#so anyway seeing one punch man as number 3 was surprising and a breath of fresh air

[cypresstrees]

at work today i did an analysis to get the top 100 most checked out titles by our patrons in 2022 for a display next month and for the most part they’re exactly the mainstream traditional bestseller titles you’d expect from a mostly white mostly middle aged mostly boring suburban population, but shoutout to one punch man for making the third spot and changing things up a bit

[barnesmurdock]

Late nights and rooftops.

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Vigilante!Reader

Summary: The Devil of Hell's Kitchen is a pain in the ass, but he's always there when you need him. You just wished he'd let you know who he was.

Word count: 2224

Warnings: fluff, depictions of violence but nothing graphic, things get steamy but no smut (making out, grinding).

A/N: You guys this is a bit of a mess ksndkskfkd I've been having a hard time writing but I still wanted to finish this. Definitely not my best but here it is anyway.

Please consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed it <3

Masterlist

Matt was in the middle of jumping from one rooftop to the other when a waft of your smell hit him, distracting him just enough to land terribly on the next roof. Your scent was mixed with adrenaline, sweat and gunpowder. He huffed as he pulled himself up, pausing to hear closely where you were.

You were fighting someone here.

Again.

He started heading to your direction, getting increasingly worried as he got closer.

He could hear at least 4 people around you, grunts, pants, hits and bones breaking.

And he could smell blood.

Suddenly, he could feel his heart thumping anxiously on his throat as he tried to get there faster, relief washing over him when he realized it wasn't yours.

Sweat was starting to pool on your back and drip down your brow, your ribs aching from a nasty kick.

There were already 2 men down, but you were starting to think it had been a bad idea to come alone.

You couldn't have called him anyway, you didn't have his number, but you still hoped he'd hear trouble your way and came to help.

Shaking your head to refocus, you dodged a punch and managed to grab the guy, grabbing a knife from its sheath on your back and putting it on his throat, ready to slash it open.

"Don't do that!" A voice shouted from your left as he grabbed the other man's gun and tossed it away before he started to fight him.

He was there.

The Devil had come to the rescue.

"Fuck!" You hesitated for a second before deciding to put the knife away, kicking the guy behind his knee so he would fall down, kicking his head afterwards, making him drop knocked out on the floor. You had no problem killing men like the ones you were up against, but you knew it would upset him and last time you had to hear disappointment in his voice it affected you more than you would've liked.

"What are you even doing here?" You said as you tried to catch your breath a bit, seeing he had his guy under control. Yeah, you were wishing he would appear a minute ago but you weren't gonna let him know that.

"This is my city." He grunted, the guy he was fighting dropping to the floor, probably unconscious.

"Didn't know they made you mayor." You huffed a chuckle, making the corner of his mouth curl in amusement. There it was, that fucking smirk.

That was cut short when one of the guys you had put down first went to grab your ankle and pulled you down with him, making you drop face first to the ground.

You started kicking him so he would let you go, but he went limp before you got any good kicks in.

The Devil had struck him in the head with one of his billy clubs.

"Are you okay?" He asked, getting on one knee to check on you.

"And that's not gonna kill him?" You retorted, accepting his hand to pull you up.

He stayed silent for a moment, subtly tilting his head to the side before looking back at your direction to answer.

“Concussion, he’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes and sighed, drying the sweat from your forehead with the back of your hand.

“Tell me what happened.” The masked man said, ignoring your snarky response.

“I thought you would've left by now.” Matt said as he appeared from the fire escape with a smile inevitably forming on his lips, surprised to find you waiting for him with two cups of coffee next to you.

“You’re annoying but you saved my ass and I know you’re not done for the night, so I figured I could go get you a coffee while you dropped those idiots at the police station.” You shrugged nonchalantly, grabbing one of the paper cups and handing it to him once he was next to you.

“Thank you.” He offered you a soft smile as he took the coffee, sitting down beside you, close enough for your shoulders to brush. "You should go home, though. I know your ribs are killing you now the adrenaline has worn off."

"Don't- Don't listen to my body! That has to be some sort of…invasion of privacy or something!" You groaned as you pushed him away from you with your elbow.

The Devil laughed, throwing his head back, and you couldn't help but stare. He had a beautiful smile. You had never seen him without that ridiculous horned mask but just seeing his mouth was enough for your chest to feel warm and tight every time you saw him.

"I'm afraid there's no law that regulates that." He said once he settled, his head slightly tilted towards you. He worried about you and checking for injuries was both for your well-being /and/ his peace of mind.

"I would never have guessed the Devil would care so much about the law." You quipped, the side of your lip tugging upwards before you drank from your cup.

"Perhaps I am the mayor after all." He quipped back, referring to what you'd said earlier.

"You're definitely NOT." You exclaimed while you laughed. "You look nothing like him, from what I can see."

"You don't know what I look like." He pointed out, an amused smile on his lips.

"Yeah, because you won't let me, which is unfair because you know how I look." You sighed, pausing for a moment. You didn't even know he was blind."But still, your lips are way prettier than the mayor's… And you don't sound like him." You explained with a cheeky smile, lifting your hand so the back of your gloved fingers caressed his stubbled cheek, making him lean against your touch.

Matt was about to say something, but you continued speaking.

"So, if you care so much about the law and you're not the mayor… and you're also not a cop because you wouldn't be doing this if you were…" You made a pause, tapping your chin with your finger as you pretended to think. "You have to be a very concerned citizen, or some judge… No, no! a lawy-"

You were both teasing him and trying to find out something more about him, but the thought left your mind the moment he cut you off with a kiss. His own gloved hand gently but firmly holding your jaw as his lips crashed against yours.

Matt had to shut you up and make you forget about what you were saying or the conversation would take a turn he wasn't prepared for yet. It also wasn't like he hadn't been thinking about kissing you from the moment he realized you had stayed waiting for him, this is how the last few nights you stumbled upon each other ended, desperately making out on some roof until one of you calmed down and he came back to his senses.

You were no stranger to the taste of his lips, to how it felt to have him pressed against you, his tongue brushing against yours.

As the kiss heated up, you grew desperate to feel him closer, hastily grabbing his suit before he picked up on what you wanted and moved you to straddle him, his hand going back to your neck to hold your jaw.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, resting a hand on the back of his head and wishing you could bury your fingers in his hair (if he had any, you had no idea).

You wished he would just show you his face. Hell, you didn’t even know his name, you just called him Devil. It was getting ridiculous. You just knew the sound of his voice, the way it felt to be in his arms, that he always came when you were in trouble, that it annoyed you to no end how your heart went wild on your chest everytime he smiled and that expressionless, scary, stupid devil mask.

And, perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps he didn’t want you to know the man under the mask. Because, if you knew, then whatever this thing between you was, it might become something too real.

Perhaps Matt would have to admit he liked you more than you pissed him off, that he thought about you during the day and wondered what you were doing, what you did for a living, that he’d like to meet with you under different circumstances.

He knew you felt the same, as much as you pretended to be pissed every single time he showed up, he picked up on it a while ago on how you tried to learn more about him in between your discussions on how to approach vigilantism, your fake annoyance and your teasing.

Matt didn't think he was ready for that. He redirected conversations and avoided your questions esch time, only to regret it once he got home.

Reluctantly, you broke the kiss in need to breathe, the Devil's lips searching for yours, landing a sloppy kiss on your chin that made you giggle. A giggle that died down once his mouth kept moving down your neck, kissing and sucking at your throat.

He loved your smell and the taste of your skin, the way your pulse fluttered against his lips and the sounds you made because of him. He couldn't help but want more and more and more.

You pressed yourself closer to him, whimpering when you tentatively rolled your hips against him to get some friction to get some relief.

He grunted against your neck, biting down on your pulse and tightening the hold on your waist in response to grind your hips down harder against him.

"Devil…" You breathed out, your hands moving to grab his shoulders to stop him.

He hummed in response, lapping at your pulse to soothe the bite mark he left there while he urged you to move your hips again.

"I know, I know..." You sighed, gently pushing his shoulders away to put some distance, cradling his face between your hands afterwards. "I want it too… But not like this… You haven't even told me your name." You nuzzled against the shape of his nose on the mask, leaving a series of soft kisses on his parted, kiss-swollen lips.

As turned on as he got you every time you two made out, you really did not want to have sex with him without even knowing who he was, without being able to see his face.

Matt's shoulders sagged as he sighed, nodding in agreement. He turned his head to kiss the palm of your hand, tasting the leather of your glove and pressing his face against it for a second before straightening up, the hand he had on your jaw rubbing a soothing thumb against your cheek before pulling it away.

"I'm sorry, you're right." He said, leaving a small kiss on your lips before holding you to stand up, carefully putting you down and releasing you.

"You're leaving already?" You asked, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at the blank red eyes of his mask, your voice sounding a bit hurt even if you tried to push it to the side. It was stupid, you already knew he couldn't stay long, but you stilled wished that he did.

"I don't want to." He rushed to say, his hand finding yours to hold it, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. "But I should get back to it."

You took a deep breath to sigh, your ribs aching with it and making you wince and curse under your breath. The Devil brought the hand he was holding to his lips, kissing your gloved knuckles before rubbing them with his thumb.

"And you should go home to rest for the night."

"Yeah, I should. I have a long way home from here." You nodded, your lips forming a tight lip smile as you reluctantly agreed. You didn't even live in Hell's Kitchen, you'd told him that.

Matt leaned in for a goodbye kiss, softly brushing his lips against yours in a slower, gentler kiss than before.

You rested your free hand on his chest, leaning into the kiss and giving him a couple more before pulling away.

"When are you gonna let me meet the man behind the mask?" You asked one more time, knowing today wouldn't be the day.

"Someday."

"God, you're so frustrating!" You groaned, taking a step back and trying to free your hand from his grasp, only for him to tug on it to bring you closer.

He wrapped his free arm around you, keeping you in place. "And yet… you still like me." He whispered against your ear, a smirk appearing on his lips.

"And it pisses me off!" You exclaimed, trying to break free from his hug.

He decided to leave a kiss on your temple and let you go, not wanting you to hurt yourself further.

"Have a good night, Y/n." He waved at you as he started walking backwards with a small smile on his face.

"Oh fuck off!" You flipped him off, watching him walk towards the edge of the building. "Be safe, though!"

Once he was close enough to jump, he turned around to face the nearest building, turning his head to you before he jumped to say, "It's Matt, by the way."

• PART 2 •

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

[polaroid15]

Parker Luck

Summary: Two weeks after the Vulture-incident, Tony buys a parenting book. Too bad there isn't a chapter on Parker luck.

Read on Ao3 HERE :)

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Two weeks after the Vulture fiasco, Tony buys a book called ‘Parenting for Dummies’.

He almost immediately regrets the purchase and hides it in a drawer in the lab, not yet brave enough to face it. Then one day he spends three hours squished against Peter’s side, listening to the boy ramble about everything under the sun while they adjust his web shooters. It hits Tony like a brick wall, and when Peter bounces out of the lab after teaching Tony a complicated handshake he knows he’ll never remember, he swears under his breath.

He shouldn’t be surprised, really. He had known it from that very first moment in the kid’s bedroom in Queens.

For once, denial has gotten him nowhere.

After his eyes ache from staring at the door Peter had disappeared from, Tony stands, stretches out a kink in his lower back, and grabs the book from the drawer before he can lose his nerve. Still standing, he traces his thumb over the word Parenting on the cover.

Retreat, his mind begs. Stop. Before it’s too late.

But deep down, he knows he’s already in too deep.

With a heavy sigh and a pressing warmth in his chest, Tony flips the pages to chapter one.

--------

Peter calls it ‘Parker luck’.

Tony calls it the source of his ever-increasing gray hair.

When Peter stumbles into the Tower covered in blood and delirious from a nasty hit to the head, Tony thinks he’ll pass out from the sudden weight of his worry. It only takes some gentle coaxing and seven stitches to make it better, but the unease sits in Tony’s gut long after Peter falls asleep. When the boy wakes up, he apologizes until Tony snaps at him not too.

“It’s the Parker luck, Mr. Stark,” Peter tells him, his head wrapped like a mummy on halloween. “It gets me everytime.”

Parenting for Dummies Chapter Three: Listen. “A nasty concussion doesn’t exactly sound like luck to me, kid.”

“Oh, well it’s not good luck,” Peter clarifies with a weak smile. “In fact it’s really bad luck. Exceptionally bad.”

“You’re killing me here.”

“Did you know that I slipped on a banana peel once? A banana peel. I was on crutches for three weeks in middle school.”

Tony’s worry melts into a hesitant amusement. He sits back on his stiff medbay chair and makes a distant note to invest in a better one. “That is pretty lousy luck, kiddo.”

“And it just keeps getting worse,” Peter says. “Getting bitten by a radioactive spider, crashing Flash’s car, or the fact that I spent homecoming destroying a plane while fighting my date’s dad.”

“I hope this Parker luck of yours isn’t contagious,” Tony jokes, but something in Peter’s eyes darkens. He leans back against the white sheets, chewing on his bottom lip. Tony thinks again of chapter three, of the subtitle that prompts to push at the right times, and takes the liberty. “What is it, kid?”

Peter closes his eyes and gives a watery smile. “Nothing, Mr. Stark. Sorry.”

And because he’s an idiot, Tony believes him. Something tells him he needs to buy Parenting for Dummies 2.

--------

When Peter saves a school bus full of third graders from a thirteen car pileup at the expense of his collar bone, Tony rereads his book, this time with a highlighter in hand.

He wishes there was a section on Parker luck.

This time, he’s less careful about where he reads. Pepper catches him one night, her eyebrows disappearing behind her bangs in her surprise. Her smile is genuine. “Is that what I think it is?” she asks.

“Maybe.”

“Oh God, please don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Tony rolls his eyes and dog ears his page before setting it aside. “I am, actually. And sorry to break it to you, but you’re not the father.”

Pepper laughs and sits on the arm of the couch. She runs her hand through his hair and he can’t help but lean into her touch. “This is about Peter,” she says.

His first instinct is to deny it. He feels vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. “So what if it is?”

“He’s a good kid.”

“I know.”

“He’s making you soft.”

Tony scoffs, but doesn’t deny it. Not with Parenting for Dummies on his lap. “He’s stressing me out, is what he’s doing.”

“He really cares about you, Tony. I see it every time he’s over here.”

His body betrays him by the gentle swoop in his stomach. His mouth twitches in a smile. “I care about him too.”

“You’re a good example to him. He needs someone like you in his life. Especially after what happened to his parents. And his Uncle.”

And then it clicks. Parker luck. Tony’s mouth goes dry.

“I’m trying,” is all he manages to whisper. The book in his lap seems to increase by ten.

Pepper leans over him, pressing her lips into his hair. “I know.”

---------

It’s his and Peter’s fifth mission together.

Today, they’re going up against “the Detonator”, a crazed woman with an affinity for making bombs and setting them off in busy neighbourhoods. She’s armed with a team of rocket-launcher-wielding henchmen, and it’s taking every effort to keep the city in one piece.

Most of the block has been evacuated, thanks to Peter. Tony remembers chapter seven and shoots the boy some praise over their coms. Steve, who’s joined them for the day’s fight, agrees with clipped enthusiasm.

“Thanks guys!” Peter says in his usual animation. “These rocket launchers are no joke. Have you ever seen the movie-”

But whatever it is, it’s lost in the deafening sound of an explosion. He hears Peter swear over the com and Tony’s blood runs cold. Three blocks down, an orange fireball balloons into the air. Steve is already running, his shield tucked into his chest.

Tony shoots off into the sky.

---------

Peter thought they had everything under control.

Until rocket launcher man number 3 decided to explode the bank off 47th street, that is.

He feels the heat from the explosion before he can process what happened. It rips across his back and throws him off his feet into a hot dog cart across the street. Rubble and ash rain down on parked cars and their alarms begin to sound.

“Crap,” Peter groans, shoving away the dented cart and stumbling to his feet. His ears are ringing.

“Pete?” Tony’s voice cuts through the haze. “We’re on our way. You alright?”

“Yeah,” he responds, breathless. His shoulder aches. “These guys are not in a good mood.”

“You can say that again.”

The man who had fired the shot runs up the steps of the bank, bypassing chunks of concrete. Peter limps after him.

“Sorry man,” Peter says when his opponent’s back is still turned. “It’s after hours.”

Startled, the man spins. Peter fires a web to disarm him and it only takes one swift punch to finish the job. He webs him to the floor and kicks the rocket launcher into the corner.

“Kid?” Tony lands beside him, faceplate lifting and his hands reaching to grab onto him. His grip is tight on Peter’s arms, and Peter is unsure which one of them Tony is trying to comfort. “You still in one piece?”

Peter’s ears are still ringing, a high pitched whine that makes his eye twitch. His ankle throbs and he can feel warmth spreading down his back from a cut on his shoulder. He nods anyway. “Are you?”

“Better now that I see you haven’t been barbecued.”

Steve joins them as Peter laughs off Tony’s worry. He’s breathing heavy, his forehead streaked with ash. “Someone sighted the Detonator. She’s heading east towards the Empire State Building.”

“Of course she is,” Tony sighs. Finally, he lets Peter go. “Ready for a field trip?”

But just as he says it, another violent explosion lights up the street across from them. Peter stumbles against the force. Tony grabs his arm, and Steve his shoulder, and he steadies. Through the black smoke, a child cries.

Chest tight, Peter takes a step forward before he’s yanked back. It’s Tony. His helmet hides his expression, but Peter can tell from his stiff posture that he’s worried. That he doesn’t want to separate.

As if sensing it too, Steve places a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Peter and I will clear the rocket launchers. You go take care of the Detonator.”

“But-”

“She can’t get to it first, Tony. You’ll be the fastest.”

The crying continues, and Peter takes another step. This time, the metal fingers wrapped around his elbow loosen, letting him go. “You better watch him, Rogers.”

“Mr. Stark-”

“Don’t do anything stupid, kid.”

And then Tony is off, blasting off into the sky. Peter shivers against the hot air his exit leaves before turning to run towards the smoke and debris, Steve hot on his heels. Without hesitation, he jumps over the small flames and emerges on the other side, his throat closing up against the smoke.

The first thing Peter sees is the child, snot-nosed and hidden underneath the bed of a truck. His eyes widen when he sees them, a cry stopped short. “Spider-Man!” he yells.

“Get the kid,” Steve says. “I think I see our guy.”

And then he’s gone.

Peter doesn’t dwell on it, vaulting over a smashed mailbox and a stretch of broken glass to reach the kid’s side. He’s trembling, but his hands reach out. Trusting him.

“It’s alright,” Peter says, accepting the kid’s outstretched hands. “We’re okay. Do you know where your family is?”

The boy shakes his head, lip wobbling but obviously trying to be brave. “N-no. I lost them over there,” he says pointing down the street.

“Okay. No problem. Let’s go find them.”

He doesn’t give the boy an option to walk, but instead guides him to rest against his back. Small fingers lock together at the base of Peter’s throat, holding tight.

“What’s your name?” Peter asks as he heads in the direction the boy had pointed. Keep him distracted.

“Benny.”

Peter’s breath catches. “Nice to meet you, Benny. I’m Spider-Man.”

“I- I know.”

“Oh yeah?”

The boy’s head bobs against his back. “I see you on TV. And on the newspapers on the street. You fight bad guys.”

“I try too.”

“You’re awesome,” Benny says, and the shaking quality to his voice recedes.

“I think you’re the awesome one. You’re being so brave.”

“Brave?”

“Yeah, Benny. Even though it’s scary right now you’re still going.”

Benny sniffles. “Are you scared?”

“Nah,” Peter says. “I’ve got you to protect me.”

Against his back, Benny’s chest swells with a breath of a response, but before he can let the words lose a relieved cry erupts from their left. A woman in a pastel headscarf runs towards them, her arms outstretched. “Benny! My little Ben-”

“Mom!”

Peter maneuvers him to the ground and as soon as his small feet hit the ground he’s running. The pair meet in the middle of the street, their arms wrapping tight and their tears mixing. The mother’s eyes meet him from over Benny’s shoulder. “Thank you,” she says, every ounce of her emotion leaking into her words.

“Of course,” is all he can manage.

Once he’s sure they're safe and off the street, he deviates his attention to his coms. “Steve?” he asks over a private channel. “Where are you?”

For a long time, Steve doesn’t respond. Then just as Peter’s worry spikes the man’s voice fills his ears, pinched and strained. “By the river. I’m cornered.”

“Karen-” Peter starts, but Steve’s location pops up on his screen before he can ask further. He changes the trajectory of his swing and just barely avoids clipping his hip on the corner of a building. Then, to Steve, “I’m on my way!”

He finds the Captain in worse shape than he had expected. He’s hunched against an upturned car, it’s tires melted from the sheer heat of the destruction on the street. His shield is raised over his head to protect him from debris raining from the crumbling buildings.

Across the road, three of Detonator's accomplices are shooting the buildings around him, shrieking with glee whenever new glass shatters. Peter glides between the chaos before landing beside Steve. He scrapes his hands on the landing.

“Oh my god,” Peter says, flinching from another loud explosion. “What do we do?”

Steve grimaces, and it’s only now that Peter sees how messed up his leg is. It’s twisted at an unnatural angle, the material of his suit singed and still smoking around it.

“What the hell happened?” Peter gasps, feeling sick.

“It doesn’t matter. We need to get out of here.”

“Not with those crazy rocket guys standing guard. You can’t walk!”

“I can try.”

Adrenaline courses hot through Peter’s bloodstream. He peaks over the car and reassesses their opponents. “I can take them.”

“No. Tony said-”

“Tony isn’t here,” Peter argues. “Besides, I have my Peter tingle. I’ll be fine.”

“Peter tingle?”

“Be right back.”

“Wait!”

But Peter ducks out of cover, knowing that Steve won’t be able to stop him. He runs towards the one closest to him and hopes the element of surprise will be enough to take them down. It is, but barely, and now his cover is blown. The other two turn their weapons towards him and before he can suck in a breath, fire.

Peter swears and jumps high, the rockets whistling as they pass under his feet. They hit the edge of the sidewalk by the river, blowing it open and skipping chunks of debris into the water. Not wanting to wait for them to reload, Peter swings and takes them both out with a single kick. He lands in a messy roll, disoriented by the quickness of the fight.

“We’re clear!” he yells over to Steve, but even as he says it dread sits heavy in his gut. He takes one step towards the car before he hears it- a sharp release of air.

Fire blooms up at the base of the building closest to Steve, the crack of the impact enough to rattle Peter’s teeth and throw him to his knees. It’s the last straw. The building makes a horrible noise of grinding cement, like a scream, and Peter knows enough from experience that it’s close to collapse.

“Steve!”

He sprints to where the man is trying to limp away. His eyes find him, their blue shocking through the dust and smoke. “Peter. You have to get out of here-”

“Not without you.”

Before the man can object, Peter pulls his weight over his shoulder and makes it his burden. He wonders distantly where the fourth rocket launcher is and why they haven’t been blown sky high yet.

But then glass and cement falls down around them like rain, and Peter realizes. Because the building will finish the job for them.

“We’re not going to make it,” Steve says through ground teeth. His hold on Peter’s shoulder is bruising. “Peter, please.”

The building sways again. They have a couple seconds. Nothing more.

Then Peter sees it. A manhole.

“Here,” he gasps, dropping to his knees and tearing off the cover. Every alarm bell in his head is screaming, but it’s the only option. The only way they’ll both have a chance. “Go.”

Steve drops in, disappearing into darkness and landing below with an aborted shout. Peter kicks his legs in just as the building crumbles. Fear stops the breath in his chest and he slides the rest of the way in. He falls and lands hard, head spinning, before finding Steve’s arm in the darkness and pulling him deeper into the sewer.

There’s a couple moments of silence.

And then the world erupts.

Peter will remember later how the force of the impact threw both of them off their feet and how it was impossible to keep his grip on Steve’s arm. He’ll remember the deafening noise of the building smashing onto the street above them, of the great plume of dust that filled the tunnel and blinded him.

He’ll remember falling, his legs jelly, and struggling to his knees.

He’ll remember wishing he had called Tony.

But none of it registers in the moment. There’s only terror.

And then there’s nothing.

----------

“Peter. Come on. Work with me here.”

Awareness brings pain. He strays.

“Nope. No. Peter. Open your eyes.”

The voice belongs to Steve, Peter realizes in a stilted disorientation. Steve, who had been hurt. Steve, who sounds very much alive.

It’s enough for Peter to lift his heavy eyelids. His surroundings are dark, but he can see the Captain’s worried face swimming in front of him, warping in and out of focus as both of them release a breath of relief.

“Thank God,” Steve says.

“Are you okay?” Peter murmurs, surprised for a moment by how unwilling his vocal cords are to cooperate. There’s new blood on Steve’s face and the torso on his suit is torn.

“It’s you I’m more worried about.”

“Mm. Why?”

Steve might respond, but Peter doesn’t hear it, his awareness slipping like the close of a stage curtain. Strong hands shake him and the sting of his injuries are enough for him to struggle back into wakefulness.

“Stay awake, kid. Alright? Tony is on his way. Keep your eyes open.”

Peter didn’t remember closing his eyes, but sure enough, when he tries they open. “Tony?”

“He’ll be here soon.”

There’s a tightness in his chest, and Peter coughs against it. It sparks a sharp pain behind his ribs and he curls his fingers into the ground as Steve braces him by his shoulder. His ribs are definitely broken. His leg throbs and the skin on the right side of his face itches terribly with drying blood. He blinks a couple times to try and alleviate his double vision, but it does nothing.

“What happened?” Peter asks.

“You don’t remember?”

“Not really.”

Steve’s expression pinches like he’s just eaten something sour. “The building above us collapsed, but don’t worry about it too much. Tony will be here in a flash.”

Collapse. Peter sucks in a panicked breath and it makes him cough again. It hurts worse this time, and his vision goes gray. He comes back to himself in Steve’s lap, his whole body shuddering and then man’s hand clamped protectively against his back.

The new perspective shows Peter a growing red stain on the Captain’s side.

“Steve,” he gasps, uncoordinated fingers reaching out to press against the wound.

“It’s nothing.”

“It’s not- it’s not nothing-”

Before Steve can retaliate further, their coms crack back to life. Peter winces against it, his fingers reaching up to struggle with the edges of his mask. Steve pushes his hand away. “Leave it. It’s helping filter your air.”

“Peter? Rogers?” Tony’s voice comes through in a mess of static. It reminds Peter of Ben’s favorite radio station that had been broadcasted too far to have a good connection. “I’m here. Oh Christ, I’m here. Are you okay?”

“Steve’s hurt,” Peter mumbles. It’s important Tony knows.

“Rogers?”

“Just hurry, Tony,” Steve says. There’s a pressure in his voice that Peter’s too tired to translate.

“The explosion caused the river to flood. You’re under about three feet of water right now.”

“We’re airtight.”

“For now.”

Peter feels himself dip further into Steve’s lap and the man’s steadying hand is delayed. Weaker. “Peter? What did I tell you about staying awake.”

“What’s wrong with Peter?”

“Queens. I need you to put pressure on this for me. Don’t give up on me now.”

Peter groans. For once, he doesn’t care how young it makes him sound. He struggles up anyways and replaces his hand obediently over Steve’s side. It paints his hands red and he tries desperately not to think of Ben.

“Rogers-”

“I got it, Tony.”

There’s a weighted silence. Peter bites the inside of his cheek to keep himself lucid. The static in his brain reminds him of the time he had gotten stabbed, and wonders if he’s bleeding somewhere too.

“Okay. I found a weak spot. It shouldn’t cause too much damage. Are you ready?”

“Go for it.”

There’s another lurch of shifting rock. Peter can’t help but cry out, his muddled brain struggling to comprehend that this time, it’s to help. Then there’s a loud crash, a weak beam of sunlight, and the rush of water.

Within seconds, the cold spray is up to their waists. Peter grinds his teeth and squeezes his eyes shut against reflexive tears the biting temperature brings. It gives him a boost of adrenaline, and when he opens his eyes again, his vision is more clear.

Tony is with them moments later, hovering above the water. His hands reach for Peter, but Peter shys away. “Steve first,” he pleads. “He’s bleeding-”

“You’re bleeding too-” Tony starts, but even as he says it, Steve lists dangerously to the side. His face is pale, his breathing shallow. Tony catches him by the shoulder. “Don’t move,” he tells Peter, and works to lift Steve up towards the hole.

The water is up to Peter's chest now. It steals the breath from his lungs and he scrambles to stand. Somewhere in the journey the ground above him groans and he loses his footing. He hears Tony yell out for him, feels metal hands push him hard, and then he’s completely underwater. There’s more noise. More pain.

He breaks the surface, stuttering on his breath and his teeth clattering. More sunlight has entered the tunnel, and it’s easy to piece together what had happened.

“Tony!”

Peter fights against the current to reach his mentor’s side. His suit is pinned under a large slab of concrete by his left leg, the water already sloshing up to his neck. Peter practically collapses beside him and digs his fingers under the weight, but his ribs scream in protest so violently that his vision goes white.

“Easy!” Tony yells, catching him by his arms when he falters. “Kiddo, listen to me. The suit will let me breathe for a while. You need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. FRIDAY took some damage, but she’s recalibrating my boosters. I’ll be able to get out.”

“No,” Peter chokes, trying again to lift the concrete keeping Tony pinned. “I won’t leave without you.”

“Peter-”

“I’m not losing you too. I can’t- I can’t-”

Tony’s voice is more gentle, his hand reaching to cradle the side of Peter’s face. “Listen to me, bud. I know this is scary. But you have to trust me. You have to go. For me.”

Peter shudders. Feels hot tears pool under the tight confines of his mask. “Told you I have Parker luck,” he says.

Tony finds it within himself to laugh. The water is at their chins. “I know, kiddo. But you don’t have to be afraid anymore. We’ve got each other now.”

“Tony-”

“Go.”

The water rises over his mouth. He wouldn’t be able to answer even if he wanted to. Then Tony’s head is submerged, and icy terror closes around Peter’s heart.

He dives under and reaches once more for the weight on Tony’s leg. He pulls and struggles and feels Tony’s hands on his arms, trying to pry him off and pull him away. The light is gone in the murky water.

Please. Please.

The concrete shifts. It takes everything in Peter not to gasp out at the pain it causes, to waste the precious air he has left.

Please.

It shifts again. Tony has given up on trying to push him off and is instead helping to lift the weight. Just a little bit more.

Peter screams, tiny bubbles escaping and carrying whatever he had left away. His body loses strength just as the concrete is alleviated. He thinks he feels Tony’s hands close around his numb body. But really he can’t be sure.

Tony is safe.

And it’s all that matters.

-------

“Peter. Don’t do this.”

“Breathe, Queens. Oh God-”

“Steve. What do I- I can’t- I can’t-”

“Keep the compressions going, Tony. Keep going okay? Don’t stop.”

“I can’t do it without him. I need him, Steve. I need-”

“Keep it together. He’s going to be fine. Right, Peter? You’re going to be fine. You just have to breathe for us.”

“Kiddo. Baby. Please.”

It’s all water down a drain.

A swirling, murky mess.

And it takes Peter with it.

-------

Parenting for Dummies: Chapter 12.

Love them unconditionally.

Tony hasn’t left his kid’s side for hours. He’s been glued to him, the boy’s limp hand pressed between his own like a lifeline even when the doctor’s had worked to splint his leg. Every breath, every rise and fall of Peter’s chest is a miracle, and Tony stares at the heart monitor until his eyes burn.

May is dozing in a recliner in the corner, her glasses crooked on her face. It’s just nearing three in the morning.

There’s movement behind him, and Tony turns to find Steve. He’s traded his hospital gown for a pair of loose sweats and a white shirt, the skin on his arms wrapped with thick bandages. The Captain turns and sees May. When he speaks, his words are almost a whisper. “How is he?”

Tony shrugs, a sudden lump monopolizing in his throat. “He’ll be okay.”

“Has he woken up yet?”

“No.”

Steve sighs. He limps to Tony’s side, but still manages to keep some distance. “He was brave today.”

“If by brave you mean dumb, then yes.”

“He saved our lives. We both know that you wouldn’t have been able to blast out of there by yourself.”

Dread sits heavy in Tony’s gut, because it’s true. He would’ve said anything to get Peter to safety. His blasters weren’t recharging. Weren’t even close to functioning.

But the kid had been too selfless for his lie. Really, Tony shouldn’t be surprised.

And now every time he closes his eyes he sees Peter. Hurt, small, Peter. Jerking with the last of his energy to free Tony. Of going limp in the water, no more air leaving his lips and remaining totally unresponsive as Tony fought to return the life to him.

“I wish it didn’t have to be him,” Tony says.

“But it is. It was.”

“I know.”

Steve lays a hand on Tony’s shoulder. He’s too tired to flinch away from it. “Let me know when he wakes up.”

And then he leaves.

Tony runs his thumb over Peter’s knuckles. “Wake up,” he says. Pleads.

But with his usual stubbornness, Peter doesn’t show signs of waking for another hour. First his fingers twitch. Then he groans. His eyelids flutter and Tony nearly collapses in his relief. Soft and weary eyes turn to find him, and Peter’s lips turn into a smile.

“You’re okay,” he murmurs.

“You have no idea how angry I am with you right now,” Tony says, but any heat behind his words is lost behind his relief. Peter must see it because his smile only widens.

“You don’ look angry.”

“Furious?”

“Nope.”

“Enraged?”

Peter laughs, then winces. He looks down and notices Tony’s hand clamped on his own. “I’m really glad you’re okay.”

“Well, the feeling’s mutual.”

Peter looks up. Tony tightens his hold.

“Maybe I don’t have Parker luck after all.”

“We’re breaking the cycle,” Tony agrees. He lifts Peter’s hand and presses a firm kiss to the back of his hand. Peter smiles again.

“Pepper told me you bought a parenting book,” he says, eyes drooping.

“That woman is nothing but a liar.”

“Mm. I believe her.”

“Sorry to break it to you kid, but whoever would want to willingly parent a danger seeking, heart attack inducing kid like you would have to be crazy.”

Peter squeezes Tony’s hand. “Sorry to break it to you, but I guess that means you're crazy.”

Tony’s heart compresses with warmth. “Yeah kid,” he says, “I guess I am.”

And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[neoculturetravesty]

We met in online class - Part 8

Image adapted from here.

Pairing: Renjun x Reader Genre: College AU, romance, angst, fluff Warnings: Strong language, descriptions of anxiety and trauma response, a character gets Covid-19 Word Count: 3.8k

Navigation: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | You are on Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Last Part

A/N: The Dreamies are best friends and you can’t change my mind.

What do you do when everything that makes you a person starts to feel rudimentary? When you start to feel like an imposter in your own body? When nothing feels real and everything feels inconsequential and the world spins but you stand still?

You do what you’ve always done. You let your body keep you alive.

And that’s what Renjun does. He lets his body take over. He lets it put one foot in front of the other. He lets it make him breathe in and out. He lets it keep his heart beating.

Because his mind had stopped functioning. He felt a numbing take over. Like a warm trickle that started from the crown of his head had run down to his shoulders, numbing everything in its wake. Like his kind body knew that his mind needed protection that way. He feels numb and that’s all he feels.

So he concentrates on every breath. In and out. In and out. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, outside the hospital ward, counting every breath this way. Has it been weeks? Months? Years? Why does time have no meaning? Who decided when the hours would turn to days and days would turn to weeks, anyway? Who decided that time must be measured in the ticking of clocks and in the flips of calendars? How did any of this make sense?

Time should be measured in other ways that would make it seem more real. Time should be measured in the number of times Renjun had hid under the stairs so he could block out his parent’s fights. Time should be measured in the instances Renjun had fed himself dried laver because his parents had a screaming match about whose responsibility it was feeding him. Time should be measured in the days Renjun was alone and scared, waiting for his parents to come home. Time should be measured in the nights that Renjun had spent trying to make peace with the fact that he might never get to return home and that he’d have to stay with his grandmother for all the nights to come. Time should be measured in the last time Renjun felt happiness. Time should be measured in the last time somebody had loved Renjun. Time should be measured in stolen childhoods and resentments and broken relationships and the number of times a person can be abandoned. 

Because that would make a lot more sense than seconds, hours, and fucking days. But how long had it been in any of those measures? He still has no understanding of that.

So he lets his body take over. He breaths in and out. He keeps his heart beating. He puts one foot in front of the other. And he has no idea how doing so has led him to this place. Like his feet carried him where his mind didn’t even know he wanted to be.

But he has walked and there you are. Walking down the stairs looking like you always do. Smiling. Happy. Content. Looking more beautiful than you’ve ever looked. Did Renjun ever think you looked anything less than the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen? Renjun doesn’t remember the time. But you look up then and see him standing there. And your smile fades. The light in your eyes dim. The skip in your stride falters. Of course. Renjun was putting out lights everywhere he went.

You see him and approach him, slow and cautious. Like one would approach an injured cat. And Renjun wonders what he must look like. He finds himself speaking out of his body’s own accord. Because he spoke the words before his mind had even had the thought.

“I know you hate me.” he says, although he doesn’t recognize his own voice. His body is here, doing all the work for him. But where is his soul? 

“I don’t hate you, Renjun.” you say quietly and Renjun finds himself smiling a sad smile. Of course you didn't hate him. You weren't capable of hatred. It was one of your biggest flaws that had made him fall.

“You should hate me.” Renjun tells you. And he watches your pretty face moving. Like you weren’t sure what you had walked into outside of your own home.

“I…” you pause, maybe to read his face. Like you were picking your next words carefully, weighing them against what you saw before you “... Renjun, are you okay?”

Renjun looks away. Was he okay? What did it mean to be okay? Had he ever been okay? He looks back at you. How could he tell you that nothing in his world was okay? How could he tell you that he didn’t even feel like a person? How could he tell you that he felt like a punching bag for his family and his life and the universe? Why couldn’t you just tell?

“Renjun… um, I know it was a lot. What happened. But, your friends care about you, you know? I know you fought but… it’s nothing you can’t work through…” you’re speaking to him carefully, like if you make one wrong move, Renjun would lash out at you. Truth be told, Renjun is not sure how he’d react to anything anymore. His mind is numb. He doesn’t know how he’s still moving, breathing, speaking. He doesn’t even know why he came here, to you. But his body answers.

“Can I come in for some ramyeon?” he asks suddenly. When was the last time he ate? He doesn’t remember. Why doesn’t he remember anything anymore?

“Um, I…” you hesitate a bit but stop when a car drives in and pulls up in front of you. And that’s when Renjun notices that you’re pulling a travel bag behind you. 

“Are you…” Renjun begins to ask but the car’s window has been rolled down and Wong Hendery is waving at the two of you. Even through his numbness, Renjun can feel his heart clench. Of course. Renjun thought he had the power to break your heart. How very conceited he had been to think that. He had probably been a roadblock for you at best. It made sense. You should be with Wong Hendery. He was taller and stronger and more handsome. He came from better means. He was probably nicer to you. He probably listened to you when you talked. He probably got to know you. He probably knew your favorite tea because Renjun certainly hadn’t taken the time to find out. He probably admired you and took you out and knew your life and all your problems. He was a much better man for you than Renjun ever was.

“I… I’m going to be out of town for a bit.” you say slowly, and if Renjun wasn’t so numb, he’d think that you almost look apologetic. 

“Oh. Okay.” he replies.

“We can talk when I get back?” you ask cautiously.

“Okay.”

“If you want to, I mean.” you add.

“Yeah…”

“Okay… I’ll see you, then.” you say, looking at him like you’re trying to say something but deciding to move ahead instead.

“See you.” 

You walk on, rolling your bag behind you when you slowly turn to look at him. “Renjun, um…” your stop for a bit, like you’re not sure whether you should say what you want to say “... take care of yourself.” you sigh and walk away from him.

Renjun watches as Wong Hendery gets out of the car and helps you load your bag into the trunk. He even opens the door for you and helps you put your seatbelt on. Had Renjun done any of these things for you? Probably not. What was it that Renjun had wanted from you, again? He doesn’t remember. He doesn’t remember a time when he was with you for a reason other than your company. Other than wanting you by his side. So what the fuck was it that he had wanted from you? All the material benefits he had ever wanted seem so pointless. So small. So incredibly inconsequential. How could he have possibly wanted them from you? How did he ever think that you were anything less than the most giving person in the world? How did he spend all that time blocking you out when you had brought him so much lightness? Why didn’t anyone ever tell him that all that he had wanted would mean absolutely nothing when you were walking away from him with another man?

Renjun wants to stop you. ‘Don’t go with him. Stay with me. I need you.’ he wants to say. ‘You only fight with the people you truly love,’ you had told him. So why didn’t you remember your own words?

But walking away you were. And that was the truth of it. Renjun didn’t deserve happiness in any way, shape or form. Who was he to stop you after all he had done to you? This is what he deserved. To be beaten down till he didn’t feel like a thinking, feeling person. Just a breathing, walking body. 

So his body carries him home. Although Renjun had never known what home really meant.

As it would turn out, home meant the apartment, where he lived with his friends.

Or what had been his friends before he had done everything in his power to push them away. He doesn’t know how his body remembers his code or how it automatically rids itself of his shoes and jacket. How his feet carry him to his room of their own accord.

He pauses only when he sees Jisung sitting there at his desk, playing video games. He looks up startled as he sees Renjun at the door. 

“Renjun…” the boy says, game forgotten. His eyes follow him as he makes his way from the foot of the door to his bed. He waits, eyes wide, hesitating. 

“Where have you been?” Jisung asks, turning in his chair, eyes taking in Renjun’s demeanor.

Renjun is silent for a moment. He doesn’t know what to say. He sits on the edge of his bed and he feels that trickle once again that starts from his head and crawls down to his shoulders. Except this time, it weighs him down. Like a stronghold was actually pressing him down till he felt he was sinking, sinking, sinking. He feels his lips moving.

“My grandma has Covid.” he finds himself saying.

Had he looked up, he would’ve seen how Jisung’s face had gone from being cautiously surprised to openly panicked. How the boy was struggling to find something to say. “Is she okay? Where is she?”

“In the isolation ward.” Renjun says and he is surprised by how normal his voice sounds.

“Wait… hold on, Renjun, please… stay right here...” Jisung begins as he scrambles out of his seat and out the door. The poor boy never knew what to do in these situations. Renjun feels bad. The boy was way too young and innocent to have Renjun around him right now. Because Renjun’s shoulders were carrying the weight of the world. His heart was carrying nothing but emptiness. His presence was burdening, and that’s exactly what he didn’t want to give his young roommate: his burden. 

He hears more people walk in. Jisung had apparently gone out to call for backup. Because no way was the boy equipped to deal with what was unfolding in front of him on his own. And now Jeno and Jaemin are walking in behind him, concern on their faces as they approach Renjun.

“What’s going on?” Jeno asks softly as he sits next to Renjun, turning his attention to him fully. Jaemin and Jisung stand by the bunk bed, waiting for Renjun to speak.

“My grandma has Covid. She is in the isolation ward. It’s bad.” Renjun repeats. A pause hangs in the air before anyone speaks.

“Fuck, Renjun… I am so sorry.” Jeno finally says. He exchanges a look with Jaemin and the boy grabs the wheelie chair and brings it closer while Jisung sits on the floor. They all huddle around Renjun, waiting, listening, protecting.

“How long has it been, Renjun?” Jaemin asks kindly. 

“Um. I don’t know how long she had it before she was brought to the hospital. No one’s really told me much.” Renjun replies, looking at nothing, looking at no one. He can see Jisung sitting by his feet, looking up at him. He can feel Jeno and Jaemin close on either side of him. But he dares not meet any of their eyes.

“Is that why you haven’t been home much this past week?” Jeno asks.

“No, I, uh. I only found out yesterday afternoon.” Renjun answers and he’s surprised that he replied in actual time units. “Before that, uh. My… my parents are getting divorced. So, I had been going down to see them. It’s why I wasn’t at the party.” 

There is a profound silence in the room as his friends absorb the information. Jaemin is the first one to break it.

“Why didn’t you tell us, Renjun?” he asks softly, kindly.

“I, uh…” Renjun thinks for a moment. Was it only last week that the taxing calls from his mother had resulted in him blocking out all the people from his life? Was it only a couple of days ago that his biggest worry had been his parent’s failing marriage? Was it only two nights ago that he had avenged his bad luck by lashing out on all his friends? “... I don’t know. I didn’t want to bother you guys, I guess. You all had exams.”

“We would’ve wanted to be there for you even if we had exams, Renjun.” Jaemin says, leaning his head down to face Renjun so he would look into his eyes.

Renjun peeks up for a moment but wishes he didn’t. Because now there is a lump in his throat. Jaemin was looking at him so kindly even though Renjun had done nothing to deserve his kindness. He swallows so his voice would be steady before he speaks.

“Still. I, uh. I didn’t want you guys to worry.” he says.

“It’s okay for us to worry about our friend, Renjun.” Jeno says and this time, Renjun can’t possibly hold back the tears that sting his eyes.

“Renjun… have you eaten?” Jaemin asks, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Um…” Renjun’s voice comes out husky. So he clears his throat. “No, I haven’t.” And suddenly he feels how hungry he really was.

He feels a scramble at his feet. “I…” Jisung speaks awkwardly but purposefully. “... I’ll get some food.” and Renjun realizes that if Jisung is the one putting himself in charge of food, then his friends must really be pushing themselves to take care of him. The boy gets up and leaves the room and Jeno speaks again.

“When did you find out about your parents?”

“Um… maybe last week? I don’t know. My mother had been calling me a lot during exam week. I went to see them the day of the party.” Renjun is finding that the more he talks, the more he feels the heaviness in his shoulders ease.

“You should’ve told us. We would’ve come with you.” Jeno says and Renjun sees that he’s wearing a crease between his brows.

“You guys had the party.” Renjun says and somehow saying it out loud makes him realize how dumb this reasoning was.

“You are more important to us than any party, Renjun.” Jaemin says and Renjun doesn’t know whether to cry or to smile. It wasn’t often that his friends spoke this way. But it was oddly comforting that they were speaking this way now. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted to hear the words they were speaking to him.

“Yeah… I… I guess I didn’t know that.” Renjun purses his lips because he’s sure that any breath he lets out would choke him. So inhales deeply through his nose.

“Your grandma… do you know how she is doing?” Jeno asks.

“I don’t really know. My mother’s been with her. I could only wait in the lobby. I just know she’s on life support. And that can never be good.” Renjun bites his lip.

“People have survived Covid even after they’ve been on life support, Renjun.” Jaemin says.

“Yeah, but. She’s so old and frail…” Renjun’s voice cuts off and he’s not sure he can go on any longer. He balls his hands into fists as he fights his tears.

Jaemin takes his hand, gently prying it open before he holds it. “She’s stronger than you know, Renjun. She brought you up all on her own. She’s been living all on her own. She’s been supporting you all this time. Older people have been cured in hospitals. She will be, too.” Jaemin says with so much certainty that it fills Renjun’s heart with hope. He nods. It was so strange having another perspective presented to him. One that told him that being in hospital didn’t mean death and misery. That it could mean cure and recovery and health as well.

“Are you allowed to see her in some way?” Jeno asks.

“No. But they needed a family member on the outside to get like… medicine and stuff. My father has been there but given the situation with my mother… I don’t know how much longer he’d want to be around.”

“We’ll take turns.” Jeno says looking at Jaemin and he nods. “You can rest tonight as long as you’d like. We’ll all go one by one.”

“I’ll take the first shift. I’ll go in the morning and Jeno can take over in the afternoon.” Jaemin nods.

“I’ll call my mother and ask her what things we might need during this time.” Jeno plans some more.

“I’ll make a list of all the duties we will need to be on top of. Medicine, food, any change of clothes Renjun’s mother might need.” Jaemin adds with purpose.

Renjun feels the tears again. He hadn’t even asked for this but his friends were already making up a rota to help him during the worst time of his life.

“I’m really sorry.” Renjun says, only now he is saying it mindfully.

Jeno smiles gently and puts an arm around Renjun and brings himself at his eye level. “What do you have to be sorry for, huh?”

“I don’t know… just for everything…” he tries to explain but finds his throat getting thick again.

“We’ve been really worried about you, Renjun. We just wanted to give you some time.” Jaemin says in a soft, nurturing tone.

“Everybody, man. Chenle told us that you must be going through some real shit and Mark gave us an earful for not probing you for information. But Jaemin said you would probably like some space.” Jeno tells him and Renjun is surprised to find out that his friends had picked up on his aloofness. At the same time, and as if in a sudden moment of clarity, he is not surprised at all. Of course they picked up on it. These people were his friends.

“That was a stupid idea, though. I don’t think we should’ve left you alone. Let’s always probe him in the future.” Jaemin reflects, shaking his head.

“Yeah, let’s always probe him.” Jeno repeats and Renjun finds himself sniggering through the tears.

Jeno rubs the back of Renjun’s neck. “We’ve got you, man,” and finally, and miraculously, he believes it.

Jisung walks in right then, holding onto what looks like laundry. “I… I put this in the drier. It is nice and warm. You… you should shower and change because you’ve been in the hospital.” Jisung says awkwardly. Renjun looks up and can’t help but smile because he can’t believe the boy that was most like a younger brother to him was taking care of him. “And uh, you both as well. Shower and change and uh… I’ll change and sanitize these sheets.”

Jeno looks up and smiles at him as well. It’s such a weird feeling, this odd sort of pride when you realize that your youngest is growing up and taking care of you. This is an extraordinary, bizarre moment in every possible way. But Renjun accepts this moment with open arms over all the moments he had been given these past couple of weeks. 

“Um… I think you have to put your contaminated clothes in like, a plastic bag. I’ll Google how to disinfect them. But you should all shower before the food gets here.” he says again, awkwardly moving from the foot of the bed to his desk.

“Okay, Jisung.” Renjun says, smiling a tired but genuine smile.

“Yes, big brother.” Jaemin chuckles. 

“Okay… let’s shower and disinfect.” Jeno says, patting Renjun on the back before getting up. 

The four boys reconvene in the living room later, fresh and clean and comfortable, sitting round the coffee table on the floor, looking up in surprise as Jisung brings in boxes of pizza and sets them up.

“Is Jisung really setting up the food he bought?” Jeno asks in mock wonder. But set them up he does and he even goes so far as to place a piece in front of all his friends and pour out coke for them in little paper cups. And when Renjun doesn’t pick up his slice right away, Jaemin leans in and feeds him his own. And eating makes Renjun feel so much more hopeful. The four friends eat and talk as if the fight hadn’t even happened in this very place just a couple of days ago. Like all was well and the only thing that mattered was that they needed to be there for Renjun when he was hurting. 

And in that moment, Renjun realizes that his body was kinder to him than his mind had been. Because his mind had been telling him to hide away, to block everyone out. To suffer in silence and believe that nobody cared for him. To never open up because nothing good could ever come out of it. His mind had told him that his friends didn’t worry about him. That nobody in this world cared about him.

But his body had kept him alive. His body had numbed his mind and led him to all the people he loved. His body knew that Renjun had friends who truly cared for him. Who would sit and listen to him without judgement. Who would hold no grudges and be there for him when he needed them. Who would huddle around him to protect him, hold his hand when it needed to be held, feed him when he was hungry and tuck him in so he could finally get some sleep. 

His mind had worried and worried till it could worry no more because it was so damn tired. But his body had been so kind. His body reminded him that he mattered. That he was loved. That he was not alone. Because he always had his friends. And him and his friends had always been a dream team.

Copyright © 2021 NeoCultureTravesty. All rights reserved.

[lubdubsworld]

Better Man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~`Just to see you smile, I’d do anything. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taehyung x Oc

Rated 18 +

Post Divorce, Getting Back Together, Second chances, Angst.

Chapter 1    Chapter 2   Chapter 3   Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Do you ever truly know what someone is feeling?

You could spend decades , breathing the same air, hands held , your fingers brushing ....connected physically and even mentally but a person’s emotions, they’re hidden away. 

You only ever know what they’re willing to show .

And yet, 

all of us build relationships, convinced that we know exactly what the other person will feel when we act a certain way. Buying her flowers will make happy....visiting him at work will take away that little bit of stress.

But sometimes, what we think someone feels, may not be what they truly feel.

And that’s when your actions, well intended actions..... end up with disastrous consequences. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So....last night...” Jungkook’s teasing voice did nothing to ease the pounding in my head.

“I do believe you promised not to tease me about it if I drank two glasses of water, which I did by the way.” I told him firmly, trying to bring the words on my planner into focus as i squinted. Three meeting. Each two hours long. 

kill me now. 

“I wanted to ask HR to give you the day off but you have quite a schedule today. “ He said casually,  leaning over me to peer into the planner . I glanced at his wrist resting on the table, the expensive rolex showing that it was a little past 9. 

“ We’re planning out the Christmas campaign first and I have a meeting with Taehyung’s team in the afternoon so we can go over the contract see if they have any requirements and then the social media team in the evening at four to discuss promos and revamping the website.” I glanced up at him. 

He gave me a smile before casually leaning down, lightly gripping my chin and tilting my face up. I felt the brush of his lips against mine, fleeting and gentle. 

‘You’re beautiful.” He smiled. 

I blinked.

And then took a deep breath.

“Your wife...” I said softly. “ I saw her today.” 

Jungkook went completely still at that. 

“She was waiting in the lobby on my way up. I didn’t know who you were married to and I was a little shocked and also little upset because....” I glanced at him. “ She was my best friend in college. “

Jungkook swore. 

“Fuck.. I told her to stay the fuck away from my company. Did she say something to you?” 

i shook my head.

“I didn’t greet her because I wasn’t sure if she remembered me. And I wasn’t sure if i was remembering her right. i didn’t know she was your wife till i heard someone mention it in the elevator on my way up. Did you know that she and i knew each other?” 

Jungkook looked just a little guilty.

“When you first joined the company, she saw your resume on my cvomputer. told me a lot about you. She remembers you. Fondly. She wanted to come meet you but...things happened.  “ He shrugged.

Things like infidelity and divorces . 

“Ahh...” I smiled. “ Tell me i wasn’t another way to get back at your ex wife, Jeon Jungkook ssi...” 

He made a noise of protest.

“no... No of course not Christ...it’s just...I’ll admit she made me curious about you. She spoke of you being spontaneous and fun and wild and I’d seen you as this demure, elegant woman in the office. i was curious. I wanted to know which one was the real you. “

“Were you curious before she cheated....or after?”

“ Jang Mi...this isn’t what it looks like .. I’m done with her. She fucked my best buddy and ruined my fucking life...” He sounded pained. 

I frowned. 

“It’s hard to believe she would do something like that. The Aera i remember had a very strong moral compass.” 

“Yeah well, apparently, you can live whole entire lives with someone and never really know the person. Listen, do we really have to talk about my ex wife?” He asked, eyes shining with discomfort. 

I shrugged.

“I’m not fond of drama. I won’t tangle myself in a relationship that risks hurting a lot of people Jungkook. That’s just not the kind of person I am. I’m sorry.” 

He made a noise of impatience, shaking his head. 

“We won’t be hurting anyone... We have fun together. We like each other. We’re attracted to each other...that’s all that matters....” He said sharply.

“ If we were in our twenties , without kids ....maybe. But that's not how it is now. I have a son, you have a daughter and I think I’m not completely over my marriage yet.” I said softly. 

He froze.

“And i don’t think you’re completely over your wife either.” I smiled.

He glared at me. 

“Ex-wife.” He snarled.

“She makes you feel things, Jungkook. You need to sort that out before you start something new with someone else. I’m only saying this because we’re old enough not to 

He growled and punched the desk. 

“God, how can she keep ruining my life even when she’s out of it.” He muttered, stepping away from me and moving to the door. 

I watched him storm out of my office and bit my lip. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

By the time evening rolled around, I was exhausted. But the day had been productive and I was happy because the contract had been finalized, the theme had been decided and we’d also spent an amazing three hours redesigning the website. Although it wasn’t in my job description I had studied web design in college and the creative department always welcomed my inputs. 

“You’re in a good mood...” Taehyung’s voice was a complete surprise and I turned to him, shocked. He was dressed in a black t shirt and blue jeans and sneakers and looked a whole decade younger. 

I felt affection rise up my throat so fast I nearly choked. 

“What are you doing here?”

“My agent told me you guys were incredibly cooperative today. She also told me you were quite possibly the loveliest woman she’s ever met and that I’m an idiot to have let you go.” He smiled. 

I laughed, shaking my head and my gaze shifted to the small bunch of tiger lilies in his hand. 

I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“You remembered.” I said softly, pleased. 

“Thirteen years since our first date.  The lily to my tiger. ” He held the flowers to me and I grinned, pressing the flowers to my chest. 

“Man I feel old.” I muttered.

“You are old.” Tae grinned and i grimaced, before tossing him a glare. . 

“You’re supposed to say I still look as beautiful as i did thirteen years ago.” I said. 

“But you don.t” He grinned impishly. “ You look a billion times  more  beautiful.” 

I felt the atmosphere shift, the air charged with something dangerous and i looked away. Usually, this was when I would laugh and throw my arms around him. Pull him close and press my lips against his , slip my fingers into his t shirt and trace the skin of his back. Feel his hands on my waist as he lifted me up to twirl me around and kiss me just like that. 

How often had we kissed that way? Thirteen years is a long time to count the number of kisses we’d shared. 

We both stayed quiet, looking anywhere but at each other.

“I...there’s a reason I came.” He said finally.

I glanced at him.

“Oh?”

“The lawyer. Ms. Lee she ... recommended a relationship counselor”

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. 

“Taehyung we’re-”

“Just hear me out. Its not mandatory and it won’t affect the divorce in anyway. its just something the court offers all couples going through a divorce and we’re free to refuse it. “

“Did you?” I asked. 

“Did I what?”

“Refuse it. Did you tell her no?” 

He stared at me. 

“No.” He said finally.

I exhaled sharply.

“Wow.” I whispered, feeling jittery and unbalanced. He sighed and came closer, reaching out to lightly grip my wrists. I let him tug me closer into a hug and held him tight, my heart pounding with anxiety.

“Mia.... I just... I’m not saying we should try to fix this.... relationship.” He said softly, eyes gentle and pleading, “  I just think this whole thing has taken a toll on both of us and maybe we can heal better if we get the help of a professional. Come out of this with closure. Instead of battling guilt and regrets everyday. Just ....it could help us move on. Don’t you think?”

You could never really tell what the other person is feeling. 

I couldn’t tell what Taehyung was feeling right now? 

Hope ?

Hope that we would fix our marriage....

or maybe hope that he would finally move on from me.. Maybe this whole thing was his final attempt to end things with me for good. So he could walk out of my life forever without any lingering guilt or regret. 

I would never know. 

I clung to him harder and somehow the pain of the entire two years we’d been apart, rammed into me at once. 

I choked on a sob. Breathing became difficult and I felt myself gasping for air. 

“Mia?” Taehyung’s panicked voice was the last sane thought that registered. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I can stay the night if you want. I’ll sleep in the spare bedroom . ” Taehyung whispered,  seated on the warm fluffy blanket that he’d managed to dig out of the closet in the spare bedroom. i was already tucked into the bed, fingers clutching the satin lined edges . 

i shook my head.

“I know how much you need your gazillion pillows. Go on... I’ll be fine.”

“i feel terrible. i pushed you into a panic attack.”

I waved off the guilty words. 

“You didn’t . i was already a little frayed and i guess i haven’t really been processing all the stuff between us the way i should have. i just got a little overwhelmed.” 

A panic attack. At the age of 32. The last time i had one I was twenty four. I wanted to crawl into the bed and never resurface. 

Taehyung’s gentle fingers , stroking my cheek brought me out of my own head. 

“I was so scared.” He said softly and my heart ached.

“I’m sorry i scared you.” I said apologetically, gripping his wrists lightly and stroking the skin there with my thumb. 

“I really want to stay. i don’t think I’ll be able to sleep if I go home right now.” He whispered. 

I bit my lips. 

“Okay... but... You need to hug something. To sleep. “ 

He grinned at that. 

“I’m old enough to survive one night without a pillow, Mia .” he chuckled. 

I flushed, sinking deeper into the covers.

“Okay.” 

“You don’t have to worry about the counselor thing. I’ll tell Lee we don’t want to do any-”

“No!!” I said quickly, a lot  louder than I’d intended. 

Taehyung blinked.

“I just... I realized that I haven’t been dealing with any of this...the right way. I’m so confused and disoriented all the time and I .. I don’t mind getting some help. To sort things out. Just for myself you know...without the pressure of trying to fix...well us.” I finished .

Taehyung gave me a wide smile before bending down and kissing my forehead.

“ Okay, Mia mine. Sleep well, and I’ll see you in the morning.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 12)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Kyoto-Tokyo Goodwill Event

Next Chapter: Home Sweet Home

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife @lordguameow @track5enthusiast

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

2.8k words for this chapter.

Chapter 12: Goldenrod

You went to check on Noritoshi getting cleaned up in the infirmary. He perked up upon seeing you.

"Ieiri San!" You smiled at the woman who was dressing his wounds.

"Y/n, it's been a while. How are you?" She called out.

"Doing okay here. You let your hair grow out!" You hurried to her side for a quick hug.

She laughed. "The last time we saw each other, I still had short hair?? That must have been years back. You as well, from a little girl that came up to my waist, you're nearly my height now!"

You nodded wistfully at her before turning to Noritoshi, looking over his wounds. "I'm alright, y/n." He said quietly. You gave him a shaky smile, quietly hiding the fact that you were worried when he got knocked around by some of the seniors.

Ieiri smiled at the both of you. "No need to worry, he is fine y/n."

"Ayiieeee, lovebirds get a room!" Satoru popped up from behind you. You flinched hard and on pure instinct, lashed out with your whip. It sprung out, but Satoru easily stopped it with two fingers up. "Women in love are so scary."

"Toru nii, can you not?!" You wanted to skin this man alive. Ieiri just sighed out, cleaning up her tools. "I've done what I can Kamo kun. Try to get more rest for tomorrow." He nodded, "Thank you Ieiri san."

"Wahhh, you got kicked around huh Noritoshi? You look all worn out. Ain't my students amazing?!" Satoru taunted.

CRACK. Satoru teleported a few meters away. The space where he was a few seconds ago was filled with ice and frost.

Your face was hard as stone as you said, "Noritoshi did amazing. He did his best to coordinate with his team members as he fought against 2 of his seniors. Okkotsu kun was just different as a Special Class. But of course you know all about that, Toru."

"Why so defensive Neko Chan? I didn't say your man didn't do well right?" He drawled.

You opened your mouth, eyes furrowed, ready to retort when Noritoshi pulled you to him, gently hushing you as he softly patted your back. "He's riling you up. It's okay, I've learned a lot from today. It's our loss."

You leaned into Noritoshi, "You're too nice to that dumbass."

"Hey! Anyways, I wanted to speak with the both of you. If you're done here let's go." Satoru motioned towards the door with his head.

Both of you turned to him, before looking at each other and nodding.

◇◇◇

Satoru led you both to his room. "So, how long has your soulmate bond been active?" He asked as he closed the door.

Noritoshi was surprised, "How did you know about this?"

You nudged him. "He's my family friend, he eventually found out." You lied for the sake of protecting the details of Satoru's six eyes ability.

Satoru removed his blindfold, revealing his crystalline like eyes. "Yup, don't worry your secret is safe with me. I'm surprised but not too surprised that it's the two of you." He sighed out.

You crossed your arms and sat on his bed. "What do you mean?" Noritoshi remained standing.

"Both of you are just so different. And I've known you both since before. I guess it just never crossed my mind that you'd be together.

A soulmate bond is incredibly rare and fragile as you know. And I guess it only fits since both of you are more complementary to each other rather than have similar personalities like twin flames.

I have the soulmate records of some from the Gojo clan if that would help. But Noritoshi, sorry I have to ask you not to share it with your family." He said.

Ahh. The Great 3 clans still hold their secrets. You turned to Noritoshi, worriedly looking for his reaction.

He had this internal war of obedience to his clan elders vs seeing you so close to Satoru and seeing another side of the Gojo and Tsuchimikado clans like this.

"Toshi, if you can't, it's okay, we don't need to read it." You said carefully. "I know how hard it is to keep secrets from family."

Noritoshi mulled it over. Satoru was actually sizing him up. Seeing his family friend get entangled with a great 3 clan's future head… he would be lying if he wasn't worried for you.

“I’m assuming that there might be some details or secrets of the Gojo clan involved in the diary entries, which is why you’re being wary of me. But you have offered to let me read it, which already shows a bit of trust. As a future clan head, I know the significance of keeping good relationships with the other clans and elders. And so, I promise not to tell anyone else of the details in the diary.” Nori said solemnly.

Satoru perked up at that and smiled, “There shouldn’t be a problem then. Here, you both can have a look. Return it to me tomorrow afternoon. I hope it can help with your situation. It must be scary not knowing anyone else to turn to for help with the bond.”

You felt touched by that, “Thank you Satoru.”

◇◇◇

That night, you slept over once more in Noritoshi’s room, reading the excerpts.

"A soulbond can be rejected?!" You both stared at the notebook in horror.

"That must be so painful… imagine shutting down your fated pair." You murmured, turning to Noritoshi.

He patted you and nodded. "Hey look at this." He pointed to another passage.

“Wow, they can really telepathically communicate with complete sentences, that’s insane.” You said in awe.

Noritoshi cozied up to your side, playfully nudging his head against yours. “You want that for us too someday angel?”

You turned and bumped your nose against his before kissing him. “Of course, I want to experience everything with you Noritoshi.”

Noritoshi’s heart skipped a beat or two at that. His pulse was irregular for once. What on earth was that feeling? He confusedly looked down at his chest and patted it. He checked his vitals with his technique, but everything was in order.

You worried over him, “Are you not feeling okay? You got hit in the chest earlier right? We can call it a night and rest, you need sleep for tomorrow’s individual battles.”

“Okay then. Let’s quickly skim the diary.” You both caught a few important details, like how strong trust and honesty can strengthen a soulbond.

After spending time with each other and having significant encounters (“What on earth does that mean?” Nori asked. “Maybe like notable events with each other” you supplied.) helps a couple to move forward from one stage of the bond to another.

Something caught Noritoshi's eye. Reverse cursed techniques and some other advanced techniques that usually can only be done on oneself can be applied to the other soulmate.

That made him wonder… if he could manipulate your blood. But he put that thought aside for next time, unwilling for you to be a subject of experiment.

After that you both went to bed. "I'm gonna have such a hard time sleeping alone after spending so much time in bed with you." You whined out.

He chuckled, "Then just stay over as often as you want to. I like sharing the bed with you. It's not like it's cramped for the both of us." He pressed his lips to your forehead as you kissed him on the neck.

His heart squeezed tightly once more. What was wrong with him?! He was used to having it speed up whenever he was around you and attributed it to regular attraction. But this was different. His chest was tight, almost painful, and it was getting harder to breathe.

"Okay then. No take backs." You smiled, before closing your eyes. Noritoshi watched the moonlight illuminate your features for a bit before falling asleep.

◇◇◇

The next day, the lots were out. They announced that it would be a duel between 2 students on top of thick, tall, vertical standing logs set in a small lake. First one to push the other off the logs and into the water or out of bounds wins. Momo senpai has a huge advantage with no handicap at this.

To your slight horror, Okkotsu Yuuta was matched against Noritoshi. You visibly paled, but he went up and squeezed your hand before he left for the event. “I’ll be okay.” He promised.

“Oh you will be okay. I’ll make sure of it.” You said determinedly, already planning to step in just in case Rika goes wild on Noritoshi. Your thoughts were cut as Nori poked your forehead.

“I can hear your thoughts. Have a little more faith in me.” He gave a small smile. You nodded dumbly.

You watched the matches. None of them were particularly eye-opening. Until it was time for Okkotsu to fight Noritoshi. You clasped your hands together in prayer, eyes and senses wide open.

“Ready, Start!” Satoru called out.

Noritoshi immediately fired arrows, which honed on Okkotsu even though he tried to dodge. Good technique. Okkotsu had some trouble keeping up with the arrows and Noritoshi quickly moved in to punch him hard.

But Okkotsu was quick on his feet, leaping back diagonally onto another log before slashing at Noritoshi with his Katana. It went on a bit like this. With both men trading blows back and forth. They had decent balance on top of the logs.

Until Noritoshi made a major move, “Blood Manipulation: Slicing Exorcism!” He cut down a huge number of logs in Okkotsu’s area.

Okkotsu barely held on, jumping to another log that was borderline about to collapse. The water was now dangerously filled with the sharp edges of cut wood.

Your eyes brightened, ‘Please win Toshi.’

Noritoshi moved in for the kill, “Red Flowing Scale”, the X mark appeared on his eye as he readied to knock Okkotsu off. Until the dark mass that had been hanging around Okkotsu screamed, making everyone wince. “Yuuutaaa! You’ll get hurt if you fall down now!”

Satoru had explained that Orimoto Rika was the Special Grade curse with overwhelming power. Rika made a half-manifestation, easily smacking Noritoshi away. But she hit him too hard on the head, sending him flying way past the little lake set up.

Everyone gasped and yelled in horror. You saw red.

He was going to hit the ground hard. You stood up, slowing down his body in midair as you blasted your way over to him. You caught him in time.

"Angel?" He looked up to see you, and his heart tightened again. Ah... this might be love.

"Shhh, it's alright Toshi. You've done really well. Don’t speak," You worriedly activated your Reverse Cursed Technique as you floated down to the ground, hugging Noritoshi tighter.

“Thank you for catching me.” He patted your arm weakly. Blood was streaming down his temples. Not a good sign. “Ieiri san!” You cried out, but she was already making her way towards the both of you.

“Winner! Okkotsu Yuuta!”

Your blood boiled, but you knew it was still Okkotsu’s win. ‘He didn’t have to be that harsh on Noritoshi.’ “Age doesn’t matter to Jujutsu sorcerers darling.” Noritoshi coughed out as though he could read your mind. “I said not to talk!” You worriedly scolded him.

Ieiri quickly activated her reverse cursed technique alongside yours. Hers was incredibly refined, easily sealing up Noritoshi’s popped blood vessels. “Infirmary.” She said, putting a brace around his neck just in case of any spinal injuries.

“I’m so sorry, Rika went overboard!” Okkotsu yelled out. He looked really worried and sincere. You shifted uncomfortably; the apology isn’t for you so you backed away. Noritoshi waved him off, “It’s okay. Thank you for the fight, Okkotsu kun.”

A few more apologies and words of thanks were exchanged before Noritoshi was sent to rest in the infirmary. Satoru caught you by the collar, “Stay until the end of the event. Shoko will take care of Noritoshi.”

You glumly nodded. To be honest, Okkotsu was really friendly, easily chatting with all of you. And you all were delighted, laughing hard when Rika beat the living shit out of Todo as he tried to harass Okkotsu for his ideal type. The Tokyo kids weren’t too bad.

◇◇◇

“Take care y/n!” Satoru hugged you tight as the Tokyo school students and staff readied to go home. “Thanks again for everything Satoru.” You already returned his diary to him in Noritoshi’s place. He was still resting up in the infirmary.

“Hey…. Have you ever considered transferring to Tokyo Jujutsu Tech?”

‘What?’

“No, why would I? Noritoshi and my family are here.” You were taken aback.

Satoru looked thoughtful, “I could teach you a lot, and honestly I’d love to have you as my student. You’re really strong y/n. Think about it. Later!” and walked off with the rest of them, leaving you at a loss for words.

◇◇◇

It’s been a while since you’ve been dating Noritoshi, and everything seemed a bit brighter. Like the sun seemed to be really strong, the flowers smelled so nice, the air currents seemed to bend a little more easily under the command of your technique.

'Is this the effect of our bond?' You wondered to yourself, but then quickly shook away the thoughts to focus on your task.

A few days have passed since the Goodwill event. You would be lying if you said you weren’t inspired by watching Okkotsu and Rika fight. Rika was just a force to be reckoned with.

Learning how to move well in mid-air was a challenge, but it wasn't impossible thanks to your inherited technique. Since you grew up mainly focusing on items around you and the four elements, you were still having some difficulty with some mobility techniques.

But there was something you’ve been itching to do. Aside from working on your cursed technique: reversal, domain expansion, extension techniques, etc., there was another special technique that ran in the family.

You remembered your father’s words: “Lightning is generated in the presence of both hot and cold air. You can manipulate molecules to generate both. But doing it simultaneously is the challenge. The ice shards in the cold air collide with the warm water particles in mid air, causing static electricity to form."

"That way, you separate positive and negative charges in a space. That is how you generate your electricity. Take particular care, because for this to happen, you need to master both your extension technique: Niflheim and technique reversal: Inferno.”

For personal reasons, you didn’t like using Inferno. Because the last time you successfully used it was when you were 6 years old and it caused a disaster. A memory which you’ve buried so far under everything else that you continuously try to forget about it.

But for the sake of the secret art, you will.

“Merging techniques… does any other jujutsushi do this…” You wondered.

You set up several targets of bamboo shoots and wood. “Niflheim.” You froze a target then took a deep breath before trying your reversed technique.

“Cursed Technique Reversal: Inferno.” You put out two hands and linked your thumb and ring finger in each hand together. One hand facing the other from above and below. Then a red light appeared as you encircled and swapped the positions of your hands.

This hand movement activates Inferno as the target immediately explodes from the rapid heat expanding the cooled target. Steam and smoke billowed out. You let out a slow breath. So you can still do it even after all these years.

“Special Art: Goldenrod.” You manipulated Inferno in one palm and Niflheim in the other. Your left hand had your ring and thumb still linked together. While your right hand uses the 4 pointer hand position designed for Niflheim.

At first it just made small explosions of steam. Your hands got really sore from the back and forth temperature control.

This is where it gets tricky. Goldenrod has to be activated within your hands. So you also guard your hands against the drastic temperatures with your cursed energy, as you do when you control fire.

It hasn't worked out so far. Maybe you simply had to condense the molecules. You condensed them further and started seeing small sparks of lightning.

Your eyes widened in joy. You tried activating it once more with more cursed energy, only for a huge bolt of lightning to shoot out from your hands and destroy a large amount of targets. There was a loud crack of thunder.

You didn’t expect the energy to be this high as you were pushed back from the force. The air was knocked out from your lungs as you hit the ground hard.

“I think I need help. Maybe Satoru nii can...” you wondered to yourself. ‘Is it worth bothering him over something like this…’ With a shock, you realized you were actually considering his words to transfer to Tokyo Jujutsu High. “No way.” You laughed it off with uncertainty.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[katsukisbimbo]

DDAENG

✯ pairing: hawks x reader

✯ genre: FLUFFYYDS!!

✯ summary: fan! hawks meeting his newly debuted idol crush y/n at a fansign!

✯wordcount: 2.1k+

✯warning: just swearing and hawks being thirsty <3

✯ note: this literallt came to me because i was trying to turn @hoodtoshi into a bts stan (lowkey succeeded) and i was jus like yea, thirsty hawks

-ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥ ̥ ̮ ̥ ⊹ ‧̫‧ ⊹ ̥ ̮ ̥ ‧̥̥‧̥̥͙　⑅ˏ͛--ˏ͛⑅　‧̥̥͙‧̥̥

- you were nervous

- this was your first fan meet after all,, but you were still nervous

- you were only 19 and had already debuted!!

- that didn’t happen to just anyone!!

- you worked super hard to get to where you are today!! everyone knew that!!

- you sighed as your make-up artist continued to paint your lips a dark red colour

- you honestly didn’t look like yourself, but this was to keep up the whole idol image i guess

- “jinhee, how many people are outside? i’m sure only two people came to see me..” you pouted, resulting in your make-up artist to smack your cheek lightly

- “dOn’t say that you dummy! i’m sure a lot of people came to see you!” she scolded, wiping off the excess makeup on a towel

- “now get out, you’re done”

- “i don’t wanna”

- she raised a newspaper and flexed, ready to beat the fuck out of you if she heard another whisper of self-deprecation from you

- “fine! i’m going!” you grumbled, pouting at oncoming soreness of your feet from your heels

- why did idols have to wear heels anyway?

- okay no, you knew why, but sTill!! they sucked!

- you smiled as you saw the buffet table

- one little snack wouldn’t hurt

- >:)

- “keigo stop fuckign puSHING”

- “im so EXCITED!! i’m meeting THE y/n you SLUTBAG!!” keigo yelled as he shook his companion

- dabi sometimes questioned why he was still friends with keigo

- “i SEE that you asshole”

- keigo took this opportunity to punch dabi in the arm, causing dabi to retaliate, causing kEigo to retaliate, causing dAb-

- okay so

- “i’ve been in love with her ever since she debuted!! and she debuted ALONE!! a whole solo artist!! the talent!! the beauty!! i’m in love!!”

- dabi raised a brow at his friend

- “didn’t you tweet about wanting to ‘put a baby inside of her’?”

- keigo felt his cheeks heat up at the possibility of you seeing his indecent tweets about you

- what if you had seen? what if you think he’s a creep? what if you already hated him??

- keigo felt his anxiety creep onto his shoulders as he continued to overthink, not realizing that they were already next to go in

- ruh roh raggy

- keigo didn’t know anything BUT anxiety

- rip keigo we’ll miss you big daddy :,(

- “please come in, please don’t shout”

- whO was shouting?? nobody was shouting

- keigo wasn’t gonna shout

- as keigo was about to shout, he felt himself be silenced by his partner

- all keigo could feel was betrayal

- “calm down you hot dog, you’re going to TALK to her in person jfc. you can tell her how much you want to father her children then”

- it was almost time and you were STILL at the food table

- you saw a small intern approach you with an uneasy look on her face

- she was for sure about to reprimand you

- “m-ms. y/n,, we have to go now!” she stuttered

- she was sO! cute you just couldn’t say no

- so you decided to just sneak a few bags of chips under your skirt before smiling and quickly following her

- you made your way to the stage, peeking behind the curtains

- you saw a huge crowd of people, mostly males, but one man who sat near the front caught your eye

- he had bright yellow eyes with matching blond hair, even wearing some eyeliner

- the unknown male looked absolutely delectable

- he made you bark a little tbh

- you took a deep breath before you were pushed by your manager on the stage, cheers suddenly reaching your ears as your fans confessed their love for you

- quit shamelessly might you add

- you blushed as you watched the cute blond-haired man cup his hands around his mouth and yell—

- “I LOVE YOU Y/N! IM YOUR NUMBER ONE FAN!” he yelled, gaining the attention of everyone in the room

- soon everyone started to yell that they were your biggest fan and that the blond man could never even compare

- but the man had nothing but a satisfied smirk plastered on his handsome face

- did he enjoy starting riots?

- you sat on the chair, placing your hands on top of the table

- this was a small table ngl

- luckily there was a sheet on the table, hiding your nervously bouncing legs

- just imagine watching a fancam of you bouncing your leg

- people would still thirst for that

- anyway

- “thank you guys for coming! i’m so excited to meet you all!” you started, smiling at the large number of people

- “you guys can ask me questions or some things? i don’t know?” you laughed, feeling slightly awkward

- you didn’t know how to be a person

- “can you do a dance for us!!” a young boy, about the age of 7 yelled, jumping up and down in front of his seat

- “what dance?” you queried, raising your brow in curiosity

- “move by taemin!!” he cheered, immediately dancing

- you laughed at his adorable actions

- you were totally gonna dance for him!

- you got up as the music started to play in the background, moving to the side of the table and sensually moving to the beat while the audience watched intently

- you carefully moved your hips, hitting all the right beats

- this wasn’t any different than dancing in front of the camera people, plus you had to get used to an audience

- it also wasn’t any different from how you had to dance to kpop songs from when you were younger for your family!!

- (no, literally. the amount of times i had to dance to 2NE1’s i am the best, girls generation’s gee, and wonder girls’ nobody. the dances are engraved in my head. 6 year old giri had to dance or else)

- as the song faded out, you held your pose before bowing, smiling at the little boy who continued to hype you up

- “holy fuck.. dabi that was hot” hawks whispered, tightening his grip around his friends sleeve

- “jeez kei, ease up a bit” dabi complained, prying his friends hand off of him

- “oh my god she’s such a great dancer, do you think she’ll like me if i learn how to dance too?” he questioned, grabbing his friend by the front of his shirt, pissing dabi off once more

- “no. not if you don’t stop being a fuckinf weirdo”

- hawks pouted

- dabi grinned

- how cruel

- “does anyone else have a request?”

- “WAP!!” a number of people yelled, resulting in your face heating up

- how would they suggest such a lewd dance!

- especially when there were children here!

- “haha! that doesn’t seem very appropriate!” you laughed it off, trying your best to mask your uncomfortableness

- hopefully this would end soon

- “no! can you dance to gashina please!” a girl yelled, catching your attention

- hm, gashina was actually a very good suggestion

- you could do this! you could be as great as sunmi!

- okay maybe no. sunmi was a god <3

- you did the routine, catching the eyes and the hearts of the audience

- “fuck i think i’m in love dabi” hawks whined, clutching his chest

- he had a lovesick expression plastered on his face

- he was totally whipped for you, no doubt about it

- before you knew it, it was time for the fans to have a minute to speak to you and for them to get their albums signed!

- you had recently debuted with your album, dawn in tokyo

- you had taken inspiration from the time where you had left your hotel at dawn and walked around the streets of tokyo, sitting near a bridge and writing lyrics for some of the songs in the album

- hence the name of the album

- most of your album was written in japan

- hawks felt himself get more excited as he came closer to you, holding tightly to the fabric of his friends jacket, which wouldn’t surely gotten him slapped if you weren’t so near

- before he knew it, he was already next in line, dabi already sitting in front of your figure while holding your soft, delicate looking hand in his large ugly ones

- this made hawks’ chest bubble with jealousy

- >:(

- sure, you had a large fan base, but it still hurt to see people touch you the way he wanted to

- it was now his turn, he walked up the stairs with his wobbly knees, wanting to just sit and be near you

- he knew that you would be able to calm his nerves, or make him spontaneously combust

- “hey! i’m y/n! nice to meet you!” you smiled, out-stretching your hand to him, offering to place your hand in his own

- he swiftly, but gently grasped your hand, before placing it on his cheek, letting you hold the soft chub of his cheek

- no fan had been this brave to do this. it was quite surprising to be honest

- he wasn’t breaking any rules so you decided to fuck it and go with it

- you placed both your hands on his cheeks, slightly squishing them together, causing him to adorably pout

- “dash not nishe” he mumbled, brows furrowing

- you laughed before letting go of his face, bringing your hands back to your side of the table

- “you’re so cute! can i sign your album for you?” you smiled, tilting your head to the side

- hawks just..dieded

- mans said peace out

- your beauty was incomprehensible

- phew, he had to get his shit together! he was trying to impress u! he wanted to be the mc in a wattpad story

- we all wanna be y/n

- anywayss

- “sure dove! u can make it out to keigo, u can put your number in it too ;)” he winked

- KDNDHSK

- DID HE—

- DID HE JUST ASK FOR YOUR NUMBER

- LIKE—

- nobody:

- y/n: i’m not gon do it girl.. i’m just thinking about it

- “ah! sorry cutie! i’m not allowed to share my number :333”

- you tried to laugh as you died inside

- he smiled, before placing a kiss on your fingertips

- “don’t worry dove,i respect that” he winked

- BARK BARK

- “i have some gifts for you!” he announced, placing the huge paper bag on top of the table

- he first pulled out your favourite snack before handing it to you

- how did he get these??

- omg

- then, he brought out a bottle of perfume, and a new song writing notebook!

- this was great!!

- “oh my gosh! keigo! you’re too sweet” you cooed,

- this was a lot

- “i also have something else.. would you wear this flower crown for me and do some fan-service?” he queried

- of course you would!

- you nodded before placing the flower crown on top of your head

- “what do you want me to say?”

- “say.. i’ll be a good dove for hawks. is that okay?” he smirked, tracing small circles into the palm of your hands

- w-wHAT

- was this legal

- your managers were literally ignoring you—

- “o-oh! sure! uhm-“

- god you were going to regret this

- “i-i’ll be a good dove for hawks!” you whimpered, showing off your practiced aegyo

- “ahhh! my heart!” he gasped, dramatically clutching his chest

- “excuse me, we need the next fan to come up” you manager tapped the both of your arms

- you nodded before smiling at hawks and waving goodbye

- you were going to miss him :((

- ig it just wasn’t meant to be

- the night you had gotten home, you decided to go through your gifts

- you were particularly interested in the gift you had gotten from the blond man

- it was really sweet of him to get you a notebook

- the moment you had opened it, you had noticed that something was written on the first page

- ‘xxx-xxx-xxxx call me pretty girl <3’

- he was a bold onealright

- you were contemplating on actually calling him

- he could leak your number!

- well, you could just wait for him to speak

- fuck it

- you dialed the number on your phone and waited as it rang

- “hello?”

- “i-is this keigo?”

- “hey dove, i’m glad you called”

- y/n: i did it :33

[dreamingofaizawa]

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here. 

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

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You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely. 

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out. 

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing. 

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered. 

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall. 

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact. 

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender. 

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you. 

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar. 

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours. 

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

?:

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You: 

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly. 

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid. 

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

*

*

*

When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm. 

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place. 

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

[heyitssmiller]

Frosted Windowpanes Part Two

I have no idea why this was so hard to write? Part one just came so easily and this... not so much. But here it is! All the holiday tropes! Christmas puns (thank you to all of y’all who gave me ideas for those)! Falling in love!

As always, @donttouchmycarrots is my hero for proofreading!! Love you <3

@lumosinlove Guess who’s back to borrow your characters ;) Thank you so much!!

Part One if you missed it!

.

Finn had a Plan.

Well, half a Plan.

Maybe.

Step one: meet up with Logan and Leo again. Step two: woo them. Step three: …

Well, it wasn’t much. And it was very vague. But Finn’s plans tended to never go the way he wanted them to anyway, so vague was usually for the best. And so far, it had been going well. They’d grabbed dinner several times, ran into each other at the store or buying Christmas presents downtown. And on Monday the diner was closed, so Finn and Leo spent hours at the farm helping where they could and pestering Logan. He was so fun to tease – he got all gruff and grumpy and adorable. Leo seemed to think so, too, if the number of times he teamed up with Finn to make Logan get all red was anything to go off of.

At the beginning of all this, Finn had thought he’d been overdramatic. He’d woken up the morning after first meeting Logan and Leo and assumed he’d been tired and jet-lagged and was imagining all those feelings he’d felt the night before.

And then he’d met up with them again.

Love at first sight wasn’t real. Finn knew this. But being here, meeting Logan and Leo, just might have been enough to change his mind. It made no sense, but – well, here he was. The past few days were happy, rose-tinted, and Finn couldn’t believe his luck. What were the odds that he’d find both of them in this sleepy little town?

So here he was, pulling into the parking lot of Leo’s for a cup of coffee and a healthy serving of sweet southern blond.

Leo was out front, shoveling snow and looking absolutely miserable while doing it. He was bundled in a thick coat and hat, scarf wrapped high around his neck. Finn laughed under his breath as he turned his car off and braved the cold. Poor southern boy. Leo glanced up at him briefly when he approached, then did a double take.

“Morning, sunshine.” Finn said with a cheeky grin. “Enjoying the snow day?”

Leo’s resulting grumpy look made Finn laugh. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Nate called and said he can’t make it to work today because the roads are so bad.” Leo took a deep breath, and then the rest of his words came out in a jumbled, rushed mess. “Which isn’t his fault and I’m not blaming him at all. But I haven’t started cooking and we open in thirty minutes and there’s no coffee brewing and nowhere for people to park because of this goddamn snow and so I’m stuck shoveling snow instead of cooking and I’m so far behind-”

Finn gently pressed a finger to Leo’s lips, halting the nervous ramblings. Leo looked down at his finger, then back up to meet Finn’s eyes.

Oh, he was so gorgeous.

Finn had to force himself to focus on the matter at hand instead of cherry-red lips and soft baby blues. “Relax, ok? And hand me the shovel. I’ll do this, while you get on inside and start cooking.”

“But – Finn,” Leo said, and wow did he love the sound of his voice in that southern twang.

“Leo,” He echoed with an attempted accent, eliciting a smile from the blond.

“I can’t just ask you to work. You’re on vacation.”

“First of all, you didn’t ask – I offered. And the friends I’m visiting are both at work,” Finn explained, “so I’ve been left to my own devices for the day.”

Leo winced in sympathy. “Bless your heart.”

And see, Finn had done his research. He’d googled New Orleans, the state of Louisiana, and the south in general. And he’d learned that southerners were very confusing – more confusing than people gave them credit for. They were polite and kind to everyone, even if they definitely didn’t mean it. The phrase “bless your heart” could mean they either absolutely adored you or they thought you were the worst person on the planet.

Finn really hoped it wasn’t the latter. He didn’t think it was the latter, anyways.

“I’m literally dying of boredom. I’ll shovel the snow, and then I can come help you cook!” At Leo’s skeptical look, Finn brought out the big guns: his puppy dog eyes. They were known to melt even the hardest of hearts. He’d learned this lesson in college when asking his Grinch of an Ethics professor for some extra credit. “Please?”

Leo hesitated, but Finn could see the exact moment he caved. “Alright. But you’re getting paid.”

“Absolutely not. Consider it a Christmas gift.”

“I’ll pay you in food and coffee.”

“Deal.” Finn said, grabbing the shovel from Leo’s mittened hands. “Like I could ever say no to your food.”

Leo’ smile, warm and a little bashful, probably could’ve thawed the snow on the pavement if it was directed that way. “What would you like: sweet or savory?”

“Sweet,” Finn said instantly, even though he really preferred savory. His one-track mind was still stuck on dimples. “But I take my coffee black.”

“Comin’ right up.”

Finn watched him go, knowing that he had the dopiest smile on his face. Today was going to be a good day. And he knew a way to make it even better.

Finn dialed the number for Tremblay’s Trees, hoping more than anything that Logan would be the one to pick up. But of course he wasn’t that lucky. A bright, cheery voice answered the phone - definitely not Logan. “Tremblay’s Trees!0 This is Thomas, how can I help you?”

“Uh,” Finn said articulately, “Hi, I’d like to talk to Logan. Is he there?”

There was a slight pause, then: “Maybe. Who’s asking? And how do you know our dear Lolo?” The voice sounded curious, if not a little mischievous. Before Finn could answer, though, there was a scuffling over the line.

“Talker, give me the phone.”

“Oh, come on, I’ve got the five o’clock news slot tonight. Give the people what they want, Logan! Who’s your mystery caller?”

“I swear to god-”

The scuffling sound got louder, then there was a loud clatter when Finn assumed the phone hit the ground. He jerked his own phone away from his ear with a wince. “I am very confused.” He stated, not sure if anyone else heard him.

There was a small, softer rustle, then a breathless voice asked, “Hello?”

Finn couldn’t help but smile. “Hi, Lolo.”

That laugh was just as wonderful over the phone as it was in person. “Please don’t call me that.”

“Mmm… I might need to be convinced.” Finn said, letting some flirtiness slip through. “Anyways, I’ve got an idea. You busy today?”

“I’ve got the morning off. Why, what did you have in mind?”

So Finn, with the phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear, told the story of this morning as he shoveled – Nate not being able to make it to his shift, the ice and snow in Leo’s parking lot, Leo being behind on cooking and acting anxious. “So I was thinking we could do something? Like a surprise? And I know you guys need to actually sell things and make a living and stuff but I was thinking about decorating the diner? He just works so hard and he’s so stressed and I feel like he could use a little holiday cheer. What do you think?”

The other voice from earlier must have shouted, because he was loud enough to hear over the phone. “Phone guy! What the hell did you say to make him melt like that?”

Logan punched Talker in the shoulder. Hard. “I will lock you in the closet, Talker. Shut. Up.” His attention was brought back to the phone by Finn’s laugh and his demeanor softened again. He’d never met someone as chaotically considerate as Finn O’Hara. It was such a sweet, thoughtful idea. And it was something to help out Leo? How could Logan say no?

“Sounds like a plan.” Logan said, cradling the phone closer to his ear. “Most people already have their decorations so we don’t have a whole lot left, but I’ll see what I can find.”

“Perfect! Oh this is going to be so fun – fuck, I’ve gotta go. Customers just showed up. But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“Great. Ok see you soon bye!” The words reached Logan in a rush before the line went dead.

What a dork.

Logan was pretty sure he was half in love with him.

“So…” Talker said suddenly, making Logan spin around quickly. “Who are you pining over?”

Noelle, who had been passing by on her way to the kitchen, backpedaled in order to join the conversation. “Are we talking about Logan’s love life? Because I’m so here for that.”

Logan sighed and went to the coat rack by the door, grabbing his coat, toque, and scarf. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

They both promptly ignored him. Talker grinned at his fiancée, sensing trouble he could get into. “He’s become such a sap.”

Noelle snuggled up to Talker, turning her teasing gaze to her brother. “But if it’s who I’m thinking of, they have such good chemis-tree.”

“Did you guys practice this or something?”

“Hey man, don’t be so defensive.” Talker said, voice turning serious. “You know we’re all rooting for you.”

“I hate you both so much.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, Lolo.” Noelle sighed, giving him an over-the-top hug and obnoxious kisses to his cheek. “We’re just having some fun. Do you want us to stop needling you?”

“I’m having fun fir sure!” Talker shouted, then burst into raucous laughter, which stopped as abruptly as it started. “Wait. That wasn’t Leo on the phone. You've got eyes for someone other than him, now? Branching out a little, are we?"

“No.” Logan said instantly, then winced. Because his feelings for Leo definitely hadn’t changed. But then there was Finn… “Maybe. It’s complicated, ok?”

“The redhead that was hanging out with you and Leo on Monday?”

Logan felt his cheeks heat up but didn’t say anything. Monday had been the best, though. Showing the two of them the farm and how he did his job and watching their noses and cheeks turn adorable shades of pink from the cold. Even though he’d been there for a year, Leo still seemed in awe of all the snow. He clearly hated it, but Logan could tell he still found wonder and beauty in a clean blanket of undisturbed, freshly-fallen snow. Finn, even though he was clearly freezing too, kept cracking jokes the entire time, his voice muffled by his scarf. They’d walked and talked and learned more about each other among the saplings that would be full-grown and ready to be cut down by next season.

Yeah, Monday had been a great day.

And Logan was so screwed.

“Birch, please.” Noelle teased, then softened. “But really, Logan. Both of them were just as interested in you as they were in each other. You’ve got nothing to worry about, you just need to talk to them.”

He looked up from the buttons of his coat. “You think so?”

“Only one way to find out. What are you doing with them today?”

“We’re decorating the diner.” Logan pulled his hat on and looked over at his sister. “Do you think dad’ll be ok with me taking some garland and a wreath?”

Noelle scoffed. “With all the coffee and pastries you boy’s given us, I think he’s more than paid for it. Do you want company?”

“No.”

“Oh, come on,” Talker said, wiggling his eyebrows. “We’d make the perfect wingmen.”

“You did enough while I was on the phone, thanks.” Logan said, grabbing the keys from the counter. “Ok I’m headed out. See you later.”

Talker and Noelle sent a chorus of boos after him, only stopping when the door closed firmly behind him. He huffed out a laugh, shook his head, and headed towards the display counter to grab decorations. They were a little old since it was so close to Christmas day, but they’d have to do. Logan hesitated for a split second, then grabbed the Santa hat as well. They’d get a kick out of that. He threw the decorations in the back of the truck and took off down the road.

.

They actually worked really well together – Leo and Finn, that is. Finn dealt with customers while Leo made the food. They had a complex, intricate dance around the close quarters of the diner but they seemed to know the footwork already and could predict exactly what the other needed without blinking an eye. Leo peered out the kitchen window at Finn as he took orders at another table, laughing at something one of the women said. He was good at this. He was naturally outgoing and good with people, but he was also efficient and seemed to be able to keep track of twenty different things at once.

Leo frowned thoughtfully down at the grits on the stove. Logically, he shouldn’t like Finn. The redhead had appeared like a whirlwind and thrown everything off course. But then he went out of his way to be helpful and sweet and thoughtful even though it didn’t benefit him in any way. He had a big heart with a lot of love to give. And he gave it willingly to everyone, it seemed.

Don’t get him wrong, that was a good thing – it was a great thing. But it also made the past few days incredibly confusing. Was Finn treating Leo like everyone else, or did he want something more?

He definitely wanted something more with Logan, though. That much was obvious.

Leo just wasn’t sure how he fit into all of this.

Finn barging into the kitchen snapped Leo out of his thoughts. He looked up as Finn started looking around for something on the counters and shelves, tongue poking out in concentration. Leo couldn’t help but smile at the little detail.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, stepping away from the stove.

“The, um…” Finn said, trailing off as he continued to search, clearly distracted. “The spicy maple sauce for the chicken and waffles.”

“In the fridge.” Leo stated plainly, maneuvering around Finn to grab flour from the pantry, brushing against his back as he did so and trying to ignore how the simple touch heightened his awareness of the redhead. Finn threw open the fridge door, scanning the shelves.

“Where?”

“Second shelf from the bottom, on the right.”

A few seconds of silence, then: “Where?”

Leo laughed, dumping a cup of flour into a bowl and heading to the fridge. He peered over Finn’s shoulder, then reached around him with one long arm to grab the bowl of sauce. “Right in front of you, sweetheart.” He teased. Finn turned around so that he was facing Leo, a look that Leo had seen a lot in the past few days but still couldn’t identify on his face.

“Yeah,” was all he said, soft and a little strangled.

Leo looked away from those deep, brown eyes and down at the sauce. His heartrate picked up significantly. “Have you tried this yet?” At Finn’s shake of his head, Leo grabbed a spoon from a nearby drawer. “Figured I’d combine my roots with where I ended up, y’know? Tabasco, black pepper, maple syrup, and a few more secret ingredients.” He said with a wink, spooning some out and holding it out to Finn. “I’m pretty proud of it, if I do say so myself. Try it.”

Instead of grabbing the spoon from Leo, Finn just leaned forwards and tasted the sauce straight from the spoon in Leo’s hand. Leo’s breath hitched and his stomach swooped as Finn straightened again and met his eyes.

Oh, he could stare into those eyes forever. Eyes the same color of the coffee Finn had slid through the kitchen window about an hour ago with the words, “figured you could use some” before dashing off to clear another table. Leo had turned beet red, but grabbed the coffee and held it close before taking a sip.

Leo also hadn’t realized how close they were. The diner was small and the kitchen was cramped, but they definitely didn’t need to be standing this close. Not that Leo was complaining.

“Is it hot in here?” Finn murmured, gaze flitting from Leo’s eyes down to his lips and back again.

Leo seemed a little lost, too, leaning closer to the redhead without even realizing he was doing it. “Must be the sauce.”

It definitely wasn’t just the sauce.

The chime that alerted them to the front door opening startled both of them, forcing them to jerk away from each other and blush furiously.

“I, uh, I’m going to go check on that.” Finn said, still not looking away from Leo as he backed up.

“Ok.” Leo whispered, reaching back to grab the island behind him in an attempt to steady himself. Finn reluctantly tore his eyes away and disappeared from sight, leaving Leo reeling in the kitchen as he entered the dining area.

Finn’s mind was still back in the kitchen, wishing more than anything that he hadn’t been forced to step away. He’d never wanted to kiss someone senseless quite as much as he did right then. And how was he supposed to keep it together when all he wanted to do was flip the diner sign from open to closed and get Logan here and finally talk to them. They’d felt this pull - this magnetism - too. He knew they did. The only thing left to do was finally talk about it. 

Finn was forced to snap back to the present when the counter was suddenly covered in green needles, red berries, and festive ribbons. He looked up to see Logan grinning at him. Under his coat he was wearing red plaid, which matched the Santa hat perched on his head.

How was it possible to want two people so much at the same time? He couldn’t breathe with all the emotions overflowing in his chest.

“Ho ho ho,” Logan attempted to say, but cracked up before he could finish. Finn grinned and laughed as well, stepping forward to greet him.

“You should’ve used the chimney.” Finn joked, tugging on the end of his hat playfully. He got a smile and sparkling green eyes in return. Finn bit back a dreamy sigh. “But really, thank you. Leo’s gonna love this.”

Logan’s face grew a little worried. “How is he?”

Ha.

Haha.

That was a good question, since Finn left him standing there in the kitchen with the spoon still in his hand, looking a little lost.

He ended up shrugging, glancing back at the kitchen door longingly. “Better now. Still seems tired.”

“We’re going to have to force him to take breaks, aren’t we.” It wasn’t a question.

“Probably. If we tag team, I think we can manage to make it happen.” Finn looked down at the decorations. “So where are we putting these?”

Logan looked around the dining area, giving Finn a perfect view of his profile. He longed to kiss that strong jawline so badly, holy shit. “We could hang some over the kitchen window and some around the front window. And the wreath can go on the door.” Finn followed Logan as he maneuvered his way around tables to the front window, eyeing it critically. “The frame is wide enough that it should stay up on its own, so we won’t need nails or anything.” He grabbed the garland from the counter and then turned back around. Finn looked from him to the tall crown molding around the window.

“Need a ladder?”

“No.”

Finn laughed, grabbing one end of the garland and stretching up to place it on the ledge. Once it was secure, he looked over his shoulder at Logan and stuck his hand out for the other end. Logan hesitated, clearly wanting to do it himself, but quickly admitted defeat and handed it over. He huffed at Finn’s smug smile.

“Shut up.”

Finn laughed as he hung the garland. Logan was so small and grumpy and cute. Finn wanted to bundle him up in his arms and never let go. His little pocket-sized lumberjack. How adorable. He was so different from Leo, in basically every way. And yet Finn still wanted them both. How the hell did that work? 

“I should probably check on the customers.” Finn said reluctantly, glancing around at the breakfast crowd. “Do you think you can manage the kitchen window?”

“I got it.” Logan grumbled, sizing up his next target. Finn just shook his head fondly and started making his rounds to the occupied tables. Logan grabbed the remaining garland and headed behind the counter. He couldn’t help but stick his head through the window and look around. It was several degrees warmer in the kitchen than it was in the dining area. Logan was surprised at how tidy it was, considering how hectic the morning had been. There were a few scattered dishes in the sink, but the counters were mostly clean and organized, each bowl seemed to have a designated location. Leo, focused with his head down, maneuvered between stations with an effortless grace as he breaded a chicken tender and threw it into a frier. Logan never thought he’d be so entranced by something as simple as cooking but here he was, watching Leo hum along to the Christmas music on the radio as he poured batter into a waffle iron. He grabbed a mug of coffee off to the side and looked up as he took a sip, jumping when he saw Logan.

“Logan! Hey, honey!” He smiled, like seeing Logan was the highlight of his day. Logan yearned at the sight of that smile. He seemed to be doing a whole lot of yearning lately. “When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago. Brought you something.”

Leo arched an eyebrow. “That sounds a little ominous.”

“No,” Logan laughed. “No, it’s a good thing.” He held up the garland and wiggled it around a little, causing it to sway in the air.

Leo’s entire face lit up. “Christmas decorations?”

“It was Finn’s idea.” Logan said, looking back over his shoulder at the redhead. Leo visibly softened, smile gentle and eyes warm.

“He sure is sweet, isn’t he?”

You just need to talk to them, Noelle’s voice echoed in Logan’s head. Looking at Leo right then, he couldn’t help but think that maybe she was right.

.

“Sure is snowing hard out there, eh?” Logan asked several hours later as he looked out the window. It was a strange lull in the day – too late for lunch, but too early for dinner. They were all grateful for the break. Logan honestly wasn’t sure how Leo did this every day – it was exhausting.

Finn, who was sitting on the other side of the booth from Logan and Leo with his legs stretched out, pulled up the weather app on his phone. “It’s only supposed to get worse. They’re calling for a blizzard.”

Leo looked out at the snow worriedly. “I really don’t wanna drive home in all that.”

“Might need to close up early, then. No one’s going to be out in this weather, anyways.” Logan said, watching Leo bite his lip as he thought about it. “I could drive you, if you want.”

Leo looked over at him, relief clear in his eyes. “Would you?” He rushed to continue, “I don’t wanna inconvenience you or anything, and I know you need to get home too-”

“Leo,” Logan cut in with a smile. If Leo didn’t know Logan would do pretty much anything for him at this point, he was clearly oblivious. “I don’t mind, I promise.”

Leo seemed to accept it without further argument and looked over at Finn. “Do you wanna tag along? I was thinking about making cookies.”

“Well that depends.” Finn said with mock gravitas, leaning forward to rest his forearms against the table. “What kind of cookies are we talking?”

Leo matched his pose, mischief alight in his eyes. “I was thinking snickerdoodles, but I’d be willing to reconsider.”

“Sneak in some sugar cookies we can decorate and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

Leo and Finn shook on it, keeping it professional.

Logan was infatuated with the two of them.

“So you’re closing early?” He asked, excited at the prospect of spending the rest of the day with them. At Leo’s nod, he nearly sighed with relief. “Good. You need a break.”

Leo rolled his eyes, but smiled all the same. “Maybe I do.”

Finn grinned. “He finally admits it!”

“Ok, ok, I get it.” Leo sighed, shoving Logan’s shoulder repeatedly until he got out of the booth. Leo followed after him. “I’ve got to put stuff away in the kitchen and then I’ll be done.”

Logan and Finn shared a look before trailing after him. They worked together to clean up, put food away, and organize the receipts and cash register for the day. It went much faster with three people. Before they knew it, all three of them were piling into Logan’s pickup truck, bundled up against the cold and brushing freshly-fallen snowflakes off of their coats and out of their hair. Logan pulled out onto the road, driving while Leo gave directions from the passenger’s seat.

Leo’s house was nice – small, but it looked warm and well-loved. There was a snowman out front, complete with a scarf and carrot nose.

“Cute.” Finn said as they got out of the truck, walking up to the snowman. Leo smiled, fishing his keys out of his pocket.

“My friend’s little brother made that over the weekend.” He unlocked the front door and ushered everyone inside as he held the door for them. Leo’s house was all cool tones – soft blue and purples and greens. There was a tree in the corner of the living room by the window, all lit up and decorated. There were presents under the tree, wrapped in brown paper with ribbons and bows.

Leo hung his coat on the coat rack and took Logan’s and Finn’s from them. “So. Cookies?”

“Nope,” Logan said, grabbing Leo by the hand and tugging him towards the living room. “Rest first, then cookies.” Leo laughed, reaching behind him to find Finn’s arm and pulling him along with them.

“I won’t say no to a Christmas movie.” He agreed as they all collapsed onto the couch. Finn grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and threw it over the three of them while Leo grabbed the TV remote.

Logan moved closer under the pretense of getting under more of the blanket. He was now pressed up against Leo, butterflies in his stomach. “My vote is for Die Hard.”

Finn scoffed, throwing his legs over Leo’s and Logan’s thighs. “That doesn’t count as a Christmas movie.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Is it about Christmas? No. Case closed.”

Logan leaned forward to look around Leo at the redhead. “It takes place during Christmas!”

Leo just listened amusedly to the bickering as he flicked through movie titles. They were still arguing when he started the cute, old Claymation Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. Both boys trailed off as the introduction music started.

“This works.” Finn said, settling in to get more comfortable, his calves flexing against Logan’s thighs as he stretched. Logan hummed in agreement, eyes already glued on the screen.

They hadn’t even met Hermey the elf before Leo was sound asleep, head pillowed on Finn’s shoulder and breathing slow and even. Finn looked over blond curls at Logan and smiled, making his heart thud painfully in his chest. He needed to talk to them, and soon. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could sit there and keep all these feelings internalized.

But it could wait until after a nap. He snuggled up close and turned back to the TV.

.

“No, you need to-” Leo stopped and laughed, pointing to the recipe. “Teaspoon of vanilla extract, darlin’, not tablespoon.”

Finn switched out one measuring spoon for another with a wince. “That would’ve been bad, huh?”

“Very bad.” Leo agreed, looking over at the oven to see Logan already staring back at them, a wide, almost-giddy smile on his face as he started loading cookie dough balls onto a baking tray. One tray of snickerdoodles were already in the oven and spreading out rapidly as they cooked.

“We might’ve put those too close to each other,” Logan said, crouching down to look into the oven. “They’re all starting to stick together. It’s just one big, square cookie.”

“That’s ok. It’ll still taste good.” Leo said with a shrug. They both turned when Finn started banging on the table in time to the music.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas! There is just one thing I need!” He screamed, bopping along to the song. Logan laughed and let himself be tugged forwards to dance. Leo watched as they both jumped around and danced in the kitchen, hips swaying and acting like total dorks. But they were so happy, as well. Big smiles graced their faces as they laughed and sang and held each other close. Leo whisked wet ingredients together in a bowl and leaned back against the counter as he enjoyed the over-the-top show. They were cute together in the warm glow of the kitchen – a sharp contrast to the snow falling outside and collecting on the windowsill. Finn tilted his head back to shriek the last high note, causing Logan and Leo to both burst into fits of laughter.

“O’Hara, please don’t audition for Broadway.” Logan teased, still laughing a little. Finn scowled and grabbed a tea towel, spinning it up before whipping it at the brunet.

This started an all-out war. Many a cookie lost their life in the crossfire when Logan accidentally hit Leo’s arm as he was transferring cooled cookies into a tin. They had a warrior’s send-off as they were dumped into the trash can.

After the cookies were baked and decorated and the kitchen was cleaned thoroughly, it was pitch black outside. Leo had genuinely lost track of time, but he was selfishly grateful for it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for y’all to be driving in this weather in the dark.” He said, snagging a cookie from one of the plates and taking a bite as he tried to be casual about the two boys potentially staying the night. “I’ve got a guest bedroom and a pull-out couch if you wanna stay here.”

Finn and Logan looked at each other, then Logan shrugged. “If that’s ok with you.”

Ok? It was wonderful.

“Of course it is. I’ll go make up the beds and get y’all something to sleep in, ok?” Leo said before hurrying to his room, where he hastily made his bed and rummaged through his dresser for clothes. He muttered to himself as he pulled out two pairs of sweatpants. “Don’t make a big deal of this, Nutty. They’re just spending the night. That’s it.”

His mind fast-forwarded to imagine sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. They’d talk and laugh and just maybe share some coffee-flavored kisses.

Leo sighed, pressing his forehead against the edge of his dresser. “I’m screwed, ain’t I?”

.

Logan woke up to a gentle hand prodding his shoulder. He breathed in sharply as he remembered where he was and blinked his eyes open to be met with worried blue ones. “Leo?” He asked as he sat up, voice raspy with lack of use. “What’s wrong?”

He was greeted with an absolute onslaught of words. “There’s so much snow outside. Like, so much snow. I’ve never seen this much snow before. And I didn’t think it would be this bad so I don’t have any milk or bread or eggs in the house and I doubt I can get to the store. How long do you think the roads will be out? And what about the diner? Is snow damage a thing? Do I need to go check-”

Logan laughed softly, falling back against the pillows and covering his eyes with his forearm. “What – milk, eggs, and bread?”

“It’s a southern thing.” Logan couldn’t see him, but he could hear the pout in his voice. His vision was suddenly filled with blond bed-head and wide baby blues as Leo pulled his arm away from his face. If he could wake up to this every day, Logan would die a happy man. “Come on, sweetheart, I’m really freaking out right now.”

One of these days, the terms of endearment were actually going to kill him.

“I’m sure the diner’s fine. Besides, there’s not much we can do until the roads clear, so we’ll just have to wait it out.” Logan shifted over on the bed, leaving a Leo-sized spot open. He tugged on Leo’s arm until he crawled into bed, laying on his side to face Logan, their feet tangled together. Leo was wearing fuzzy socks.

Logan smiled at the sight in front of him, then closed his eyes again. “Go back to sleep, Leo. We’ll deal with it when-”

The door banged open to reveal Finn, face bright with excitement. “Snow! Have you guys seen all the snow? We should-” He stopped when he saw the two boys in bed, nestled together and still sleepy. He cleared his throat. “Uh, sorry. Didn’t mean to-”

“Cuddle.” Leo said, reaching up for Finn as well. “We should cuddle.” Finn smiled warmly and didn’t hesitate to clamber into bed on Logan’s other side, scooting in close and only elbowing Logan once as he got comfy. Logan grumbled, but quickly got over it when he felt a tentative arm wrap around him as he drifted back off to sleep.

.

Leo woke up to two boys asleep in bed with him and couldn’t think of a time when he was happier. They were all tangled together in a mess of limbs and blankets and pillows. It was warm and soft and Leo never wanted to leave. But he also wanted to surprise them with coffee and breakfast. Breakfast in bed wouldn’t be too obvious would it? He thought back to the past twenty-four hours and decided that if this wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t sure what was. Now it was just a matter of taking that next step and actually talking about it. So who cared if it was too obvious or not?

Leo glanced at Logan and Finn one last time. There was just something about seeing the two of them in his clothes. Logan’s sweaterpaws were visible from where he was grabbing onto Finn’s arm in his sleep. Finn was close to the same size as Leo so the clothes actually fit him pretty well. His face was pressed into brown hair, arm tightening around Logan as he huffed out a breath. The sight did something to Leo’s heart. He smiled dopily before sneaking out of bed, his back popping as he stretched. Ok, game plan: coffee, breakfast, talk. He could do this.

He crept down the hall and into the kitchen, trying to be as quiet as he could when getting a frying pan out and setting it on the stove. Next came the kettle for water to use in the French press, bacon, and ingredients to make homemade biscuits. Normally he would’ve done eggs, but they’d used all of them on the cookies yesterday.

The biscuits went into the oven and the bacon into the frying pan, sizzling away. So much for breakfast in bed. Leo knew the smell of food cooking would bring the other two out of the bedroom and, sure enough, he soon heard two pairs of footsteps headed towards him, one slightly muffled by too-long sweatpants hems dragging along the floor. He grabbed three mugs from the cabinet and sent a smile over his shoulder at the two boys.

Three cups of coffee: one black, one with cream only, and one with cream and sugar.

Leo pulled the biscuits out of the oven and quickly transferred them onto a plate, doing the same with the bacon before bringing both to the table.

“Leo, you’re an angel.” Finn said as he grabbed plates and silverware for the three of them. Logan hummed in agreement from in front of the fridge, where he was collecting butter and jams for the biscuits. They all joined each other at the kitchen table, still a little sleepy-eyed and half awake.

Leo, halfway through his first sip of coffee, passed Finn his mug of steaming black coffee, then Logan his own cup full of cream and sugar, just how he liked it. Logan looked down at it and sighed happily, “Love you, Nutter Butter.”

Finn’s head shot up. Leo choked on his coffee, cheeks heating up. Logan looked at them confusedly before he realized what he said and his face paled. “Shit.”

“You... you love me?” Leo asked, voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s heart ached a little at the look on Leo’s face. God, he should’ve told him a long time ago. In response he just slowly nodded, hesitantly meeting wide eyes and hoping for the best.

Leo smiled, letting out a soft laugh. “Honey, I’ve loved you for months.” He took a deep breath, as if gathering up his courage, then reached out to grab Finn’s hand. “And I think I’m falling for you, too. Judging from the way Logan stares at you when you’re not looking, he feels the same.” Leo looked from Finn to Logan hopefully. “Right?”

Finn squeezed Leo’s hand, finally daring to hope. Maybe he could actually have this. His heart thundered in his chest, so loud that Logan and Leo were bound to hear it. “And how does he stare at me when I’m not looking?”

Leo’s eyes flicked over to Logan with a smile. “Take a look for yourself.”

Finn’s breath hitched as he looked over into evergreen eyes, bright and gazing at him the same way Finn had caught him staring at Leo so many times before. He laughed a little in relief, tracing Logan’s cheekbone with gentle fingers.

“I was a little worried we were never going to have this conversation. And I know we’ve got a lot to figure out, but...” He trailed off, a little in awe. What were the odds of this? Everything seemed to fall perfectly into place, like puzzle pieces. It wasn’t some huge revelation, though. There were no grand romantic gestures, no race against time, no frantic outburst. It was calm and gentle like the sun rising outside, casting everything in light pastels and golds.

Logan just laughed softly, scooting his chair back with a loud scraping noise and standing up. “Stop just sitting there and come here, I’ve been wanting to kiss you two for forever.”

Finn scrambled up from his seat and all but threw himself at Logan, nearly bowling him over as he kissed him enthusiastically, arms wrapped tightly around Logan’s waist. Leo smiled as he watched them. He loved their dynamic – the bickering and teasing like they’d known each other for years, and yet the head-over-heels way they looked at each other and held each other and kissed each other. They were so comfortable together, not shying away from anything it seemed. Leo couldn’t wait to see how their relationship grew and evolved over time. He couldn’t wait to see how all three of them would grow together. He stood too and joined Logan and Finn, pressing kisses to their cheeks, their jaws, their necks – anywhere he could reach.

Finn broke the kiss to press his forehead against Logan’s, eyes closed and smile a mile wide. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the first time I saw you at that farm.” His eyes turned to Leo next. He reached up and cupped Leo’s face in his hands. “And I’ve wanted to kiss you since that first bite of pie.”

“What, was the muffuletta not good enough for – mmph.” Leo’s teasing words got cut off by Finn’s lips on his. He sighed into the kiss, draping his arms over Finn’s freckled shoulders and angling his head to deepen the kiss. He could taste black coffee on Finn’s lips and had never loved the flavor more. There was another hand at his back, stroking over his spine. Logan. Leo leaned back into his hand before breaking away from Finn to look at Logan – the guy he’d been pining after for just shy of a year.

“How did I get so lucky?” He murmured, prompting Logan to lean up and kiss him, softly and heartbreakingly gentle. Leo kissed him with purpose, running his tongue against Logan’s bottom lip and causing his breath to hitch.

He thought back to his musings of the night before during his panic in his bedroom and laughed against Logan’s lips. The brunet made a questioning humming noise, so Leo leaned back just far enough to whisper, “Maybe I’m clairvoyant.”

Finn laughed, bewildered. “What?”

Leo just glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, smiled, and combed a finger through red tresses. Sleep-mussed hair, soft smiles, and rough morning voices. Sitting at the table together, nursing cups of coffee as the sun rose over a clean, white blanket of snow. Talking and laughing and sharing some coffee-flavored kisses. Those had been his thoughts last night. And here he was, suddenly getting all of those things.

“Nothing, sweetheart.” Leo said, looking down at his two with overflowing fondness as he thought of the future and hoped that those musings would come true, too.

[bicycle4two]

say you wanna, say you wanna be || Sam Drake x Reader || Chapter 3

Summary: Sam isn't looking for a girlfriend and, frankly, you don't think you'd be a good one anyway, but you two aren't some one-night stand and it's been a long time since either of you thought of each other as a convenient booty call. This is something more, something the two of you didn't realize would be. It's uncharted territory. And there is no other choice but to figure out how to navigate through it together.

Pairing: Sam Drake x Fem!Reader

Tags(ish): developing relationship, implied/non-explicit sexual content, romance/fluff/hurt/comfort, age difference (though reader’s age is not stated), switching povs (second person reader, third person sam), no y/n but reader has a nickname

C.1 || C.2

Chapter Three:

There’s a memory that haunts you from when you were young. It’s always there at the back of your mind, coming up at the most inconvenient of times. Well, it’s not like there is a convenient time for you to remember such a thing but sometimes it catches you when you’re at a really bad place.

Sometimes you remember it when you have one who hides their phones for more reasons than just “privacy,” one who only takes you out when there’s no one around who knows the two of you, one who disappears without a trace only to come back with flowers and excuses, the smell of another woman’s perfume on their clothes.

Sometimes you remember it when there’s nothing for you to worry about, like now, when you’re under Sam, his weight more comforting than suffocating, trying to catch your breath after a mind shattering orgasm. Your ceiling, something that’s never been impressive before, has your full attention as you try to gather yourself, lure your soul back into your body.

“I-I think. I think I lost my vision for a second there,” you breathe out, earning a chuckle from Sam.

“You flatter me, princess.”

“What was that? I can’t hear either,” you push your hair away from your face. It’s damp with sweat. You’re going to need another shower. “I think I entered another dimension. I think I saw God.”

Sam pushes himself off of you and kisses you gently on the lips. You’d think he was asking for another round if he wasn’t as tired as you. “Not God,” he says, voice deep. He’s caught his breath, the rise and fall of his chest steady. It’s kind of funny that a smoker can recover faster than you. “Just me.”

And it’s the word “just” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings forth the memory that you’ve desperately try to keep at the back of your mind, locked up and buried. It’s the memory of a phone screen, a chat with a coded name, pictures of a woman you don’t know. A woman who isn’t your mother that your father messages, saves pictures of.

You were young when you found out, much younger than you are now, and although deep down, you knew, you’ve always known your father was a man who could not be trusted, a man who had straying eyes, long trips with women he called friends, you were hurt. Betrayed. Because you always thought that things like this only happened on TV, in books, to friends and classmates.

But not you.

And yet, here you are, in bed with a man who hides his phone, disappears for long periods of times, and has a history you don’t even know where to begin to look into. A man who acts so much like the ones before, only sweeter, gentler, but still suspicious.

And you’ve been hurt by men like him before and you don’t know if you can take another blow. Not from someone like Sam.

So, you push away the memory and say, “Just you and,” And you hesitate for a second, find the courage somewhere deep inside you to ask, to finally ask, “And it’s just me, right?”

“You scared me for a second,” Sam lets out a breath you didn’t know he was holding and you realize that you had paused at the wrong word, the double meaning. You offer him a small smile, an apology. “Yes, it’s just you.” He confirms and you feel yourself relax, only away now of how tense you were.

“Good,” you say, looking back up at your ceiling. “That’s good. I, uh, I wasn’t sure.”

“This has been bothering you?” Sam gets off of you and you instinctively cover yourself with a pillow as Sam has your blanket thrown over his waist. You never thought you’d have this conversation with him. You never thought you’d get to ask one of your questions and actually get an answer. You wish that you had clothes on for this.

“A bit,” you say. “I know we aren’t, well, a thing, but when I saw you with your sister-in-law and when I didn’t know she was your sister-in-law, I have to say, I panicked.”

“You thought I was cheating on you?” Sam lets out a chuckle like the thought of it is absurd but he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know what went through your mind that day in the café.

“I thought you were cheating on her. I’m not really a fan of being the other woman.”

Sam winces and you can see that there’s something he wants to ask but doesn’t know if he should. Huh. You wonder if you’re that easy to read.

“From experience,” you end up saying anyway, just because you know how it feels to have your questions answered. “It would be nice, I think, if we’re clear on some things. Be on the same page, you know?”

“I’m not looking for a girlfriend.” Sam looks at you straight in the eye, like this is important, that if you don’t get this then that’s that. And you do get it because for all the things you don’t know about Sam, you can at least say you knew this.

“I know. I can’t say I’d be a good one anyway.” You know you can’t base your worth on past relationships but sometimes you can’t help but think that there was something you lacked, that you came up short somewhere, that made the relationships turn sour. Psychopaths and unfaithful husbands aside. “But we aren’t exactly a one-night stand anymore.”

Sam rubs the back of his neck and the action causes you to look at his tattoos, the familiar sight of birds in flight. Tim had mentioned them that day in the café, said something about prison tattoos, and you’d just rolled your eyes at him. But then you think about the scars and gunshot wounds and you can’t exactly say that Sam lives a normal, danger-free life.

“So, what do you want, princess?” Sam asks, reaching down to pick up his shirt. It seems like his clothes weren’t flung too far from the bed. You can see your pants by your bedroom door. “Cuz I don’t know what I can give ya.”

“Well,” you play with the ends of your pillow case just so you have something to do with your hands. There are so many things you want. Answers, for one thing. That’s number one. But Sam looks tired and you sort of feel guilty for springing this on him. Because, again, this isn’t a normal relationship. He doesn’t owe you anything and if you ask for more than he can give, well, this just isn’t going to work.

And you want this to work. You can’t deny yourself that truth. You want whatever it is Sam can give you. So, you say, “It wouldn’t hurt if you’d give me a heads up before you leave for God knows where. It’s not fun thinking you’ve gotten tired of me and just disappeared off of the face of the earth.”

Sam lets out a breath you don’t think he realized he was holding. “A call, I can do that.”

“You can even just text me. Email. I don’t have a pager but if that’s how you work…”

“I’m not that old, princess,” Sam rolls his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “I’ll call you. I promise.”

And it’s the word “promise” that sticks to you, that repeats itself over and over in your head, that brings a smile to your face.

 ...

It’s the same old song and dance and you swear you’d give up your left kidney for the tune to change, for the choreography to switch up, because Tim’s on your case again and you’re getting really close to filing a request that you two don’t share the next few shifts together.

(But then Agatha would be questioning you as well and you’re sure that half the questions Tim asks are echoes of Agatha’s and she’s honestly the harder of the two to deal with. So, damnit, you’re going to have to suck it up. Deal with the kid.)

“Is this really the kind of relationship you want to have?” Tim asks, leaning against his broom for support. The café’s closed for the day and the two of you are in charge of cleaning and inventory. Agatha’s in the back, balancing the day’s earnings. 

“This again, Tim?” You glare at the stain on the table your wiping, spraying it once more before scrubbing the surface harder. You’re not going to lie, you’re picturing Tim’s face, attacking your imagination instead of the person. Even if it’s tempting, oh so tempting.

“It’s just weird that he just goes off unannounced and doesn’t come back for weeks.”

“Ever heard of a business trip?” The table is shaking from your force, the surface almost like a mirror from how shiny it’s getting.

Tim scoffs. “I’ve seen your boyfriend—”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“—And I’m pretty sure he doesn’t have a nine to five office job.” Tim goes back to sweeping even though the floor is clean. He really should get the mop but he hates handling it. “Also, daddy kink? Didn’t think you were the type.”

“Oh my God. It’s not like that!” You groan, throwing your dirty rag at him. Tim yelps when it hits him on the back. Honestly, he should have seen it coming. “And we’ve talked, okay? Ages ago. He doesn’t leave without warning anymore.”

“The bar is really low.”

“Shut up, Tim.” Your phone is ringing, saving you from this conversation and punching your co-worker in the face. “Hello?” You say once you answer your phone, smiling. It’s Sam.

“Hi, princess,” Sam grunts out and you frown at his tone.

“Hi, uh, are you okay?”

Tim is looking at you now, blatantly listening in, and you turn your back to him, facing the painting on the wall. You never really understood this piece, but Agatha likes it.

“Yeah. I’m great! Just—wait a second.” You hear Sam suck in a breath and all of a sudden there’re gunshots. You jump in surprise, shoulders rising, tense, and you have to pull your phone away from your ear from the sheer volume of it. “Okay. I’m back.”

“Sam. Please tell me you’re playing a video game.”

“Huh? Yeah, sure, if that makes you feel better. Wait.” You hear the crunch of gravel, quick and quiet footsteps, and then the sound of surprise before a crack and thud. “Sorry. Anyway, so I have a problem.”

“I’m almost afraid to ask what it is.”

“It’s nothing bad. I promise,” his voice is quiet now. Like he doesn’t want anyone else to hear him. “Y’see. I told you about my job, right?”

“I mean, all you said was you were going to…I want to say Japan. You were in India last time.”

“Yeah! Beautiful country, by the way. We should go next time.” Sam says in one breath and you feel your heart skip a beat. A trip? With Sam? “If I don’t get banned from the place. Which would be a shame, really, cuz the food’s great—hang on.”

There’re gunshots again and then running. You don’t realize that you’re outside the café until a strong wind blows by. You had walked out the door when it seemed like this wasn’t going to be a normal check in. Which was almost immediately, to be frank. From the corner of your eye, you see Tim watching you, broom still in his hands, the rag on the floor by his feet. You wave him off, turning your attention back to Sam. You hear him shout “This is a goddamn temple! Show some respect!” before he gets back to you.

“Where was I?”

“What the hell is going on, Sam?”

“Nothing to worry about, princess. What there is to worry about is my fish.” Sam’s whispering again, ragged. He’s catching his breath. “Y’see. I told you where I was going but I forgot to tell my little brother and, well, someone has to feed my fish.”

“Oh.” You ignore the crunch and thud you hear from Sam’s line. You’re too busy thinking about this fish you’ve never heard of. There’s so much information to unpack right now but the fish is what you zero in on. It’s the only thing that makes sense. “Oh shit.”

“Oh shit’s right. I can’t believe I forgot Jimmy like that.”

Jimmy? “Can, can a fish live this long without food?”

“Now, princess, that’s not the kind of talk I need to hear right now.” There are sounds of movement again. Rustling now, too. Like leaves. “I need you to tell me that Jimmy’s going to be fine. That I did not just leave my fish to die alone.”

“I’ll go to him. Just, uh, I don’t have your key.” You know where he lives, you’ve been there a few times when all of this started, pre-Jimmy, but Sam was always there. You never needed to go there alone and you were never left there alone.

“You have one. I left my spare in your room. Y’know, for emergencies.”

“Were you ever going to tell me that?”

“Didn’t think I had to. It’s in plain sight, princess.” He grunts out. “Listen, I have to go, but check your dresser. It should be there. Save Jimmy!!”

  Jimmy is, thankfully, miraculously, fine. His tank needs a little cleaning but you’ve fed him and made sure that there’s enough water for him to swim around in. The top of his castle was starting to peak out. When that’s all done, you send a picture to Sam. You don’t think he’ll see it anytime soon so you toss your phone away and collapse onto his couch.

You’re tired. Apparently getting Sam’s spare key wasn’t as easy as you thought because after sprinting to the bus stop and up the stairs to your apartment, stumbling into your bedroom, you did not find a key at your dresser. No.

After messing up what was once an organized table, you find a note that was clearly written by Sam stuck on your corkboard along with all your other notes written for yourself. Reminders that you needed to go through before the start of your day. Things you’ve long since memorized and never bother to read anymore. That’s Sam’s idea of an “in plain sight” note. Which is also a clue, a riddle that led you to another part of your room, then to your kitchen, underneath your couch, and then to your bedside table, the side he sleeps on. There you find the key taped under a laminated flower. It was the one you had with you when you’d first met Sam. And if Sam recognized it, and you’re pretty sure he did, well you’re glad he wasn’t around for you to find it.

Your phone rings, jolting you out of your daze. You almost fell asleep, the adrenaline gone. You reach for it, refusing to leave your spot, and manage to answer it before the caller hung up. To your surprise, it’s Sam.

“Finally figured out video call?” You say once his face appears on your screen. His holding his phone a little too close but you don’t correct him, finding it cute.

“And you found the key!” Sam says back. “Thanks for saving Jimmy, princess.”

“I read somewhere that goldfish can actually go two weeks without food.”

“Doesn’t mean he has to. C’mon. That’s my roommate.”

“I’m just saying,” You smile because even you wouldn’t want to leave a fish hungry. “Oh. Also. You and I have completely different interpretations of ‘for emergencies.’”

“Hmm? What do you mean?”

“If I left you something for emergencies, I’d like to think you’d be able to get to it immediately.” You whip the smile of your face. Exchange it with a raised brow, an unamused gaze. “Making me hunt for clues all over my apartment isn’t something I’d like to do in emergency situations.”

Sam lets out a laugh. “Ah. Well, I guess I picked up a few things from work.”

“It would have bitten you in the ass if I didn’t find that key.”

“I had faith in you, princess.”

...

Chapter 4 

Read on AO3

[damnlance]

Number 3 for the klnace prompts please 🥺

Klangst Prompt #3:

“Can you please just.. hold me..?”

Summary: Lance has been having a hard time accepting his altean marks. Luckily, Keith arrives and is there to help him.

-

It’s been two years. two whole years since the war ended and the paladins made it back home to earth. two whole years since their lions took off in the middle of the night and never came back. and two whole years since Allura..

Since Allura died sacrificed herself to save the universe.

It would be an understatement to say that everyone came back home fine, because that was not the case. Coming back home meant bringing along nightmares that kept you up all night, unwanted, out-of-the-blue flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping out of your skin at any sound louder than a whisper, and much more. So, so much more.

For Lance, coming back home meant he could be with his family again, but leaving Allura behind was never part of the plan.

And Lance is reminded of her every single time he looks into the mirror.

It’s a blessing and a curse. A blessing because at least he has a little part of her that he can see and touch and feel. But a curse because the part of her that he can see and touch and feel.. isn’t her.

He’s gotten used to his Altean markings since Allura gave them to him but even after two years, it’s still hard. Sometimes he goes an entire day without noticing them, forgetting they’re even there on his cheeks. But one tiny hint of emotion and boom.

They’re glowing.

Most of the time it's just a dim glow, a grayish light blue that’s only visible from his peripheral view. But on certain occasions, when he’s really up in his head and he can’t come down, they’re bright. They’re bright and buzzing and loud and blinding right there on his face for the entire world to see.

It’s rare, though.

And in the few times that it's happened, Lance always has the same feeling deep down in the trenches of his gut, with the same question burning in the back of his mind.

“Why me?”

For the longest time after the war, he shut everyone out. He hated being the center of attention, hated having all eyes on him, everyone looking at him like he was some fragile vase and if you said one thing that might trigger him, he’d break into a thousand pieces. He especially hated when his friends and family stopped looking him in the eyes when they spoke to him, their eyes glued to his markings which had them apologizing right after when he caught them, pushing him to continue with whatever he was saying.

It was too much..

He stopped going out in public or where there were people, and eventually locked himself in his room at all times. But he knew that that was a bad thing to do. Because it was just him all alone. Him and his markings. And that always made the thoughts in his mind and the feelings in the gut of his stomach come back to the surface of his health and spin him completely out of control.

Lance felt like he was on autopilot. He tried everything to cover his markings; hats, sunglasses, makeup, even stickers from his niece and nephew’s sticker books. It still did nothing to hide the fact that they were actually there.

And when times got drastic, he tried to take them off of his face. Literally.

When his family began to notice his distant behavior, they didn’t question it or push him to talk. They could never know what he went through in space, or how deeply he cared for Allura. But one family member in particular was really worried.

Veronica. She could read him like the back of her hand and when the other members of his family were too scared to confront the former Paladin, not knowing how he would react, Veronica stepped up to the plate.

She tried her best to be subtle and at first it worked. Her checking on him by helping him around the farm instead of being at work on the Atlas, tending to his every need when he asked, even guilt tripping him to going out to the store only to conveniently run into Hunk or Pidge or Shiro. And Lance knew all her little games of course, he just.. didn’t care.

So Veronica decided to call a distant friend.

That distant friend being the one person who knows Lance almost as well as she does.

The one and only Keith Kogane.

She called him in confidence and they talked a couple of times here and there. About the universe, his job with The Blade, and importantly, about Lance and his well-being. And it’s not like Veronica didn’t try to contact any of Lance’s other friends like Hunk, Pidge, or Shiro. She did. And he found out when they took him out for bowling and laser tag and he overheard them talking about it.

Yeah, let’s just say his marks were really glowing that night he confronted her about meddling in his life again.

But Keith was different. He was special. Veronica knew how strongly Lance felt about him and after a couple of different attempts to get Lance out of his room, or to talk about what was going on, she had no choice but to bring in the big guns.

Aka Keith.

It wasn’t easy, begging asking Keith to fly back to earth and take some time away from working with The Blade to comfort his sad friend who he hasn’t seen or talked to in months. But who else could get inside of Lance’s head like Keith?

So they made a plan. Keith would arrive back on Earth in two weeks on the Saturday before the McClain family dinner they have every Sunday night. And to make sure things wouldn't be too weird or staged, Veronica would also invite Hunk, Shiro and Curtis, and Pidge and Matt as well. It would be great for everyone to be together again anyway.

Saturday Evening.

The day was winding down to something calm and peaceful. Lance decided to get up and spend his day tending to the farm. He cleaned out the barn, fed the chickens, gathered some eggs, milked Kaltenecker and even gave her a nice bath. His family was gone, out for the day running errands, and the quiet wasn’t too loud or suffocating for once. It was surprisingly nice. After the chores were finished, Lance plucked some fresh juniberry flowers for the vase in his room and headed back up the hill to his home.

What he was expecting to see is maybe his family’s truck parked over by the big oak tree just outside his house.

But what he got instead, was a cruiser.

A galra cruiser.

And leaning against said galra cruiser with his arms crossed and a warm smile on his face is the one and only Keith Kogane.

Lance stops breathing as he stares at his old friend. He can’t believe Keith is even here right now, standing 50 feet away. Is this some kind of trick of the sunset? Lance rubs his eyes. Nope. It’s real. A small smile graces Lance’s lips as he takes a deep breath and makes his way over.

As he gets closer, Keith pushes himself off of the cruiser to meet Lance halfway. “Hey there, sharpshooter,” are the first words out of his mouth, his deep voice sending a chill down Lance’s spine.

“K-Keith,” Lance sputters, confusion and excitement pouring through his voice. They’re bodies meet together in a big, warm hug that has the hairs on Lance’s arms standing on end. Keith hugs him like he hasn’t seen him in a long time. And he hasn't. It’s been six and a half months since they last saw each other, or even spoke. Things with The Blade have been so busy that Keith rarely gets a chance to stop by to say hello or even stay a few nights. Of course, communication works both ways and Lance has spoken to him. He’s written Keith a letter for every other day. Yep. They’re all underneath his pillow in his room, ready to be opened and read by Keith eyes. That’s besides the point, he just can’t believe that Keith is HERE!

Lance pulls away, confusion still plastered on his face. Keith pats his shoulder and smiles that genuine, beautiful, once in a full moon smile that has Lance’s heart hammering inside his chest.

“Surprised?” Keith asks, folding his arms over his chest.

Lance reaches out and punches the half galran in his left pec, sending him stumbling back a bit. “Hell yeah I am, dude! W-what are you doing here!?”

“What,” Keith’s smile doesn’t falter as he shrugs. “Can’t a guy come back to earth to see his friends once in a while?”

Lance scoffs. “Uh, once in a while would be like every other week, not six and a half months!”

Keith’s eyes widen. “Shit, has it been that long??”

“Yeah, man.” Lance nods, rubbing the back of his neck. “I mean, I would know.. been subconsciously counting down the days or.. w-whatever..” A light blush decorates his cheeks and ears as Keith continues to stare at him. Then, he smiles again and weakly punches Lance’s arm. Lance takes a good look at him; tall, muscular, visible stubble decorating his chin and upper lip, dark hair pulled back into a messy ponytail that reaches his shoulder blades. He looks.. good.

“Why don’t we catch up then?” Keith asks with a softness in his voice that has Lance’s already hammering heart going haywire.

“S-sure thing.” Lance can barely meet Keith’s violet eyes as they begin their ascend up the hill to Lance’s home.

They talk on the porch swing until the sun goes down and the bright stars in the sky come up. Keith tells Lance all about how he and The Blade are doing amazing at fulfilling their mission as a humanitarian relief organization and all the planets they’ve helped. Lance listens thoroughly as Keith goes on and on, something about the way Keith’s eyes shine as he talks about his adventures up in space with his mother and Kolivan. It’s almost enough to lull Lance to sleep but he wouldn’t dare miss a second of Keith’s stories. After a while, Lance offers Keith some sandwiches and a few beers, to which he happily accepts, and they eat together in a nice comfortable silence.

“So,” Keith says after a small sip of his beer, “Enough about me. What’s been going on with you?”

Lance picks at his half eaten sandwich and shrugs. “Nothing as amazing as what you’re doing, that’s for sure.”

“Ah, come on,” Keith nudges him gently, “Tell me all about what’s been going on around here? The juniberry’s are looking nice.” He gestures to the open field and Lance exhales a small chuckle.

“Thanks.. I mean, I’ve been.. a-alright..”

Keith studies his face with a slight frown but doesn’t move to say anything as he senses Lance isn’t finished.

“But..” Lance lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. A cool night breeze runs through his hair and he shivers a bit before turning his body to Keith.

“Yeah?” Keith answers, mirroring Lance’s body language.

“It’s been..” Lance stares at his sandwich, “Hard. Still.. like everywhere I look, I expect her to be there but.. she isn’t.. and I feel so..”

Keith watches as Lance sits there, looking down at his hands. He clenches them into fists and then..

He laughs.

A shaky, breathy laugh that has Keith confused as to what is funny.

Lance sniffs and then looks up to meet Keith’s eyes, shaking his head.

“I’m good, man.” He says instead. But the wavering in his voice says otherwise. Keith bites his bottom lip and tries to think of a way to say what he wants without it coming out as something that could push Lance away. Then he remembers all of the stuff Veronica told him about Lance’s health and mental state. Keith does a once over to really look at Lance this time, under the dim porch light. He looks like how Veronica says he might be feeling. Sad. Tired. Lonely. Although he does look good, the chores and things needed to be done around the farm toning up his physique, Keith finally sees the wear and tear the after effects of war has put him through. And it’s not much different than how Keith looks. Or Shiro. Or Hunk or Pidge and even Matt and Coran.

Keith ponders this for a while and then lets out a small breath. “Lance?” He says, voice soft and full of compassion.

Lance looks up and meets him, his hard gaze searching for something in Keith’s irises. Keith smiles shyly and reaches out to grab a hold of Lance’s slender hands. Lance looks down at their hands, studying their similarities and their differences. Keith’s got giant hands that are paler in comparison, but just as callous as Lance’s. They bring him a weird sense of comfort and as he looks up to meet Keith’s eyes once more, tears fill his own.

Panic rises in Keith’s features and he holds Lance’s hands tighter. “Hey, hey,” he says, “W-What's wrong??”

“Nothing, nothing,” Lance shakes his head, exhaling another laugh. “It’s just..” He sniffs, trying his hardest to blink away his tears. “You.”

“Me??” Keith shakes his head. “What did I-”

“You being here,” Lance cuts him off, looking up to stare into Keith’s eyes. “I’m really happy.. happiest I’ve been in a while.. I know that things got super busy and we have our own lives now, but I’m sorry that we kinda.. fell off. I’ve missed you. I do.. miss you.”

Keith’s pulse jumps as his ears eat Lance’s words, syllable by syllable. Those watery blue eyes are boring into Keith so hard, Keith feels like he could sink into them and would be totally okay with it. So he reaches forward and cups Lance’s cheek, moving closer to his face. He presses his forehead to Lance’s and very quietly breathes-

“I’ve missed you too, Lance,” He smiles, “So much. I think of you everyday and the one thing that keeps me going is you.”

“What, little ole’ me?” Lance says in a horrible southern accent that has the both of them giggling. Keith nods and rubs his thumb over Lance’s Altean mark.

“All of you,” Keith whispers, leaning forward to place a small, chaste kiss to Lance’s mark. It has Lance blushing like crazy and his Altean markings glowing bright between them. His emotions get the better of him and he lets his tears fall down his cheeks as he nuzzles his forehead against Keith’s, swallowing a sob threatening to pour out of his throat.

“Can you please just.. hold me..?” Lance asks, watery eyes locked with Keith’s.

And Keith damn near melts. “Of course.” He answers as Lance moves closer to his opened arms. He lays his head on Keith’s shoulder, slotting it perfectly in the junction of where Keith’s shoulder and neck meet, and sighs blissfully.

“I’m so tired.” He whispers.

“Sleep, Lance,” Keith whispers back, kissing his head. “Sleep.”

Lance nods, closing his eyes. “Guess this means you’re staying for dinner tomorrow night?”

“Don’t forget breakfast and lunch, too,” Keith says, leaning over to place a chaste kiss on Lance's temple. “If you’ll have me.”

“I would love that.” And when Lance finally drifts off to a peaceful sleep, his eyes catch sight of the light that bounces off of his cheeks. It’ll take a while but for tonight, he doesn’t mind the bright, buzzing, tingling feeling of his Altean markings. Not anymore.

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt!)

[wingsofanillyrian]

Lights Over Monaco: Chapter 3

Day late but here you go! Thank you to @acourtofcouture​ for beta-ing and putting up with me!

Chapter Masterlist

The six hour flight left Nesta well rested and refreshed as she checked into her hotel. She texted Jacob to check in and make sure none of his equipment had gotten lost on the flight. Having arrived a day earlier, he had been lurking around paddocks in hopes of capturing any drama on film.

He assured her everything had made it safely and informed her there were rumors flying about transmission troubles with the McLaren team. Nesta told him to keep an eye on it and unpacked her suitcase.

Nesta had just sat down when her phone rang. It was Tomas. Sighing, she decided she couldn’t avoid him forever.

“Tomas,” She answered coldly.

“About damn time you picked up the phone,” He replied, remorseless. He wasn’t earning himself any points. “What room are you in?”

She frowned. “How do you know if I’m even in Baku?”

“Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to find out flight numbers.” Interesting, he was keeping tabs on her.

“I don’t want to-”

“I said what room?”

Nesta sank back in the plush chair. Truthfully, she did want to see him, if only to determine what he had to say for himself. She couldn’t let go of the hope that somehow this was all a simple misunderstanding.

“Fourteen twelve,” She told him, instantly regretting it.

She heard him shuffling on the other end. “Five minutes.”

A knock on her door sounded a few minutes later, and she let Tomas in. “I saw the story.”

“Obviously,” Nesta scoffed, crossing her arms. Tomas reached for her but she stepped away. His eyes went bright with anger. She would not make this easy for him.

“I tried calling you.”

“I am aware.” Nesta picked at her nails to hide her trembling, trying to appear utterly nonplussed. “Did you sleep with her?”

“Yes.”

Nesta froze. Ever so slowly, her gaze slid to Tomas. Back straight, chin jutting out, staring down his nose at her. He still showed no sign of regret, nothing that would indicate he made a mistake.

“Why?” She rasped, fighting back tears. Tomas was not worth it.

He shrugged. “Because I wanted to. You and I are just fucking anyways. What does it matter?”

Nesta recoiled, blinking. “I can’t do this.” She had grossly miscalculated their entire relationship. Her palms began to sweat, her breathing increasing to a fever pitch. She pressed a hand to her chest, praying that the pressure would prevent her glass heart from shattering. Instead, it pushed the shards further into her lungs, making each breath ragged.

“Get out,” She whispered. Tomas scoffed, stepping forward.

“Nesta-”

“Out!” She repeated, more forcefully. She only needed to hold herself together for a few more seconds until he was out the door, then she could crumble.

Tomas’ face twisted. “Fine. I’ll see you at the paddock tomorrow anyway, I’m sure.”

Nesta let out a choked sob as soon as the door slammed shut. Her resolve broke, the dam inside of her punched through. Tears flowed freely down her face as she fell to her knees. She shouldn’t have loved him. 

Before they had met, she knew he was nothing but a heartbreaker. He went through women the way a drunk went through a bottle of liquor. Tomas viewed women in the same way as well; objects to be used until they were no more than empty shells and then discarded.

Nesta let the grief crash against her for a handful of minutes before she realized how useless it was. Tomas would never love her. Honestly, she wasn’t sure if he was capable of feeling such an emotion at all. There was no use letting him affect her.

Gathering her strength, Nesta stood. She looked at the sorry image in the mirror, taking in the red eyes, the mascara tracking down her cheeks, the disheveled hair. She wouldn’t let a man crush her. She had made it this far by blinding herself to the sneers and derogatory comments thrown at her. Why couldn’t she do the same to get over Tomas?

But as she climbed into bed, she realized how flawed that mentality was.

**********

Sunday’s race kept Nesta busy. Lucien and Azriel collided in lap three, causing a safety car and ultimately leading to the pair of them being unable to finish the race. Nesta had seen it on a television hanging in the Mercedes garage, the entire team letting out a collective shout when Vanserra didn’t yield to Azriel in the 90 degree turn and the Red Bull tangled with the Mercedes. Both cars were a mess of broken carbon fiber and snapped suspension bits.

Nesta managed to corner Azriel and get a few heated words out of him, a rare bit of annoyance showing through his usual calm. “Vanserra should have cut into the corner more sharply. He was way off the racing line.”

“Some people would say that you should have backed off and yielded the position to him,” Nesta added, hoping to get him worked up further. “What are your thoughts on that?”

Azriel glared at the camera, addressing anyone who dared think the incident had been his fault. “If you’re not allowed to defend, what’s racing about, then?”

Azriel turned on his heel and belined back to the garage. Jacob lowered the camera and turned to Nesta to ask, “You don’t actually believe it was Azriel’s fault, do you?”

“Of course not.” Nesta’s attention returned to the monitors and she grimaced. The racing incident had allowed Tomas to move up into first. Cassian was only a second behind, but struggling to overtake. At least she no longer had to be invested in Tomas holding his position. She couldn’t care less if he won or not.

In the end, it was Tomas taking home top points for Red Bull, Cassian bringing home 18 for Mercedes and Varian with a handful for McLaren spraying the champagne on the podium. Red Bull’s one stop strategy meant that when Cassian dipped into the pits on lap 38 for a fresh set of soft compound tires and one of the wheel nuts got stuck, Tomas was the clear winner. Cassian had no way to make up the 10 second deficit. The 25 points Tomas’ first place finish awarded him allowed him to slip past Cassian and snag the championship lead. 

And gods, was he smug about it.

Nesta told herself she didn’t care when Tomas sauntered into the press pen, his self-satisfied smile directed at her as he sat. Cassian and Varian filed in moments later, each silent as they took their seats. The room paused, Cassian’s hazel eyes flicking to where she sat front row. Everyone was waiting…. For her.

But her mind was blank. Not a single race related question surfaced. Nesta panicked, clenching a fist hard enough to feel her nails bite her palm. After a few beats of silence, the roar of the other reporters filled her head.

They had been waiting for her to ask something - anything - and she couldn’t come up with a single damned thing to say.

Jacob nudged her side. “You good?”

Nesta was too lost in the tangled web of thoughts to reply. This had all been a game to Tomas; his attitude now told her that. He had used her to gain favor with other teams and build a solid reputation with fans. After all, what better way to gain positive media attention than to have the sport’s most infamous writer in your bed?

She managed to keep her face carefully blank until the end of the conference. She didn’t say a word to Jacob as he packed up, shooting her confused glances all the while. The walls of the room pushed in on her, chest becoming tight. Standing on shaky legs, she fled down the hall, finding an abandoned alcove far from the cacophony of noise.

Chest heaving, Nesta tried to sort through her revelation. Tomas had used her. He had never intended to let this drag out. Those pictures had likely been a calculated move on his end, intended to spear her heart. Maybe breaking her had been his plan all along. He seemed to enjoy her emptiness, judging by the way he kept glancing at her during the conference. 

Her phone vibrated. Against her better judgement, she checked it. It was only Jacob, asking where she was. She only texted back to say that she was fine before gathering herself. She couldn’t just crumble in a hallway where anyone could see her.

She had just began to head towards the exit when someone jogged behind her. “Hey!”

“Not now Cassian,” Nesta said, annoyance evident. How did he always manage to find her when she wanted to be left alone? It was like he had some kind of sixth sense, focused directly on her.

“Hold on,” He said, fingers brushing her arm. The touch froze her, muscles coiling. It had only been a brief moment, but the surprise of it was enough to disarm her. “You okay? You didn’t say a word at the conference.”

Her lips peeled back in a snarl. “Why do you care?”

He did not flinch. Most would have. “Because I’m a decent person, believe it or not.” She searched his face for any sign of insincerity. She couldn’t find any; his hazel eyes held only honeyed truths.  

Nesta’s laugh was cruel, hot tears threatening to fall. “Right. Sure you are. Suddenly you feel like caring about how I feel instead of fucking with me. How about you leave me to my misery, Cassian? No need to rub it in.”

She didn’t wait for a response. Didn’t want to see the look on his face, whether it was anger or smug satisfaction, or something else entirely. 

Nesta managed to make it out and call a taxi to take her back to the hotel. She was silent the entire ride, not bothering with half-hearted small talk. Collapsing on the bed, she didn’t bother changing. She queued up a cheesy comedy film, one that was full of stupid jokes that were funny when it first came out, but not relevant in the present day.

Halfway through, Nesta grew bored and checked her phone. There was a text from an unknown number.

You okay? You never answered me.

"What the fuck," Nesta mumbled, rereading the message. How had Cassian gotten her number? 

Fine, was all she said back. She didn't know why she even bothered responding. Maybe it was because he had seemed genuinely concerned in that hallway and she felt slightly guilty for blowing him off.

I can buy you a drink if you come down to the hotel bar

Fuck off and leave me alone

Gladly.

Nesta let out a frustrated sigh and texted Jacob.

You gave him my number didn't you?

Jacob's response was only an emoji of a nervous smile.

"Little fucker," She mumbled, tossing her phone aside. She'd throttle him tomorrow on the plane. Right now, she was too hungry to send a snarky reply. If she slipped out the back, she could grab a burger without having to chance running into Cassian at the bar.

Grabbing a sweater - the desert got cold at night, she'd learned that the hard way - she made the trek down the fourteen flights of stairs, trying to piece together her life.

By the time she made it to a fast food shop, she was exhausted. She inhaled her meal in minutes, lounging in the dingy booth. She looked at her phone for what felt like the thousandth time, disappointed when there wasn’t so much as a text from Tomas.

She got up from the booth, tossed her trash in the bin and walked out. She took the long way back to the hotel, purposely winding through the streets. Why did she care if Tomas hadn’t texted her? It was her own fault that she had let herself fall for him in the first place. She knew it had been a horrible idea, and yet she had allowed herself to let him gain a place of importance in her life. They’d agreed on no feelings, and yet here she was. 

By the time she made it back to her hotel room, Nesta was exhausted. It took her three tries to fit the electronic key in the reader, and she used her full weight to shoulder the obscenely heavy door open. 

She didn’t bother with the lights, simply slipping out of her shoes and throwing her jacket in the general direction of the closet. She wanted to sleep; maybe that would reset her mind so she could feel less broken tomorrow.

“Hey-”

“Fuck!” Nesta jumped at the voice, fumbling for the lightswitch, heart in her throat. She squinted when warm light filled the room, shoulders relaxing when she saw who it was. Tomas, standing awkwardly by the desk, roses and a small box in his hands. Despite herself, hope bloomed.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, unmoving.

Setting down the bouquet, Tomas stepped forward to hand her the box. “I came to apologize. I know I missed your birthday and that I’m a shitty person. But if you open that, I think you’ll see…”

He trailed off, nodding to the present she now held. She opened the hinged black velvet, revealing a small diamond necklace. It was delicate, nothing flashy, but enough to make a statement. Nesta glanced up at him, heart warring with her head.

“Do you think showering me with pretty things will make me take you back, after what you said?”

“I think it’ll help, when paired with the fact that I-” He swallowed, trying and failing to hide his grimace. “I love you.”

Any and all sane thoughts left her head upon hearing those three precious words. Gods, she had dreamed of this moment for months. He’d only waited to tell her because it was clearly hard for him to say. But now that he’d admitted it, she could teach him how to love.

Nesta laughed, throwing her arms around his neck. “I love you too, Tomas. I always have.”

His hands rest on her back, not returning her fervor but she didn’t care. “Now will you take me back?”

The short answer was yes, absolutely. There was nothing she wanted more in the world than to wrap herself up in him and get lost. But her head knew that she needed to lay out a defense.

“Only if you promise we can make this real. If we can be together. Which means no more stunts for the cameras. I can’t keep writing about it like it’s nothing.”

Tomas tensed against her. “Fine. I can do that.”

The weight on Nesta’s chest eased. She let him lay her back on the bed, ripping at his clothes. She only let him pull away long enough for him to whisper, “I can’t stay the night.”

@aphoeni @planet-faerie  @nina-zcnik @darlinminds @linsimin @that-little-red-head @teagoddess99 @enpointe10 @electronicstrawberrystrawberry @awesomelena555 @iptneus @weesablackbeak @wonderland–memories @nessian-trash-heap @magicalwaterfall @perfectlyimpxrfect @cassians-wings @valkyrie-archeron @acourtofcouture @nesemryn @chloepereyra @toastedroastedburnt @swankii-art-teacher @illyrianshadowhunter @bakingandbooks3 @maastrash​ @candid-confetti​ @flamingveritas​ @silentquartz​ @suckmykawaiidesu​ @18moneytoad​ @frosted-crackers​ @maybekindasortaace @lysandra-tiara9 @rowaelinismyotp​ @jlinez

[gummy-dummy]

Hi everyone! This is my first fic on Tumblr, it's just here, for now, I'm excited and kinda nervous too, my native language it's Spanish and I'm trying to be better at English so sorry for the grammars mistakes, I hope you like it, dear reader.

Warnings: Probably bad grammar or mistakes, swearing, mention of knives, mentions of death, kinda cute, kinda soft, confused Dabi, he doesn't know but he a softie.

It was pretty late when Shoto and I started doing our night patrol, it had been 3 months since we graduated from the UA in the hero course, the first 4 of the class were invited to work at Endeavor’s agency, Deku, Dynamight, Shoto and me, Artemis. We were the new pro-heroes with the biggest expectation from the public.

Endeavor wasn't the best at talking but I trust him, also thanks to him I don't have to worry about rent, the agency offered departments near the agency, and the rooms in the agency’s building were comfortable enough, usually, the new group was Split into two for patrol, Deku always had to go with Dynamght, he was the only one who can keep up with Bakugo’s shit, Shoto and me, we already were pretty Good Friends, I even can say we are each other’s confidant, it was a pretty nice night shift together, the absence of noise and people (and Bakugo’s shit), made it go smoothly as always. We are used to talking about everything, in the streets we could say anything, and no one more than us knew what secrets lay between us. There were secrets that Shoto didn’t want his father to know, not that he cares, but just to protect the people that he loved.

The current number one hero thought that the friendship we share will eventually become a love story, but oh boy, little did he know. Shoto had romantic feelings for another hero, I am pretty much the only person that Shoto has physical contact with, hugs and rest on each other shoulders, that's why his dad thinks of us that way. I don’t have family near where we are but the Todoroki family accepted me as one of their own since Endeavor thinks that I and Shoto are together we had to explain to Shoto’s siblings and Mom that he was in love with someone else, they didn’t care at all.

Suddenly the cold wind of the night started to get weird, making the residual trash of the city blow roll in the air, we both started to run there to know what was happening, at the moment we got close enough a black and purple substance started emerging from nowhere, it was a warp, the kind that the League of Villains has Access to, Shigaraki Tomura came out first, being followed by the tall, half-burned popcorn (as Shoto and I like to call him) Dabi, Toga right behind them with other 3 members.

I summoned my light arrows on my bow, I shoot an arrow at the leader and the tall man with black hair just disintegrates it with his blue fire. Like it was nothing.‘What are you doing here?’ Shoto asked the team of villains, Shigaraki just started to laugh ‘We came to get some groceries, what the fuck he is trying to do? Distract us?

I just rolled my eyes and said ‘Yeah well, here, you have something to add to your list I quickly prepared my bow with a new arrow, this time a stronger one, that can’t be destroyed so easily. The amount of power that this one has, with the purple hue and the energy that makes everything feel like an earthquake made the leader of the team look at it with fear in his eyes, Dabi tried to take it with his fire, but nothing happened, the arrow just started to follow all of Shigaraki’s moves, so again the man in front of him tried to catch it with his bare hands, oh what an error was that. The indentation that my arrow left on his right hand wouldn’t heal properly at all, not till I gave the order to my arrow to disappear in the wind.

Dabi just looks at me, while the others started to attack us he just stayed on the side, watching every move I make, (with) Shoto work pretty well with each other, we know our quirks and how to enhance each other's quirks.

There was a lady that appears to be new into the league, I never saw her before, she started to shoot mini grenades from her hand, making me jump to the side to avoid it, one laid between my feet, I didn't notice it until it hit me if that thing blows I die.

I'm going to die here.

The last thing I heard was a scream, Shoto screaming my real name, and then... darkness.

The next thing I know is that I'm in a completely white room, very small, I'm chained to one of the sides of a small bed, being forced to stay seated on the cold floor, if I am in one of the League facilities why they want me here? the murder of a new pro-hero would be an accomplishment by the league, why don't make it while I sleep? it would be something to make all the world feel unsafe, make all the heroes feel in danger. I hear the noise of the door opening, someone calls my name.

Dabi, that jerk, wait he was the one that saved me, at the moment the grenade exploded he just took my arm and yanked me out of the way, and took me in the warp with him.

"Hey Hawkeye!", he looked different than the night of the attack, just with his t-shirt and trousers, not his usual jacket, he looks more laid back than when fighting. He started to look preoccupied while I think how to escape, I'm not responding to him.

"Shit, no, did they do something while I was gone? Hey look at me, can you hear me? oh, these little shits are going to pay, I told them not to touch you" I just roll my eyes and say "What the fuck do you want from me you extra crispy fried ass?" he just stares at me confused for a couple of seconds and says "I'm not- Hey don't talk to me like that I'm your savior, remember? maybe I would let them do things to you, maybe I could take this food and let you starve".

He has a plate in a hand and glass with what appears to be fruit juice on the other. "Why would you feed me? do you know that keeps me alive, right? why didn't you kill me already?" I'm really confused, isn't better to kill someone while they're asleep, or this mother fucker want's to torture me. "That's because I don't want to kill you, dummy hero". Then why did he bring me here? what is the league planning to do to me? so I ask what the league wants from me.

"What makes you think there's a plan behind this?"

"Why else would a fucking villain kidnap a pro-hero if not to use them for something?"

"Well, there's nothing behind this, no one knows why I have you here actually I don't even know why I did it, but you were going to die and I just acted"- oh he should let me die, I'm gonna kick his pretty face when I get the chance.

"What do you want? you know it was going to be easier to kill me while I was unconscious, right?"

"Why do you keep telling me to kill you?"

"This is why"- there's a thing that not a lot of people know about my quirk, the bow, and the arrows are just a form I use it to be more precise, that doesn't mean that's the only thing it does.

With my both hands tied I conjured a little of my energy to make a knife to set me free, I break the cloth that keeps me hand-tied to the bed, throwing a punch at his face, he doesn't move I'm trying to get Dabi down but he is just there, he is not moving or trying to attack me at all, looking at me with sadness in his eyes.

"Hey what the fuck, why don't you attack me? aren't you afraid that I'm going to beat your ass?"- He looks like he is in pain but doesn't fight back.

"I know you could," he says with a sad smirk, what's happening here? by a couple of times, I saw him before he never acted this way.

"Can you please just calm down, let me talk, and I'll let you go if you want"

I intertwined my eyes with him, a beautiful blue, exactly the color of his flames, I don't know why, but I want to hear what he has to say, he looks so sad, but also a little surprised when I sit at the small bed. It looks like he never thought I actually would hear his reasons.

He kicks gently the plate with the food by the side and sits on the little makeshift bed, the bed is so small that we can't avoid our knees touching, he doesn't try to tie my hands again, I could conjure a big weapon, maybe just a simple bat and then scape, I know I can win, so why am I anxious to hear him? he looks at me a couple of seconds, lets out a loud breath, and starts talking.

"Well, when you attacked me, I caught one of your arrows right?" he looks at me and I nodded "Look" he shows me his left hand, inviting me to take his hand on mine.

It's rough, more than calloused, the years of him using his quirk took a lot out of his hands, they were burned, when I touched him I thought it would hurt, but he just opened his eyes a little more in surprise and looked at me again.

"Ok you have your hands burned, what about it? it's your quirk right?" he lets out a little smile that if I wasn't looking at him this close probably would have missed it. "Yeah they're burned, I don't have feeling on them, even if I take something with force or catch anything, can't feel it."

I'm starting to understand what's happening here, but I want him to tell me anyways "Yesterday, when you shot your arrow when I caught it I-"why does he look so nervous? "I felt it, I felt the pain of the arrow, and I felt you, well, your quirk, whatever it is, I just felt your touch"

What I am supposed to say about that?- "I'm sorry?" I say confused "No no it's okay I just want to know how you did it" I don't know why I have the desire to touch him again, I need to help him, he is a villain, a cute one if I say so myself but a villain nonetheless. A villain very dangerous that just wants the world to burn, but look so lost, with the same face you see on a lost child on a Mall

"I don't know, my quirk it's just based on energy, I don't know where it comes from, It just appears when I want to and takes the form I need, I used to lost control over it a lot," I say while moving my fingers letting the violet ribbons go around my hand "Now I can control it using it as weapons, the one that makes me feel more comfortable is the bow and arrow, that way I can control it a little more, but I pretty much can conjure anything" He nodded and looks at my hand.

I show him again, letting a little ball of my energy dance between my fingers and let it go, I made it stay in one of his hands, he started playing with it, like a child with a new toy that was waiting to get for Christmas day, a smile started to appear on his face, not a cruel one, that he usually used, this one was of happiness, he looks handsome, the scars on his face makes him feel unique. I'm not sure what I'm doing till I come back to my senses, I'm catching his face between my hands, he just looks at me surprised.

I run my thumbs right below his eyes, he leans into the touch and closes his blue eyes.

"You know that I can attack you now and escape right?" "I know, but you don't want to do that, I am right?"

He is, he is sure about it and I am too, but why? he probably has me here to lend information about heroes, but he isn't asking anything about it.

"No, I don't want to, why? did you get me drugged or something?" I say smiling at him for the first time "No, Toga tried to get a little bit of your blood but every time she wanted to get a needle into your skin, a purple energy, your energy, surrounded you, Shigaraki wanted to use real knives but I- I didn't let them hurt you, I didn't want them to hurt you".

And to end: this is the first chapter, it's gonna be probably 2 o 3 chapters, I'll probably add some warnings if needed.

Love

Gummy.

[mavda]

Beast Tamers

Ch.1 |  Ch.2 | Ch.3 | Ch.4(1) | Ch.4(2) | Ch.5(1) | Ch.5(2) | Ch.5(3) | Ch.5(4) | Ch.6(1) | Ch.6(2) | Ch.6(3) | Ch.7(1) | Ch.7(2) |

Ch.7: Of burdens and duties (3)

Naruto has her hand in his while his eyes scan document after document, he looks unfazed by the carriage’s movement. So does Shino, whose bugs move around the collar of his jacket and buzz out and into the window.

Sai sits in front of Hinata, his eyes full of interest as he stares at the landscape. He sometimes finds interesting features he shares with her in detail, but his body is tense, and she knows he’s ready to jump to action if needed. Naruto squeezes her hand and as she looks at him, he points out the window.

“Look,” he says, moving back to let her get a better view.

The town is filled with people and carriages and stands and it looks like too many people are in one single place. The sound is starting to be heard and Hinata can already know it will make the ground tremble. She looks at Naruto, worried.

“Don’t worry, it has the best security you could find. The Beast Tamers all gather here, you know? We haven’t had an issue since it started.”

Sai edges towards her, “I will be right beside you, my lady.”

Hinata can even feel Shino’s eyes on her and she sits back with a small smile. “I-I understand.”

Naruto comes to her, grabs both her hands on his, “I’ll be with you.”

And that is enough to make Hinata relax.

⁂⁂⁂

They don’t enter through the same way everyone else does. Their carriage deviates and enters a more calm environment, with more stern looking people around. 

Hinata doesn't know if she prefers this somber looking entrance or the colorful and loud one. At least she can see they take their work seriously, as even when Naruto comes and talks to them -Shino in tow-, the guards check every nook and cranny of their entourage. 

Sakura waves at Hinata from her spot. She is standing right under another carriage window, where Hinata can glance another spiky blonde head that smiles immediately after making contact with her. Lord Minato remains seated and doesn't come out. Much like herself. 

Naruto is chatting with a high-ranking looking man and rests his hands inside the sleeves of his kimono. He looks relaxed, and Hinata tries to remind herself that she shouldn't burden him on this trip. 

He did say this whole ordeal wouldn’t be a problem.

They get off right inside the stadium where the demonstrations take place. The carriages get lost in the distance, with a number of servants inside, who will prepare their chambers where they will rest. Naruto and his group will go up the stairs and mingle with the other Beast Tamers inside, as well as every other high-ranking noble who wants a slice of whatever they had. 

Naruto is unimpressed with everyone attending this show.

His father follows behind, with Hinata right beside him. Sakura, Shino and Sai follow closely, beside them, behind them. They look as alert as ever, and even more professional and menacing than usual. Hinata keeps her head held high, her shoulders rolled back and her eyes glued to Naruto’s back. She can see from the corner of her eyes the people around them. Eyes following their group, and Hinata shudders as their eyes don’t seem to blink. 

“Lord Naruto,” a man bellows. Breaking the formal ambience that surrounds the place. Hinata can see Naruto tensing and she knows he dislikes the man. He is large and comes straight to Naruto, without a care to the people around him. His eyes are beaded and they zoom in on Hinata, and she has to force herself to keep her eyes on Naruto. 

Naruto moves to stand in front of her, a slight change of his feet, and Hinata lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. 

“What a lovely wife,” shares the man and Hinata can’t help the uncomfortable feeling that overcomes her. Naruto says nothing, staring down at the man whose eyes show no sign of shame. “I would love to have a chat with the lord, if you could be so kind as to come with me. Of course, your wife is also invited, I have the most exquisite of foods at my disposal, I assure you.”

“I have yet to greet my fellow Beast Tamers, Lord Graff, I’m sure you understand.”

The man pouts his lips and tries to look behind Naruto, “I’m sure your lovely wife could come wait with me as you make your rounds, my lord.”

Sai is right beside her, but the moment Lord Graff takes a step to get a better look, Naruto grabs him by the arm and squeezes. “Do not be impolite,” he smiles. 

Lord Graff scoffs in surprise, as if the mere thought of him being impolite was ridiculous. “Oh, Lord Naruto, please, I am but trying to be-”

“Naruto,” a monotone voice greets, and Naruto’s head whips around. His stance relaxes, his eyes shine and his face changes immediately into the boyish smile Hinata knows. 

“Gaara!” he greets, motions for him to come closer. His body remains a wall between Lord Graff and his wife and the moment Gaara comes closer his own guards move the lord out of the way. There are two of them, a man with purple face paint that looks at Lord Graff with disgust and a blonde woman that stands next to the other guard with her arms crossed. Gaara doesn’t acknowledge the man who was on his spot before. 

Naruto brings his arm around Hinata, pushes her towards him, “My wife,” he presents and Gaara looks at her. He is tall, though not as tall as Naruto, although Hinata has to look up anyways. His hair is dark red and all around his eyes he has a thick layer of eyeliner that contrasts with his pale skin, he looks menacing, and the way his face shows no emotion at all is even more intimidating. But Naruto is right beside her and Gaara is the only person he wanted to introduce to her, so Hinata bows and pinches herself to get her words out. 

“My n-name is Hinata U-u-uzumaki… It’s a p-pleasure to m-meet y-you.” 

Nobody around her says anything. But she wants to die. She can feel the shame rising inside of her and the tears prickling at her eyes, but Gaara remains impassive and he bows to her.

“The pleasure is all mine. My name is Gaara of the desert, I’m glad to finally meet you.” He gives her a smile. A tiny smile, the barest of movements of the corners of his mouth, but Hinata sees it, and she understands immediately that his friendship with Naruto is real and true. 

Naruto moves his hand up and down her back, and he kisses the top of her head before turning to Gaara, “Do you mind taking her and my dad as I make the rounds?” He whispers. 

“Of course,” says Gaara, with the same tone he has had through all their conversation. 

Hinata worries whether someone has seen Naruto’s impromptu show of affection but she realizes immediately that it’s unlikely. Naruto and Gaara cover her front, Sai covers her side, Shino is at her back and Lord Minato with Sakura stand opposite him, all with their eyes away from them. 

“Shino, you come with me.” Naruto pushes Hinata to Sai, “I’ll be right back.” 

Sakura comes right beside her and Lord Minato covers now her back. Hinata is starting to realize that she’s being overly protected by everyone. 

As Gaara brings them towards one side of the room Hinata realizes that everyone brings a couple of guards with them and they -her- do not look out of place at all. Naruto walks away with Lord Graff -who’s already chatting away- and makes a beeline for a group in the distance. 

“What a fucking prick,” hisses Gaara’s male guard.

“I said we let Lord Naruto have a go at him, one punch is all he’ll need,” the blonde smiles. 

Sakura is the one who comes in with the common sense. "You both know he can't do that," she sighs. 

But the blonde just scoffs, "Who's gonna stop him, though? The Ten-tails?" She mocks. The male guard chimes in with another witty remark and Sakura starts bickering back. 

Hinata glances at them, nervous, but Sai looks used to this and Gaara stops in front of her while pointing towards a chair. "Care for a refreshment or some food?" 

Hinata shakes her head no, doesn't say anything out of shame and ducks her head to make herself look smaller. All habits she wishes she stopped doing. 

"Don't worry about them," Gaara continues, "they love to banter with whoever is nearby. I don't usually fall for their shenanigans though, so they always go extra hard with people who do. Sakura is used to this." Hinata sits and whispers a thank you she wishes is soft enough to get lost. But Gaara answers back, sits beside her and crosses his legs, leaning forwards. And Hinata realizes he's looking at her. "They are my brother and sister," his hand raises towards them, pointing to them in turns, "the one with the face paint is Kankuro, the blonde one is Temari. They've known Naruto for as long as me." He turns to her again, "if there's anything I can help you with, be it answering questions or doing something for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

Hinata tenses, because although Gaara has been nothing but nice and respectful she can't bring herself to say or do anything but nod and stare in front of her. 

And she hates it.

⁂⁂⁂

Naruto doesn’t come back and Lord Minato has stood and walked away to greet the people who came near them a few times already. Lord Gaara has remained unmoving and the only sound Hinata can hear nearby is the still ongoing conversation Kankuro, Temari and Sakura have going on a few meters from them. Sai has remained a few meters apart, closer to her and Lord Gaara, but still able to chime in when the group asks him a question or he feels the need to share something to their talk.

    Hinata realizes that neither Kankuro nor Temari have said anything at Sai’s crude way of speaking, and Hinata soon realizes it’s because they talk that way too. Speaking what they think without wondering first how that will affect the people around them. Kankuro especially has even smirked at Sai’s words.

    They have talked gossip and guarding strategies and lords and news and Hinata has absorbed all the knowledge with guilt. 

    Lord Gaara has remained next to her, sharing his thoughts every once in a while but she has only been able to answer with yes and no and the need to talk is only making it harder for her to do so. She wants to ask and share things and smile and have a good time. Lord Minato is near her, Sai and Sakura are near her. She feels safe, so why?

    Why can’t she just mutter a simple answer longer than one word? Why can’t she smile lightly and ask a question enough to keep their conversation going? Hinata bites her lower lip, feeling the turning of her stomach as she feels shame coursing through her body. 

    Just ask anything. Anything. Anything, anything, anything at all. 

    It takes Hinata an embarrassing amount of courage to raise her head and turn her head slightly to Gaara, who catches her movement but remains still. The fact that he is nice to her makes this even worse.

    She will stutter, she knows. She doesn’t want to, but she will. Feels it in the way her mouth refuses to open, in the way her tongue feels heavy and locked. She will stutter and she will hate it. So it stands to reason that she remains silent. 

    So she does.

    Lord Minato stands again and moves away from the group, talks with a man before coming back, drink in hand. He stands right in front of her and offers the cup, Hinata reaches out and grabs it out of habit. He has shared with her drink after drink of tea in their classes, fewer as they shared more time together. As she started feeling more confident in his presence.

    He gave her an excuse to remain silent. 

    “I think it’s time I go get Naruto away from everyone,” Lord Minato says. His voice calm and soothing. “He should be bored out of his mind by now.”

    Lord Gaara nods, scans the room looking for Naruto, but the amount of people makes it difficult for him to do so. 

    “I’ll be back as soon as I find him, okay?” 

    Hinata stares at her cup, now resting in her lap and she raises her head. He’s looking directly at her, reassuring her. She nods her head, keeps it down, and feels disgraceful. 

    “Ye-ye-yes,” she manages to say. Lord Minato’s hand raises and pats her shoulder, and that tells her enough. He was worried. 

    Hinata remains as composed as she can. Back straight, head held high, and although her eyes are focused on the cup on her hands, she wants to at least appear confident. 

    Naruto will be back in a minute. It’s that thought that gives her a surge of self-assurance she grabs and holds onto. It’s the cup in her hands that warms her cold skin that she grounds herself with and it’s Sai’s feet moving in front of her as he moves to be beside her that Hinata focuses. 

    “L-l-lord Gaara?” She asks. Hating every sound that leaves her mouth, looking straight ahead to the sea of people in fear of seeing pity in his eyes.

    “Yes, my lady?” 

    He’s coming back in a minute. He’s coming back in a minute. 

    “Why… h-haven’t you d-d-done a round like the o-o-other Beast T-t-tamers?”

    She tenses, as worry starts to wash over her body. But whatever, she tried, she talked and asked and at least did something about their conversations. Even if he didn’t answer, even if he ignored her. She did it. And that’s what mattered to her. 

    There is a second of silence that freezes Hinata completely. Until Kankuro’s husky voice lets out a controlled laugh.

    “Because he’s the One-Tail,” he mocks. He and Temari are now closer to them than before, as Sakura left with Lord Minato. 

    “Because his allegiances are already set in stone,” Temari adds with a smirk.

    It’s obvious by their tone and glances at Lord Gaara that they want to get a rise out of him. But Lord Gaara stares them down. “I believe the question was directed at me.” He remains impassive and calm, and Hinata is in awe at his composure. 

    Kankuro snorts, “Oh, come on!” 

    But Gaara ignores him. “As my brother and sister shared,” he starts, giving them a bored look, “I don’t really gain anything by doing rounds. My friendship with Naruto is very well-known throughout the clans.”

    “Everyone and their mothers know that Gaara listens to whatever Naruto says,” Kankuro looks at Temari, shaking his head in confusion, and Temari mimics him.

    “But…” Hinata feels more comfortable now, seeing as Lord Gaara waits and listens and doesn’t bring attention to anything else but her actual question. “Then w-w-why does L-Lord Naruto makes t-the r-rounds?”

    “Because he’s the Nine-Tails,” Kankuro shares. His antics with Temari dying off as Gaara didn’t fall for them. “He’s powerful as fuck, and everyone wants in on that.”

    “Both physically and politically,” Temari adds, “in a way, Gaara is better off than every other Beast Tamer because of Lord Naruto.”

    Hinata scans the room again, trying to find his blonde head. If he was nearer she would find him immediately. He towers over everyone here. 

    “He usually does the rounds to let me and Lord Minato get out of them. People will find him anyway, so he mingles, does what’s expected of him and then comes back.” He turns to her, “though he usually lets people wait for him, I guess he was eager now to get it over with and not expose you too much.”

    Temari smiles at her, and Hinata blushes, “Don’t worry, Lady Hinata, we can pull off the don’t-you-dare-come-near-us mean look.”

    “Kind of experts at it,” laughs Kankuro.

    As if to demonstrate, they frown, glance around and effectively scare off the people around them. And Hinata finds herself relaxing a little.

[magicforjournals]

The Green Dress (A Story About Loki) Chapter 3 : What a mess

Warning : Not really any. In the next chapters, we'll have more Loki and reader interactions.

Three days had gone by since Maria’s birthday party… since you shared a passionate moment with Loki in a dark hallway. It was all you could think about throughout your weekend, at the grocery store, grading history tests, having dinner and drinks with Nat - you just could not stop thinking about him. You also were not certain if you should tell Natasha about the kiss, knowing how she viewed him. Quite honestly, you were unsure about your feelings regarding that night, or him. All you knew was that every night since, you couldn’t help but touch yourself as you thought about his lips on yours, his tongue wrestling in your mouth, his hands gripping your waist tightly. You could still hear his voice, moaning and whispering your name. And to think that this God had shifted your entire world that night with a single look. How could that be? You had been in relationships before, had been attracted to other men before, but none of them had ever completely and utterly fucked up your universe as this man had. You needed to see Loki again, not only because you desperately craved his touch, but you undeniably had to figure out what your next move was going to be, and how he felt about you. Oh, what a mess you had gotten yourself into.

It was snowing when you walked outside that night, after a long day at work. Not that the phenomenon was uncommon for April, but you didn’t especially like the cold and desperately wished for summer to come. You were surprised to notice that it was already dusk out, how long had you been working tonight? You started to make your way towards your car, when you noticed a tall figure, leaning against the front of it. Steve.

“What are you doing here Rogers?” You sigh, as you approach him.

“Natasha said I’d find you here. Why do you work so late on Mondays?” He asks.

You knew that you did work late on Mondays, always wanting to get all your prep done for the week, early on, and that meant staying late. You didn’t know, however, that it had become a habit of yours, and certainly not something you thought your friends would’ve noticed.

“I just have a lot of work to do I guess,” You shrug, putting your bags in the trunk of the car, and walking to the driver’s door. “You didn’t answer my question though, what are you doing here Steve?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” Steve says, standing in front of you.

“All ears,” you groan. You hated how he was tiptoeing around the subject.

“I changed my mind.” He announces bluntly. “I want you.” HE WHAT?!, you think, your body reacting to the shock.

“Y-you what?” You manage to stutter out.

“I want you, I want to be with you.” He repeats, holding your hands. You gasp and yank your hands away. “I know it’s a little late, but I can’t stop thinking about you. When I saw you Thursday night, it only made everything that much clearer for me. I want you to be mine, only mine.” He adds, getting closer to you, pinning you against your car.

You can’t breathe. This is all so sudden. In the past, you would’ve given anything to hear Steve utter those words to you, but now, with everything that had happened between the two of you, was it too late? Where was all this two years ago?

“Steve, why are you doing this now?” You whisper, thinking back to all the innocent flirting he had done with you before Natasha had intervened. “I thought you didn’t want any kind of commitment.”

“I know, I know.” He sighs. “I’m sorry, really. I was wrong. And when I saw you at the party, exchanging looks with Loki, the way he looked at you… it drove me absolutely mad.” He growls. “I can’t bear thinking of another man having their hands on you. I want you,” he says again before lifting your chin up and kissing you aggressively.

OH HELL NO. In what world does he think he has the right to do this? To just take what he wants? No. You put a firm hand on his chest and push him away, rage bubbling up.

“No Steve. You can’t do this.” You almost scream. “You can’t just come waltzing in my life after shooting me down and expect me to let you have me?! No. You just can’t do that. I don’t care what the excuse is, that you’re jealous because Loki and I LOOKED at each other or not. I look at a lot of people every day, you know? It’s unacceptable for you to think of me as something to own.” You’re absolutely furious now. All you want to do is get as far away from him as humanly possible before you punch him in the face, and you know you’ll break your hand if you tried. “I have to go.” You spit out as you open your car door.

“Wait,” Steve says, grabbing your hand again. “I made a mistake last time. I don’t want to let you go again.”

“You already did it once, shouldn’t be too hard.” You hiss at him, and get in your car, slamming the door in his face. Your blood is boiling as you pull out of the school’s parking lot, dialing Nat’s number.

“Hi, what’s up?” She asks, picking up almost immediately.

“He kissed me,” you say through your teeth.

“Holy shit!” Nat screams.

“Not now Nat, I’m absolutely fucking pissed. Where are you, I need a drink.” You say, hoping she’s at the compound.

“Home, I’ll get the wine out of the fridge.” She answers.

“Be there in 5,” you add before hanging up and speeding to her place.

You pull up to the gate, notifying F.R.I.D.A.Y you were here to visit Natasha. As you park your car, you take a moment to try and calm yourself down, quite unsuccessfully. You decide to get out anyways, grabbing your purse and making your way to Nat’s apartment. You don’t even waste time knocking, you just burst through the door, dropping your things in the entrance and making your way to the couch where you collapse, whining into a pillow you cover your face with. You feel Nat tap you on the foot for you to make some room on the couch, and you bring your legs up before setting them back in her lap once she sits down.

“Loki kissed me,” you announce, your voice muffled by the pillow still on your face.

In a fraction of a second, the glasses are on the coffee table, the pillow is gone and you’re being sat up on the couch.

“What?!” Natasha cries out.

“Loki kissed me at Maria’s party.” You repeat. “And well... I kissed him back.”

“Y-you… Loki… Ok, hold on” She says, trying to make sense of what you just told her. “How did this happen? You should’ve stayed away from him like I told you to. Did he force you? No, you said you kissed him back. How was it? Wait, it’s Loki!! ” She adds, all in one breath.

You’re blushing, you know it. You were never embarrassed to tell Nat these kinds of things, but for some reason, you were as embarrassed as a student that got caught cheating on a test.

“It happened by the washrooms, I was getting out, he was going in. We started talking, he asked if he could be honest with me, I said yes. He told me he couldn’t stop looking at me, that he liked how I looked in my dress. He asked if I was afraid of him, I told him I wasn’t, that I felt like he was probably cast aside as a child and was acting up now, and then he kissed me. And I kissed him back.” You’re talking so fast, giving Nat a rundown of those 10 minutes with Loki that you have yet to forget.

“Wow.” Is all that comes out of your best friend’s mouth as she leans back on the couch, absorbing all the information you literally just threw at her.

“Are you mad at me?” You ask, after a very long moment of silence.

“Oh no, I’m not mad. I’m … shocked.” Nat answers. “I didn’t expect that. You made out with a God! Oh my God, you made out with Loki!” She starts giggling.

You start laughing with her, grabbing your glass of wine and sipping on it. As you laugh together and get over the shock of the confession, she asks you for all the details of the kiss. As you’re rambling on about that night, she stops you suddenly.

“Wait, Steve kissed you tonight. What happened with that? How are you feeling?”

“He came to see me at school, I guess you told him I was there. He said, and I quote, ‘I want you. I can’t bear thinking of another man having their hands on you’. And then he kissed me. It was really rough, I pushed him away and yelled at him.” You reply, feeling the anger rise again.

“I can’t believe that! I see why you were pissed. You almost threw yourself at him two years ago and now he what… wants to claim you or something? What the hell is wrong with Rogers?” She exclaims. “I know I said I wanted you and Steve to date, but he can’t turn you down and expect you to wait around until he’s ready to date. That’s just insane!”

“Tell me about it. I don’t want to see him for a while,” you tell her.

“Understandable. I’ll try to keep you two apart the best I can. You hungry?” She asks as she grabs her phone.

You guys end up ordering dinner and talking about Loki and Steve for a while longer. She agrees that you are clearly infatuated with Loki and need to make sense of the situation. Although she might not revel in the fact it was Loki, she trusts you to be safe and smart, Natasha knows you wouldn’t do anything stupid. She also understands that sometimes, following your heart is what is best.

You get home a while later, having been dropped off by Maria who had been working late at the office. Nat promised you that your car and teaching material would be in the parking lot at school before you even got there. As you’re getting ready for your shower, your phone pings on the bathroom counter. Probably Nat just double-checking you got home safe. With half your body already in the shower, you grab your phone to check and your mouth falls open.

An email. How ridiculous was that? Did you really just send her an email? Loki can’t stop beating himself up, debating whether jumping off the Bifröst is a good option. You were the only thing on his mind lately, and he wanted to see you again. He didn’t know how to reach out to you. Thanks to Thor, he had learned which school you worked at and he had gotten your contact information. There were so many ways for him to talk to you, but he was afraid. Afraid of rejection. Never before, in his many years, had he been so taken by a mortal. He spent two days after meeting you - kissing you - trying to get you out of his head. He drank, lashed out, picked a fight in a bar too, everything he could think of to stop thinking about you. But the taste of your lips, your smell, the way you moaned under his touch, as soon as he was alone, all those memories came rushing back to him. He had to see you again.

He knew it was late, and that there was a very high probability you were already in bed, seeing as it was a school day, but he typed up an email regardless. After spending over 3 hours debating whether to email, text or call you, Loki settled on an email, thinking it would be more appropriate to reach out that way. He had been overthinking everything way too much, you drove him absolutely insane.

Good evening, I hope you are doing well, my darling. I, on the other hand, have been suffering. I must admit that I can not stop thinking about you. You are the only thing on my mind during my every waking moment, and at night, when I close my eyes, I can still feel you in my arms. I know this all may seem very forward of me, and I do apologize. Nonetheless, I need to see you again. Would you do me the honor of sharing dinner tomorrow night? Lovingly yours, Loki