me. Right?”

She shrugged, trying to stay casual even though a blush betrayed her. “No? I mean, I wouldn’t say it was over you, technically.”

He grinned. “Soph, you didn’t.”

“Hm. Might have.”

“Tell me.”

______

“He’s a fucking idiot. Too easy.” Alexandra giggled in the locker room to her friends, applying lip gloss after their gym class. It was senior year and there was a big party planned at the Cameron’s house for the weekend. She had been discussing her plans to hook up with Rafe and then ditch him for the past fifteen minutes, and Sophie had had enough.

A strange feeling bubbled up inside her and Sophie swung open her locker with more force than necessary, the clang echoing around the room. “He’s not.” 

Alexandra raised a cool eyebrow, glancing her way. “Did you say something, Flint?”

“He’s not an idiot.”  Sophie repeated, a little clearer. 

“Oh, honey. He’s not here to hear you standing up for him, you know that? Even Cameron wouldn’t sleep with you.” Alexandra taunted, rolling her eyes. 

Sophie certainly didn’t like Rafe, but she didn’t mind him. And he wasn’t an idiot by any means - he held his own against her fairly well, and she respected the hell out of that. (Although she’d never, ever, admit it to his face.) 

“I’ve never considered that, but thanks for the heads up.” She retorted dryly. 

That was a lie. She’d considered it far too many times. Thought about what his lips might feel like against hers, his big hands gripping her hips, his -

“Earth to Sophie.” Alexandra rudely interrupted her thoughts, laughing when Sophie glanced over with a mildly confused expression. “Why do you care, anyways?” 

“He has feelings too, y’know. Would you like it if someone said use ‘em and lose ‘em about you?” Sophie frowned, lacing up her tennis shoes. 

“No one would ever say that about me.” Alexandra replied with a smug smile, then stepped into her heels that were about two inches too tall for the dress code. She couldn’t walk straight in them, and looked ridiculous, especially given the fact that it was an all-girls school and the only male she had to impress was the 28-year-old history teacher. (On second thought, maybe that did make sense.)

As she walked past, Sophie made a split-second decision and stuck her toe out just so, making Alexandra trip and fall to the concrete floor with a thud, her now-shattered cell phone clattering across the tile along with a couple broken nails. The two stared each other down for a second until Sophie smirked. “Oops.”  

Alexandra lunged first, yanking at Sophie’s ponytail. “You bitch!”  

It didn’t take long before the gym teacher came running out of her office, breaking the two girls up. Sophie had taken the brunt of it, a slap to the face and a few scratches down the arm, while she acted mainly in self-defense. (Mainly.)

The two were escorted to the office straight away, in silence. The principal was shocked to see Sophie in there, almost disbelieving of Alexandra’s sob story. “Miss Flint? Do you have anything to say for yourself?” 

“She deserved it.” Sophie muttered, clear as day. 

“Oh my god, she’s not even sorry!” Alexandra cried out, wiping away a few false tears.  

“Have you thought about joining theater, Alex? You seem to have a knack for  it.” Sophie shot her a faux-sweet smile, sarcasm dripping from her tone. 

“Girls.” The principal warned, shaking her head. “I have to say, I’m surprised...Sophie, I’ll have to give you a week’s worth of detention. Alexandra...” She sighed. “One day -”

“But she started it -”  

“One day.” She repeated firmly, and Sophie held back a smug look. “Violence at Greenville Academy, honestly. You two know better. Both of you, out.”  

Two days later, at the party, Sophie wore the bruise of Alexandra’s handprint with pride. She hadn’t bothered to cover the ugly purple mark with concealer, considering it a conversation starter instead. “Heard you got in a fight this week, Flint.” Rafe greeted her, reaching out to grip her chin lightly and get a better view. Sophie yanked her head back out of his touch. “Might have, what’s it to you?”  

He just grinned, smug as ever. “Didn’t think you were the type.” 

“Yeah, well, let it serve as a reminder of what I can do if you really piss me off.” She quipped, trying - and failing - to hide a shudder as she took a long sip of her mostly vodka-lemonade. 

“What happened?” 

“None of your business, asshole.” She tacked on the last word more out of nerves than anything, not wanting to be caught in a lie.

“M’ just asking, chill.” He raised his hands in defense, tone turning a little more sincere. “Just ‘cause - y’know. I heard I was involved.”  

Sophie took another long sip of her drink, cursing under her breath. Sarah. Of course she should have known, his little sister was in Sophie’s gym class and had the biggest mouth of anyone she knew. “You heard wrong, Cameron.” 

“Alright. Hey, Alexandra’s been flirting with me the whole party.” He changed the subject, testing her. “Think I should go for it?” 

“I’d rather not hear about your lackluster sex life in the locker room next week, so no, for my sake.” She retorted coolly, though her shoulders tensed up and jaw set a little at the thought of him in bed with Alexandra. 

He nodded, suspicions confirmed, then smirked. “I can prove to you it’s not lackluster, you know.” 

“I’d like to see you try.” She shot back, regretting it the second the words came out of her mouth. “Not like - I didn’t mean -” 

“Relax, Soph.” He grinned and reached out, gently tracing his thumb along her bruised cheek. “How about another time when you’re not hurting?”

She froze, resisting every single urge she had to lean into his touch or just take a tiny step forward and plant one on him. “Do you ever shut up?”

“I would if you’d make me.”

“Oh, fuck off.” She replied lamely, rolling her eyes and walking away.

_______

“I can’t believe you fought for my honor.” Rafe grinned, teasing her. Sophie was bright red now and shoved on his chest. “It was years ago, get over it. I wouldn’t do it now.” He gaped. “Soph! You would too!” 

“I wouldn’t! I’m not dumb enough to get in a fight, I’m 21.” She told him pointedly, knowing full well that Rafe would absolutely get in a fight at that age. He scowled. “I’d fight for you.” 

“You shouldn’t, I can’t see any good reason for you to.” She paused. “Besides, I stopped standing up for you after that.” 

He furrowed his brow. “Why?” 

“Because you made me cry after winter formal.” 

He tilted his head, confused. “Is that what Carter was talking about at Thanksgiving? I really don’t remember that.” 

“Yeah, ‘cause I didn’t want you to know.” She grinned, ultra-dramatic. “I was heartbroken.” 

He rolled his eyes and kissed her. “Remind me?”

_______

“Taking anyone to winter formal, Rafe?” Kelce asked him as they were out on the driving range at the golf course, a usual pastime for them. 

Sophie was two tees away, practicing hitting on her own - she didn’t miss the fact that Rafe positioned himself close enough to watch her, but enjoyed the attention and the low whistles almost every time she leaned over to hit the ball. She hated the actual sport of golf, and only played to spend time with her dad, but she found solace in the stress relief of just hitting 100 balls in a row.

“Not yet.” The dance was two weeks away, and Rafe had been teasing Sophie about coming with him for a month now. “Hey, Soph!” 

She ignored him, pulling back for a swing until she felt him grab the end of her club in mid-air. She cursed under her breath and turned on her heel, indignant. “Jesus, Rafe, I could have knocked you out cold.”  

“Doubt it, your swing’s not strong enough.” 

She huffed and stepped closer, toe-to-toe with him - responding just as he’d hoped she would. “Would you like me to test that theory?”

“Leave her alone, Rafe!” Kelce called out, annoyed the two had found a way to fight again. 

He grinned. “Just thought I’d stop by and ask about your plans for the winter formal. You’d look pretty on my arm, you know.” 

"Do you get off on being rejected, Rafe?” She questioned dryly. 

“You’re gonna entertain the thought one day. Mark my words.” He let go of her club and stepped back, giving her room to hit again. 

Sophie rolled her eyes and extended her club just enough to poke him in the ass as he walked away. “In your dreams, Cameron.”

That banter continued right up until three days before formal. Sophie had rejected two invitations, one from a friend and one from a boy who actually showed interest in her. Secretly, she was hoping Rafe might come around and ask her for real - because the last ten times were just teasing, right? 

She was sorely mistaken when her friend on the track team at the time, Ashley, called her eagerly that night. “Sophie you’ll never guess who just asked me to the dance!” Ashley squealed into the phone.

“Landon finally worked up the nerve?” Sophie asked. 

“What? No. Rafe asked me! Rafe Cameron!”

Sophie’s mouth went dry and she was thankful she was receiving the news on the phone, not in person where she’d have to hide her reaction. “Oh. That’s, um, that’s awesome, Ash.” 

Ashley launched into a dreamy speech about how excited she was and Rafe said he’d match his tie to her dress and Sophie wouldn’t start anything when they went to dinner, right, and - “Sophie.” 

“What? Oh, sorry, my dad was calling my name.” She lied quickly, forcing a smile so it’d come through in her tone. 

“Who are you bringing?” 

“Ah...Ben.” Sophie decided quickly, and hoped to god Ben was still available. He was Rafe’s basketball teammate, and practically his sworn enemy, and fine, maybe that was exactly the reason she chose Ben. 

“Seriously?” The puzzlement was obvious in Ashley’s tone. “Have you two been talking?” 

“Here and there.” Sophie confirmed vaguely, already regretting her lie. “So Rafe’s coming to the whole thing, then? Pictures and dinner before, the afterparty at yours?” 

“Yeah, of course!” Ashley gushed. 

Sophie tried to ignore the knot forming in her stomach. “Awesome. Hey, I gotta knock out my math homework, but we can talk about it at school tomorrow?” 

“Oh yeah, for sure. Talk later!”  

As soon as the phone clicked off, Sophie fell back onto her bed with a groan. “Fucking hell.” She gave herself a solid two minutes of wallowing before calling Ben, putting on her flirtiest voice, and asking him to formal. He accepted right away. God, men are so fucking easy, she thought to herself. Except when they aren’t. 

The look on Rafe’s face was absolutely priceless when she strolled into the country club, head held high, hand-in-hand with Ben. “Surprised he didn’t ask you.” Ben murmured into Sophie’s ear, making a show of it just to piss Rafe off. “What do you mean?” She whispered back, stomach turning in knots at his proximity. “Kinda figured you two were a thing, given how often he talks about you in the locker room.” Ben shrugged. “But I’m glad you’re here with me instead.” 

“Yeah. Me too.” Sophie replied weakly, giving Rafe an overly polite nod of acknowledgment. Rafe nodded back, and that was the extent of their communication for the night. 

Until the party. 

Sophie was four drinks in, way too much for her low tolerance, when she found Rafe alone in the kitchen. “What the fuck, Rafe?” 

He turned around, amused. “Hello to you too, Soph.” 

“You brought Ashley to the dance?” She accused, foot slipping on a spilled drink as she strode closer. He caught her by the waist, then quickly moved his hand to her arm instead as he steadied her. “Yeah. What’s it to you?” 

“Thought you were going to ask me.” She wasn’t nearly drunk enough to be making such brazen statements, but figured if he called her out, she could pretend to be hammered.  

He raised his eyebrows, caught off guard as he pulled her a little closer. “Never thought that was an option.”

“Maybe if you actually tried to be sincere for once, it could be.” They were way too close to be comfortable, but everything felt overwhelmingly right, Sophie decided. He leaned in an inch more so their foreheads touched, breath intermingling. She tilted her head up - just slightly - until - 

“Sophie!” Ben called out and the two sprang apart like the same poles on a magnet. Ben wandered into the kitchen, grinning, two shots in hand. “There you are - oh.” His voice instantly fell flat as he took in the situation, Sophie’s flushed face and Rafe’s angry expression at the interruption. “Were you two...?” He gestured sloppily with the shots, tequila spilling to the floor. 

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Sophie snapped without a second thought. “I was just grabbing another drink.” She lifted her near-empty beer, and Rafe bit hard on the inside of his cheek to stay impassive. “Watch your hands around my girl, Cameron.” Ben joked, still wary of what he had walked in on. 

Sophie wrinkled her nose. “I’m not your girl, Ben, this was just a one-time thing.” She informed him, strolling past him and out of the kitchen with a huff. Ben watched with a slack jaw, completely confused, and set the shots on the counter. “What just...”

Rafe smirked. “She does that. Kinda her thing.”

“Sure you two didn’t..?” Ben asked. Rafe just shrugged. 

Once Ben left, going after Sophie, Rafe cursed and slammed his palm to the countertop. Sophie’s instant dismissal of the situation stung him more than he expected. Then he did what any rational seventeen-year-old boy would do - he took the two tequila shots, no chaser, and immediately set out to go make out with Ashley - right in Sophie’s line of sight. 

She retaliated, of course, by getting more drunk and making out with Ben on the opposite side of the party, willing herself to ignore the sloppy way his tongue tried to force its way down her throat. After a few minutes, she pushed away from Ben. “I’m gonna go - I need some air.” 

“I’ll come.” Ben volunteered. She shook her head quickly, pushing him away with a hand on his face. “No, it’s fine, I’m fine. Um, I’ll see you later.” He frowned, confused, but let her go. She passed by Rafe as she went, texting her brother Carter a very poorly-written drunk message to come pick her up. “Real classy, Soph.” 

“Fuck you, Cameron.” She shot back, doing her best not to cry as she made her way to the front. 

___ 

Rafe frowned, returning to play with her hair as she finished the story from her perspective. “I don’t remember that. I made out with your friend? You’re sure?” 

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m sure. And then I swore to myself I’d never give you the time of day.” 

He grinned. “But I’m just too irresistible, right?” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s totally it.”

[our-heroes-rise]

slip of the tongue

pairing: todoroki x bilingual! reader

request:  Hi, I want to request a scenario for Todoroki. It’s about a reader who is actually his gf, but she talks portuguese as maternal language. When she got nervous, she start to panic in Portuguese, and she’s nervous to meet Shoto’s mom. How he will help her( something like that). I hope you like this idea. 🇧🇷🇧🇷✌🏻✌🏻

hero name: @todoroki-vivian

a/n: hi, lovely! omg yes, you can aboslutely have a todoroki request, i adore this boy. and i loved this idea so much! it was so darn cute. as someone of mixed race who grew up with a heavily hispanic family i think it’s always fun to imagine bringing home one of the bnha boys/girls. seeing how they’d react to be introduced to the sort of music, food, and p a r t i e s that i grew up with. i’d be completely useless teaching them any g o o d spanish though cause my mother never taught me when i was a kid :’). i only know a couple of phrases and the bad words lol. i don’t touch on any of that here because i’m not too familiar with portuguese culture and i don’t want to offend anyone by getting something wrong because i am uneducated on the subjectttt. there’s only like two words of real portuguese in here and they are from google translate because i wasn’t sure what the difference was between the spanish pronunciation and the portuguese pronunciation. OKAY after that whole thing i hope you enjoy this little scenario, i had a lot of fun writing it and it was super duper cute. thanks for requesting baby hero!

word count: 1,717

warnings: none! this is all fluff :)

Your knee bounced with the subtle rocking of the train cart, heel occasionally tapping against the floor when the wheels ran over a bump in the tracks. No matter how hard you tried, no amount of slow deep breaths or mental reminders that everything would be fine, it would go well, would calm the ever growing bundle of nerves buzzing within the pit of your stomach. It crawled beneath your skin, flinching at the tips of your fingers which picked at the worn plastic seal of your seat, pinched at your bottom lip.

You watched the blur of winter barren trees whirl past the window, not really watching at all, thinking of every way not to mess up this very important day. This very, very important day on which absolutely nothing could go wrong because this was - it was his -

A comforting warmth pressed into your shoulder, calloused fingers wiggling their way through the gaps between yours, bringing a halt to your incessant fidgeting. Striking blue and grey find your gaze, softened by the unspoken question of concern knotting his brows.

What’s wrong?

“I’m just - It’s dumb, really,” you laugh softly, able to recognize how terribly ridiculous you would sound now that the words sit at the front of your mind. “I’m just overthinking things. I’m okay.” For extra reassurance, you give his hand a small squeeze, offering a smile.

Your boyfriend doesn’t seem to buy it.

“You’re not okay if something’s worrying you,” Todoroki says, head dipping to catch your eyes as you try to look away to hide your apprehension. “It might help if you talk about it.”

Bottom lip caught between your teeth once again, a soft sigh blows through nose, and you lean further into his shoulder, grateful for the gentle heat that bleeds through your jacket sleeve, soothing your nerves. You drop your attention to the spot where your fingers are now intertwined sitting atop his thigh, his thumb tracing over the ridges of your knuckles, saying he’s content to wait for as long as you need.

Well, at least until the arrival of your last stop where you would inevitably have to step off the train and face the anxiety tearing through your head.

It’ll be fine, stop worrying so much. It’ll be fine, it will be fine, it will be -

“What if she doesn’t like me?” You blurt suddenly, cheeks flushing in embarrassment as the eyes of a few curious strangers flicker over to you. Your face sinks further into the protective cocoon of your scarf.

His thumb pauses briefly before picking up its mindless pattern again. “What do you - ?”

“I - I mean, what if I say something wrong and end up sounding really stupid in front of her.” And the dam came crumbling down. “Your mother. The - like - the most important person in your life! I’d end up making a fool of myself in front of the most important person in your life. Then she might think ‘what’s Shoto even see in her? he could do so much better’. Which, you could, by the way. You could do worlds better but you’ve settled for me and sometimes I don’t really get it because - well - I’m me - “

“I don’t see a problem with that. I like you for you and if you are what settling is then I will gladly never settle anywhere else.”

“But what if she - “ your fingers tighten around him at the thought “- what if she doesn’t think I’m good enough for you? What if she thinks we should break up because she thinks I’m rude and annoying and uneducated?”

“Uhm. . . Y/n.”

“What if she thinks I’m a bad influence on you? I don’t want to make her hate me forever, that would be the worst feeling ever because I know she means so much to you.”

“Y/n. . .”

“That would just put so much strain on our relationship and I wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about what happened, ever. You don’t deserve that. You deserve so much better than that, Sho. I just - “

“Meu Amor.”

The name strikes a chord in your throat, catching you breathless, butterflies swooping in to replace the recoiling knot in your stomach. You whip your head around to find the corners of Todoroki’s lips pulling up in a small fond smile, eyes light with amusement. To begin with, Todoroki wasn’t big on pet names, preferring to use your given name, claiming it was sweeter than any silly nickname could be. Though throughout the seven and a half months you two had been together, he had referred to you with the occasional ‘love’ or ‘hon’. However, the number of times he had used that name could be counted on one hand.

Three. It was three times including right now.

He asked you how to say it while you were teaching him random phrases, goofing around in the middle of what was supposed to be a study session, the question being enough to make your face burn. His pronunciation had been rocky the first time, mouth working awkwardly around the words, throwing you into a fit of flustered giggles that had him pouting adorably at you, mumbling not to make fun of him for trying. But, now? Now his near perfect pronunciation left you wondering how many times he had practiced by himself. 

Meu Amor was the Portuguese phrase for My Love. His love. His love. 

“Y-Yeah?” It’s at that very moment that realize you have slipped out of your usual Japanese tongue, rolling through the tumbling hill syllables of your maternal language. “Oh, s-sorry. I. . . I did the thing again,” you mutter, flipping back to Japanese.

Todoroki huffs a short laugh that makes your heart flutter pleasantly as the sound reverberates through your own chest. “It’s okay, I think I got the gist of what you were saying. It’s cute when you do that, anyway.” He says the last part softly, meant for himself. You press your cheeks further into your scarf, hiding your own shy smile.

Todoroki takes a minute to speak, gazing at the same window you were just a moment ago, lost in thought. 

“Y/n,” he finally says. “Meu Amor, -” four times “- frankly, my mother could care less about who you are. I think you could introduce yourself as a high school drop out with a criminal record and her main concern would still be; do we make each other happy? Do you make me happy.”

You allow yourself to absorb the impact of his words.

���And. . . I make you happy?”

He shoots you an incredulous glance, then snorts when he sees you peaking earnestly above the edge of your scarf. “Irrevocably so. Do I make you happy?”

“It’s impossible for me to think about you without smiling.” You give him a bright cheeky grin when his cheeks flare with a noticeable shade of scarlet that crawls all the way up his neck to the tips of his ears.

“Good. Then that’s more than enough.” He squeezes your hand, pulling you closer into his side. “There isn’t a doubt in my mind that she won’t absolutely adore you the same way I do once she meets you. If she doesn’t already, of course.”

The statement piques your curiosity and you arch one brow at him. “What do you mean if she doesn’t already? Have you. . . Told her about me already -- In your letters to her?”

“I thought you already knew that,” Todoroki says, frowning in confusion. “She’s always asking about you and how you’re doing. I was pretty sure I mentioned it before.”

“What the heck? Shoto you’ve never told me that!”

“Oh.”

“So - So then she’s okay with us being together?”

“I think she’s more than okay with it,” he replies, his quiet smile returning. “It’s possible that she’s more excited than I am for you to meet her, which would be saying something.”

“That would have been nice to know before I rambled off the entire Portuguese dictionary to the whole train,” you grumble, rolling your eyes.

“Sorry,” he says, but it sounds like he’s trying to suppress another laugh. And you really can’t stay upset with him for long.

Rough fingertips push gently at the tips of yours to splay your palm out over his, pressing them together. Lightly you run your nails down the long runs of his fingers, memorizing every bump, scratch, and scar, sweeping your forefinger along the wrinkle of his lifeline, then across his heart line. This - the way you were touching him - may not seem like much at all to anyone else, but it was worth worlds to you. It had taken Todoroki months to comfortably hold your hand, even longer while in public, then some to kiss you for the first time. PDA wasn’t what bothered him (not entirely, at least), it was the displays of affection part. Because of the way he grew up, physical affection was a foreign concept, often leaving him lost and a mess of rigid limbs and awkward apologies. But now, he could easily seek your hand in the middle of a crowded train, or wrap his arm around you in the common room, or press a kiss to the top of your head before the start of class. To know that he had made an effort to open himself up to you, allowing you to see this side of him, the side he had only shared with his mother before, made your heart melt and your eyes swim.

Shoto was right, this was more than enough.

A calm voice announces the arrival of your stop and you two stand as passengers begin to climb off the train. 

“Still nervous?” Todoroki asks, threading his fingers through yours once more now that you have both stepped into the morning rush, not wanting to lose you amongst the chaos.

Letting him guide you through the thick crowd, you smile softly, raising your conjoined hands to press your lips to the back of his.

This would always be more than enough.

“No, I think I’ll be okay now.”

[satoruvt]

the color of you - red (4)

I AM VERY PROUD OF THIS CHAPTER AND I HOPE YOU GUYS LOVE IT AS MUCH AS I DO !!! TCOY IS BACK BABY!!

pairing → keigo takami x bakery owner!reader

word count → 3104

summary → you’re not really dating, so you can’t really be in love with him… right?

song inspo → i feel it too by the academic and a lil of fever dream by mxmtoon!

this chapter → y/n and keigo go to a hero awards ceremony, y/n feels things, keigo looks fuckin GOOD in all black.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

You are really not built for this.

Everything is so… intimidating. The hotel, the suite that Keigo put you in, the makeup artist for both of you, your dress. Oh, God, your dress is intimidating. 

When Keigo had brought up the awards ceremony coming up those weeks ago it’d seemed so far away. Back then you hadn’t even thought of all the steps you needed to take to get ready, you were still basking in the honeymoon phase of your fake relationship. And then a week and a half ago, Keigo - on his now routine stop to the bakery at closing time - had asked if you were getting ready for it. 

All the stress hit you in one go, right then, knocking you off your feet. You looked up at Keigo, horrified, and he snorted through a mouthful of a leftover cupcake from the day. 

“Oh my God, Kei, why didn’t you say anything?” You’d dropped the rag you were using to clean up, running your hands over your face. “Holy shit, this is so bad.”

“Y/N.”

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me! I’m not prepared at all! This entire thing is ruined, I don’t have any time to buy a dress or - or shoes, or makeup -”

Keigo stood up straight from where he was leaning, walking the few steps to you and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Calm down, sweetheart,” he said, and you looked up at him with furrowed brows and pouted lips. “I’ll take care of it. I figured you wouldn’t have anything done.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that last part,” you had mumbled, met only with a teasing grin.

The makeup artist Keigo hired walks into your room from the door connected to Keigo’s, and you jump out of your thoughts at her soft greeting. You breathe out one of your own, toweling your wet hair so it doesn’t drip so much, watching as she sets her things down on the only desk in the room. You sit down where she asks you to, letting her get to work.

“Nervous?” She asks you when she starts applying makeup onto your eyelids. You nod as softly as you can.

“Terrified,” you tell her, and even with just one word you don’t feel as intimidated. “I’m not used to this kind of stuff at all.”

You hear her chuckle, and open one eye when you feel the light pressure of the brush leave your eyelid. “I guess that’s what happens when you’re dating the number two hero,” she says, and you give a small laugh of your own.

She continues working and both of you offer snippets of conversation, you gradually getting more comfortable with everything that’s happening. It’s still intimidating as hell, but by the time she’s done with your makeup and hair, you feel a lot better.

“I’ll send the stylist in to help you get in your dress,” she says as she cleans up her things. You nod, distant, too busy looking at yourself in the hand mirror she’d handed you because holy shit, have you always been this hot?

The makeup artist rests a gentle hand on your shoulder and when you turn to her she sends you a quick wink with a smile. “You got this. You’ll do great.”

You feel your chest warm with her words and nod. “Thank you,” you say softly, and realize only when she’s walked out the door that you never got her name. You’ll have to ask Keigo later.

The stylist comes in not long after she’s left, bright smile on his face. “Let’s get you into your dress, yeah?”

-

So things aren’t as bad as you thought they’d be, and maybe you were overreacting a little bit.

The dress isn’t as intimidating when you have it on. It’s slimmer, not a huge gown, with a slit to your mid thigh which makes it a bit easier to walk. The neckline is something you’re not too used to - a deep V - but you suppose it could be much worse. The color is probably your favorite part, though - it’s deep red, eye-catching and mysterious, almost. You feel a sense of warmth at the knowledge that Keigo had picked the dress out himself (the stylist let it slip when he was helping you into it).

You manage to put on your shoes by yourself, and when you stand up from the bed you wobble a bit, but you tell yourself it’s fine. Most of the night is sitting down anyways, right? It shouldn’t be that bad. 

There’s a knock on door, coming from the hallway, and when the voice speaks you recognize it as Keigo’s manager. “You ready, Y/N?” she asks, and you yell back a quick yeah! before grabbing your earrings and putting them on as quick as you can. You’d already stocked your small purse with anything you might need, and you grab it on your way out the door.

The second you leave the threshold of your suite, however, it seems you moved too fast, because your heels wobble and you end up falling forward. This is it, you think to yourself, this is where I die.

Your imminent death doesn’t come, though, because instead you find yourself in someone’s arms. Their cologne is familiar and you take a moment to inhale, deep, letting the scent wash over you, but then realize that might be really weird because you don’t even know for sure who this is yet -

You look up, meeting gold eyes and a cocky smirk, and you feel both happiness (that you didn’t sniff someone random) and dread (because it’s never good when he looks at you like that) at seeing that it’s Keigo.

“Looks like you’ve fallen for me,” he says. You raise an eyebrow at him, but you can’t hide your smile.

“Oh, yes,” you humor him. “Now help me up. I’m pretty sure we have somewhere to be.”

Keigo chuckles but does as you ask, helping you push yourself back up onto your feet. You’re embarrassed at everyone staring at the two of you - everyone being Keigo’s manager and publicist, as well as a few others - but they fall back into the quick rhythm they had before. Everyone starts walking towards the elevator and you subconsciously grab onto Keigo’s arm to help stable yourself. 

You’re waiting for the elevator to come up to your floor when Keigo leans towards you. 

“I know that we’re not actually dating,” he says and he’s whispering directly into your ear and has his voice always sounded like this? “So I hope it’s okay to tell you that you look gorgeous and I feel ridiculously proud to call you my fake girlfriend.”

It takes you a second longer than usual to respond because you’re grappling with what just happened (or rather how you reacted to what just happened) but you manage to open your mouth anyways. “More than okay,” you say genuinely, looking at him, but then you realize that’s too serious. “You should feel proud. I’m hot as hell.”

Keigo snorts, then feigns offense. “What, you don’t even have a compliment to pay back to me? Nothing at all?”

“You’re looking like an eight out of ten.”

“That’s all I get?” Keigo says incredulously, putting a hand over his heart. You giggle at his antics, feeling yourself becoming more and more comfortable - it almost feels like it’s just the two of you on a date, like usual. 

“Fine. How about…” you pause for a moment, listening to the elevator ding as you think of what to say. You look him over dramatically, but then you realize that holy shit, he does look amazing. He’s in all black - even his shirt and tie - and with his wings standing out against the black, he looks gorgeous. You don’t fail to notice the sparkle on his cheekbones, and you pay extra attention to the rings decorating his fingers. This is crazy. Absolutely insane. “You are probably the most attractive man I’ve ever had the pleasure of dating.”

The words come out more breathless than you wanted them to, and you realize too late you said dating and not fake dating, but Keigo seems pleased nonetheless, so you don’t try to correct yourself. He offers you a shit-eating grin and roll your eyes, pressing hair behind your ear to distract yourself from how hot it is as you get into the elevator.

The ride down to the car is comfortable, quiet, but you feel strangely uneasy. Keigo helps you into the car and then climbs in himself, but you’re too focused on your mind to make any conversation. It’s not like you haven’t noticed that Keigo’s absolutely beautiful - before you started “dating” him you’d spent time simply looking at pictures of him. And even now you found yourself sometimes just letting your eyes trace over him; but it’d never hit you like this. It was merely acknowledgement before, knowing that yeah, he’s hot. But just then, that was… there was something. A flip in your heart, heat rushing over your entire body. 

Before you can think about it anymore, the car stops and Keigo looks over at you. “You ready?” he asks, and you take a deep breath.

“Not in the slightest,” you respond with a smile, and Keigo returns it with one of his own. The door opens and he gets out first, adjusting his suit as you slide over the seat. He helps you out of the car and immediately you’re taken aback by just how bright it is. Paparazzi with cameras, lights flooded over the area just to light up the place. 

Keigo and you start walking - your hand in his so you don’t fall over - and he leans closer to you so you can hear him over the sound of chatter and cameras clicking. “If you want we can leave at any time,” he says, and you blink at the numerous people around you. “I know you’re not used to it.”

The thought makes your heart warm, but you shake your head with a small smile. “I’ll be okay. We’re here for you, anyways, I’d hate to ruin it.”

The two of you stop in front of a banner, posing for the cameras in front of you. It’s awkward for you, but you suppose it comes with the job, so you give your best shot. Keigo takes his eyes away from the camera for a moment and you meet his eyes as he talks. 

“You matter more than some dumb-as-hell awards ceremony, and both of us know I’d rather be home, so if you ever feel like it…” 

The sentiment makes you laugh and Keigo’s hand slips from yours to go around your waist. Neither of you say anything for a while longer, posing for paparazzi as you both move down the line that seems to have formed. It’s not until an interviewer comes by that you’re really prompted to speak again. You don’t know why you’re surprised when she starts off asking about your relationship.

“So you guys have been dating for about a month and a half, right? Pretty close to when you two first met?” 

Keigo looks at you and you’re confused until you realize he’s trying to dramatize everything, and you look at him with just as much longing as he’s trying to convey to you. “Yeah,” he says, looking back to the reporter. “I just… couldn’t stay away from her, I guess.”

You laugh lightly, and the reporter gives Keigo her attention for a while before she asks you a question directly. It makes you blink, being addressed - this whole thing seems surreal.

“So, Y/N,” the reporter says, smiling at you. You pretend not to notice that it’s definitely fake. “You used to be a fan of Hawks, right?”

The answer comes so easy and quick that it scares you: “Bold of you to assume I’m not still a fan.”

The reporter laughs and you offer a shy chuckle of your own before you speak again, into the microphone she holds to your lips. “No, I just… I’m a fan of him in a new way, you know? I’m so proud of everything he does, even if his line of work is particularly… concerning. And I’m so excited to see what else is in store for him.”

You make eye contact with Keigo and he looks proud and, honestly, touched. Which he should, you think, because regardless of dating or fake dating he has gotten to be one of your best friends, and you are proud of him. You feel a hand prod at your own and when you look down he’s intertwining your fingers with his.

“That’s adorable,” the reporter says. “Well, thanks for stopping to talk! Hopefully I’ll see you guys later.”

Keigo says something along the lines of “thanks for having us” before the two of you walk away, heading for the entrance of the venue.

-

By the time you and Keigo get back to the hotel, it’s late and you are exhausted. 

You pull your hotel key out of your purse, swipe it against the lock (it doesn’t open the first time so you groan and Keigo laughs at you) and when the door opens you stumble inside and Keigo follows after you. You flop onto the bed with a loud thump and feel the weight shift as he sits on the edge of it.

“Tired?” He asks, and you remember that you have makeup on, so you sit up, brushing whatever came off of your face off of the comforter. 

“Fuck,” you say in response, sitting so you can properly take your heels off. “How do you guys do that?”

“I try not to,” Keigo says, and you whistle. Your second shoe falls to the floor and you stand to find where you put some cheap makeup wipes (the one thing you did prepare for). 

“I understand why,” you say. Your eyes fall across the package on the desk, and you open it quickly, eager to get rid of the makeup. It’s started to feel heavy on your skin. “Are you upset you didn’t win anything? You were nominated for a lot.”

You look at Keigo as you ask, running a wipe over your cheek. He’s pulled off his shoes and suit jacket, leaning against the headboard of the bed on his phone. He shrugs. “Not really.”

You’re surprised by his answer - if there’s anything you’ve learned about Keigo, it’s that he’s ambitious. You figured he would have wanted to win something. He was nominated for plenty of awards; most of them went to older heroes, though - one even to All Might, despite his retirement.

“No?” 

“No,” Keigo confirms, tossing his phone aside. “It’s not my goal as a hero to win shit. That’s not why I do what I do. I just… want more free time than I know what to do with. And I want other heroes to have the same thing.”

You hum, wiping the last of your makeup off. You throw the multiple wipes you used into the trash. “Does this have to do with the whole… I started my agency super young thing?”

“Maybe.”

You scoff, running a hand through your hair and effectively ruining its style. Your next task is to get out of your dress, and you know for a fact you’re not able to tug the zipper down yourself, so with a second of hesitation, you turn to Keigo.

“Could you, um,” you start, and he raises his eyes to you. “Could you help me with the zipper?”

Something flashes in his eyes for half a second before he nods casually, hopping off of the bed to stand behind you.

You’re in front of the mirror, and the two of you meet eyes through the mirror before you look away, holding the top of your dress to your chest so it doesn’t expose too much. You’re really not sure if he means to, but it seems like Keigo’s going really fucking slow with this, and with your still-confusing feelings and the fact that he’s wearing rings and how good his cologne smells it’s driving you straight into madness and thank God, he’s done.

“Thanks,” you say as casually as you can. “Now leave.”

Keigo looks offended. “I don’t even get to see you - my girlfriend? The love of my life? This is an outrage!”

His humor makes you almost forget - almost - about your emotions running wild, and you roll your eyes. “I know I’m absolutely irresistible, but the last time I checked, I’m the fake love of your life, and that is not qualification enough to see me naked.”

Keigo pouts - he looks like a puppy, you think to yourself - and you walk to the closet, where a bag of your things for the night is. “Go get into comfy clothes too. We’ll watch a movie, yeah?”

The idea seems good enough to Keigo, because then he’s grabbing his things and walking into his room through the connected door, leaving you to get dressed in your comfiest shorts and a t-shirt (which may or may not be one that you stole from him when you were over at his place that one time you guys hung out).

Keigo comes back a few minutes after you’ve changed - he gives you a pointed look after definitely noticing your shirt, to which you smile innocently - and jumps on the bed next to you. It takes the two of you a while to find a movie to watch, mostly because you suggest one thing and Keigo hates it, and when he suggests another you decide you’re not in the mood for it. You end up deciding on a horribly cheesy horror movie that Keigo manages to be okay with.

Twenty minutes into the movie and both you and Keigo decide that food sounds like the best decision and one glance at the room service menu tells you that nothing at the hotel will be anything close to satisfactory, and one of your favorite places to eat crosses your mind.

“Pizza?” you pitch to Keigo, and his eyes shine like you just confessed your undying love to him. With a gentle giggle you call for delivery, and in another fifteen minutes you’re stuffing the best pizza you’ve ever had into your mouth. The movie’s still playing, but neither you nor Keigo pay it any mind, instead more focused on eating and getting caught up in conversation.

The night ends so well and so comfortably that you don’t even remember falling asleep.

[jay-and-dean]

Become That Girl  Part 1/2

Dean x reader

Summary : Y/n never was his type. She is the buddy type ; sexy and glamorous are just not her. It’s time to try to change that... To change everything about herself. And maybe, just maybe, this flirty smile will be for her next time...

Warning : Swearing. Suffering and mentions of unhealthy behaviors. Smut. Unprotected sex (you’re smarter than this). Kinda rough sex. ANGST.

Words : 7.7 k

Author note : This was supposed to be a one shot, but there will be a part 2. I will publish it this week (tuesday I hope).

***Want to read more ? => MASTERLIST***

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            Dean's hand brushes that girl's palm and those adorable wrinkles appear on his eyes for her, he gives her these sweet eyes I saw only in these circumstances; his head slightly bending on the side. His flirty smile.

"It's ridiculous" I grunt, taking a sip of my beer.

"Yeah" Sam chuckles.

But I struggle to swallow. The truth is I would give my life, my soul and everything else for Dean Winchester looking at me like this just once. For him to touch my hand that way. For whatever is to come with that girl. The idea of him sinking inside her is like a stab in my chest, but I'm used to that pain.

           I know I will never taste his lips, because I'm not that girl, not even close.

           I'm the kind of girl guys love because they can be themselves with her, I'm the buddy type. And along the way, I became Dean Winchester's friend. He gives me drinks and teases me all the time on my tastes in music, on my tastes in food, in men... If only he knew.

           It was quick for me to fall in love with him. I have never been in love before, not for real ; so I didn't really know what was happening to me at first. I never was the kind of girl that forces to laugh at men's joke, that wear pink or try to look like society wants women to be. I never faked a smile, but Dean, he makes me giggle like an idiot, and everything he says actually interests me. I'm fascinated by him.

           He's beautiful, but that's not even what I like the most about him. It's like I just could read him, his soul, the way he hides pain, the way his humor is way darker than people think, that incredible ability he has to be himself, that fake harshness and the size of his noble heart...

           He bends to catch the girl's lips and I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back the whine of pain coming up my spine.

           My stomach contracts at how empty I feel and I look down at my hands. That void I feel each time I come to the full conscience that I will never feel him on and inside me, it hurts way too much. It’s beyond craving, it’s like a part of me was missing.

"Are you okay ?" Sam asks, probably reading the sorrow on my face.

"Of course" I state. "I'm just tired, that hunt was a bitch."

           I want to drink too much, drown my stupid brain in fucking alcohol. The puking and hangover are way better than being able to imagine him with her, his hands on her hair, his tongue around her nipples...

           I get up and go to the bar, avoiding to get too close to Dean and her, I don't need to know her smell or voice, my brain would turn it into torture.

"Whiskey please, leave the bottle" I tell the bartender.

He doesn't look at me when he hands me the bottle, not even checking my age or my eyes. He is looking at Dean's conquest and that desire, almost envy, on his face catches my attention despite my will not to look at her.

           Taking the bottle, I glance at that woman everyone seems to admire. Dean's back is toward me so I can see half her face, behind his silhouette. She's pretty. A wide smile on her face, bright eyes, sulky hair and makeup ; she doesn't have scars, or bruises like me and her only wrinkles are just highlighting her smile, like she had never worried or frown.

           I pour whisky in my own glass and empty it, then do it again. I go back to my table to join Sam, my empty glass in one hand and the bottle in the other, it didn't even pay, but when the bartender will be back on Earth, maybe he'll ask me. Meanwhile, fuck him.

"I'm not holding your hair tonight Y/n" Sam sighs.

"Yeah... don't worry Sammy" I shrug.

 ***

           "Oh... fuck…" I grunt opening my eyes. "Oh ! Fuck !" I gasp before I run to the toilets to empty my stomach in the bowl.

Sam pushes the door and rubs his eyes.

"Y/n ?"

"Shut up..." I whine, pushing my hair out of my sweaty face.

I flush the toilets and get up stumbling, I start undressing, knowing Sammy will just not watch, and he turns his back on me to pee. When I enter the shower, I grunt at the warm water.

"Coffee ?" he asks.

"Yes please, with aspirin in it... What is that ?" I look at my very sore hand and see it's all purple and blue. "Sammy why is my hand all bruised ?"

He chuckles and when he washes his hands the water of the shower suddenly becomes cold for a minute.

"A guy called you babydoll and touched your ass" I hear the smile in his voice. "You broke his face before I could move."

Shit... I bet if someone had done that to Dean's pretty girl, she would have needed a prince in shining armor. Me, I just break faces. I grunt and put my head on the tiles, I'm just not a lady, maybe that's why Dean doesn't want me, even for a quick fuck...

           I'm in my jeans and bra when Sam comes back with coffee. He gives it to me and hands me aspirin. He slept in my motel room, that means Dean brought his girl in theirs. I frown and grunt, my eyes still barely open. Sam offers me an amused dimple smile.

"When you're around, it's like having another Dean" he mocks.

My heart breaks.

           I know it was not meant to be mean and being anything like Dean can only be a good think but... Am I really so far from being a girly girl ?

           I get up and take my clothes, my too long and worn out Led Zeppelin t-shirt and black rangers. I sigh. Yeah well maybe I don't dress like a princess too... Fuck !

           The door opens and Dean enters the room with cups of coffee in his hands. Each time that man comes near, something happens, like the colors were brighter, like my blood was warmer… He turns to me and raises his eyebrows, probably seeing what a mess I am, my wet hair all messy, the cuts and bruises on my arms, face and hands.

"You look like shit" he says and a new kind of stab hits my gut. "What did you do last night ? Did you see someone ?"

"Haha ! She met a guy !" Sam mocks and I grunt.

"Really ?" Dean frowns like it was beyond surprising.

"She may have broken his jaw" Sam chuckles and Dean comes closer.

"Did you fight again ?" he sighs, taking my hand to check on it.

He still smells like this girl’s perfume and I'm nauseous. I take my fingers back and show him I can move them fine with an annoyed look. Then I take the coffee of his hand and thank him.

"Hey !" he calls me when I'm about to take my bag to leave.

So I turn around and put a light kiss on his cheek like I do every morning, making him smile like a child. I stare for a little too long at his proud face and walk pass him.

           In the car I take my shoes off to put my feet on the backseat, Dean is mumbling the Metallica song, his beautiful strong fingers dancing on the rhythm against the wheel. And before I can look away, I have this vision of him sinking this amazing middle finger inside her core.

Shit... I'm nauseous again.

I guess in this world of blood and violence, coming deep inside a soft sweet angel-like princess must be a relief. I can’t enjoy one night stands anymore, but he can, good for him. It's not his fault if sex makes me feel dirty since I know him, like I was cheating...

           Stupid.

I just wish it would happen to me once... Having him. I know how dumb this sounds because I'd probably be dead with grief once he turns to a better girl again, but I would give anything to spend a night with him. I have to stop dreaming, he doesn't even see me as a woman.

           I frown and put my head back on the window.

"Hey Y/n ?" he says, looking at me in the rear-view mirror. "Now the hunt is over, we finally have a little time together. We could do our horror movies marathon ? I can't wait to see your face when we wa..."

"You're the one hiding against me Winchester" I state with my usual a mocking grin.

It's not even a lie and he rolls his eyes, glancing at Sam who's still listening to some conference in his headphone.

"I just can't wait to eat all those candies we hid in your room, without Sam lecturing us" he smiles with his teeth showing and my heart melts.

           What if I tried...

What if I tried to be the kind of girls he likes ? I mean, I'm nothing special but with a little efforts I could at least become a girl in his eyes... Would he still be able to just stuff his mouth with sugar when he's so close to me in my bed, if he saw me as a real lady ?

           I look down at myself and sigh. I will have to change absolutely everything... But maybe this could work.

 ***

           It's only been a few hours since we got back, Dean went to take a shower and Sam went running, which doesn’t make fucking sense after a hunt so rough.

Taking a huge bite of that big double chocolate brownie, I stare at my laptop, watching stupid videos of makeover, style, makeup and how to do your hair ; and if I wasn't thinking of if Dean would like this thing or not... I would probably have died of boredom already.

           I should try to work on my attitude too. Swear less, sit straighter, be less loud, spontaneous, stop saying when I need to pee, drink less and try those stupid sweet cocktails when I do, let men defend me. I don't get to skip wax day anymore, I have to look sexy or eventually childishly cute, but not at all like I do right now. Boy !Being a “girl” is no fun at all.

           I look at the Pinterest and Instagram pictures of those pretty girls and put my brownie down watching my belly, a diet wouldn't hurt either.

           A knock on my door, Dean enters with a cute smile, his hair still wet. I close my laptop and throw the brownie in the trash, sitting straighter already, I pull my stomach slightly in.

"I bought beer" he says and sits on my bed, opening one for me but I shake my head. "Still too hangover ?" he asks and I nod.

           During the whole movie, I try to watch my attitude, not spreading my legs to put bowls of candies between them, not making fun of him when he jumps. And when he falls asleep beside me, I just stare at him thinking of how many things I would sacrifice for him. I dare touching his hair and leans to my touch, coming closer in his sleep. I want more.

I need more.

 ***

           I barely slept tonight, half stressed, half exited by my project.

As usual, Dean left in the middle of the night, kissing my forehead to say goodnight. I get up, eat fruits and shit instead of cereals and go running, drinking water, more water than what I usually drink in a week. I read coffee makes teeth become yellow and gives shadows under the eyes, so I will stop it too.

When I take my car to go fucking shopping -I always hated shopping-, I try my best to smile, looking on the mirrors of the car. Sweet and open Y/n...

           I manage to hold back my middle finger when a jerk takes the parking lot I wanted. I'm hungry but my body needs to learn to shut up. If I want Dean Winchester to consider kissing me, I have to be perfect. There is no compromise.

I try clothes and I feel like I'm wearing a costume, with those bruises and all, it's stupid anyway. So I decide to go one step at a time. I'll wear normal size shirts instead of oversized and a nice jacket first, I'm not ready for dresses or too colorful for now.

           I buy lace panties and push up bras then decide to throw away my other underwear to make sure I wear them, because they're so uncomfortable I will be tempted to go back... I keep drinking water when I buy makeup and nail polish, trying my best to both pull my stomach in and ignore the heavy perfume smell and the employees trying to sell me way too many things. I need girly shampoo and all, because I usually just use Dean's.

           Then I lock myself in my room for hours, fighting with my body, waxing with incredible care, putting sticky things on my hair to make them shiny, cream on my skin to make it soft, mascara to make my eyes bigger… I even pierce my own ears.

           But the more I try, the more I feel ugly. I always tied my hair in buns-easier to fight, run and look like an FBI agent- but now it’s down, and I look at these models,it seems dull… Same for every inch of my body. Why do girls do that to themselves ! Or maybe I’m the one that is a problem, maybe I’m just disgusting and avoided to see it for years. No wonder why Dean never looked at me.

           I stare at myself and sigh. Fuck. Even doing all that, there is about zero chance Dean would ever want me one day, even just for a night. It’s going to hurt way more than hunger and wax, but I have to go further, I have to pay attention when he’s with a woman…

 ***

             “MOTHERFUCKING BITCH !” I yell throwing the stupid scale against the wall.

It’s been three months and I haven’t lost a pound. I’m hungry all the time, from morning to the next morning, it’s even waking me at night. I only eat salad and drink water… I mean, my hands are shaking for Christ sake !

           Three months of trying so hard to act like a sweet fragile angel with a weakness for sin : cute and sexy. But I’m still swearing like a sailor when I don’t pay attention and I’m still fat. Hunts are becoming more difficult because I’m weak, and fun times with my friends are more rare, because they only do what I can’t : drink beers, eat burgers, make fun of horror movies, play whiskey poker… I used to love whiskey poker so much ; the night Dean invented it, we were beyond drunk but it was one of my best memories, he ended cutting my hair and it was bad, but I didn’t care at all.

“Are you okay ?” Sam says, opening the door but I close it brutally.

“Sam ! I’m a girl you know ! You and your brother can’t just enter the bathroom when I’m in it !” I yell through the door, hurt that they keep treating me as if I was the third Winchester brother, and worried they would see my ugly fat body...

“Sorry Y/n, I didn’t know you were naked” he states.

“Naked or not, Sam !”

“What’s the problem ?” I hear Dean ask his brother, and put my head on the door.

“She’s just grumpy again…” Sam sighs and I frown.

I do argue with them more often… I didn’t noticed that.

“Sweetheart ?” Dean calls though the door and tries to push it.

“Are you serious !” I cry out pushing the door. “Stop forgetting I’m a girl, you don’t get free access on the bathroom when I’m in it !”

“Okay” Dean just says and he leaves.

           I never forbid them to enter, and I have great memories of watching Dean brushing his teeth while I dried my hair, of his intimacy only hidden by a white towel around his waist while I joined him in the hot steam his shower made to talk about anything.

           My Dean and I used to be awesome… But in a buddy way. I feel tears fill my eyes but try to hold them back because I really don’t want to do my makeup again. I caught him staring at my cleavage yesterday, and he said lipstick suited me last week. I have to be strong, if Dean gives me that flirty eyes, I would be worth it.

           But we don’t talk that much either and… I really miss him in every way, I miss my friend and I feel lost and lonely. The sadness these thoughts bring, mixed with the exhaustion of hunger, and the pain of that unrequited love finally makes me fully burst in tears. My hand on my mouth I muffle the sounds of my sobs, realizing I will never have him, and probably fucked up the only good thing I had : That pure and loving friendship with the Winchesters.

 ***

             I take a bite of my salad and hold back a gag. Not that I don’t like salad, but eating only that is becoming really sickening. Dean looks at me and there is no kind expression on his face, that tender smile I used to see everyday faded along the weeks.

“Take a bite” he says, handing me his burger, cheese dripping on his fingers.

“What ? No…” I shrug. “I’m not super hungry.”

I’m not an idiot, at least not completely : I knew my best friends would notice a change in my behavior. I mean, Dean seeing a change is the all point, but I don’t want to look like I’m trying so hard. So lately I’ve been putting empty pizza boxes on the table from time to time. And my outfits were replaced slowly…

           But they’re not idiots either.

“I just want to check something” he says.

I can’t, after all these efforts, if I bite in that thing, I will become even fatter than I am, I can’t afford that…

“I don’t want to, Dean.”

“I made it myself” he insists, practically putting the food on my lips and the smell is becoming too tempting.

“Dean ! No ! I’m sure it’s delicious because your homemade burgers are always a success but it’s a no !” I push him wiping the ketchup that fell on my shirt. “What is wrong with you…”

“What is wrong with me !” his harsh tone surprises me. “I’m super worried, that’s what is wrong ! Do you have eating disorder now or something ?”

“What ? No ! Of course not, you know me !”

“Yeah… Do I ?” he asks before getting up, leaving his plate barely touched in front of me.

“Dean ?” I call but too low, he can’t hear me…

 ***

           I didn’t come out of my room. Not once, since Dean looked at me that way, a sad way, like I had betrayed him or something, just because of a burger…

           Who am I kidding ? It’s not because of a burger, my best friend just doesn’t recognize me. I can’t be that girl, I’m just not enough. Curling in my bed, I take a deep shaky breath, I’m really tired of crying so I just stare at the wall, thinking about what Dean must think of me. He must be disappointed, and that’s the worst I can imagine. Dean, my Dean, thinking low of me, annoyed or hurt because of me.

           A knock on the door. I lift my eyes to the red numbers in the dark : 10:18 pm. Usually, when one of the brothers knock on my door, they start talking to me through it and if I don’t yell that I’m naked, they just enter. Not this time. The knock is discreet and followed by a heavy silence.

           Surprised by that unusual quiet, I get up, arranging the top I was wearing because it went up my stomach. I open the door and my pupils grow, I can almost feel it, seeing Dean’s beautiful eyes in the lights of the corridor.

“Y/n…” he says with his deep voice, his right hand on his pocket. “I’m sorry I was a drag earlier. You need space from us, I get it… Living with guys…” his tone is a little sad but very kind, I don’t know what to say. “Just, don’t change who you are, please. You can eat what you want and wear what you want sweetheart, okay ?”

“I do” I nod to close the subject and ease that worrying on his handsome face.

He bends and slowly crushes the plumb of his lips on my forehead like he always does when he’s worried about me, after hunts, before hunts… when I’m sick or tired or anything. I close my eyes, trying to enjoy this without ruining it with the pain of that stupid unrequited love.

“I just miss my friend” he says low. “I promise I won’t bother you more and knock and all, but could we spend a night together at the bar ? With Sammy ? Like we used too ? I miss that.”

The look on his face is like his brother’s puppy eyes and I feel both relieved and terrified. I miss him like crazy and just want to say yes and follow him running ; but if he leaves with a girl… It might kill me this time.

“Yeah… Okay” I sigh. If he gets with a woman, I’ll just try to observe her. “Can I just have a little time to get ready ?”

“Of course sweetheart” he nods, letting go of me. “Take your time.”

           After a few minutes trying to recover from Dean being so adorable, I finally managed to go to the bathroom. Tonight I will really try to look like one of Dean’s conquest, so I stare at it : the only dress I own.

           I bought it after I saw Dean glance at a girl in the street during the last hunt. It is the kind of dress I thought I'd never wear, I actually never even thought of wearing one in my life. The dress the girl wore was a little too sexy according to me, even slutty. Women should dress like they want to, but I wasn't ready for that super short red bustier dress, with boobs everywhere calling for attention.

           Yet, I have to become that girl, that's the whole point. If Dean likes his women bundled up in skinny dresses, so be it.

           I sight, looking at the girdle I have to wear to put that dress on, I empty my lungs and compress my stomach the more I can. Taking the dress, I hesitate, maybe this is too much.... But this is the prize to pay if I want any chance that Dean would look at me ; tonight I'm going to be that girl.

           The dress is simple but very sexy. Black taut fabric hugging me tight, with a cleavage like a bra, and straight straps, useless because the dress is so tight it holds me. I look at myself in the mirror and sigh, I'm not enough.

           I put makeup, just mascara and lipstick, and right now I have trouble thinking I don't look like a whore, but I try to remember those girls Dean likes wear more makeup and even sexier closes, so...

           A knock.

"Y/n ?" Sam says. "If you don't get out of this bathroom, Dean will be drunk before we reach the bar.

           Shit, the short dress is so tight that my panties are showing.

"Yeah, go to the car, I'm ready !" I state through the door, taking off my panties.

I have no underwear that would be good with this dress... It is short, but not too much, and it's tight, so no one will see anything when I sit. I look at myself in the mirror and decide I just won't wear panties. I take my black leather jacket and leave the bathroom trying to hide I'm shaking.

 ***

           When I enter the garage, Sam and Dean are sitting on the edge of Baby, with Led Zeppelin playing. The girdle is hurting me but I stay straight, trying to look casual.

           The two men's eyes widen and I have no idea how I am supposed to understand their look but I try not to think of it. I give them a shy smile, like I was begging them not to judge. I was waiting for a comment or anything, but they just stay totally silent.

           In the car I don't know how to sit, I always put my feet on the seat but there is no way I can do that now, so I just stay there, held upright by this awful prison compressing my ribs and stomach.

           Dean checks on me on the rear-view mirror, his face totally neutral, like he was hiding whatever he is thinking... A few months ago, I would have made fun of him, I would have asked him what was wrong with me, I would have told him to look at the road -I always did that when I caught him staring at me in the mirror-, but now, I just look down.

           Being sexy is also feeling sexy, the woman on the video said. I'm not really the kind of woman that feels sexy, but I could try. The problem is, each time I try to focus on sexy things to make this work, I end up thinking of Dean, of when his beautiful hands land on me, of his smell and his shoulders, of his mouth... And in the end, I'm felling more horny than sexy. I guess not wearing panties is kind of sexy...

 ***

           The bar is not too crowded but loud, the sound of pool balls shocking on each others, and the manly laughs of men drinking alcohol. Tugging at my dress, I look around to see if any girl could catch Dean's attention : maybe that girl at the bar, but she seems to be with a man. People are looking at me, I'm not used to it, I feel like my lack of underwear is written on my face.

           When he passes behind me, Dean puts a hand on my back, sending a shiver all along my spine. He always does that, but I'm usually wearing real clothes.

"What do you want to drink sweetheart ?" he says and I hesitate.

Alcohol is caloric, I can't really afford to drink it. After a long hesitation, I decide a whiskey would make me forget all those eyes on me.

           Taking the first sip of the amber liquid, I close my eyes. This taste reminds me of some good memories when Dean and I stayed in the kitchen to talk, slowly sipping and smiling at each other.

"Pool ?" Sam asks pointing the other side of the bar with his beer bottle.

"Yeah I don't know" Dean looks down, making me wonder... He always loved pool.

"Come on Dean !" I smile raising up, the evening is supposed to be about saving my friendship with him.

He frowns like something was hurting him, his beautiful mouth forming a pout, his dark green eyes searching my face. I can't read him. He doesn't look at me like he always did, but not like he looks at those girls either. My smile fades and the air becomes thick.

           He gets up slowly and brushes past me when he walks to the pool.

"Okay, but you stay with me" he grunts.

I follow him and notice eyes are moving with me. I know what's happening : I must be embarrassing him, that’s why he acts weird. I swallow hard and watch him take cues, the muscles of his jaw are clenched.

"So Y/n... This dress..." Sam whispers close to my ear. "Is it just to make Dean mad or is there a guy you want to go home with ?"

My heart stops.

"Dean ?" I just say searching his eyes, but he laughs. "Why..."

I can't finish my sentence because Dean gets close to me to give me the cue he prepared. His handsome face still pretty stern, he offers me to start.

           The air is still thick and Sam's words turn in my head, bouncing in every directions, banging in my head like a lost bat. What does that even mean ? Dean must be disappointed in me, maybe little a big brother wouldn't want to see his sister wear a slutty dress... Maybe what he meant was that, as Dean wanted a friendship night, dressing like I'm waiting to leave them for a one-night stand is annoying. I don’t know who I am anymore, or how I am supposed to behave.

"Y/n..." Dean calls me from the other side of the pool. "You never lose at this game, even against me... Are you okay ?"

"Yes I..."

Pretty girls don't win against the man they want, they make them feel strong and all those bullshit that polluted my brain. I'm distracted and I have no idea what to think again. Right now, I just dream of becoming the old me again, slap his ass when I win just to mock him, make him pout, drink like him, swear and get rid of that awful pain on my ribs.

"I just need another drink" I finally chose to answer. "Whiskey ?"

He nods in a frown and I leave toward the bar.

           When I order a drink, this time, the bartender looks at me, and even if it's not the same place and the same man, I can't help but think it has something to do with how I look tonight.

"There sweetheart" he smiles and I shiver at the nickname I only heard from Dean's mouth. "Tell me... Those guys ?" he points his chin to Sam and Dean.

"What ?" I glower, completely forgetting the have-a-flirty-smile-all-the-fucking-time rule.

"You know… are you with one of them ?" he says with an actually kind corner smile.

"No" I state and his grin spread to his whole mouth.

He is cute, dimples on his soft face, dark caramel-colored skin, warm black eyes highlighted by thick black curled lashes. And the softness on his features finally make me give him back a smile.

"Good because I couldn't fight any of them" he chuckles with a hint of shyness.

I chortle lightly at how right he is without knowing it. I search his face; he seems sincere and kind, there is something calming about him, no violence, no pretention.

"Hi" a man appears behind me. "Can I buy you a drink ?"

I turn to him, confused, and see in the corner of my eyes that the bartender is looking down.

"No" I smile. "Thank you but I already have a drink."

The man sighs and leaves, muttering something that I probably would hate to hear ; and a few months ago I would have made him repeat.

"Daryll" the bartender says.

"Y/n" I state.

"Let me offer you this drink..." his charming dimples appear again. "It's rare enough to see a beautiful young woman ordering whiskey.”

For the first time in a very long time, I could actually picture myself spending a night with that guy and just this feeling is already amazing : It’s like I was free, my heart belongs to Dean but, if he doesn’t want me, maybe I could at least lend my body to a kind man. I look down at my glass and forget that he hits on me just because of the dress for an instant. Daryll is really cute and smiling to him is not an effort.

"Are they your brothers or something ?" he asks, putting his arms crossed on the counter.

"No..." I turn and catch Dean's eyes but look down. "Friends."

"Oh..." he says with a pained look. "One of them is an ex or a crush ?"

I give him a sad smile, not knowing what to answer.

"Okay... Maybe you want me to leave you alone" he sighs but I shake my head, taking a sip of alcohol to swallow the lump in my throat.

“No” I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s not new… Don’t worry.”

But his eyes leave mine to look behind me with a strange expression, something weirdly close to submission.

"Y/n" Dean's voice calls me from behind and I freeze. "Can I just... Talk to you ?"

I take a deep painful breath and turn slowly to see him, his sweltering charisma emanating of him, and just like that, my calming feeling of being able to see myself kiss -or more- Daryll fades. Dean eclipsing the entire world.

"Talk ?" I raise my eyebrows.

He just nods so I glance at the cute bartender.

"I... I'll be back" I say with no joy and he gives me a polite but disappointed smile.

           Dean starts to walk and I follow, looking at his shoulders, afraid of the discussion coming. He doesn't stop anywhere in the bar and leads me outside. It’s still warm ; I look up to see the stars shining behind the feeble lamppost light.

“Y/n” he turns around to face me, his bow legs lightly spread like he needed to be hitched to the floor. “What is that ?”

I can’t read his body language.

“What is what ?” I mutter, ready for reproaches.

“You know every man here is trying to find a plan to bring you home…” he grunts.

“Well each time you go somewhere, it’s the same…”

He crosses he arms looking up while he takes a deep inhale. An overwhelming urge to cry strangles me and I decide to leave, opening my purse, I start looking at my phone to call a cab and walk toward the side of the bar.

           Dean grabs my arm firmly.

“Where are you going ?” he asks, still pretty stern.

“I just want to go home, De…”

But I can’t finish my sentence because he pushes me against the wall, both hands making sure my shoulder touches the concrete. And before I can register any of what’s happening, his lips meet mine.

           Taking a deep inhale by his nose, he crushes those plumb lips made of dream on mine and my body reacts in a thousand ways. Pure electricity roam my skin and muscles, my heart seems to grow twice his size and his beatings fasten so hard my own blood is making me high ; every erogenous part of my body takes fire and a hot slick drips between my thighs instantly.

           I don’t move but Dean cups my face and kisses my mouth again, gently taking my upper lip between his. Parting my lips slightly, I feel his tongue graze me. I close my eyes and let him kiss me, he bends his head on the side a little and invades my mouth like he could only breathe through me.

           I could stay like this my whole life, completely lost in the perfect feeling of his face so close, in the taste of him… But he’s eager and his hands leave my cheeks to rub my shoulders and down my arms. I didn’t know my body could feel so intensely…

           A moan escapes me and his lips leave my mouth suddenly, letting it wet and swollen, open and burning. His nose grazes my ear, sending shivers run all over me, and he starts leaving open mouth kisses along my throat.

           By the time his hands reach my waist, I’m shaking. His fingers are like conquerors, winning every battle, pushing boundaries. They go down my ass and squeeze it strongly, crushing me to his own waist.

This is happening.

           My inner walls clench at this thought and my head falls back, only held by the concrete. He goes lower, catching the hem of my dress, slowly pulling it up, his nails scratching the back of my thighs. Another moan.

           When my dress is just under my intimacy, he harshly grabs my legs and carries me easily, encouraging me to wrap them around his waist. I do.

           He doesn’t take us far, just turning on the side of the bar, where the light of the lamppost doesn’t go, pushing me against the wall, his hips eagerly crushing his erection against me. His lips claim me again and, when they do, my body finally allows me to move.

           I grab his neck and scratch the back of his head, rolling my hips against him. That craving I endure since I know him finally about to be satisfied. He groans in my mouth.

“Fuck…” he bites my lip, his hips joining the movement of mine, and through the rough fabric of my dress and his jean, his hard length press on my sensible clit.

“Anh!” I cry out, clinging to him. “Oh… God” I inhale, the girdle blocking my lungs in a pain my brain just registers as pleasure, because each of my cell is illuminated with it for now.

“Y/n…” he whines, his teeth teasing my pulse point.

           My hands dare going lower, slipping inside his collar to feel the intoxicating move of his upper back muscles. The circle movements of my hips makes my dress slip higher and when my folds come into contact directly with his crotch, sweat breaks through my skin.

“Oh fuck…” I moan, my hips starting to shake.

His hands grab my ass to rub me more against him and I can notice his fingers searching my panties.

“No panties Y/n…” he states in a growl, bending to bite the part of my boobs accessible on my cleavage. “You’re soaking my jeans sweetheart.”

I nod and tug at his hair to dig my tongue between his perfect lips again. His hand falls between us and scrape my inner thigh, at the closeness of his fingers, my walls clench again, like it was trying to catch him. His fingers finally reach my folds and slip between.

“Dean !” I cry out. “Dean… Dean… God… Dean !”

My legs are spread wide to cling to him, so when his thumb find my clit, his middle finger encounter no trouble to reach my entrance, caressing it and pushing on it.

“Pleeease…” escapes my lips in a wail and he smiles in the kiss.

           Torturing me, his finger keeps pushing on my entrance without really entering me and I have never felt so empty. I’m pathetically trying to come closer, but that’s impossible.

           The tip of his middle finger finally pushes inside me and my pussy flutters. His free hand come up to grab my hair, I gasp but he doesn’t hurt me, he just tugs firmly but slowly at it to have access to my throat. He sucks a hickey on the side of it, and I let him mark me like I was his. I am, really.

           His strong finger enters me in one go, making me choke in ecstasy. He doesn’t wait and slips another, grunting when he pushes deep.

           I have dreamed of Dean since forever, I have pushed my own fingers inside of me thinking of him… But nothing could have prepared me for this. I’m soaking his hand, nothing ever made me that wet ; and when he crushes his hips on me in a low moan, making his digits go deeper, I can’t help but come.

           I’m silent, my lungs crushed by their prison, my blood burning in my head and cleavage. Gasping for air, I feel my walls crush him and electricity shocks my whole body.

           A deep growl vibrates inside him. He takes his hand off of me a little too fast and I hiss. His trembling hand attacks his belt but it's too slippery so he changes hand, putting the wet one on the wall behind me, and the other between us to free is aching cock.

           When he pushes his clothes down a bit, I can’t help but look down, biting my lips. Here it is, what I crave inside of me all the time, precum nonchalantly dripping of it, red and swollen. Beautiful.

“Dean… Take me” I plead.

“Yes” he groans. “Yes…” he repeats for himself.

           He lines his length with my entrance and I can’t help but moan and pant, still looking down to see his length disappear slowly inside me. When he pushes in, it’s harsh and faster than I had anticipated. A sharp pained pleasure makes me cry out loud.

           The hand on the wall finds my mouth and crushes on it to silence me. In the deep inhale I take through my nose, I can smell myself.

           He’s big. For a second my heart panics, like I couldn’t take him, but my walls flutter and while he doesn’t move, I have time to adjust to him.

“Are you okay ?” he pants in my ear, tickling me with his breath.

I nod despite his strong hand holding my face.

           He doesn’t wait longer, withdrawing almost completely before he powerfully pushes in again, making my eyes roll in my skull. A loud scream is muffled by his large palm taking half my face.

“Fuck… Y/n… How can you be so…” but he doesn’t finish his sentence.

Grunting like a wild beast, he starts thrusting in me like he had waited for it as much as me. His powerful body carrying me like I weighted nothing. My ribs hurt but I don’t care at all because it can almost feel his cock between them. It’s like he was everywhere.

I love you, I think loud. Just because I’m used to say that when I think of him.

“Y/n…” he moans, and the hand on my face becomes so strong I think it could bruise my jaw.

I can feel his own pleasure, the sweat on his forehead, the shakes on his chest, the pleas in his groans, and the throbs of his cock deep inside of me. I grab his ass, slipping my hand inside his jeans to dig my nails in it, encouraging him to take me harder, even if I don’t know if I can take harder, simply because I never had it.

           When his thrusts turn to hard beats of his hips, I scream in his hand and my toes curl in my shoes.

“Fuck ! F-Fuck ! Fff…” his voice is intoxicating.

Fireworks explode everywhere in my body and I’m quite sure this is an orgasm until the real thing strikes like a lightning.

           My stomach contracts like I had a cramp and my thighs squeeze him stronger than I thought possible, my walls milk him and my head is spinning. I have never felt a pleasure so intense and tears soak my face.

“Oh G-G-GOD !” he cries out like he hadn’t anticipated the intensity of my orgasm at all.

           He stills deep inside of me and empties himself in a wail, grabbing my jaw brutally and clumsily to crush his lips on mine. His hips start to thrust lazily after he had stilled totally and his behavior changes. He wipes my tears, gently kisses my cheeks and rubs my neck like he was trying to erase the marks his body roughly let on me.

           My brain starts to register what’s happening and I look at him, amazed by his beauty and the feeling of him. I didn’t think it would be possible to love him more…

But, when I can’t help but smile to him, the look on his face hits me like a hundred punches in the guts.

He already fucking regrets.

No flirty smile. Not even a kiss.

Regret.

What was I thinking ?

           After Heaven, it’s like I was thrown in Hell. I push on his lower stomach to make him withdraw, and he does, my feet reach the floor again. Not looking at me, he puts his now soft cock back in his pants, closing his belt in a disapproving shake of his head.

           I bite the inside of my cheek so hard I can taste blood in my mouth. The world is spinning. His cum is dripping out of me, along my thighs and I look down to see it. Grabbing my purse on the floor, I take a tissue from it and wipe my thighs, an intense feeling of shame making me nauseous.

           He watches me struggle with it and offers me to take the tissue to throw it away with a movement of his hand. I’m so stupidly in love with him, I have the paranoid feeling he just wants to take that back from me… I give him the tissue and he wipes his thumb when cum reaches his skin.

“Are you okay ?” he asks, like I could be.

I nod looking down, tugging at my dress to hide this body I now definitely hate.

“I didn’t hurt you sweetheart ?” he insists.

“No Dean…” I find my voice.

“Good” he states with that serious low voice of him.

“I want to go home” I say faking a casual tone.

“Sure” he nods. “Let me get Sam and your jacket…”

He gets closer and puts one of those usual friendly kisses on my temple.

I did it. I made Dean want me. But this victory just really doesn’t feel like one…

(To be continued...)

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[sukifans]

PET • RI • CHOR

[n] pleasant smell that accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

ZUKO X OC SERIES

SUMMARY: a captured waterbender and the fire prince may sound like an unlikely pair, but kena never much cared about others’ expectations and zuko, well… he was just along for the ride

⏎ MASTERLIST // PROLOGUE ii « PART I » PART II

“Hey, guys! Sorry we’re late,” Kena huffed, throwing herself into a seat. “Did you order already?”

“You’re always late, Sola. We expect it now.” Mona rolled her eyes teasingly.

“We got a pot of oolong,” said Kyali.

“I love oolong!” Jin clapped, sitting down.

Kena wrinkled her nose at the mere suggestion of oolong. “Ew, you know I hate oolong. Why did you do that?”

“Um, maybe because Jin was absolutely right about the cute waiter here being your type and you should definitely flirt with him when you order something else?” Oma said like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Yeah, Sola. Ask him what his favorite is and then ask him to help you finish since it’s just you drinking it.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kena snorted. “Why do I need to order a whole new pot just to flirt with this guy?”

“Because you wouldn’t do it on your own, just like the guy at the noodle cart.”

“Ugh, he’s weird.”

“He’s hot!”

“He smells like broth, like, all the time!”

“I mean, she has a point.”

“Look, that’s him!” Mona elbowed Kena roughly and she winced, rubbing her arm.

“Ow, Mona!”

“Hush! He’s coming this way!”

Kena looked up as the other girls tittered to see what was indeed a very cute waiter walking towards them holding a tray with a teapot and several cups. He had scruffy-looking black hair, light amber eyes, and a large scar across the left half of his face. Kena couldn’t shake the feeling that she knew him and it almost made her uneasy. Maybe he was from one of the villages she and her mother had visited and was here as a refugee, or maybe she’d just seen him around the city before.

“Here’s your oolong,” he said, sliding the tray onto the table. Kena noted he had a nice voice, which was always a bonus. It was somehow pleasingly rough and low while also smooth as the finest silk.

She almost got away with not saying anything until Jin piped up. “Sorry, our friend Sola here has a question for you!” She elbowed Kena from the other side and Kena kicked her under the table. The waiter turned back to the table and looked at her expectantly. She could feel her cheeks heat up a little under his gaze.

“Oh, uh, sorry,” she stuttered out awkwardly before clearing her throat. “My terrible, awful friends forgot I don’t drink oolong and I’ve never been here before. What do you like?”

The guy looked at her, confusion swirling in his eyes for some reason. Maybe she was familiar to him too, she thought vaguely. “My favorite is the jasmine.”

That surprised her for some reason. “Really?”

“What?”

“You don’t strike me as a jasmine kind of guy.”

“What kind of guy do I strike you as, then?” He asked, raising his eyebrow. She opened her mouth and then closed it again, at a loss for how to respond. It was a dumb thing to say in the first place, honestly.

“Never mind, forget I said anything.” She waved her hand dismissively and flushed a deep red as her friends giggled. “Jasmine sounds great, thank you...” she waited for his name.

“Lee,” he supplied, turning and leaving.

“Thanks, Lee!” she called before dropping her head on the table. The other girls erupted into laughter. “Spirits, I looked like an idiot!”

“No, no! That was good!” Oma choked out amongst her giggles.

“Then why are you all laughing?” This only made them laugh harder. Eventually, they all settled and Kyali wheezed as she patted her distraught friend’s hand.

“It’s okay, Sola. He’s totally into you.”

“How could you possibly know that? He looked at me like I had three heads,” Kena moaned.

“Uh, because he keeps staring over here ever since he left,” Jin whispered conspiratorially, ducking her head. Kena looked over and made brief eye contact with Lee. Both teenagers averted their eyes immediately to play it off and her friends started snickering again.

“You guys are the worst.” Kena buried her face in her hands to hide her blush.

“We’re just trying to set you up with a cute guy to take to the festival!” Oma said.

“I’m so bad at flirting, though!”

“So is he! That’s why it’s a good thing you’re both hot!”

“Jin!” Kena smacked Jin’s arm and, laughing, Jin pushed against her. The push caught Kena off guard and she fell backwards out of her chair, taking someone else down with her with a deafening crash.

“Oh, Sola! I’m so sorry!” Jin cried. Groaning, Kena sat up. Her stomach dropped when she saw Lee on the floor with her.

“Lee! Oh, spirits, I’m sorry! Jin pushed me and I-“ she sucked in a breath through her teeth as she started to notice the scalding tea that drenched the both of them. Lee propped himself up on his elbow, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. “This tea is really hot. I think I might have some burn salve in my bag. I’m studying medicine and- what’re you looking at?” She paused her rifling through her bag when she noticed him just staring at her, brows furrowed.

“Your hand,” he said, reaching out. A large shard of porcelain from the teapot he’d been carrying was sticking out from the middle of her palm and blood slowly oozed from the wound. Already deep crimson splattered onto the floor, washing away in the puddles of tea. Kena flushed at the way he tenderly inspected her injury, holding her hand in one palm and pulling back her fingers with his other hand.

A stout old man walked out from the back room, looking concerned. Kena felt the same haunting familiarity looking at him that she felt when she first laid eyes on Lee. “What’s going- Lee! What did you do?” He rushed over to the scene of the accident.

“I’m sorry, sir; it was my fault,” babbled Jin. “I pushed my friend and she fell into Lee. Please don’t fire him! We’ll pay for the damages!”

“Fire him?” the old man chuckled. “He’s my nephew. I couldn’t fire him even if I wanted to. Lee, take the poor girl to the back to get fixed up with the first aid kit. I’ll clean up out here.”

Lee almost looked like he wanted to protest but instead he stood and helped Kena to her feet, still holding onto her hand. As he led her to the back room the old man had come from, Kena glanced over her shoulder and saw Kyali giving her a thumbs-up and Oma and Mona hiding giggles while Jin helped pick up pieces of the broken pot. She rolled her eyes and continued walking. Lee sat her down in a folding chair and he bustled around, searching for the medical supplies.

“I’m really sorry,” she said again, staring at her hand and wiggling her fingers. “My friends can be... overzealous sometimes.”

“Yes, I picked up on that,” he responded dryly. She bit her lip and looked up at him nervously only to relax when she saw a small smirk on his face. He carried a small box back over to her and sat down across from her in another chair. He gingerly took her hand again and slowly pulled the piece of porcelain from her palm. She hissed, tensing up at the pain. “Sorry,” he murmured as he removed the shard and set it down.

“You’re fine.” He looked up at her, eyebrow cocked, and she blushed. “I mean, it’s fine. Not that you’re not. You are. That’s- um,” she laughed nervously. “I’m gonna shut up now.” The corners of his mouth pulled up and a warm feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. They sat in relative silence as Lee cleaned her cut and bandaged it. The warm feeling only intensified with the way he gently wrapped a strip of fabric around her hand, fingers dancing lightly across her skin. She knew that as a waterbender her body temperature was a little lower than the typical person, but even his delicate grip was unnaturally warm... almost like... but that wasn’t possible. Why would a firebender have a burn across his face? That didn’t make any sense. He did have the look of one, though, she had to admit — dark hair and porcelain-pale skin, not to mention those golden irises that seared her insides with every glance.

“There,” he said, clipping the bandage into place with a pin. She flexed her fingers experimentally.

“Thanks, Lee,” she said. “Did you need anything for your burns? Like I said, I think I might have some salve in my bag.”

“Burns?” He tilted his head, looking confused. She frowned.

“From the tea. It was pretty hot.”

“Oh, no. I don’t think I got much on my skin. Thank you, though.” He dropped her hand and stood, packing the first aid materials back into the small box. She stared down at her palm, fingers of her other hand tracing the meticulous wrappings. After a few moments of silence between them, she finally spoke again.

“So that’s your uncle out there?”

“Yeah, Mushi.”

“Are you guys refugees?” He nodded. “Where from?”

“Around.” He shrugged, face giving away nothing as he looked to her again. She hummed in understanding — a sore subject still, obviously. She stood up to leave.

“Well, thank you again and sorry again. I hope I didn’t make a terrible first impression.”

“I wouldn’t call it terrible,” he chuckled slightly, “just... memorable.”

“That almost sounds worse.” She grimaced exaggeratedly. “I’ll see you around, though. Maybe we can share that pot of jasmine tea.”

His cheeks tinted pink and he looked down at the ground. “Yeah. That sounds nice.”

“Bye, Lee.” She gave him a small wave before turning and heading into the main dining room of the teahouse. She hurried over to her friends who were waiting outside and they immediately bombarded her with questions.

“So do you like him?”

“Oh my spirits, she’s totally into him! Look at her blushing!”

“Are you guys gonna go out?”

“Did you kiss him yet? He definitely wanted to kiss you. I could tell.”

“Aw, did he wrap your hand up for you? That’s so cute!”

“Please say you asked him out.”

“Yeah, you didn’t chicken out or anything, right?”

“Guys!” Kena laughed over her babbling friends. “Nothing happened. He just helped me patch up my hand.”

“Sola! You get back in there and ask that cute broody boy out!” Her friends started squabbling again as they pushed her back through the doors of the Pao Family Tea House to confront Lee again. As she stumbled inside, both Lee and Mushi gave her confused looks. She grinned sheepishly as she walked towards them.

“Hi again. I just forgot something,” she said.

“Did you drop something?” asked Mushi. “I’ll help you find it.” The old man wandered back over to the table Kena and her friends had been sitting at, giving his nephew a knowing look before halfheartedly scanning the floor.

“Um, no. Didn’t drop anything. I actually just wanted to ask you something, Lee.” Her face was red-hot as she looked up at him. This boy was making her blush more in a few minutes than she had in her entire life.

“What’s that?” he asked, leaning back on the counter. He was trying to feign nonchalance but in reality he thought his heart might pound out of his chest.

“I just wanted to know if you were busy tomorrow night. There’s a festival and I’d really like it if you could come with me.” She held her hands behind her back so he couldn’t see her nervous fidgeting. Lee almost slipped off the counter, quickly catching himself.

“Oh, uh... I’m sorry, I think I have a shift-“

“No, he doesn’t!” Mushi cut in, interrupting his nephew. “He’d love to go with you!” Lee stared at him with wide eyes and Kena laughed.

“Okay, cool. I’ll met you here at sunset tomorrow, then?”

“He’ll be there,” Mushi responded for him, beaming brightly. Kena couldn’t help but smile back as she bid them goodbye (again) and started to leave. “It’s our lucky day, nephew! You have a date with a lovely young lady and I just found my white lotus Pai Sho tile on the ground over there!”

Kena almost tripped over her feet when she heard Mushi mention Pai Sho. He and his nephew were familiar for a reason — one she could remember now as the memories flooded back.

“Remember, Pai Sho is more than just a game,” Iroh explained to a grumpy Zuko and a mesmerized Kena.

“No it’s not, Uncle!” Zuko whined. Kena elbowed him in the ribs and he yelped dramatically.

“Be nice, Zuko! Once General Iroh teaches us the rules, we can play and I can kick your butt.” She smirked at him and he huffed.

“It’s dumb. It’s all luck!” he said.

“No, it’s all about strategy and thinking ahead,” she said.

“Children please,” Iroh chuckled, interrupting the bickering kids. “You’re both right. Pai Sho cannot be won with just luck or just strategy. You need both, like yin and yang.”

“Like us!” Kena wrapped her arms around her best friend and squeezed him. The boy flushed pink and Iroh grinned at them.

Kena rushed out of the tea house, not even stopping as she passed by her bewildered friends. She had to get home and think this through.

Zuko stared at the doors the girl had disappeared through until his uncle set his hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t be nervous, dear nephew; dates are easy. She seems to like you very much and appears to be quite nice. You’ll have a great time if you just be yourself!”

He shot Iroh a look. “It’s not that, Uncle. It’s just... she seems so familiar.”

“Ah, I see. Perhaps you loved each other in your past lives.” Iroh nodded sagely and Zuko rolled his eyes.

“No, don’t be ridiculous. I’m pretty sure I’ve seen her somewhere in this life.”

“We’ve visited many places these past few years, it’s entirely possible she is a refugee from a village we once traveled to.”

He shook his head. “She didn’t seem scared of me. If I had seen her since... leaving... I think she would’ve run in the other direction. I wasn’t exactly traveling as a tourist.”

“Maybe you aren’t as scary as you think you are, Prince Zuko,” Iroh teased. Zuko grumbled under his breath and walked away to clean off a table someone had left, the girl’s face swimming in his mind.

When she got back to her small apartment, she didn’t even greet Fera, a woman a few years older than herself who she’d met in her travels and was currently rooming with, before locking herself in her bedroom. She tossed her bag to the ground and started to pace back and forth in the tiny area that wasn’t occupied by her cot and simple dresser. She paused when Fera knocked at her door.

“Are you alright, Kena?” the woman called through the wood. Kena sighed deeply.

“I’m fine. I just... had a weird day. I’ll tell you about it later, I promise,” she said.

“Okay. Let me know if you need anything.” Kena sat heavily on the edge of her bed as Fera’s footsteps faded into their kitchen. She dropped her head into her hands and pressed her palms against her eyes, wincing when she remembered the cut from earlier.

It wasn’t possible. It didn’t make any sense. Why in Tui’s name were Zuko and Iroh in Ba Sing Se, pretending to be refugees and working in a tea shop? Were they here to capture her? That couldn’t be it — Zuko’d had the perfect opportunity when they were alone in the back of the tea house. Something major had obviously happened, judging by the scar on his face and his short hair that was very un-Fire Nation. It had been many long years since they’d seen each other and she hadn’t immediately recognized them, so maybe she had lucked out and they didn’t recognize her either and they just happened to be here on other business. She cursed the complete lack of outside news circulation in the city. It was impossible to know if she’d heard nothing about the fire prince because of lack of information or because they were here covertly, on a mission. The last she’d heard about either of them was Iroh pulling out of his siege against the city several years ago, right before she moved into the Lower Ring with Fera and all the other refugees.

Despite her initial anxiety, that warm feeling from earlier was in her gut again. He’d found her, even if he didn’t know it yet. Her best friend was here, so close, in Ba Sing Se. She felt a little giddy when she thought about how they wouldn’t have to meet in secret here. They could sit and talk and hug and just exist together in broad daylight without fear of punishment. Maybe that’s why they were here under aliases — they had finally grown tired of living under Ozai’s thumb.

Kena pushed herself back to sit in the middle of her bed, drawing her knees up to her chest. She allowed herself a small smile as she wrapped her arms around herself. This could be nice, she thought. Zuko and I together again. We always talked about leaving one day and starting new. It was hypothetical back then, but now... we’re already halfway there. We just have to put it all together. Iroh wasn’t part of our original plan but he was nice enough when we were kids, and Zuko adored him. Maybe one day when we earn enough money, Iroh could open his own tea house like Zuko said he used to joke about. Maybe one day we could live like normal people, like everyone else here.

She shook herself out of her reverie. She was getting way too far ahead of herself, considering she still had no idea if they were even here benignly. The girl couldn’t help herself, though — for the first time in years, something warm and bright and pure was bubbling up in her chest; something that felt a little bit like hope.

A/N: ended up being not as long as i thought it’d be, but i’m still pretty happy with it and it seemed like a good place to cut. things start to get ~spicy~ next time, so remember to ask for a tag if you want to stay up to date! i love you !

TAGS: @beifongsss @the-lva-way @lammello @llorom6nnic @idkdude776 @bubblebars @royahllty @mamooska8 @bucky-blogs @youneedmemanidonotneedyou @eridanuswave @rosetheshapeshifter @fantasticchaoticwho @bwndito

[blake-belladonna-defence-force]

I Know (But Tell Me Anyway)

This one is based on a discord conversation. It lead to me developing my new headcanon that Yang “taught” Blake how to ride Bumblebee. But Blake already knows how to drive thanks to her time in the White Fang. But she enjoys listening to Yang talk and wants an excuse to both spend time with her and to be as close to her as possible. So she lets Yang teach her... and occasionally plays dumb in hopes of getting Yang to go on one of her adorable rambles about bikes.

Also feat. A brief mention of Pyrrha/Blake friendship because I need more of it in my life. Why? I don’t know. I just think it’s neat.

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

“Oh my God. The way you and Pyrrha teamed up to take Cardin down was absolutely perfect. Like, you two are officially my heroes.

Blake smirked from where she sat cross legged near her friend and partner’s toolbox as she worked on her bike. Yang had been more than happy to discuss Cardin’s verbal beat down from their friend and Blake herself. Blake wasn’t sure why it was so amusing to Yang but here they were.

“Don’t smirk at me like that! You and Pyrrha are both super smart! And powerful swordwomen.” Yang said grinning over at Blake, grease spot on her cheek. It was strangely endearing. “Like… Weiss is an amazing fencer, don’t get me wrong. But you and Pyrrha have a more… I don’t know. Powerful sword style? If you actually fought together…”

“Honestly, I did consider tracking Pyrrha down and choosing her as my partner because… I mean… it’s Pyrrha. Do I really need to explain myself?” Blake laughed when Yang pretended to think for moment before shaking her head with a cheeky grin. “But we’re too similar to be efficient partners, I think. We can both fight with a sword, we both have range attacks and both throw our weapons. We’d match a little too well and just… wouldn’t really push each other to improve as much as we do with our current partners.”

“Jaune pushes her to improve?”

“Maybe not as a fighter. Not yet.” Blake said thoughtfully, lightly twirling a screwdriver around her fingers. “But as a friend. As a teammate and as a partner. Pyrrha and I catch up over tea a lot and... Well, as… clumsy and ridiculous as that boy can be, I know that he helps her in ways that he doesn’t even know about yet.”

“Maybe she should tell him that.”

“I don’t think she’s ready.” Blake said softly, her lips twitching into a concerned frown at the thought of her friend. “Pyrrha’s…. not used to people seeing her as an equal. She’s not used to being seen as a friend instead of an idol. I think that… she’s scared of becoming too much. For everyone, not just Jaune. Too clingy, too needy. Too… her.” Blake sighed softly. It was something she could relate to. It was one of the reason why she and Pyrrha caught as often as they did. It was a little overwhelming for them both to suddenly be surrounded by so many kind and caring people.

“Yeah… I get that.” Yang murmured, sitting back on her hunches. “But her friends care about her. None of us are gonna, like, be any less her friends if she starts showing the real her, y’know?”

“Yeah.” Blake said softly, her ears flattening under her bow. Oh Yang. If she only knew how much her words meant to Blake.

“Anyway… Blake? Wrench?”

“What did you just call me?” Blake joked, hiding a smile behind her hand as Yang gave her a deadpan stare.

“Gremlin.” Yang snorted as Blake handed her the wrench. “This is what I get for letting you pick me. You still haven’t told me why, by the way.”

“I knew that I worked well with your particular fighting style.” Blake said nonchalantly as Yang continued her work. “You’re different enough that it covers my weaknesses. That difference, in turn, can help me grow in my weaker areas of combat.” Blake paused for moment as a playful smile broke out across her face. “Plus, you were ripping Ursai apart with with your bare hands. I know a woman that I want as an ally rather than an enemy when I see her.”

“I mean… you’re not wrong.” Yang said, playful arrogance dripping from her voice as she stood up, her work done. Blake ran an appraising eye over Bumblebee. She had driven many bikes as a getaway vehicle over the last five years but Yang’s bike was far and away the best kept one. But that might have more to do with the fact that when Blake drove, road rules didn’t exist. Speed limit? Traffic lights? What were those?

“She’s beautiful, huh?” Yang said warmly, lilac eyes glowing with pride.

“You’ve taken good care of her.”

“I kind of had to. She used to belong to my mum so… I guess… it was just important to me.” Yang said, shrugging.

“Hmm.” Blake hummed softly, tilting her head curiously at the bike. Whoever Yang’s mum was, Blake couldn’t help but feel grateful to her. She must have been an incredible woman to have raised such amazing daughters.

“Take a seat.” Yang suddenly piped up excitedly, ushering Blake onto the bike’s seat. Blake quirked an eyebrow but remained silent and sat on the bike. She watched Yang’s brows shoot up as she looked Blake over. “Hey, do us all a favour and stop rockin’ everything. Save some badass for the rest of us, would ya?”

“Oh shut up!” Blake giggled behind a hand, reaching out a hand to playfully smack Yang’s shoulder.

“I’m serious! You suit a bike!” Yang grinned before her eyes lit and Blake immediately became slightly wary. She knew that look. The last time she saw that look, Weiss nearly froze her and Yang on the spot. Note to self; don’t steal the Ice Queen’s hairbrush. “Wait! Can I teach you to drive? Ruby’s too scared to get on Bumblebee and it would take something extreme for Weiss to get on her. Seriously, I’d have to, like, save her from bandits or something.” Yang chuckled as she leaned on the handlebars and smiled hopefully at Blake. “None of my other friend’s wanted to learn. Please? It could be a partner bonding thing! I teach you ride Bumblebee and you can teach me… something.”

“I-“ Blake tried to say that she already knew how to drive… but the hopeful glint in Yang’s eyes made her falter. How could she say no to that face? “Okay. You can teach me.”

Yang grinned excitedly and reached over to pull Blake into a quick hug before running her through points that she already knew. But Yang seemed so bright and happy to have somebody to talk to about her bike… that Blake may or may not have pretended to be confused, asking questions that she already knew the answers to and trying to hide a smile as Yang guided her hands to the right place and pressed her hand into her back to adjust her position.

“Oh boy.” Yang said teasingly. “We’ve got a lot of work to do.

An opportunity to spend even more time with Yang? How could she be mad about that?

[guessmonsta]

hello my queen... returned to her castle I see? Could you please do a thing just like the Kuroo one except Kuroo is Bokuto's wingman? I'm so soft for them and you ohmygoodness

You’re adorable and I appreciate you so much. For legal reasons I created a fake cafe called The Gazelle. I’ve used it like twenty times if this is a real place I’m so sorry

It was a very rare occurrence for Bokuto to be awake before noon on a weekend. It was even rarer that he was sprinting across campus to get to Kuroo’s dorm at nine in the morning. Campus custodians gave him weird looks, girls walking to their professors office hours giggled at him, but he just kept running.

Kuroo lived on the eighth floor in the farthest dormitory building from Bokuto’s. He ran up the stairs, skipping two as he went, and once he finally got to Kuroo’s door, he didn’t even bother to knock, he just slammed his fist against the door in one harsh blow.

From inside, he heard Kuroo mutter a quick, “fucking hell,” to his roommate before the door swung open in his face. Kuroo didn’t look amused, and scanned Bokuto up and down before he snorted, covering up his mouth with his hand.

“I’m not gonna judge your lifestyle bro,” Kuroo snorted, “but literally, what the hell.”

“Listen, hear me out,” Bokuto began, still slightly out of breath. “The cute girl who works at The Gazelle has a shift right now.”

“What?” Kuroo stared at him dumbfounded. “How do you know that?”

“Me and, and a couple of my friends from statistics have been taking notes on each time she works. She always works Saturday mornings so-” Kuroo cut him off by laughing again, then stepped out into the hallway and motioned Bokuto to start walking. No matter the situation, no matter how ridiculous it sounded, Kuroo was always readily available for anything Bokuto had in mind.

“So you’ve been stalking this girl?”

“Bro, I’m not stalking her, I’m just admiring her. A-and that admiration has gotten to a kind of unhealthy level to me personally, as a person.”

“Wait, so have you actually ever even talked to this girl?” Kuroo asked, and was faced with Bokuto widening his eyes. “Dude, you’ve gawked at her every single time we’ve gone, and you haven’t even talked to her?”

“I ordered a hot cocoa from her that one time-” Bokuto sighed, “I sound like a simp.”

“Bro, you aren’t a simp. What you are is stupid. How the hell are you going to work together with your statistics friends to recreate some random girls' work schedule but you all have a D in the class?”

“Listen-” Bokuto laughed. “Sora says that she has dyscalculia, and that the rest of us probably have it too. We all have our strengths and weaknesses, Kuroo. Sorry I can’t be a perfect chem major like you.” He teased, socking Kuroo in the arm. Kuroo winced slightly, then punched him back.

“Yeah, you have your strengths for sure.”

“Okay, so I’m probably gonna actually talk to her today.”

“Wow, making big boy moves.” Kuroo laughed, “Where’s this coming from?”

“I can’t tell if it’s fake confidence or adrenaline!” Bokuto shrugged. “Both work!”

Once they entered the cafe, the familiar smell of coffee beans, warmth, and just a tinge of something else hit Bokuto and made him so much more nervous. Why should he be nervous? He was hot. He was sexy. He was 6’2 of big beefy muscle and fat ass, he shouldn’t be afraid of rejection!

But then he saw her. __ hair pulled back into two pigtail french braids as she politely took a stoners order at the counter. He finally got to see her eyes, they were __, pretty __ eyes and the cutest little smile and this cute little way her nose scrunched up when she did-

Kuroo was laughing at him. Kuroo was doubled over Bokuto’s shoulder, absolutely wheezing at him, and Bokuto no longer knew how to feel.

“Bro, not cool!”

“You’re just-” Kuroo started cackling, his signature loud witch cackle, and Bokuto felt his face flush red. The pretty barista made eye contact with him at the sound of Kuroo’s laugh, cocked an eyebrow, then went back to her order. The butterflies promptly returned to his stomach.

“The way you looked at her bro-” Kuroo hiss whispered. “Priceless.” 

“Get your shit together dude, you gotta be my wingman!”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?” Kuroo managed to choke out between laughs. “This is too much.”

“You’re horrible! I can’t be my own wingman! How am I supposed to hype myself up without looking like a complete jackass-”

Before Bokuto could finish, he realized that they were next up to order. Pretty __ Eyes looked at him and cocked her head, a shy, playful smile crossing her cheeks.

“Hi there! How can I help you today?” She chirped. Awh, even her customer service voice was adorable, he thought to himself. He sighed, trying to suppress a goofy smile on his face. Somehow, Kuroo got it together enough to stammer out, “Hey, hi, yeah, can I get uhhhh… iced latte with oat milk and vanilla flavoring please?” like a dork would.

Bokuto was so caught up thinking about how the prettiest girl in the world was somehow working at a cafe and not walking the runway, and why Kuroo would order something with oat milk out of all things, to even realize that he had to order next. Before he could snap out of his daze, he heard Kuroo laugh.

“Sorry about my friend. When he was born, all his brain cells were converted into sexy instead.”

The barista covered her mouth with her hand to suppress a laugh, and Bokuto felt a hot blush run up his neck. He would’ve punched Kuroo in the arm, but figured he had to keep his cool.

“I-” The barista giggled, not even trying to hold back her laugh. “I mean, yeah, good for him?”

“Oh yeah.” Kuroo leaned his arm up on the counter. There was nobody else behind them, and Kuroo knew what he was doing. “I mean look at the guy. Seventy four inches of pure, raw sex. Do you like volleyball?”

At this point, Pretty __ Eyes was borderline hysterics. Bokuto was starting to think Kuroo was less of a wingman and more of his own, personal jester.

“Yeah, I played in high school.” She responded. Cute, and played volleyball? Bokuto just felt the blush just hotter. 

“Yeah, this guy right here, Owlboy Sexyman, he was the fourth best ace in the country, don’t you know. Fukurodani’s captain.”

“Oh wow, you guys went to Fukurodani?”

“Nah, just him. I’m not even a fragment of how cool Mr. Sexyman here is.” Kuroo pointed at him with his thumb, then shook his head. “And he has a fat ass.”

She laughed, and shook her head.

“And does Owlboy Sexyman want anything today?”

At this point, Bokuto couldn’t hide his blush. He knew if he opened his mouth to start talking, he would end up sounding like a dog toy.

So he just stood there.

Kuroo sighed, and kicked him in the shin, which caused him to jump.

“Seems like he’s just too damn sexy today! No brain cells in sight. He’ll take a large iced hot chocolate with extra whip.”

“Sounds great.” She giggled. “Since you guys literally just made my whole shift, I’m gonna give you twenty percent off today.”

“Thank you, you’re a doll.”

When they stepped aside to pay for their drinks, Bokuto burst out laughing. Kuroo looked down at him, and choked back another cackle.

“Did you like what I did there?”

“You-” Bokuto snorted, “Are so fucking stupid.”

“Ah, it’s my specialty.”

“That definitely did not work at all. If anything, she probably likes you from that whole show you put on.”

“Nah, she didn’t look interested in me. Worst case scenario, at least we made a pretty girl laugh at your expense!”

“Yeah, I guess.” Bokuto shrugged.

“Iced latte for Kuroo!” Pretty __ Eyes called out, then handed the drink gingerly over to him. He took a dramatic sip, then sighed.

“Hits the spot.”

“How the heck do they even… milk an oat.” Bokuto muttered, and Kuroo shrugged.

“I dunno. How do they milk almonds?”

“Do almonds have boobs?” Bokuto asked, a little bit too loud.

“Iced hot chocolate for Owlboy Sexyman!”

The moment she announced this, Bokuto wheezed, and Kuroo spit his coffee out in the most violent, dramatic, and cartoonish way possible. Bokuto didn’t know whether or not to keep laughing, or start crying. Kuroo had iced coffee dribbling down his neck like a toddler, but even he himself couldn’t stop laughing.

Bokuto looked up to see Pretty __ Eyes hunched over the serving station convulsing as well. Bokuto walked over to her, and bowed his head in shame, all while laughing.

“I am so-”

“Who the hell are you two!” She stammered between giggles. Bokuto noticed her eyes were brighter when she laughed. He had managed to stop laughing but the smile on his face only grew. She was beautiful and he had no idea how to handle it.

“I am so, so sorry.”

“Don’t worry.” She shook her head. “Your friend has to clean that up, because I’m definitely not going to.”

“He will, he will. “Bokuto looked back over at Kuroo, who was still laughing to himself hysterically, his face buried in his hands. “I promise we’re not on drugs.” 

“Hey, it’s college. No judgement.” She smiled, Her fingertips brushed his as she handed him his drink. He noticed that she had scribbled her number on the side of the cup, and the dying blush on his face returned. His mouth gaped a little bit, then he looked back up at her.

“My name is not actually Owlboy Sexyman.”

“I would hope not.” She smiled. “I’m __, by the way.”

“I’m Bokuto.”

“Bokuto.” She repeated, then smiled. “We should hang out sometime. I don’t know many other people around here who play volleyball.”

“Oh, wow, I-” Bokuto nodded and smiled, looking a little bit dumb as he did. “That’s awesome! That’s great! That’s great.”

“See you around then?” She cocked her head. Bokuto nodded a little bit too aggressively.

“I’ll see you around!”

__ shot him one last smile before she turned around and walked back to the order counter. Bokuto sighed a deep sigh, and sat back down next to Kuroo, whose shirt was covered in spit and coffee.

“Dude, you did it.”

Kuroo looked up at him from his hands, and smiled.

“Shit, I would hope so, because this oat milk is fucking disgusting.”

[paintedwithapalette]

So, I got back this absolutely amazing commission from @pun-riii​ to fit with a scene from chapter 11 of my Memories of You fanfic! So, here it is. Hope you all enjoy! 

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Memories of You: The Balcony  

Word Count: 2, 592

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Roxas figured some fresh air would do him some good and he returned to the balcony Paine dragged him to earlier, resting his arms against the white wooden railing. With his mind finally clear, he was able to admire the stars speckling against a dark midnight blue backdrop. His mother always taught him about the existence of another side where hearts go after they pass on from the land of the living. The idea was appealing as a child but as he grew older, he began to question it. Did an afterlife truly exist? Was there a chance his father was looking down at them with a proud smile? He didn't have anything to go off of other than his mother's word that he would understand someday, but it was beginning to feel like a fairy tale designed to keep traumatized children from succumbing to despair. 

Roxas dug into his pocket and salvaged the balled up card Rufus originally gave him earlier. After wrinkling his eyebrows, he ripped the card into two and carelessly tossed the severed pieces into the air, watching the evening breeze carry it through the night.

"Roxas?"

Naminé stood by the door frame behind him with her head giving a slight tilt. She was still wearing those ridiculous shades. 

"Sorry," Roxas apologized, putting on a friendlier demeanor. "I just needed some air. I should have told you."

Naminé leaned against the railing along with him. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"I'm fine. Just needed some time to think."

"About what?"

"About what I'm going to do with my life," Roxas answered rather quickly. "About where I belong or what I'm supposed to do. I've had all this pressure and expectations put on me and I'm not sure how to handle it."

"Sounds pretty deep. For you, anyway."

"Thank—hey, wait. What do you mean, for me?"

Naminé let out a delicate giggle into her closed fist. She could see his smile through the tint of her sunglasses. His company was always so pleasant. She couldn’t remember the last time she could bear being in the same room with another soul outside of her immediate family for more than five minutes without feeling a crippling urge to drop dead on the spot. To think that she nearly wouldn’t have experienced this moment with him if it hadn't been for her father dragging her to this surprisingly eventful dinner party in the first place. The thought brought a frown to her lips. 

Roxas didn’t fail to notice it. "What's wrong?" 

"I... have a confession to make." 

He crossed his arms. "What is it? You can tell me."

"I, um... I didn't really come here because I wanted to," she painfully admitted. "Not at first, anyway. I mean, I'm glad I came because it turned out to be really fun, but... I was originally planning on not showing up, even after Kairi tried talking me into it. I’m only here because my dad forced me to come because I guess he wants to keep an eye on me." She lowered her head in shame. "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?"

"Aren't you mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad?" Roxas asked with an airy chuckle. 

Finding his reaction unexpected, Naminé blinked. "Well, I'm not here because it was my decision, like you said it should be. I-I mean... it's not like I came because I'm a good friend or because I'm making a real effort to come out of my shell. I didn't have a choice in the first place, and if I did, it wouldn't have resulted in me being here with you right now.” 

"But you are here. That's what matters in the end, right?"

"But I—"

"Listen," Roxas interrupted gently. "Whether you wanted to come or not, you still did. You still went through the trouble of finding something to wear. You still walked through those doors. You even let me introduce you to my friends. You didn't have to do any of that, but you did. That has to count for something." He smiled. "Whether you realize it or not, you're trying. That's all that matters to me."

Naminé felt her lips part momentarily before turning her head to downplay the shy smile growing against her own will. "You're so mushy."

Roxas chuckled. "Yeah, I’ve heard it from Xion more than once."

Naminé still couldn’t inwardly deny a fragment of guilt lingering in the back of her mind. She wished she had the resolve to face her fears and take the initiative in the first place without her father’s demands being the main catalyst for her attendance. If anything, she could do it for Roxas. In the short amount of time they’ve known each other, he’s been such a good friend to her. Naminé tried to convince herself that taking this step was for her own sake, but she wanted to take his feelings into account as well. Seeing that look of the purest form of joy glowing in his eyes when he first saw her earlier that evening was something she was glad she didn't miss out on. She promised herself she would make it up to him, even if he didn't feel like she needed to. For their next outing, and yes, there would be a next, she would go of her own volition. Not because anyone told her to go. But because he was her friend and he deserved it.

"You’re sweet, Roxas."

Roxas couldn’t tear his eyes away from her smile. And oh, what a pretty smile it was. It would only be prettier if he could see the eyes designed to complement it. "Naminé, why are you still wearing those?"

Her smile faltered. "I told you before—I can't handle eye contact."

"Not even right now?" he asked, closing the small distance between them. "Not even with me?"

Naminé pressed her lips together. There was something about wearing the shades that made her feel more secure. It made her interactions with others more impersonal. "What difference would it make?"

"More than you might think.” Roxas scratched his cheek. “I just kinda want to see you. Those shades make me feel like there's a wall between us. You shouldn't have to hide behind these. You don't need them."

"B-But I do," she argued. "I get so nervous when people look at me, like if I'm looking at their eyes in the wrong way or they get the wrong idea or if I'm staring at people for an uncomfortable amount of time, people don't have to know what I'm looking at and—and—"

"Naminé," Roxas said, effectively cutting her rambling short as he placed his hands on her shoulders. "Trust me."

Naminé felt her lips quivering before she let out a deep sigh. She knew she was making excuses. He was right. It shouldn't have been a big deal. Besides, it was Roxas. She didn't have much trouble looking him in the eyes anymore. As long as it was someone like him or Kairi, she could live with it.

"So, is it okay if I take these off?" he asked.

Naminé nodded reluctantly. Roxas held the sides of her sunglasses and pulled them from her ears tenderly. Her eyes fluttered open; soft blue with the stars ornamenting sparkles into their reflection. It was the first time he saw her eyes the entire night and the first word that came to his mind was... 

Breathtaking.

In the corners of his mind, Roxas always found Naminé attractive even when he first laid eyes on her. But this was the first time he had seen her dolled up, her soft features highlighted to near perfection. His eyes trailed to her lips that were parted slightly—he gulped. He had a dangerous, crazy thought involving his own lips he would not allow himself to act on. Quite frankly, he wasn't sure where it came from, but he blamed it on his dumb teenage boy hormones. Roxas cleared his throat before she could get nervous at his staring.

"See? You don't need these," he said, placing the sunglasses into his back pocket. 

Despite his encouragement, Naminé couldn’t resist the urge to squirm under his gaze. Sure, she had looked him in his eyes before, but not under a circumstance like this. With her eyes exposed, it brought about a sense of vulnerability she wasn’t accustomed to. If eyes truly were windows to the soul, then Roxas was getting a peak at hers. Just the thought of that made her rip her eyes away from his. What if he didn’t like what he saw? 

"Hey, Naminé..." Roxas said softly. The way her name rolled off his lips was starting to make Naminé weak in the knees.

"Y-Yes?"

However, any potential butterflies in her stomach fueled by anticipation were thrown out the window with his next words.

"Staring contest!"

"H-Huh?!"

Roxas grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to look up at him. Her wide, confused eyes were locked with his intense, focused ones. Neither moved for a solid five minutes. Or at least, Naminé felt like it was five minutes. Despite not knowing what was going on or where this came from, she suddenly caught wind of the competitive bug and didn’t want to lose. She returned his stare with an equal amount of intensity, refusing to back down from his challenge. A third spectator might have thought they were furious at each other.

The contest proved difficult for Naminé. Roxas wouldn't budge, not even so much as a wince. She felt her eyes threatening to leak and clenched her teeth after what felt like an eternity of staring. But she couldn't lose. She wanted another excuse to rub something in his face.

Then he blew into her eyes, practically forcing her into a rapid sequence of blinks. 

"I win!"

Naminé continued to blink if only to moisturize her dried up eyes while Roxas laughed at her expense. It was bad enough she was wearing contacts. Did he really need to blow into them? "You cheater!"

"I never said you couldn't sabotage your opponent," Roxas said cheekily.

"Wow. Thanks for letting me know, jerk."

"But hey, you see? Eye contact isn't so bad."

“Okay, but there's a difference between managing eye contact and an actual staring contest."

But for some reason, it did help. She was making eye contact with him without an issue. It was easier when there was something so silly and weird to break the ice. That must have been his plan the whole time. The rascal. 

“Still, it’s not like I can just walk up to a stranger and force them into a random staring contest if I want to break the ice,” Naminé challenged. 

“Hey, you never know.” Roxas shrugged, making Naminé send an unconvinced gaze. “Kidding. It’ll get easier with time, though,” he assured. “Maybe with some practice.” 

She sighed. "That's what they always say. It just stinks when practice involves putting yourself into situations you're not comfortable with."

“Well, are you comfortable now?” 

Naminé replaced her frown with a soft smile. “Well, sure. I’m with you, aren’t I?” 

“Then that’s good enough.” 

They descended into a gentle silence, their eyes bound to the night sky. Naminé came to an epiphany. Their conversation dwindled and somehow it wasn’t awkward in the slightest. What madness was this? Weren’t long pauses supposed to be uncomfortable and inelegant? Was there not an unspoken expectation to fill the silence and alleviate the tension on both sides? Yet there she was in the company of another human being partaking in a peaceful lull that made her feel the furthest thing from tense. In fact she felt, dare she say, relaxed? 

The pleasant scenery surely helped. While far from turbulent, Destiny Islands was noticeably more animated during the daytime. But the night allowed for the evening lanterns to come alive and highlight the town’s fine points with its tropical aesthetic. The darkened sea engulfed the majority of the horizon and in the short distance sat a tiny island Naminé had never been to before. The sight had to be out of a fairy tale novel. 

"This place really is beautiful," Naminé said, filling the silence as she clasped her hands together. Not because she was uncomfortable. Just because she felt like it.

"It is," Roxas agreed, leaning on the railing while turning to face her with a grin. 

Though, the sky wasn’t the only thing he found alluring that night. Naminé truly was more beautiful than even he had anticipated. Something about the way her eyes captured a soft volume of contentment tugged at something inside him. The way her hair was tied up in a bun with loose strands framing her porcelain face. The way her dress highlighted her slender figure that wasn't without subtle but very visible curves. She was always cute, but this was different.

Should he have admitted his attraction to her? It wasn't always easy to predict how Naminé would react to things. Everything seemed to have a half-and-half probability. With a compliment, he could see her taking the praise and thinking nothing of it just as much as he could see her rejecting his opinion and finding it too overwhelming and embarrassing to be true. But transparency was something Naminé needed to become more acquainted with. 

There was also the implication. Would she perceive it as some sort of confession? Roxas wasn't sure if he viewed Naminé in that way. Did he really like Naminé in the way Axel suggested? He sincerely didn't think so before, but now—having her there, to see her trying to put in more of an effort, and the fact that her inner and external beauty was becoming more evident...

He wasn't sure.

"Is everything okay?" Naminé asked, her voice returning him to the present.

"Oh, yeah," Roxas said, mulling on his next words. "It's just—I think you look really beautiful tonight. I, uh... thought I'd let you know."

While the blush was imminent, she took it better than he expected. She didn't flail her arms around like a manic and she didn't have a nervous breakdown. She only stared at him in momentary surprise before the ends of her lips offered him the slightest of curls. "Th-Thank you, Roxas." She gulped. "I-I was... thinking the same thing about you."

He raised a brow. "That I look beautiful? I mean, I'm flattered and all, but—"

"No, goofball," she said, replacing her smile with a pout. He was just trying to pull the proper words out of her and she knew it. "You l-look... good.” 

“Good?” 

“Um... h-h-handsome?" That was the correct word, right?

Roxas snickered. He could never get tired of watching her twist and turn with discomfort. "Just tell me you love me already, why don't you?"

"I take it back..."

"Oh, come on! I'm joking."

"Can't you go five seconds without teasing me?"

"What kind of a question is that? I can't even go three seconds."

"There's something we agree on."

"Fine," Roxas groaned. "I'll take you out for mint chocolate chip ice cream to make up for it, Ms. Killjoy. Take a joke, would you?"

"I most certainly can take a joke! Excuse me for thinking we were having a moment."

“So, you were wanting us to have a moment?” 

“Th-That’s not the point!” 

“Except it totally is.” 

“Shut up.” 

While they bantered, Xion, who was about to go check on Roxas herself, stood around the corner listening to the echoes of their laughter. 

[writinginthedarkwood]

"If I Killed Someone For You" by Alec Benjamin reminds me of Yanderes! Kaminari, Kirishima, or Deku. Would you do a writing piece of them based on this song?

I love this, hopefully it’s what you were looking for. :) I chose Denki because I don’t see a lot of yandere stuff for him.

Warnings: blood, typical yandere shenanigans. 

Denki pried his fingers off of the edge of the sink and reached for the faucet with shaky hands. The water trickled out cold, he filled his palms and let the water run over them, the blood hadn’t started to dry yet. It ran down the drain dark and dirty against the white porcelain. “It never gets any easier...” He turned his head and looked at the mess on the floor. That pathetic mess hadn’t moved in a few minutes, but he never liked to have his back turned on a body too long. He laughed and kicked his stomach. The body slumped forward with more blood oozing out of his mouth, but it didn’t make a sound. “Yup, still dead.” 

Yeah it never got any easier, Denki thought. 

The cleanup, that is.

 The young man filled up the bucket of water with soap and scrubbed at the walls. The blood came off easy, the difficult part is getting the blood out of the rags. He’ll probably burn them, that seemed to work pretty good last time. “Your honor, I had a moment of weakness, but it will never happen again. My service as a hero should prove that I love this city...” Denki muttered to himself as he ripped the rubber gloves off and tossed them into the trash bag with all of the bloody cloths. The body was wrapped in a plastic tarp, out of the way for now, but he had to hurry and get it on the street before too much of the leaked out. 

 Kaminari caught a moment of himself in the reflection of the metal bucket, he bent down and studied his face. He hooked his lip and pulled on it to look at his teeth. He touched his hair, fixing it back in place and smiled at his reflection. “You need some sleep Kaminari, you barely look like yourself.” He smirked again and winked. 

His phone beeped in his pocket.

Her

Would she be devastated when the police call to tell her the news, or will she be relieved he’s finally gone? Denki wondered and checked the text. “Hey can I call you after work? I’m having a rough day... :(” Denki thought he could cry, reaching out to him after a long day? She really must love him, maybe she knew somehow that he’s been her protector, the one she can always rely on. 

Would you love me even more if you knew it was me who got rid of that scum bag?

“Another body on this side of town, a serial killer?” Denki’s old friend touched her cheek and chin as she asked the chief of police. Denki shook his head in disbelief. “Absolutely disgusting, but I don’t think so Headphone Jack. It doesn’t look like it was well thought out, maybe a robbery?” 

Jiro nodded her head in agreement. “He’s dressed like he was carrying a lot of cash, I’m not sure what he would be doing all the way over here. I mean, he just looks out of place.” The police had the entire street blocked off with flashing lights. The ambulance is moving the body in a bag, the sirens on and blaring. The detectives approached the hero pair. “Thank you for calling us you two, if you hadn’t called I doubt anyone would have reported this for awhile. Things have a tendency to just disappear out this way.” The detective fixed his hat on his head to tip at the heroes. “I think you’re right Chargebolt, a mugging gone wrong. This case will probably turn up cold, his wallet is empty but all his belongings are with him. Nothing to really trace to a pawn shop around here, so unless we find prints on the murder weapon, we don’t have a lot to go off of.”

Good luck finding a print on that crow bar, you won’t.

“Just a mess sir, I’m so sorry. Do we have an ID on him?” Denki asked the detective with another shake of the head. “His ID was still on him, so was his office card. He works on the other side of town.” 

“Where at?” Jiro asked with a stern face. “Maybe we can dig around and find out what he was doing out here.” 

“He worked at the Law Firm by that one sushi bar...” The detective thought for a moment. “Don’t get too involved in this, you know those big office types. Always hiding something. He probably was over here for something shady, and got caught up in a mess. Let us handle it, you two head home.” 

Denki turned the keys in his car over and felt the air conditioning hit his hot cheeks and took a deep breath. Such a rush every time, nobody would ever suspect sweet, kinda ‘dumb’ Kaminari for anything so heinous. He drove out of the bad side of town wearing his favorite disguise.

His hero costume.

He hummed to the radio as he headed for your neighborhood, you should be getting home from work any time now. 

His phone rang, right on time. He waited a second so you wouldn’t think he was staring at his phone waiting for you to call. “Kaminari.” He said casually into the phone. 

“H-hey Chargebolt, it’s me... Y/N.” 

Your voice was so sweet, so gentle. You sounded tired. 

“Hey you! You know you can call me Denki, I told you that!” 

You laughed a small giggle and trailed off for a second. “Oh yeah, sorry. How was your day?” 

Denki talked for a little bit, saying there was a few weird things at work but nothing he wasn’t used too. “But enough about me, why was your day so rough?”  

“One of my bosses never showed up to work today, and they threw all of his work load onto me. I had to give a presentation I knew nothing about, and meet with a client who wouldn’t talk to me because I’m not a lawyer yet... I don’t even work with him often, I don’t know why I had to pick up his work.” You sighed into the phone. “I guess I’m just tired, I don’t even feel like cooking but I haven’t eaten all day.”

Denki grit his teeth and tightened his grip on the steering wheel. That bastard is messing with her from the other side, he smashed that bug to make things easier for her, not worse.

“You know what you need?” Denki asked, forcing his tone to be pleasant. “What’s that?” You asked sweetly into the phone. “Some takeout. Want me to swing by with some food?” 

“Oh no, you’re so busy I could never ask you to do that.” He couldn’t see you, but your face blushed profusely. THE Chargebolt wanted to come to your apartment? 

“I’m never too busy for such a good friend, I’m not far, I’ll come by.”

You looked through your peephole, surprised. You barely recognized your friend. You swung the door open quickly and gasped. “What happened to you!?” 

You touched his face, he looked pale and exhausted. He held up a brown paper bag and a bottle of wine. “Aw come on, I can’t look that bad!” You grabbed his jacket and quickly pulled him inside. “Come sit down, you look like you just saw a ghost.” You took the food from him and set it on your coffee table. He plopped down on your couch like he had been there a million times. 

Because well, he had. He loved spending time here with you. You had never invited him inside, but he didn’t think you would mind if he slipped in for a bit while you slept. You’re such a sweet person, you’d want him to be comfortable. 

You sat down beside him and opened the bag, the two of you talked and ate together. He had you laughing so hard a noodle almost came out of your nose. Things got quiet for a second after the both of you yawned, I guess it was getting a little late. You turned the T.V. on and a breaking news segment caught your eye.

“We’ll increase our patrols of the area to try and increase the safety of all the cities residents, for now, don’t walk alone at night and keep your smarts about you.” “Hey... that’s you!” You looked at him in shock. Your bosses face popped up on the screen next to the news reported who was interviewing the electric hero. “Wh-why is my boss on there?” 

Denk sat up and put a hand on your back. “That’s... that’s the victim I found on the south side of town today.” Your eyes teared up and you gripped onto Denki. He pulled you into a hug and you shook in his arms. “Why would somebody kill him? I mean he could be a jerk to work with, but nothing to murder someone over.” 

Denki tensed up a bit. The fact that you were in his arms, this should be the best day of his life but you seem... upset?

You pulled away from him and looked up with puffy red cheeks. “Denki I’m scared. A woman on the third floor is missing, and- and the mechanic from IT was found with his throat cut a month ago.” You stood up and paced the floor. “Not to mention my-my...” You stopped talking and crumbled back into Denki’s arms. “I can’t do this, I know this sounds ridiculous but I feel like I’m in danger.”

“You can’t be alone right now...” Denki rubbed your back and cradled you. “I think you should come stay with me for a little while...” 

“Wh-what?” You asked confused. Denki touched your face softly and gave your side a playful shock. You giggled and he hugged you again. After a moment he touched your shoulders firmly and looked you in the eye. “If you think you’re in danger, you should come stay at my place. It’s in a nicer part of the city, and I can keep an eye on you.” 

You thought for a minute. Your boyfriend has only been dead for six months, but in that time you and Denki had gotten really close. Like he was sent by an angel to help you. “I really appreciate it, but I should probably stay here. I think it would silly for me to pack everything up and run, I mean nothing is going to happen to me, right?” 

Denki smirked, but he wasn’t happy. “Are you serious right now Y/N?” 

His tone change surprised you and you stepped away from him in reflex. “What’s wrong?” You picked up your glass of wine that you had been neglecting and took a big sip. You’ve never really been a huge drinker, but the bitter taste gave you something to focus on.

“What’s wrong? What’s wrong!?” Denki gripped his hair and smiled at you. “You don’t understand what I’ve been doing for you. I really stick my neck out for you, and you never seem to care about how it makes ME feel.” He crossed his arms and shook his head. “I- I’m sorry I know you’re busy but I thought we...” You didn’t know what the two of you are. He mostly kept your relationship a secret, he didn’t want you to be in the press at all. But you felt like the two of you are really close, you’d never take advantage of him.

“You still don’t get it do you? Everything I do is to make you happy. Make your life easier, and you don’t even seem to notice.” 

He took his jacket off and threw it on the couch. You took another step away from him and gripped your wine glass harder. You’d never seen him act this way before. You took another gulp.

“D-denki there’s something on your shirt.” He looked down, he hadn’t noticed but a few specks of blood had gotten on his ribs. You stepped closer and grabbed it, gently touching the blood stain. “I-is this from work?” You asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Denki said nothing, he reached out and touched your shoulder. 

His hands smelled like bleach.

“I think you... you should go.” You said trying to sound firm, swallowing the rest of your wine. 

“I think I should stay the night, you look tired.” He said in a soft voice. 

Your head was swimming, your eyes feeling very heavy all of a sudden. 

You looked down at the table and saw that he hadn’t taken one sip of his drink, which wasn’t really like him.

“Denki what did you do?” You stumbled backwards and dropped the glass onto the floor.  You reached for your cell phone but dropped it before losing control of your legs. He smiled and caught you in his arms. He planted a kiss on your forehead. “Denki did you kill my boss?” You tried to cry out but you couldn’t move, he lifted you into his arms. “Oh honey, shhhhh.” He laid you on the couch. He didn’t have long to pack some of your things up and scrub any trace of him ever being here. “I was hoping you’d be more understanding, happy even that I removed all of these messes from your life.”

You choked on your words and fought to keep your eyes open. “All of these-?” 

No he didn’t mean... 

Denki crouched down beside you spoke softly. “That boyfriend of yours? He didn’t even yell out for you when he was dying on the sidewalk. He said that other girls name... my blood boiled, how could he not see that he had the most perfect woman in the world waiting for him at home?” He scoffed. “That’s when I stomped out his teeth. He didn’t deserve to ever say your name anyway.” Denki stuck his tongue out at you, showing off his teeth. You wanted to scream, but your eyes shut. 

You felt his lips touch yours, before everything was black.

I didn’t put the lyrics in here but I definitely alluded to just about all of them. What did you think?? I had fun writing this one. 

[siilvers-blog]

twinkie obession ;

pairing : peter maximoff x gn ! reader word count : 1 951 note : soulmate au where you can taste whatever your soulmate is eating at that moment . and my baby boy is too good for this world . i wanted to write something like more grandiose , but for now this dumb soulmate au will do ! feedback is appreciated <33 requests are super open btw so if u sent in any ,,, peter stuff ,,, we’d be grateful ( moreso me , but whatever haha !! ) - mod em ( under the cut for length ) 

For as long as you could remember, you’d feel the taste of twinkies in your mouth. When you were young, the taste would be occasional and welcome, but around your early teens it began to plague you every single day. Eventually, even looking at twinkies made you feel sick to your stomach and, god, you couldn’t understand how the hell your stupid soulmate could eat a whole batch of them every day. It was kind of admirable, the fact that they could eat the same exact thing so often and not throw up, but your burning hatred overshadowed whatever respect you had for them.

Hate would’ve been a strong word for the first month of non-stop twinkies, somehow you thought you’d manage. But one day it felt as if twinkies were all your soulmate was consuming. That, topped by a bad grade on one of your essays made you reduce your desk into ash in front of your whole class. And that was how you found out you were a mutant; the same exact day all your friends deemed you a freak (some friends) and the same exact day all you could taste were twinkies.

And it was safe to say you hated your soulmate. Which was fine. He’d hate you too if he knew you were a mutant.

You beat yourself up for years for being a mutant, refusing to interact with most people in fear you’d burn them as quickly as you burned your desk that day. Your parents would always try to console you, tell you that you were perfectly fine, that you’d become something great one day. But after your graduation, you came to find that people didn’t really want to hire mutants that much, especially those with an unpredictable and flaming personality. So, you accepted the reality that you’d just have to live with your parents forever, that your soulmate was off somewhere being all happy and eating twinkies, and that you’d never even meet them because you were, what society deemed, disgusting.

Not that eating twinkies every day was any better.

But life of a mutant wasn’t as black and white as you thought, as now you were standing right in front of the famous Charles Xavior school for the gifted with a suitcase in hand. Just a few days back you had burst into tears after receiving an invitation and now you could barely hold them back at the sight of it. Finally, you though, your life was going to turn for the better. You were about to step foot inside, but you suddenly felt someone run past you and into the mansion. Felt; it was an odd word to describe someone who was probably running, but you literally only saw a flash of silver skim past you insanely fast and you just assumed that it was a mutant with super speed. Oh, and the fact that this mystery mutant bumped into you and now you were falling backwards also factored into your deduction. Were you going to tumble down the fancy porch stairs on your first day here? Yeah. Were you still happy with the fact you were here, that there were already careless people bumping into you and not minding their mutations? Extremely and your sudden grin proudly showed that off.

Yet you didn’t have the chance to fall, another mutant teleported by your side and grabbed you by your forearms, looking at you with concern. He was…blue and he had three fingers on each hand, and a tail, and he just teleported in front of you, and, wow, you were so happy to be here.

“Hi!” You couldn’t help but beam at him, despite the fact that he was the only thing preventing you from crashing down. “I’m (Y/N)!”

You noticed the stranger opened his mouth to speak, but quickly shut it upon noticing something…someone behind you – someone else, who was now pushing you back up to your feet with a giggle.

“Sorry about Peter, er, the guy who almost knocked you down here!” You heard the person behind you say. “We were supposed to show you around, but Peter’s awfully impatient so he said that the last person here was gonna show you around and ran off.”

“I’m Jubilee!” She was now in front of you, grinning and waving. “We’re super glad you’re here, actually, I’m sure you’ll have a chance to get back at Peter for being such an idiot!” She then pointed at the blue mutant who was still holding your arms. “That’s Kurt!”

“Guten tag!” He grinned and let go of you to wave with both of his hands. “It is very nice to meet you!”

And you could’ve sworn you’ve never felt more at home than now. Kurt was gracious enough to teleport all your stuff into your room before he and Jubilee began the tour. It was very extensive, they insisted they weren’t going to leave you to your own devices until you knew exactly where everything was, even if it took the entire day to show you around. You even met some others along the way, like Scott and Jean, who you learned were soulmates. Jean complained about some food she didn’t like that Scott absolutely loved and you shared a laugh, even feeling comfortable enough to mention that all your soulmate seems to eat is twinkies and how much it annoys you. They shared a look as you said that, it almost seemed like a knowing look, before Jean told you how much that must suck and took her leave with Scott. Eventually, you circled back to your room, a little sad that the day was coming to an end, but excited because this was your life now. You had a place where everyone accepted you for what you were and-

Oh god, that god-awful taste of twinkies was in your mouth again. Just as you thought your soulmate wouldn’t eat any today.

“Jubilee, wait!” She turned to you once you had called for her, still smiling. “Everything in the kitchen is…free to take, right?”

She snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous, of course it is! Everything is everyone’s, you’re free to take anything anytime!”

Exhaling, you raced past her, yelling out a “thanks” and “see you later!” as you ran. You thought you’d at least try to drown out the taste, even if it didn’t work most of the time, if anything, you might inconvenience your soulmate a little bit by eating something else. Like a fruit for a change!

As you finally reached the kitchen, you exhaled in relief upon finding it was empty. You were a bit worn out from the excitement of today and you didn’t want to seem weird in front of anyone, especially with how frantically you looked around the kitchen for something juicy and sweet. Ah, that apple sat in a basket in the middle of the counter made your mouth water! In fact, at this point, anything that wasn’t a twinkie made your mouth water.

“Ah, so good…” You muttered to yourself after taking a bite, feeling the taste of the twinkie disappear and be replaced with that of an apple.

“You a telepath, or are you just talking to yourself here?”

You nearly choked on your treat after hearing the unfamiliar voice so suddenly and nearly choked again after the owner of it appeared in front of you in a blur. Silver, he must’ve been the mutant who nearly knocked you over - Peter.

“Talking to myself, relishing in how good this apple is, mostly.” You shrugged, a small smile on your face. “What brings you here?”

He was no longer in front of you, instead opening the fridge door. Witnessing someone utilizing their mutation for such mundane things brought a smile to your face. It was quickly wiped though, seeing as how he had pulled out a twinkie from the fridge and waved it around.

“Hungry, soulmate’s not munching on something too tasty right now.” He said, unwrapping that godforsaken thing and tilting his head after you had turned away. “What’s wrong? Am I too attractive for the eyes of a newbie?”

“Nope, I just hate twinkies.” Biting the apple, you shook your head. “My soulmate eats them, like, every day and I can’t stand it. I’m convinced they’re insane.”

Peter fell silent and you were almost concerned that he ran off after you had declared you hated twinkies. Maybe he just held a deep love for them. Did you offend him, perhaps? You turned back and as soon as you did, he bit down on the twinkie, staring right in your eyes. And then you felt the all-too-familiar twinkie taste. And then you realized.

“Oh my god…” You breathed, slamming the half-eaten apple back on the counter. “It’s you!”

You didn’t quite understand why your heart started beating so fast at the sight of him eating that damned twinkie and grinning at you like an idiot. You didn’t understand why suddenly you felt so…anxious, why you were scared to move. This was it, you always visualized meeting your soulmate and then hitting them over and over again for making your life a living hell just by eating twinkies, but all you could do now was stare.

“Y-You���re a mutant!” You choked out, hands flying to cover your gaping mouth. In reality, you just tried to hide the smile growing on your face because you were supposed to hate this guy. “Like me!”

“Yeah, a freak, if you will.” He chuckled, licking his fingers after just finishing this twinkie. “That’s why I’m here, just like you.” He pointed at you, but really, he was trying his hardest not to run up to you and spin you around. Then you’d really think he was insane.

Could you blame him though? He also didn’t think his soulmate would be a mutant too, the chances were just too slim.

“I can’t believe this!” With quick steps, you walked up to him and proceeded to punch his chest lightly, light-heartedly, which was proved by how much you were giggling. “I hate you, you know! Do you have any idea how much you made me hate twinkies? I was literally so annoyed one day, I burned down my desk at school!”

Peter laughed; it was cute. “You don’t really sound like you hate me.” He grabbed your wrists, grinning down at you. “But it’s charming to see you pretend that you’re totally not head over heels for me right now.”

“I am not!” You shook your head, a grin of your own decorating your features. “I am extremely annoyed! Especially at the fact that my soulmate is some maniac who looks dumb and thinks that eating twinkies everyday is good for him!”

“Well,” he began slyly. “I’m sure we can discuss my new diet plan during a date.”

“Peter, you are insufferable.” You paused. “But I suppose we could talk about your twinkie addiction sometime.”

His smile fell for a moment. “Hey…what’s your name again?”

You snorted, light giggles eventually escalating into a laugh that made Peter smile softly. Still laughing, you placed your head on his chest, making him turn slightly red, unbeknownst to you. You had already forgotten that you could feel the taste of that twinkie he had eaten moments ago. Perhaps you were just too overjoyed to remember all the downsides of having this dummy as your soulmate. Sure, all he ate was twinkies, but he was a mutant too, which instantly meant he wouldn’t hate you for your mutation. And he looked dumb, which was charming, you thought.

Well, you supposed you’ll just have to deal with the twinkies, since your soulmate wasn’t that bad.

[hockeytrashgoblin]

Ice Cold ~Part 5

A/N: A double update for yall tonight! I hope you guys are enjoying. It’ll really pick up after this chapter! 

William’s POV (just trying it. One more chapter is planned to have his POV but let me know if you like it and want more!)

"William you're dumb."

"Shut up Auston, you don't know anything!"

"I know enough that you're going to fuck this all up for us."

"I'm not fucking up anything." 

We were all out in the woods hunting. Animal blood was shitty but at least we got the thrill of the chase before we could get blood bags to satisfy the real thirst to be around humans. We were having fun until Auston decided to stop me.

"You're being selfish." He roared at me, his eyes turning black and veined. "We finally have a good life and you're willing to risk it all for some dumb fucking girl."

"Auston calm down." Morgan said earning a look of hatred from the other boy. "Now."

"This is such bullshit!"

"Auston. This isn't up for discussion. You know what I saw."

"She's not that bad dude." Kasperi said coming out of nowhere with Mitch.

"I don't give a fuck about any of this. She's a threat."

"She's my soulmate." I snarled pushing him to the ground. "You're just upset because you haven't found yours yet."

"Shut the fuck up! I don't care. I care about a weak little human who will react who knows what way to us b-"

"Morgan knows you idiot! He saw it. She's not going to react badly."

"Why are we even giving her a chance to react at all?" 

"Auston that's enough." Morgan yelled, silencing everyone. "You're behaving like a child. You have been the whole time and it's getting old, fast. As if William isn't having a hard enough time without you making it harder."

"Oh and by the way Aus, you should really stop following us around. She's noticed."

"There's no way she noticed."

"Listen you cocky little shit. She's talked to me about it. She's uncomfortable."

"Auston you promised us you wouldn't do that!" Mitch said hurt that his friend lied. Mitch always was the most sensitive person, especially towards Auston.

"I'm sorry Mitchy, but what if-"

"No Aus. You're supposed to trust Willy. You're supposed to trust Morgan, all of us actually. If you don't trust us what do we have? Nothing. And trying to keep him from his soulmate? That's so fucking low."

"Mitch I do trust you guys. I don't trust her."

"She's got a name." I mumbled.

"I don't care."

"I'm going to tell her Auston. I don't care if you give me the okay at this point. It's been 3 months and I'm sick of the secrets. If you can't get behind me finding true love and happiness, then you can just keep it to yourself."

"That's beyond stupid. He's created a new kind of stupid."

"Shut the fuck up you salty bitch!" Mitch practically screamed.

"I'm sick of this arguing. We're going home now." Morgan said starting to leave. "And if I find out that either of you killed each other to not deal with the other, I will kill both of you."

We all dispersed after that. I was beyond angry and took off. Just running, no particular destination, just going. I would never understand why Auston was acting like this. He's never been so broody and grumpy in the past few years I've known him. I hope Mitch could calm him down or talk some sense into him or something.

After a while I decided to head back home. I made sure that there was no blood on my face or anything and headed out. 

I didn't notice I was walking past (y/n)'s work until I smelled her. My senses were so intune with everything about her, if I concentrated I could hear her laughing with Amy inside. It made me smile hearing her get closer. I decided to wait for them and say hi. My still heart felt like it soared when she finally walked out. It only took a second for her to see me and come running up. She gave me a kiss and a hug that warmed me up completely.

"Hi." She said with a sweet smile.

"Hi baby." I wrapped my arm around her shoulder. "Hi Amy."

"Hey Will, we were just about to meet up with Mitchell for dinner if you want to join us?"

"Yeah sure I'd like that!"

We walked only a short way before we got to a little vegan restaurant. It was a really beautiful place. It was crawling with hipsters and elegant looking snobs. I didn't see the big deal about eating meat personally but I can't really complain since I don't eat a lot of human food.

We were seated quickly and the service was lovely. The food was also good. But I enjoyed watching (y/n) giggling and having fun with her friends. It was incredibly cute. She kept looking at me with these big happy eyes that made me feel like I was flying.

"What are you looking at?" She asked with a blush coating her cheeks.

"You. I'm just wondering what I did to get you to look at me with such beautiful eyes. I was just thinking I'm lucky."

"Stop doing the voice!" She accused blushing harder hitting my shoulder. I laughed at her.

"I don't even know I'm doing it until you say something." 

"I feel like that's a lie."

"Why?"

"You've got mischief in those eyes Willy."

"You guys are so cute." Mitchell said interrupting us. I almost forgot they were sitting there.

"Thank you." She replied quietly blushing.

"Don't get all shy, you are! You guys have such a sweet relationship." Amy said smiling at me.

"I just want to make her happy."

"Stooop!" (Y/n) said hiding her face against my shoulder. She looked up and smiled. "I wanna make you happy."

"You do." I kissed her forehead before looking back at the menu. "Does anyone want dessert?"

"No we're okay. We were about to get our check and head out."

"Don't worry about the bill, I'll cover it."

"Oh William you don't have to do that! We didn't invite you out so that you'd pay.."

"I know you didn't. It's no problem, honest. I just want to do something nice for you guys."

"Are you sure?" Mitchell said still looking very unsure.

"Absolutely positive. You guys go ahead."

"Alright I guess. It was nice meeting you William, nice seeing you again (y/n)."

"You too! I'll see you Saturday! Amy I'll see you tomorrow. We're meeting at the arena right?"

"Yep! I'll see you then!"

With that they left us there alone. I couldn't help but stare at her while she looked at deserts. I was in a trance until the waitress interrupted.

"Would you like any dessert?" She asked putting her hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off but she put it back. I rolled my eyes at her disrespect.

"I don't but she would."

"What would she like?"

"Maybe you should ask her." I said losing the smile. She did the same and rolled her eyes towards (y/n).

"What do you want?"

"Willy I-" she looked really uncomfortable and it made me upset.

"Well? What do you want?"

"I um-"

"Spit it out."

"We'll take the bill please. We're not going to sit here and be treated this way." I said speaking up for my sweet girl.

"Oh um alright." She gave me the bill and left quickly. I put some money down and stood up with her coat to slip over her shoulders.

"Let's go baby, we can stop somewhere for dessert if you want something." I took her hand and led her out. She was still quiet. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Are you sure? You seem upset."

"It's dumb, just forget about it."

"Hey, don't say that. It's not dumb if it's bothering you." I pulled her over to a bench when I sat down and pulled her to sit on my lap. "Tell me what's bothering you."

"It was just that girl."

"I'm sorry she was so rude to you."

"It's not even that. I didn't like her flirting with you. I'm sorry I told you it's dumb."

"Is that what she was doing? I thought she was just being annoying."

"Will." She whined.

"I'm sorry darling but I really don't care. She could've been standing there naked and she couldn't have stolen my attention from you." She looked at me quietly for a minute and I was worried about what she was thinking before she broke into a big smile.

"I love you. I know that it's crazy early and you absolutely don't have to say it back, I just needed to say it. But please say something because my anxiety is threw the fucking roof right now." She said with a nervous laugh. I could hear how fast her heart was beating and it made me worried for a second before I realized it was just her normal heart racing. Funny that my lovely little human had a normal racing heartbeat.

"Do you honestly think for a second that I haven't completely fallen for you?"

"I don't know."

"Stop with your insecurities. I love you. As cliche as it sounds this was a love at first sight kind of thing for me."

"Me too." She said smiling super big.

"Let's walk." I said lifting us both off the bench making her squeal.

"Willy put me down!"

"Never."

"William!"

"Fine, fine." I gave her a long kiss before setting her down just for her to stumble. "Watch out bambi."

"Shut the fuck up. You can't kiss me like that and expect me to not be affected." She grumbled, taking my hand.

What happened next happened in slow motion for me, which was really saying something because everything usually moves really fast. A car slipping on slush, (y/n) turning in fear to see the car coming towards us, me pulling her to the other side of me, covering her body as the car crushed into mine. All slow motion. I was so terrified of losing her that I completely threw caution to the wind to save her. I looked around but we were on a pretty empty street. The driver was alive but unconscious. I looked down to (y/n) and she was just staring at me. I stared back not knowing what to say at all.

"Did you just pull an Edward Cullen on me?"

"No don't be ridiculous. Do you need to go to a doctor?"

"No I'm okay."

"We should check your head."

"No."

"Stubborn." I muttered, calling Morgan. She fell asleep. "Morgan I need you to come here right now. I fucked up."