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jhilsara · 1 month

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I Can See You

Pt. 1/ Pt. 2/ Pt. 3/ Pt. 4/ Pt. 5/pt. 6/Pt. 7/Pt. 8/Pt. 9/ Pt. 10/

Pt. 11/ Pt.12/Pt.13/Pt. 14/Pt.15/Pt.16/Pt.17/END

It's over! I can't say thank you enough for joining me and my adventures with Hobie and Mariana. I hope you enjoyed them as much as I did. I really grew attached to MJ and Hobie as their story just blossomed before me. While this is the end of the main story, I'll probably have a couple of one shots here and there for them. I just love them so much. Anyway~ once again thank you so much for reading this silly little fic and if you made it this far, I truly appreciate you for reading :)

please leave a kudo on ao3 or a comment <3

~Several Months Later~

MJ is trying to push her way through a rampaging crowd. She’s fighting against the current, but she could care less. The adrenaline pumping through her as she tries to look above the sea of people.

The screaming in her ears is starting to get irritating though. She elbows past a much larger man and finally gets somewhere off to the side where she can get a good visual.

Through the settling dust she sees Spider-Man knocking around the Vulture in the air. She brings her camera up and tries to take a few quick shots before she starts filming. She was getting tired of trying to frame the best front-page photo’s for Spider-Man slander at the Daily Bugle… but none of her other coworkers were willing to get that close to any of the action. She did get hazard pay from it and she was going to milk the cow dry as long as they were paying her.

They didn’t need to know that she’s got a small advantage since her boyfriends the vigilante… at least she feels somewhat safe getting up close to his fights. Even if the so-called vigilante in question does scold her every single time.

She was starting to kind of like it, it was just proof that he cares, not that she’d ever tell Hobie that.

Once she get’s a good enough photo, well, better than what her other coworkers have made in the past. She brings out her phone to film.

This wasn’t for the Daily Bugle, it was for her own personal blogging website. If she was forced by the corporate overloads to make money by slandering her boyfriends name, she could at least run a little side gig that tells the truth.

If she got more website hits on her blog than then Daily Bugle’s she didn’t brag, but god did it boost her ego. Especially since Mr. Jameson was too dull to figure out she was running the blog on the side anyway.

He wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box.

She’s scanning her phone to zoom in on Spider-Man and the cocky bastard has the gal to look over to her and shoot a peace sign at the camera. She rolls her eyes.

“As you can see our vigilante isn’t taking this fight very seriously since he’s flirting with the camera… It’ll make a nice fan cam later though.” She says sarcastically as she follows the fight.

Hobie’s high above, fighting the Vulture in the air. That was the nice thing about the Vulture, nothing was close to her on the ground.

Not like the Lizard a few weeks ago who literally flooded the whole street. Her shoes were permanently damaged. Not to mention her sliding down the road like a poor excuse of a slip and slide. She did get some stellar photos and videos from that. Even if she almost fell down into the sewer.

Hobie had finally conceded to the fact she was going to be near his fights. By her volition or by her new job. He couldn’t escape it. So, he did the next best thing, he started to make her gear that she could at least use to help herself.

The first being a web shooter. It wasn’t set up exactly like his. It was discrete enough to look like a watch. It was mostly to stop her from falling, which is how she saved herself from falling into the sewer.

The month it took for her to figure it out and feel comfortable enough to use it was not fun. Hobie was trying to teach her how to swing her weight, but he was a stick in comparison to her. She’s seen what his webs can do, she knows they can hold her easily. It was trusting herself to not screw up the momentum that was scary. That and the fact she didn’t like swinging to begin with. Even if it was Hobie’s favorite, it certainly wasn’t hers. The actions gave her whiplash and made her nauseous.

She only used the web shooter when she absolutely had to. She was more than happy that today Hobie was flying through the sky. She could safely keep her feet on the ground.

The Vulture shots his metal feathers as an attack toward the swinging vigilante. Hobie swings too close toward her and it has MJ running from the projectiles hitting the ground.

She keeps her camera steady as she readjusts to follow the fight again, “The Vulture should really start learning how to aim if he’s going to resort to his feathers.” She comments as she keeps filming. “I mean, how often have they really hit Spider-Man?”

There’s no one really around her but a few reporters on the sides of the streets. Most of them keeping their distance far away. MJ was the only one willing to get this close to the action. Which is why her online blog was skyrocketing in popularity. She didn’t even think about making one until one day Mr. Jameson pissed her off. He was ranting and raving about how the Daily Bugle was the only news source worth listening too because of how good their images were of Spider-Man.

Or as he said, “That no good Spiderpunk running around and destroying our city!”

If she had to bullshit some article calling Hobie Spiderpunk one more time she was going to vomit in Mr. Jameson’s waste basket. It was such a playground taunt. He couldn’t even be more creative!

It also made her eye twitch that her boss was using her perfectly good photos to slander her boyfriend. Hobie didn’t care. In fact, he never looked at a single news source, the most he did was hijack the police scanners to aid him. Didn’t stop the fire burning under her though. If MJ was anything, she was loyal to a fault. So, what if it meant she got a little petty? It was all in good faith. She made her blog that night, as a counter protest to her boss. She never expected her ramblings and bad videos to explode overnight.

It was an added bonus that her boss had also caught wind of her blog and couldn’t do anything about it. He had demanded MJ pay closer attention when she was out, to try and figure out who ran the blog. The man clearly couldn’t put it together that it was her. Who else would get that close to Spider-Man’s fights? She didn’t even disguise her voice, but she made sure to never show her face.

Hobie just found it amusing if anything else. She had a decent following online and made sure her content was always free. If she was going to report on what was happening she wasn’t going to profit off of it. Unlike the Daily Bugle who hid their slanderous newspaper articles behind a paywall. She loved what she did, uncovering stories and being near the action. It gave her a rush like no other. Even if Hobie would wish she wouldn’t get so close.

This was one of those moments she wished she wasn’t so close.

“Shit, shit, shit!” She’s running from falling building debris. The vulture had taken a large chunk off the old brick building to her left. She could hear the car alarms going off as the falling pieces were crushing the cars underneath.

She feels arms wrap around her tightly and she stops struggling almost immediately. Looking up to see Hobie’s mask staring down at her. A heavy sigh leaving his mouth.

“You were doing so good this time. Outta way and everythin’.” He teases half-heartedly.

She rolls her eyes before shrugging, “To be fair, I didn’t expect the bird to throw such a hissy fit he’d take out the corner of the building.” She replies.

Hobie sighs and nods. He sets her down a good distance away. “He’s really bloody upset over somethin’… I couldn’t tell ya for the life of me. I tuned him out ages ago.” He turns to dash off and take care of the giant bird man.

“I’m wastin’ my breath, but don’t follow alright.” He tries to tell her. She just hums in acknowledgement and she rushing off right behind him.

She was almost like a shadow with her new job at the Daily Bugle. Always behind him. It still frightened him. Had the rage simmering underneath his the second she was too close to danger. That dread would probably never fully go away. It was just a matter of trusting each other. He’d come running to her if she needed him, and vice versa. The least her could do was arm her so she could defend herself. Not that she needed too much defending. She did explode the Goblin with their own bombs. He knew the dangers that came with being Spider-Man and she had taken them with so much grace and shouldered them with him. It was more than he could ask of anyone.

Yet there she was, next to him, like she was always meant to be.

She grabs a few more photos and is able to catch the end of the fight. Hobie having the Vulture wrapped up in his webs.

“Once again, our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man can be found protecting us! He’s a little cross with me right now so I won’t bug him. I am expecting some fan cams from this footage so don’t let me down!” She signs off her video and shuffles her belongings into her bag.

Hobie turns to see her and she waves in small acknowledgement before jogging off back to her office. He shakes his head but goes to handle the Vulture, knowing he’ll see her later anyway.

Mariana’s curled up on the couch, nursing a half cold tea, when the door gently opens and she hears him kicking off his combat boots.

“Long day?” she calls out to him sitting up to look over at him.

He gives a dry chuckle before walking over to kiss her forehead. “It was more than just the birdman today,” he sighs.

She frowns looking up at him, “Go take a hot shower, I’ll make you something.” She whispers holding his face.

He nods his head and presses another soft kiss to her cheek before walking to the bathroom.

She shakes her head and gets up with a full body stretch. She goes to grab the leftovers from the dinner she cooked earlier. She goes to warm it back up for him, it wasn’t too cold but definitely not as hot as when she originally cooked earlier. It won’t take very long so she starts on a drink too. She goes over to the kettle and starts making him a cup of tea, while also making herself a second cup. Pouring her lukewarm tea down the sink. She leans against the counter and waits for it to heat up.

She doesn’t hear Hobbie come behind her as he wraps his arms around her waist. Pressing his half naked body against hers. She leans her head back to look up at him.

“Ya know, this would be lovelier if you weren’t still slightly wet.” She teases him.

He groans and shoves his face into the crook of her neck. “Don’t care.” He murmurs placing a soft kiss to her shoulder.

She smiles softly and moves her hand to pat his cheek. She doesn’t stop her task of making them tea but it becomes a slightly more difficult task with one hand.

Hobie slowly starts swaying their bodies to an unheard tune in his head. She easily moves with him as she makes their mugs. The silence isn’t stifling, it’s more relaxing than anything. His weight on her is comforting and he places more soft kisses against her skin, moving from her shoulder up her neck, to her cheek, and finally to the corner of her lips.

She turns her head to follow him, chasing his lips with hers. She hums contently against him.

“I have to pour our tea Hobbie.” She whispers against his lips.

He presses another kiss, this one deeper and longer. “Can wait,” He grips her hips to make her turn fully to him. He presses his forehead against hers, closing his eyes.

Her hands snake up his arms and down his bare chest, touch feather light. He makes a deep groan in his throat. It has her chuckling softly.

One of his hands goes to grab both her hands, capturing them easily. His other hand moves from her waist to grip the counter behind her. His mouth moving down to her ear, “Watch it…” he whispers, “Don’t start something you can’t finish.” He presses a kiss under her ear.

She starts to squirm a bit, “Oh piss off!” She giggles her face heating up, “I’m not the one who walked in here half naked.”

He leans back and sighs dramatically. “I haven’t done the laundry in a minute luv.”

She rolls her eyes, “What you need is to just move in already.” She tries to say nonchalantly avoiding looking up at him.

He hums in thought, “Is that you officially asking me or joking?” He teases trying to make her look at him.

Her face grows redder, as she tries to wiggle away from him. He other hand releases hers and he blocks her in against the counter. Leaning dangerously closer to her.

“I… I want you to move in, I mean you come here every night anyway, I just think it would be easier if-” she’s starting to ramble running over her words.

Hobie cuts her off with his mouth, kissing her once more. Pulling back to smile lazily at her furiously blushing face.

“I’m just teasin’. Course I’ll move in.” he tells him softly.

“Okay, perfect, cool…” she says quietly, eyes avoiding his.

“I’m keepin’ the house boat though. Don’t want to leave all my spider stuff here.” He says seriously.

She laughs with her chest, moving to wrap her arms around his neck. “I’m okay with that.”

He moves to grab her thighs, lifting her to wrap her legs around his waist. She makes a small noise before holding onto him tighter.

“Hobie! What about the tea, and your food!” She tries to scold him, but her laughter gives her away.

“It can wait, just want you right now.” He says walking them to her bedroom.

She leans forward, her small laughter being swallowed by his lips. They fall onto her bed together and her hands move to hold his jaw, deepening the kiss.

If someone told Mariana a year ago she’d be in a relationship with her cities vigilante she’d call them crazy. She’d also find it impossible that her path would have crossed with his to begin with.

She wouldn’t believe anything that’s happened to her this past year of knowing Hobie. She’s felt herself change for the better, becoming braver than ever. He’s everything she could ask for. Parts of her have healed in ways she never thought they could. The scares are still there, but they can fade with time. She doesn’t feel like a dog who’s been kicked one too many times anymore. She’s found her home in his heart. She knows he’ll protect it, like she protects his. It’s precious that she’s found this love and all she wants to do is nurture and grow it.

She loves him and she thinks she could forever.

Tag List: @missshelleyduvall

#hobie brown x oc #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown #spiderpunk #spider punk #hobie x reader #hobie x oc #my art

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kimmingyuswifee · 18 days

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Destiny? Pt.2 - Kim Mingyu fic

A/n: Heyy guys! I'm back with the part 2 after so long!! It took me a while to get the motivation and write this lol >_< I hope you enjoy it!!<3 also I love y/n povs sm hehe :D

Word count: 1.08k

Pt. 1

After having dinner, you felt tired and decided to go to bed and sleep, as it was a long, exhausting day from the travel. A few hours later, you woke up in the middle of the night because you were thirsty. You went downstairs in the kitchen to grab a bottle of water from the fridge. While picking up a glass from the wooden cabinet, you heard someone faking a cough. You got startled and turned to look back.

You saw a tall figure in the dark who was in his pyjamas. He cleared his throat and asked, "Got thirsty?" You replied back, "Yeah, it's really humid in here, but what are you doing here?" You asked while drinking a glass of water. Mingyu said, "Well, I'm just bored; I slept the whole time during the bus journey, so I'm not sleepy anymore." He said it in an amusing tone. You just didn't know what to say and decided to go back to the bedroom. Before you could leave the kitchen, you felt a grip on your wrist. Mingyu spoke, "Where are you going? I want to talk to you. You were about to say something, right? but then Hao called us for dinner."

You said, "Well, umm, nothing. I didn't want to say anything. I guess I just forgot what I wanted to say, hehe." You were awkward towards him because he still didn't leave your hand.

"Yeah sure! as if I didn't notice you staring at me at the dinner table the whole time?" Mingyu said it in a mocking tone, teasing you. You were flustered, so you just fumbled with your words, trying to make a stupid reason. "Uhh, well, I wasn't staring at you! but Yunjin was beside you, so I was talking to her, you know?!" You knew you fucked up because you were a bit loud while justifying yourself, and you were embarrassed that your crush caught you staring at him like a hungry wolf.

Mingyu knew what you were doing but just played along. "Okay, baby, as you say!" He said this while laughing a bit, looking at your tomato-red face. You were blushing because he just straight away called you "baby," even though you have no idea if he's in a relationship or not. Maybe not? Most probably yes, because he's way too attractive to not have a girlfriend. But then again, he's flirty with everyone.

You just let go of your hand from his grip and left him there; he stood dumbfounded by your action. Mingyu was confused; he thought that if he said something wrong, you just left him alone without an answer, but he just let go of that thought and went back to the room where you and his best friends were sleeping.

*The next day*

It was a sunny afternoon, and the guys planned to go taste the wines of the Italian family who continued the winery journey from their ancestors. Everyone was split up into groups by Na PD. Seungkwan, Vernon, Jun, and Mingyu were your group.

Y/n pov

We were going around in different wine stalls, the place where, people from all over the world, including the native Italians, tasted and enjoyed their authentic wines. We started tasting the wines and they were really delightful. One of the stalls, had two young women, who pleasantly greeted us and poured the wine in our glasses. One of them, was flirting with Mingyu cuz duh he wore a plain white shirt, paired with white trousers and sneakers. Man dressed up in all white with a final touch of his black sunglasses. Mingyu looked like a whole damn meal that every women would love to devour including me.

"Excuse me, Mr. handsome, would you like to get some more wine for free? I could give you more than just wine, you know," a woman from that stall said while pouring the wine into Mingyu's glass, bending slightly on purpose to flash her cleavage at him. He was taken aback by that seduction of her, but replied in an amusing tone. "N-no, it's fine. Thank you for the wine, mia signora!". (my lady in Italian)

You scoffed, "Huh, what? Mia signora? Oh wow, it looks like he got really into her just because she showed her tits to him," you said while rolling your eyes. Seungkwan heard you mumbling and replied, "Looks like someone is jealous, hun~". "I'm clearly not! It's so ironic that men become themselves when they see a woman trying to seduce them. Wow, like that's so easy, right?" You said it sarcastically while sipping your wine.

"Says the one who is practically drooling over the guy in front of her," Vernon said in the same sarcastic tone as yours. Seungkwan and Jun just laughed at his sassy reply. "It looks like you are getting along with Minghao a lot lately," Jun said to Vernon while laughing and looking at your "so done" expression. "You know what? Imma, just smack your face right now, Moon Junhui-" Just then, a familiar voice interrupted you.

"Hey guys, let's go and have some food! I'm hungry right now," Mingyu said while pouting. "Yeah, come on! We can't just fill our belly with a few glasses of wine!?" Seungkwan replied while chuckling.

2 hours later...

You were having your evening dinner with the guys. You were a bit too hungry from all the walking, so you were eating like a hog. The food got stuck in between your oesophagus, causing you to choke. Joshua quickly handed you a glass of water while patting your back, helping you release the tension in your throat. 2 minutes later, you were a bit normal after that small accident that you caused yourself. "Thank you so much, Shua!" You said this while smiling, relieved. "No problem, y/niee, just my pleasure to help you~". Joshua replied while winking back at you in a flirtatious way, which got you blushing.

Someone at the table definitely got his eyes rolling at that interaction, and that was Mingyu. "Pfft, only if you didn't eat like an animal who starved for days, you wouldn't have choked pabo!" He said this to you while glaring at Joshua. "Yeah, so what? I got hungry as fuck because of you! Who was talking to those ladies for about a good 30 minutes?". You replied while glaring back at Mingyu. Everyone in the dining room laughed at your guy's bickering, knowing that this was never ending.

[Pt.3 soon!]

Taglist: @jeonsbabygirlsworld @clownprincehoeshi @f4iryjjosh @joshuawifey @wonwooz1 @heesgf @angiesmagicspace

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steddieficfind · 17 days

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Hi! I was literally just reading a fic on the little pop-up safari window you get when you click on a link on tumblr and then my phone died and I lost the fic and arghhhhhhh

Basically I saw a post on my dash earlier today that was someone reccing an author and it linked several of their works with a brief description and the ao3 summary, with a link to the fic on ao3. It was complete and it had 3 chapters but I don’t remember anything else from the ao3 info box.

The plot is that Robin wants to go to a gay bar so she can kiss a girl (or maybe Eddie suggests it?) and Eddie’s taking her (he’s out to Steve but that doesn’t happen in the fic) but she’s really nervous so she asks Steve to come along and he agrees. Eddie gives him this whole talk about how there are going to be gay people at the gay bar and Steve can’t freak out if they’re being gay or if guys try to flirt with him, which kind of insults Steve, kind of makes him feel really weird about the potential of getting gay flirted with, and kind of makes him super determined to show that he’s a Good Ally. Eddie helps Steve get ready and when they get to the bar Eddie pretends to be Steve’s boyfriend to stop guys from hitting on him. A drag queen tells Steve that Eddie’s in love with him and Steve freaks out about it and talks to Robin, who points out that maybe he should just be gay for Eddie. At first Steve is like No Way I’m Straight but then he thinks about it a bit more and decides to test it (his possible bisexuality) out by taking Eddie back to the bar to see if he (Steve) likes the fake boyfriend thing, which Robin thinks is an awful idea. In the meantime Eddie watches a basketball game with Steve and Steve goes to a hellfire meeting. They go to the bar and Steve is like Yup I’m For Sure Crushing On Eddie and I don’t remember what happens next because that’s about where I lost the fic.

Some details I remember are as follows: the drag queen is named Connie and she has a bet going with Steve about the basketball game and she promises to buy him a round of drinks in after the game airs in three weeks which is Steve’s excuse for bringing Eddie back, Steve bumps into one person on his way to the bar and the guy starts flirting with him/asking him to dance and that one guy is all it takes for Eddie to swoop in like Nope I’m Your Boyfriend Now, the author refers to the tops that Steve and Eddie wear as “singlets” (which was really confusing to me at first as I could only picture the wrestling leotards until I turned to google), Eddie puts makeup on Steve and it’s black and gold, Eddie give Steve a sword necklace and a spiky bracelet, neither of them return each others clothes because they liiiiiiiiiike each other, at one point eddie says that Robin has experienced being part of a “lesbian sandwich” (a term that Steve doesn’t know) and points out that she has red lipstick on her face

Sorry that’s a lot of details but I was reading the fic literally just a few hours ago before my frantic search to find it again

Thank you guys so much you’re truly doing god’s work o7

Request 904! Send us an ask if you recognize this fic!

#904 #steddie #q #mod andrew

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faramirsonofgondor · 9 months

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I honestly just need a fic where someone calls literally everyone out on their bullshit. And by their bullshit I mean the way they treat Jamie. Because everyone in that show has wrong him at least once. I’d argue that the people who wronged him the least were Pep, Nate, Higgins, Trent, and maybe Keeley but that’s a little debatable still. Like maybe it can be Dr. Fieldstone or maybe it can just be an outsider. But I just need it to happen.

The way people treat him in season 2 & 3 ( and even in some scenes in season 1) is just NOT RIGHT. Like they literally just walk all over him half the time??? Don’t get me wrong, the team and the others CAN be supportive and kind to Jamie, but sometimes they’re just straight up toxic dicks too. Even in season 1, half of the time Jamie was being “a prick” he was really just on the defensive ?? Like Roy also does some pretty fucked up shit but nobody calls him out on it because he’s the team captain. Like he literally fucking head butted Colin and could’ve given him a really bad concussion, but since Colin was being a prick first that just makes it okay???? Roy instigates and escalates multiple fights with Jamie, yet Jamie gets benched for being a dick to Sam ( which might’ve been deserved, but then Roy should’ve been benched as well).

Then in season 2, we see the team get incredibly angry with Jamie once he comes back. Which is just??? It seems like Ted just let them stew in their anger towards Jamie instead of actually talking to them about it. Like the fact that they’re upset about stuff that happened before he left, even though they didn’t seem angry at him right before he left. Like where was this anger towards Jamie before? I honestly think they were just using any excuse to take their negative emotions out in Jamie. Like you’re seriously telling me that Bumbercatch was upset about Jamie flirting with his mom when that happened probably months before? That Richard was so angry he had to talk in French because Jamie cupped a fart and put it in face? That Colin was pissed about an insult Jamie made that sounded like a 3rd grader came up with?? Isaac pretty much hit the nail on the head when he blamed Jamie for getting them relegated, because that’s what they were all actually angry about. Additionally, I think it’s very telling that Sam, who was the one Jamie picked on the most, was silent throughout that whole thing. I honestly think that Sam was the only one who was at least a little curious about whether Jamie had truly changed, and who actually wanted to give him a chance. But he wanted Jamie to work for it, which is fair all things considered.

I think the person who treats him the worst in season 2 ( besides his father) is probably Ted because of much he ignores Jamie’s issues with his father, and he fails to see the influence he’s had on Jamie and his self esteem. Like the way Ted doesn’t even tell Jamie that he didn’t send him away??? He could’ve at least cleared up that Jamie wasn’t send away cause of his attitude or whatever.

Anyways, I’ve already spoken on the teams many fuck ups with Jamie season 3 before so I’ll keep this short. The entire Zava situation was creating a toxic work environment and everyone except Jamie was feeding into that toxicity. Nobody speaks up for Jamie when Roy is a dick to him all the time. Nobody apologizes. They yell at him for stupid shit. They fail to notice how much he’s struggling until he spells it out for them. Roy and his whole macho dick fight with Keeley.

Anyways, they’ve been pretty shit to Jamie and deserve to have someone point that out to them.

#jamie tartt #ted lasso #afc richmond #tw abuse #toxic behavior #toxic work environment

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hanasnx · 2 years

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Love how you portray Ani with your writing 👀 I was wondering about what your thoughts are on Anakin and Jealousy? I was thinking about how Ani might get insecure more easily but the reader wouldn’t really catch on cause they’re genuinely not interested in anyone but him… or I could imagine this in reverse too tbh but maybe him maybe being a lil but cocky about it yk (and I imagine that this could lead something a bit more steamy if you know what I mean)

hi you’re gorgeous i love jealous anakin i love toxic anakin i’m here for both concepts.

these were my thoughts on anakin’s jealousy, and a little bit about how reader handles it. some of it is a little bit “crack fic” material maybe, or maybe not who knows. i just had a lot of fun using some of my notes :) suggestive stuff and established (fwb?) relationship ahead—

anakin has always had a warped relationship with jealousy, i imagine, and it would start of with things like getting jealous over obi wan patting the head of another child padawan instead of anakin’s when he was a young boy. obi wan would never have showed any favoritism, but to anakin he doesn’t quite grasp why obi wan doesn’t give him more attention that he already does.

of course he cant talk to obi wan about that.

as i’ve seen in TCW— which i felt like was pretty in character for hayden!anakin— was how anakin walked in on rush clovis trying to kiss his wife padme, and he beat the shit out of him without thinking another thought.

it’s always 0 to 100 with that kid.

i think that at first, you think it’s hot that anakin gets jealous. how adorably possessive. but when you have to get in the middle of a bar fight it’s exhausting. you’d quarrel with him about it, because all the guy did was touch you, but to anakin that means permission to step in. and when anakin steps in, it’s like when a bull sees red.

it’s not something we see him grow out of, because in episode 3 he’s yelling at the council for not making him a master, which i think stemmed from a place of jealousy. how his vast accomplishments and power should’ve earned him the seat, and that he deserves one as a master jedi. and then ofc the whole “i saw you with obi wan, padme i’m gonna choke you now” it escalated in seconds just from seeing them together and jumping to his own conclusions.

hes a real “you’re the most jealous man i know” “you know other men?” type (like that meme djksdj)

now that ive gotten my info in order, lets get to the good bits

☥ anakin and you would have a secret relationship. whether it was fwb, or more than that, it’s not an excuse you get to use often as a fail safe if a guy can’t take a hint or take the answer no. there are other times, where you lean into the conversation, let him flirt a little cos you think he’s cute (especially if you and anakin have labeled your relationship as an fwb). you wanna get out there more, and this guy seems nice enough.

now anakin, who can’t let you know he’s jealous (because youre either fwbs or just romantic partners, and he cant have his sense of urgency giving anything away to you or to bystanders), decides to make it your problem that youre flirting with someone in his vicinity. so he squeezes in. in between you and this guy. stands in between you, faces you entirely, to ask you a question. as innocent as ever.

“where’d you stash those power converters?”

“ani, i’m a little busy right now,”

“so tell me and i can get out of your hair.”

“ugh, um, i think in the storage in the west wing.”

it’s the fact he asserted his dominance that leaves him satisfied to leave. (didn’t acknowledge the guy you’re with, faced you entirely, and cut in between you two). however, as time goes on, and you get more bold with whoever you decide to flirt with (or let flirt with you), anakin does the same.

☥ if he sees you with someone new, especially if you’re smiling and hes around your age, anakin will talk to you about it after. “i don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“he was cute,”

“he looked like a murderer.”

“stop making up reasons for me not to go out with somebody, i deserve happiness.”

“his eyes were too close together, that’s how you know he’s a murderer.”

it’s almost comical.

☥ you mention a new guy in passing and anakin’s first thought is “Is he trying to sleep with you?” and you tilt your head at him with a sort of :/

“ani, darling, just because you wanted to bed me the second we met doesn’t mean everybody does.”

“i want you to know, (y/n), my senses are fine tuned when it comes to you and anticipating the intentions of those around you.”

“you’re guessing,”

“i’m guessing.”

☥ if he saw you at a bar, and a guy managed to worm his way into your interest, anakin invites himself in. and whispers dirty things in your ear before you realize what he’s doing.

just loud enough for the stranger to hear, “i can’t stop thinking about last night. you’re so experienced, it was unlike anything i’ve had before.” and he straightens, “call me.” and grins at the guy you’re with before he leaves. the guy is now getting up to leave—

i wrote some notes about this particular subject ill just plop here hehehe:

☥ im absolutely here for anakin struggling against his jealous and possessive behavior bcos you and him arent “together”. having to stay unattached means he had a very hard time letting go of the fact you liked it when some other guy had his hands all over you trying to show you how to shoot a blaster

you were born with a blaster in your hand, your dad was a hunter and taught you how to use one to kill and then how to skin the animal, your whole life you’ve had one on your for emergency purposes in your criminal line of work, you know how to take any model apart and put it back together, modify it to fit your needs, use them in the war you fought in alongside anakin

and some guy is behind you, correcting your stance and wrapping his arms around yours, showing you where to aim and youre letting him. giggling at whatever he’s whispering in your ear

and anakin is watching from afar.

☥ “what’s she doing?” he asks rex

rex glances at you, “oh, it looks like she’s getting acquainted with our new bombs expert, sir.”

“and why would she be doing that?” anakin gestures to your scheme of pretending not to know how to aim

“he gives us better deals, sir. especially when he’s in a good mood.”

“i can put him in a better one.”

anakin strolls over and tells the bombs expert to show him how to use a blaster. when the guy starts moving his arms for him, anakin is like “no no. like you showed her,” and points to you. and the guy stands behind him (shorter than anakin btw so hes gotta lean over to see past anakin’s shoulder) and you’re behind them literally struggling to not laugh out loud.

you’re red in the face. hand covering your eyes which are tearing up from laughter. smile plastered on your lips bcos you can’t control it. you peek out at anakin letting this guy struggle to show him how he was showing you KSKSND

☥ you elbow him while you’re hiding your face but he can see how red you are. “what? what’d i do?” he asks, completely innocent

“why’d you do that?” you say through your snickers

“i wanted him to see how stupid he was being.”

“you’re lucky it was fucking funny. hopefully he’ll still call me.”

“oh, in that case,” anakin turns to go back and you gotta grab his arm

☥ “you know how to use a blaster.”

“i just liked how excited he was to show me.”

“why?”

“you didn’t see him? he was tall, handsome—“

“i’ve heard enough.”

“why are you pissed off?”

“because i didn’t like it.”

☥ however you don’t mind the hard jealous sex you get from anakin after—

☥ “i like it when you’re jealous,” you say as you take off his clothes

anakin, through gritted teeth, “yeah. and i’m getting real tired of it.”

i always love having somewhere to put some of my notes, hopefully this wasnt too ooc for anakin i get pretty anal about that sometimes cos im obsessed with him. feel free to ask me to explore this idea more!!! ty for the message!!

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volivolition · 1 month

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Any updates on all wip fics? and what is your ao3 username if you have one?

if you don't want to share any info, it's all good

i hope you know how hard i am YIPPEE-ing after getting this ask, I LOVE TALKING ABOUT MY FIC WIPS!!!! YEAHGKJH!!!! <33 my AO3 is also volivolition, but i dont have anything posted there yet :]

TL;DR: I have 4+ WIPs im working on simultaneously: Unstoppable Force Kisses Immovable Object - A Voli/Echem enemies -> enemies with benefits -> friends with benefits -> lovers fic that started as PWP but whoops its not just smut anymore lmao? Meet the Parts that Make You - A "Kim introduced to the Skills" fic! Let's Make It (a) Home - A Skills fic showing the aftermath of the amnesia wiping out Harry's mindspace, with the Skills working together to rebuild it into a home during the Hanged Man case. Mostly domestic fluff. Swept Up in the Feeling - An Empathy-centric fic, originally an excuse to do Skill character studies. Empathy understanding each skill while they do activities together <3 (gained a plot. suddenly.)

ANYWAY!! more info, snippets and musings under the cut!

Unstoppable Forces Kisses Immovable Object Word Count: 18722 Rating: Explicit Okay, so technically this document isn't just one story. It's my catch-all "any Volistry writing goes HERE" containment zone. Like I said, this wasn't supposed to be anything big, I just wanted to write a bunch of drabbles and practice writing smut because I've never done that before. But then the drabbles started connecting to each other and Voli and Echem started falling in love without asking me and so it's like. A whole thing now lmao?

they bring me so much joy. they're so fun to write, because volition will say something so normal and echem will find some way to misconstrue it and volition will bicker and echem will flirt back and volition will sigh and they're so fucking funny to me. they just keep talking, their back-and-forth banter is so natural to write, which is why this fic is so long hkgjh

they learn to balance each other out!! i want them to be soft and witty with each other and i'll. cry about them. if you catch me at the right time i will wax poetic about their relationship but right now they're just being incoherently rotated in my brain.

anyway here's a snippet, i have so much written for this damn fic that i had trouble choosing lmao. it's like. mildly suggestive? but truly nothing blatant, just cutesy shit lmao

Meet the Parts that Make You Word Count: 3886 Rating: Mature This fic is the closest of the four to being abandoned lmao? Or at least I want to finish Swept Up before writing this one, because as it stands I feel like I can't grasp everyone's characters right without doing some character study beforehand. It might also be because I'm currently more obsessed with the Skills instead of the humans, though i still love them.

but yes! Meet the Parts that Make You is a fic after Martinaise, established relationship for KimHarry, where Kim is casually introduced to the skills over dinner, and they document their findings in Kim's notebook over the course of about a week. it's a lot of skills banter and silly moments!! harry can honestly say that every single part of him loves Kim.

here's where they're trying to show off each of their different specialties, featuring Reaction Speed and Hand/Eye Coordination who are my sillies.

Let's Make It (a) Home Word Count: 1896 Rating: Teen+ I think if I want to finish any fic first, I want it to be this one, because it really sets the scene for the rest of the universe of all my other fics. The main gist is that Perception can pull in anything that Harry's looking at into the mindspace, and once they figure this out, most of the skills go "Hey we should bring in more things so we can decorate!"

volition my friend and perpetual spoilsport :3 anyway, different skills affect the object's properties! Perception can pull things in, Interfacing can give it texture, Conceptualization can make it different colors and Reaction Speed can duplicate it. Empathy makes it so the object has the correct feelings attached to it (Dora's letter, for example) and Half Light can immediately destroy the object (Dora's letter, for example).

this fic is basically The Hanged Man case, but from the perspective of the Skills. i think it focuses on some specific skills, but maybe not all of them because I'd die if i had to give each one of them an individual chapter. maybe i'll smoosh some skills together? i love all of them and i want all of them to get some screen time, but it would wreck me lmao

i have a whole Volition scene written out and i think its so fucking gorgeous bro... i love writing. it's like... rebuilding after death, the skills have a kind of blank slate too, you know? they're learning to work together again, regaining memories, making new ones, making a home together. the way different skills need to work together to make an object in the mindspace real. I WANT THEM TO BE A HAPPY FAMILY. AUHG.

Swept Up in the Feeling Word Count: 5103 Rating: This is Mature. Except the Echem chapter. Which is Explicit.

EMPATHY MY FAVORITE SKILL. OUGH. EMPATHY. MY FRIEND. this fic is about Empathy getting roped into a bunch of shenanigans with the other skills, and goes along with it all while better understanding each of them.

so remember when i said I'd die if i had to give each one of them an individual chapter? yeah. that's because THIS is the story where i give each one of them an individual chapter.

24 chapters, one per each skill. Including, but not limited to:

Exercising with Physical Instrument!

Art time with Conceptualization!

Performance with Drama!

Listening to Encyclopedia infodump!

Reminiscing with Volition!! (THEY ARE CHILDHOOD BEST FRIENDS!!!)

Staying up late with Endurance

"Overstimulated Skills Support Group" with Perception

Talking about understanding people vs understanding machines with Interfacing

Talking about understanding people vs understanding specific people with Esprit de Corps

Apologizing to Composure about making their life harder with UNNECESSARY FEELINGS ("as if we don't deal with enough of our own, you bring in other people's emotions for me to hide?" "why do we always need to hide them?" "BECAUSE... :| Just because.")

A Talk with Half Light.

Y'know... with Electrochemistry (there's more to it than just that though lmao)

This fic will be the death of me, with all the skills, but I really really want to do skill character studies. I need to research their lines on Fayde and understand each of them so I can write all of them better.

This is also so I can be obsessed with each of them. Currently I have a lot of faves, but I don't care about all of them yet when i WANT TO!! i want to know each of them intrinsically!! I wrote a bit of the Endurance chapter and I didn't use to care for him very much, but then I wrote the lines

"Endurance is not tired; he can't afford to be. Not when everyone else is. He would stand before any of them, from the first intellect to the last motoric, in order to take a blow meant for someone frailer, less capable of surviving it. He will endure it instead."

and now I'm sympathetic to him. like, ough. If I understand them, then I learn to love them, and that's also why I'm writing it from Empathy's perspective! Empathy feels what other the other skills feel and does bonding activities with them with similar feelings, does that make sense? i really want to learn characterization for each of them, this fic truly is just an excuse for me to do character studies so i know all their character motivations.

BUT. it also has backstory plot now that im invested in lmao? based off of character design that i have. I STILL NEED TO POST MY SKILL REFS. RAUGH. but yeah all of my stories get too big for me really, i always bite off more than i can chew for projects like this lmao.

Other Fics: Skill Body Swap Fic! its shoved into Unstoppable Force's document for the time being, since this is mostly an excuse for Volition/Echem swap (Echem's body is ~sensitive~ if you're not used to it and i love putting voli through Situations. meanwhile Volition's body has the morale health pool in it that echem has to take care of), and ive only written that specific swap, but i think it'd be cool if i swapped EVERY SKILL.

Logic and Drama would be funny hkjgh Drama would 1) immediately slot into the new role and be extremely good at pretending nothing is wrong. What do you mean, he hasn't switched bodies with anyone? That's highly improbable. 2) love saying lies as if they were appropriate conclusions, and actual Logic would be like "That's literally wrong. Stop that."

Empathy and Composure would be interesting! Empathy's body is constantly picking up on everyone's emotions, and also is always on the brink of tears. Composure's body is not made to experience the same emotions, much less the emotions of others. Empathy's cut off from feeling and Composure is struggling not to fucking cry, poor guy.

Shivers and anyone? I just think Shivers should be small and worried about her connection to Revachol. and some other skill is just like "WHY IS THIS SO OVERWHELMING. HELLO??"

i dont know, theres a lot of ways i could go with this, i'll figure it out lmao. if anyone has suggestions for interesting/funny swaps and is even reading this far, let me know

The Sunrise Momentum. I SWEAR TO GOD IF I DONT WRITE THIS FIC. I NEED TO FUCKING WRITE THIS. Volition's vow with Harry that i cry about once per day. VOLITION IS TO HARRY AS HARRY IS TO REVACHOL. AUGH. "I will do everything in my power to keep you alive. I will keep you on this earth." my knight in lavender armor i am OBSESSED WITH YOUUUU!! *vibrates at high velocity*

okay that's about it, thanks for reading my RAMBLES!!

#inland drabbles #volta transmissions #BIG OL POST!! i love talking about my wips. i have so much to say #sorry this took a bit to compile. every time i checked word counts i added a little more to each story and had to keep updating word counts #ad infinitum forever hkgjh I JUST ADDED 500 MORE WORDS TO SWEPT UP JUST NOW WHILE UPDATING IT!! FUCK!!!#sorry this drama chapter is really fun hkjgh ANYWAY!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ASKING!!! ASK AGAIN ANYTIME <33 #it will be shorter next time i promise. probably. lmao??#task: unstoppable force #task: meet the parts #task: let's make it a home #task: swept up

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sitp-recs · 4 months

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HP Rec Fest, Day 27

Omg day 27 already?! I can’t believe this fest is almost done :( today’s prompt for @hprecfest is fun but also challenging for those (like me) who read way more canon-based fic than AUs. But I do love a good challenge so I decided to go full non-magical AU instead of picking a “Draco in the Muggle World” AU. And since I’ve been sick in bed with a lot of time in my hands I thought why not rec 2 Drarry fics + 1 rare pair. As you’ll see I love rivals to lovers a normal amount so that naturally makes Sports AU my absolute obsession jam. I’m so happy to include in one single post an old fave, a recent fave and my favourite rare pair. Run don’t walk!

Day 27) a Muggle-AU fic:

Drarry

🏒 Mad Blood Stirring by provocative_envy (E, 3k)

It's not like they've been angrily hooking up on the sly since meeting at a Juniors skills camp in fucking Manitoba four years ago, except that's exactly what they've been doing. ALTERNATIVELY: Draco and Harry really need to talk about their feelings.

fucking finally, the perfect excuse to cheekily include my fave sports/non-magical AUs and scream non-stop about them! I couldn’t care less for hockey, and yet I’ve reread this classic more times than I care to admit. this is superb rivals with benefits to lovers (my fave!), super hot and hilariously chaotic as all Drarry things should be. PE nails both characters in a non-magical setting perfectly - their voices are a delight and the constant flirting bickering made me lol every 3 seconds. they are so deliciously crazy for each other I could stay in this verse forever just watching them pine, play & fuck throughout the season - make sure to go check the FlintWood piece here, it’s equally brilliant! def a classic sports AU to reread over and over.

🚣‍♀️ Our Objective Remains Unchanged by @citrusses (E, 46k)

Harry Potter, returning member of the Oxford University Boat Club, has two goals for the spring of 2005: beat Cambridge, and beat Draco Malfoy. Perhaps not in that order.

an instant 2023 fave, this is the rowing AU I did not know I needed but boy, am I happy it found me 🙏🏼 citrus got me shooketh from beginning to end, I am awed by the world building and the whole Oxford way of life especially the classism aspect and the training ethos. everything is so vivid and refreshing and unlike anything I’ve seen in the fandom so far. the fic incorporates many canon elements and balances dialogue, world building and character development flawlessly. being in Harry’s head is an emotional ride, he’s a wonderful and relatable character and I just wanted him to be happy so badly. Draco’s arc is equally moving (I was screaming at his reappearance) and this is peak rivals to lovers!!! I was very invested in the competition and the romance is so so lovely and real. I felt incredibly sad and lost when I finished this fic because I wanted to stay in this universe forever. fun, inventive, sophisticated and surprising in the best ways, go read it now

Rare pair

Shut Up and Kiss Me by @unmistakablyoatmeal (Harry/Teddy, E, 7.7k)

There's a reason Harry walks an extra ten blocks to go to the shops and it has nothing to do with onions.

smitten Harry my beloved!!!! I’m so weak for this ship and this shop AU is the cutest thing you’ll read today, I love swooning Harry daydreaming about Teddy and being an absolute dork around him. it’s so funny (and mildly embarrassing) to watch him pine over this cool, charming, and confident young Teddy who’s not afraid to get what he wants 🌝 the clubbing scene deserves special kudos for its depiction of ageism in queer spaces and how older folks sometimes struggle to fit in. for all their differences I love how Harry and Teddy instantly click, the casual-not-so-casual flirting flows smoothly between them until the UST breaks with deliciously hot smut as per sdk’s usual. a sweet AU to check before the year ends!

#hprecfest2023 #day 27 #muggle AU

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robthegoodfellow · 8 months

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summer retrospective time because i'm feeling down about term starting up and not writing as much as i wanted to but I KNOW this is ridiculous and my goals were unreasonable.

so totally unasked for and unprompted here's what i got:

Chapters 8 and 9 of Upside-Down - 32k (total wip 118k) - E - Harringrove - Crazy long March chapter wherein an ominous phone rings and rings, Billy experiences some firsts (first time playing D&D against his will! first time fucking Steve! first time enduring a birthday party!), and Eddie drags Billy to a thrash metal concert. In Flayedville, the kids rally the troops to save Billy, he and Steve share body heat, and plans don't go as planned.

Two fics written for upcoming @strangerthingscharityzine totaling 4k words in their original state, trimmed down to 1.5k words each for the zine edition. Idk if I'm allowed to summarize but one of them made Remy cry!

That Bartender Sure is Something - 1k - G - Harringrove - Sideways scene rewrite from alt character's POV wherein I try to lay groundwork for why Steve's parents are out of town so often (aside from my need to give boys safe space to fuck and be super freaking domestic).

Chapters 11 and 12 of Only One Bed - 13k (total wip 59k) - E - Harringrovesoningham or whatever Steve/Billy/Eddie/Chrissy is called - Chrissy POV and Eddie POV chapters wherein Chrissy and Billy bond and then Billy/Eddie/Chrissy navigate their dynamic as asymmetrical polyamorous triad. Mostly cute!! Minimal angst!!

¿Por qué no los dos? - 18k - E - Harringroveson/Metalsandwich - What was supposed to be an excuse to make Steve and Eddie thirst over Billy in space buns becomes unexpectedly harrowing exploration of aromantic experience for me and apparently others, some of whom may be entitled to compensation. But there's smut... at the end?

Drafted aaalmost first half (7k) of @bigbangharringrove fic wherein Steve flirts with necromancy and necrophilia and NO STOP where are you going it's all gonna be fine!!! See, Billy died in this contemporary fantasy version of Hawkins where magic and supernatural creatures are just kinda there and so Steve tries to revive him but he imports the wrong file. The wrong Billy. Because there happens to be a lust demon that goes by the same name as Steve's dearly departed husband and let me tell ya he is NOT jazzed to be here. Working with @LucaDoodleDoo who is awesome AND so far has not run away!

Drafted 1.5k of fic for upcoming @harringrovezine. Still on track to be way too long but I WILL trim it down. Not sure what else I'm free to say but I'm excited how it's shaping up?

what follows is me convincing myself i did a good job

And that's... that's it. About 76.5k in all. Which is more than I realized (and also according to haphazard math is more than last summer by maybe 10k?)

I'm not usually fixated on word count much (aside from like laugh-crying when a fic just balloons way bigger than anticipated), and more words does not equal better words by ANY means, but I think this gives me a reality check about getting down on myself. I didn't finish the major things I originally set out to finish but... yeah, such is life when you have more than one WIP in which you are painfully invested 😅

And it's not like I won't EVER finish them which is prob my biggest fear because i had a rep growing up for all my grand plans and projects just losing steam and going nowhere. But I am capable of finishing fics because look ma, there's 3 whole multi-chap fics with the little green check mark (please actually DON'T look, ma).

I'm just babbling now. When work starts I'll be back to writing in random libraries after last bell and my output will slow, and I'm sad about it. But wow you know what I did shit out a bunch of words in like 2.5 months so at least there's that.

(Hesitant to post this because I'm sure it looks like flexing or fishing or something? Or like I'm implying that unless you too are shitting out words you suck? Which uhh I am not! The intent is more for Present Me to flex on Past Me, maybe? And fish some reassurance out of cold hard numbers to more easily put things in perspective.)

Mostly this did work, though! I feel better about the summer. If you need a boost, look over what you've done across a certain span of time using whatever measurement suits you and talk yourself into a pat on the back.

Pat, pat.

#rob rambles #a summary of quarterly whatevers #billy hargrove #my beloved #harringrove #mungrove #harringroveson #harringrovesoningham #that name won't even fit on the side of the ship what are we doing #strangerthingscharityzine #harringrovezine #spin me right round #only one bed

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fanfics4all · 1 year

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Business Only

Request: Yes / No Can I have please Tommy Merlyn/F!reader where Malcolm drags tommy to a party for Merlyn Global and he thinks it's going to be miserable until he sees her there and they dance and steal some booze and end up making out somewhere? @thecaptainsgingersnap

Requests are closed <3 Have a nice day/night

Tommy Merlyn x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1300

Warnings: Nothing I think

Y/N: Your Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee!

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

*Tommy’s POV*

My father planned a party for Merlyn Global and I was forced to go. I really didn’t want to go to a damn business party, but I didn’t have a choice. I got in my suit and went into the limo with my Dad. I was staring out the window, bored out my mind wishing I was anywhere else.

“Tommy, can you at least pretend to be excited.” My Dad asked and I rolled my eyes.

“I don’t even want to go.” I said and he sighed.

“You are just as much apart of Merlyn Global as I am. You need to show up to some events also.” He said.

“Fine…” I sighed.

Once we got to the party I put on a fake smile. I shook hands with the businessmen and made polite conversation with some. Once in a while, they would try and set me up with their daughters, but I would always excuse myself. I decided I needed a much stronger drink if I was going to have to deal with these people. I was heading to the bar and that’s when I saw her. She was in a red dress that hugged her curves perfectly.

She was dancing to some music and people were giving her odd looks, but she didn’t care. She looked so free. I saw her walk off and followed her. She was leaning against the wall in the hall and catching her breath. She looked up and gave me a smile. It felt like my world stopped as I stared at her. She was beautiful.

“Do I have something on my face?” She asked and I quickly shook my head.

“No, sorry.” I said and stepped closer to her.

“I’m Tommy.” I said, offering her my hand. She smiled and shook it.

“Y/N.” She responded. Even her name was beautiful.

“Are you enjoying the party?” I asked and she shrugged.

“I thought it would be more fun, but everyone’s so stuck up.” She said and I laughed.

“I agree.” I said and she smirked at me.

“I might know a way to make this party more fun if you care to join me?” She suggested and my smile grew.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked.

“I’m going to distract the bartender and you are going to steal a bottle.” She said and I shrugged.

“Sure, why not.” I said and she smiled.

“Yay!” She cheered and clapped. She grabbed my hand and pulled me along. She stopped just before the doorway and nodded at me. She walked over to the bar and leaned over so her chest was more exposed to the bartender. I felt a small surge of jealousy run through me, but shook it off. She was flirting with him and he was eating it up. She glanced at me and I took the hint. I quietly walked behind the bar and grabbed a bottle of rum. I held it up so she could see and she slightly nodded. I walked back to the doorway with the bottle behind my back and she excused herself from the bartender. She quickly grabbed my hand ran out the back door. She was laughed the whole time and it was music to my ears. She stopped near a large tree and lent against it. She grabbed the bottle out of my hands and opened it. She took a large swig from the bottle and smiled.

“Perfect.” She said and handed it to me. I also took a large swig and smiled at her.

“I get the feeling you’re not really supposed to be here.” I said and she shook her head.

“Maybe, maybe not. You’ll never know.” She said, taking the bottle back.

“Do you do this often?” I asked and she looked at me confused.

“What?” She asked.

“Steal bottles and drink them at rich people’s parties?” I asked, taking the bottle back from her.

“Not really, only when I find a will accompless.” She smirked.

“Do you get those often?” I asked and she shook her head.

“No, you’re the first, actually.” She answered and I smiled.

The two of us talked and passed the bottle back and forth for a bit. We ended up drinking half the bottle and were definitely feeling the effects. I had closed the bottle and placed it to the side. She was touching my chest and ended up wrapping her arms around my neck. I gently placed my hands on her waist and she giggled.

“You’re so cute.” She said and I chuckled.

“You’re cuter.” I said and she pulled me down so my forehead was resting on hers. The two of us stared at each other for a bit and I glanced at her lips.

“Kiss me.” She whispered. I obayed her request and pushed my lips onto hers. She pulled me in closer and tangled her fingers in my hair. She pulled slightly and I moaned into her mouth. I held her waist tighter and she moaned. Her tongue slid along my bottom lip, begging for an entrance. I happily opened my mouth and our tongues explored each others mouths. I pulled her closer to me and we were pressed against each other. I let my hands go lower and gripped her ass. She moaned more and I smirked slightly. We were enjoying each other’s company and feeling each other up. Suddenly cold water hit the two of us and we pulled apart. Y/N screamed slightly and we looked around. The sprinklers had come on and they were currently getting us more and more wet. I grabbed Y/N’s hand and pulled her back to the house. She was giggling the whole time and I laughed with her. We got inside and weren’t too soaked, but it was noticeable.

“Tommy? Why are you wet and what are you doing with Y/N?” Dad asked, looking at the two of us confused.

“You know her?” I asked and my Dad looked at me confused.

“Of course I do. She’s Y/N Y/L/N.” He said and my eyes widened slightly.

“Your Father is Harry Y/L/N?” I asked and she shrugged with a slight blush.

“Yep.” She giggled and my Dad sighed.

“Do not tell me you got her drunk.” He said and I sighed.

“We may have drank a bit…” I answered.

“Malcolm, have you-”

“Y/N, there you are!” Her Father walked into the hall that we were standing in.

“Hi, Daddy!” She said, clearly too happy.

“Are you drunk?” He asked and she just giggled.

“Harry, I’m so sorry. It seems my son got your daughter drunk.” Dad said and her Father shook his head.

“I’m sure it was Y/N’s idea. She’s quite the trouble maker.” He said and she rolled her eyes.

“I’m not a trouble maker, Daddy.” She said and slightly fell. I wrapped my arm around her waist and held her up.

“I’ll take her from here, son.” Her Father said. He took a hold of her and she stumbled slightly.

“I have to take her home. It was a nice party, Malcolm.” He said and helped her walk off.

“Bye, Tommy! It was nice meeting you!” She called as she left and was smiling brightly. My Dad looked at me as they left and he sighed.

“Was it her idea?” He asked and I nodded.

“I honestly thought she was a party crasher…” I admitted and he shook his head at me.

“You’re lucky her Father isn’t mad at you.” He said and I smiled slightly.

“I think he might even like you. So I hope you’ll want to see her again.” He said and walked off. I smiled to myself, I’d be happy to see her again.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @schisbro87 @lover-of-books-and-teas @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @genius2050 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @bruisedfists-and-splitlips

#arrow imagine #arrowverse #arrow #tommy merlyn x reader #tommy merlyn imagine #tommy x reader #tommy merlyn #tommy x y/n #tommy x fem!reader #tommy merlyn x fem!reader #fanfic #request

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aibloomie · 3 months

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hi there!

i saw your reblog to my kazuha fic and just wanted to stop by and leave a message! sorry in advance if this shit is lengthier than expected…

first of all omg…YOUR COMMENTS WERE SO SWEET💔😔 when i saw your notifications it made me SO happy and your reblog even more! saying my writing feels gentle and flowery LIKE— STOP AHHH that’s now one of my favorite compliments i’ve ever been told of my writing FOR REAL.

also very glad to meet a fellow royal au lover. when i tell you im obsessed with them man…i could make my whole blog dedicated to just royal aus (which i honestly have considered before lowkey LMAO). IDK SOMETHING ABOUT PRINCE KAZUHA JUST MAKES MY HEART GO 💞⁉️💓‼️📈 IT HAS ME ON THE TIGHTEST CHOKEHOLD EVER LORD. even when i wrote out that whole tucking a flower behind your ear kinda thing i was all giddy and kicking my feet (figuratively)!!

because yes prince kazu is a gentle and kind hearted soul but mans will not hesitant to flirt with you. will for sure make an excuse to be around you like purposefully visiting the gardens the same time as you and call it a coincidence. then after some convincing you’ll teach him about floral and herbal stuff and he’ll just look at you babbling on and on about herbal shit with a loving/awe gaze “were you even listening to anything i said?” “no, i was listening, until you started talking about the biological aspects…” “that was at the very beginning??” “yes..that’s when you lost me. although when i was watching you talk…i noticed the way your eyes glinted with excitement and how your entire face lights up like the sun which i thought was very adorable.” FOLDS

yes as you can see i brain rot very hard on prince kazuha hcs because he may as well be one (i love him sm). that one is definitely my favorite of my writing pieces i’ve posted by far :’) okay im gonna stop now before i write a whole damn essay my bad🏃🏽‍♀️

THANK YOU SO MUCH ONCE AGAIN & I HOPE YOU HAVE/HAD AN AMAZING DAY<33

HII <333 no need to apologize i got all excited when i saw how long this ask was AHH i reread it like ten times

and yes your writing is so incredibly gentle…idk something about it gave me the same feeling as putting on a warm blanket or laying outside and basking in the sunlight. it put me at peace like i forgot all about my homework and stuff and just went straight to daydreaming LMAO

YESYESYES royal au’s are amazing and kazuha literally just SCREAMS prince with his natural elegance and kindness. oh to live in a kingdom and be granted the opportunity to see prince kazuha taking a stroll </3 or dancing with him under the moonlight as a romantic rendezvous instead of at a public ball. and even despite the pretty scenery and star lit sky, the two of you only stare at one anotherSJDHDN

and a blog centered around a royal au would be so cool WHAT

EEE THANK YOU FOR THE KAZUHA SNIPPET??? the dialogue…i’d die on the spot if he said that with the sweet voice of his and a dreamy look in his eyes. all my information on herbs would vanish PLEASE MY MIND WOULD TURN TO MUSH

i agree, kazuha is the definition of a prince even mother nature adores him 😟

NO PROBLEM, THANK YOU FOR WRITING THE FIC <33 YOU TOO HAVE AN AMAZING DAY/NIGHT thank you for sending this in omg

#「 🍄— inbox 」#「 💌 — cherished mutuals 」#i just about died when i saw you followed me back 😵‍💫 HAD ME SMILING AND EVERYTHING #excuse any typos 🥲#kazuha getting all lovestruck when you go on about your passions…oh my god #prince kazuha brain rot is contagious apparently i feel like it has now been passed to me </3 #your blog in general is just really soothing !! your aesthetic and everything <33 SO PRETTY

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shewritesfics · 1 month

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Word Vomit

Pairing: Charlie/Reader

Warnings: Alcohol, drug use, slight panic.

Summary: You and Charlie have been friends for a long time, but his worrying finally gets you to confess.

Word Count: 2.9k

Notes: Heyo! I hope you all enjoy this! Can someone pls tell me how to collapse a fic so it doesn't take up the whole hashtag, idk why but that shit bothers me. Lmk what you think! <3 Edit: Guys I fucking figured it out.

Okay, you would be the first to admit, that maybe you had a problem. But, hey, admitting is the first step!

The whole gang had past addictions as well, it’s not like they were any saint compared to you. From glue huffing, crack, and coke, to alcohol. So compared to all of those combined, you were good! They were oblivious anyway, always too fixated on what was happening inside the group to be mindful of outsiders. So, until anyone else saw it was a problem, you were in the clear.

You walk into the bar, and everyone is already screaming at each other to notice, besides Charlie. You quickly tuck into the bathroom, locking it behind you and pulling out your baggie. It’s full, you just picked it up before heading to the bar. You sigh, but a smile graces your face as you pour some lines out. Sniffing them up quickly, you check your face in the mirror before heading out. Charlie excuses himself unbeknownst to the gang and hops right on over to you, cheekily sliding past you to get behind the bar, touching your back lightly.

“Hey hey hey!” He cheers happily. “What can I get for you?” He smiles giddily at you.

You wave him off lightly, “Since you’re not technically a bartender, I’ll make it easy and just take a beer.” Flashing a smile at him and starting to grab some cash from your wallet.

He pops off the cap with ease and slides it over, rejecting your hand with the money and smiling at you.

“It’s on me.” He bows slightly and grabs himself a beer.

“It’s always on you.” You laugh back and take a sip, enjoying the cool it brings to your throat.

“That’s the Charlie special.” He winks at you. A blush comes over your face, he doesn’t know he’s flirting and that’s not his fault. Too infatuated with the waitress to give any person another thought. It was hard, a one-sided crush on someone like him.

He bashed rats! He went into the sewer naked for fun! He slept in a bed with another man and played nighttime games with him! Digging through the trash to find any secret treasure. He drinks paint. He eats stickers. He doesn’t brush his teeth for god’s sake, and you wanted him. Wholeheartedly. You’ve seen the devotion he gives to the waitress, who doesn’t even give him a second thought. Charlie deserves more. He would worship her if given the chance. You’re not jealous per se, but you can have a crush. Charlie is just so intoxicating to be around. So charismatic and happy. He’s ready for anything at the drop of a hat, he may dispute and argue, but he’ll always give in. He’s the wild card, unabashedly unashamed.

He waves his hand in front of you, taking you out of your daze and a blush of embarrassment quickly rages your face.

“Whatcha dreaming about?” He asks a brow quirked and a shy smile on his face.

“Oh! Uh- just uhm hungry.” It wasn’t technically a lie.

“You want me to take you somewhere?” He perks up instantly. Of course, he would, he loves going out to eat. And for free!

You sigh lightly, chugging your beer quickly. “Sure, let’s do it.” Alone time with Charlie never hurt anyone.

“Great! Let’s go to this coffee shop I know…” He trails off, thinking of the waitress. You inwardly groan and roll your eyes.

“Can we go to someplace else?” You try to ask without ground teeth. Charlie deflates, if he was a dog his ears would’ve turned down. You frown, but overall it would be better for you. He mumbles out a quick yes, before grabbing his coat. You excuse yourself to the bathroom quickly and he quirks a brow at you. You give him a pressed smile. Just a few more lines, and then maybe you’ll be done for the night.

You walk out of the bathroom, giddy as can be. Thoughts are running through your mind, and you want to talk away. Charlie notices a pep in your step, he assumes you're just happy for a meal.

The walk there is quick. It’s sunny out and there’s a slight chill in the air. The tip of your nose is tinged pink, probably from the drugs but maybe it’s the air. Charlie is rambling on about something and all you can do is watch him. How he talks with his hands, his facial expressions changing with the story. You’ve noticed that sometimes when he gets a big smile, his ears raise slightly as well. You’re just smiling dumbly at him. Any outsider could see it. You’re sick with love.

At the restaurant, you both order drinks, something frilly and fruity for you, and Charlie just orders a beer, though he’s jealous of your cocktail. You drink it quickly, trying to mask your face when the runs start happening in your throat. Your nose is runny and you’ve been clearing your throat a lot.

“Hey man, are you- like sick or something?” Charlie squints at you, leaning back in the booth. You tense up lightly, finishing the drink and pushing it away from you.

“Uh- no- not that I know off. It could be allergies, you know pollen and stuff.” You wave your hand as if to show pollen flowing through the air. His eyebrows raise and he nods in understanding.

“Yeah, dude, that shit fucks with people.” He shakes his head and finishes his beer. You don’t know how much he’s had to drink today, but you’re hoping to be shitfaced by the end of the night. Sure, it would be easier to drink at Paddy’s, but fruity cocktails are so easy to get down. If you can afford that much coke, you can afford a few cocktails at happy hour.

Charlie is trying to read the menu. Complaining about how there are no pictures that he can look at. You chuckle at him.

“Charlie, I’ll order for you. There’s a meat and cheese platter.” A huge smile overcomes his face, his eyes crinkle and you laugh.

“Dude, you’re just- the best, man.” He shakes his head and smiles brightly. You blush and avoid his eye. “How come you always do that?” He asks quickly.

“Do what?” You ask, confused.

“You just never look at me after I say stuff like that.” He shrugs and starts fiddling with his fingers. His brows pinched together as he focused on the skin around his nails. Your posture gets a bit straighter, and you look at anything but him. Charlie isn’t the smartest person on the planet, but fuck, he is so oblivious when a girl is into him. It’s charming really, he’s just authentically himself all the time. He never shows off unless it’s the waitress. Of course, he’s cocky when it comes to the group, but he never falters.

“It’s nothing.” You turn down his questioning. He backs off when the waiter comes over and you order, getting another drink for yourself while he’s there.

The food is there in a flash and Charlie goes directly for the cheese. You smile and laugh, digging into your meal as well. Coke has an interesting effect on your appetite, but at least you can take it for leftovers if he doesn’t eat it as well. You nurse the drink while Charlie rambles about the cheese, among other things. You listen and nod when he’s looking for a reaction, giving small feedback when there’s a lull while he’s swallowing. It’s almost intimate. The two of you are alone at a dimly lit table, it feels like a date. You weren’t the only one who thought that.

The waiter comes back around with a small dessert and sets it on the table. He clears his throat, “Couples get a free dessert on us!” He smiles grandly and Charlie chokes lightly.

“Oh, man, yeah we’re not dating. Can we still have the dessert though?” He reaches for the plate and the waiter looks at you, quirking a brow. You’re face is flushed with embarrassment and you quickly shake your head no.

“Uh- no. Dessert is free only for couples.” The waiter also reaches for the plate before Charlie holds it away from him.

“Yeah, I mean, I get it man but you already put the plate down and said it was for us. So- I think it’s only right…” He trails off with his defense, it falls on deaf ears. You excuse yourself to the bathroom real quick, shuffling out of the seat and into the single restroom.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. Your hands are shaking lightly as you pour out a few more lines. Your eyes are wild and your face is flushed. His words ring throughout your head. Charlie didn’t mean it to be malicious, you knew that. He would never do anything to purposely hurt you, but fuck, did that sting. You run your hands through your hair, taking in deep breaths and shoving down the hurt that was bubbling in your throat. Exhaling and grabbing the rolled-up dollar bill, you snort it quickly, tilting your head back and breathing heavily. Plugging each nose and breathing in as hard as you can to avoid any leakage. You look at yourself one more time and quickly walk back to the booth.

Charlie is looking at you weirdly. To be fair, you did just run away. It’s been so long since you guys have been friends. It’s been so long that you’ve been holding all of your feelings in. It’s not fair. It’s not fair that this man gets to be delusion about his crush on the waitress when you have been waiting for him. You could love him. Listen to all of his stories, hold his hand when he starts getting nervous, and pick at his skin. Play and style his hair after a risky endeavor with the gang. You would clean his scratches and bandage them. Scratch his back before bed, and hold him closely and softly just before falling asleep. You would listen to his medleys and would hold him from behind, so when he sings softly it would vibrate throughout your body. You would be his warmth.

“Y/N, you good man?” He looks at you with his soft eyes.

“I’m sorry, Charlie, I just keep zoning out.” You dismiss him.

“It’s more than that.” He mutters. You look at him, tilting your head. “I don’t know- you do this thing, man. You just like- disappear all the time.” He shrugs. You scoff lightly and roll your eyes. “You can talk to me, ya know?” His hand comes up and rubs his neck. “You always listen to me…”

A frog is caught in your throat. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You look everywhere but him. Anywhere but him. You’ve planned this out so many different times in your mind. The way you would word your confession if what he did that day would preoccupy him more than your talking. It’s been a million in one scenario. His reaction differs each time, but you’ve never dreamt of one where he feels the same. Your yearning has bounds, and false happiness will always be one. Why is he asking all these questions today?

“Charlie…” He leans in after your voice drops. “Can we just go?” The receipt was on the table when you got back, you reach into your wallet and leave cash on the table. He nods and slides out of the booth, eyeing you as your jaw is tensed and you quickly walk out of the store. You’re thankful for the slight bite in the air, focusing on how the cool air fills your lungs. Charlie is in step beside you, playing with the inside of his pockets, biting the inside of his cheek. The silence is nice. You would never get tired of his voice, but you were so close to telling him everything. It’s terrifying.

You end up in the back alleyway of the bar, reaching for the door before Charlie steps in front of you, leaning on the door.

“Dude, what gives?” You ask and reach for the handle, but he’s firmly leaning against it, not budging in the slightest.

“You’re just being weird, man.” He shrugs and looks at you, a pleading look in his eye that drives a stake right through your heart.

You waver for a second. “It’s nothing, Charlie. Genuinely, it’s fine.” You avoid his gaze, he crosses his arms over his chest indicating that he’s not going to be moving for a while. A frustrated sigh comes out and your hand comes up to rub your temples. He shrugs and gives you a pressed look. “Why do you even care?” You ask a small bite in your tone.

“Cause you’re important to me, ya know? I- I like- just having you around…” His head tilts and his look softens. “I like you, dude.”

You scoff and shake your head, a small laugh falling from your lips. “Yeah, sure, you like me.”

“I do man. You’re just like- so cool dude.” His hands drop as he tries to explain something with his hands. “It’s just like- I dunno- my day just gets better when you’re around.” Your heart jumps, breathing falters before he continues. He takes in a deep breath. “Just a great-no-like awesome friend.”

Your heart sinks. Your stomach knots. Your hands shake.

Charlie's mouth is moving but no noise comes out. The only thing you hear is your panicked heartbeat. It vibrates throughout your whole body, making your knees buckle with each pulse. He notices your silence, though it’s somewhat usual, the air is thick. He sees how your jaw tenses and how a glazed look is on your face.

“…you good?” He stutters out. You laugh sharply, your hands coming up to your heated face and bringing a cooling sensation. You take a deep breath in, lips pressed together in a thin line. You clear your throat, not even sure what’s going to spill out of your mouth.

“Charlie.” Okay, starting strong! “It’s- I mean- you just- I’m so-” Fuck, dude. You shake your head in disbelief at the situation, hoping the blinking would somehow make it disappear. He’s watching you struggle with furrowed brows, which makes it even more frustrating, he must think this is so fucking weird. “I just…” You trail off, taking in a deep breath, and locking eyes with him.

“I’m so in love with you.” You rush out. He stills. His hands fall to his sides and his eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Your heartbeat is through the fucking roof at this point, and your breathing is erratic. You can’t read his look, the information processing. You look away from him now, arms coming up to self-soothe. His mouth opens but you cut him off swiftly.

“And I know the waitress is your one true love or whatever, but she doesn’t even like you!” You state, exasperated. It’s harsh coming from you. “She doesn’t even care, Charlie.” Your tone falls flat. “She can go by every day without thinking about you, and god, sometimes I wish I could do the same. You haunt my thoughts like the ghouls you’re so sure of…” You laugh and look down. “It’s pathetic really, how often you drift through my mind. You know, the first time I came to Paddy’s I was just trying to use the bathroom, but you looked at me. God, the way you looked at me. The smile on your face when I waved, my heart stopped beating. I only stayed cause I had to talk to you, fuck, I needed to hear your voice. The bar is so scary too, but I just needed to be around you. I craved the feeling of your eyes on me and how you would always stop whatever you were doing just to say hi. You have an awful beer selection that I don’t even like, but when you serve it, it tastes like liquid gold! And the way you tell stories gets me so entrapped, how you’re so passionate-”

His hand is holding your cheek, lifting it to look at him. Your eyes are hot and glazed, tears threatening to spill over. His look is soft, his touch is warm but you can feel the callouses against your cheek. God, he’s holding you so softly, like you're fragile. His other hand rests on the back of your arm, thumb stroking softly. Your breath is stuck in your throat, shock is evident on your features.

“God, Charlie.” You laugh as tears crawl down your cheek. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I said all”

His lips are on yours. His lips are on yours.

You close your eyes and your hand cups his face, his lips are so warm, and so soft compared to what you dreamed about. His facial hair tickles you softly, which is oddly endearing. He’s pulling you close, holding you as if you’d crumble, you fear you might if he lets go.

The kiss ends sooner than you’d like, his face is unreadable besides the small smile that graces his lips. You bet your eyes are wild, your skin is covered in goosebumps by this point.

“But- the waitress-” You try to reason with him.

“Doesn’t matter.” His voice is firm. “Nothing matters if I have you.”

Nothing matters if I have you.

#charlie kelly #charlie kelly x reader #charlie kelly fic #it's always sunny in philadelphia #x reader

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itacestians-unite · 2 months

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I HAVE A QUESTION!! How do you think itacest spends family events like Christmas or New years? I personally hc them to go off somewhere alone so they can be gay together (lol) but im curious to hear your hcs :o

thanks for asking!

wait are we talking in like a human au because i have some THOUGHTS

i love familial stuff i have this concept in my head where the italies + their nyos + seborga are all siblings and live at home (probably somewhere in central italy) (no seborga doesn't get a nyo version i'm sorry) (he's also the youngest he's baby)

i do have a particular fic i've been wanting to write with this dynamic but it's specifically a veneziano x nyo romano fic…… i can talk about it if anyone's interested it's just one of those "siblings sneaking around trying to make out while nearly getting caught" type fics it's my love <3

BUT ANYWAY i'll stick to regular itacest for this ask. here's just a big dump of scenarios that came to mind (TW: religious guilt)

i love love familial stuff. i'm imagining a bunch of family coming over for the holidays and doing that thing family always does where they need to have an opinion on Everything. "your room is so messy. haven't you grown out of that by now?" and of course the infamous "when are you having kids? i want grandbabies."

they're all sitting around the table for lunch when the pestering truly begins.

feliciano goes along with it even though inside, his heart is tight and he's thinking to himself "we can never have kids. we can't even adopt one. i can't have a family with lovino. it'd be taboo it'd be weird and everyone would be asking why why why"

he forces this bright smile and rambles on from his ass, implying that he just wants to flirt around with women and stay single. rome from the other end of the table goes "haha, that's my boy!"

lovino doesn't entertain any of them. you ask when he's going to have kids and he goes "try fucking never. kids are brats who scream, cry, and shit themselves all the time."

a condescending eye roll. "you must know a lot about that."

"EXCUSE ME? i don't fucking shit myself but i'm sure that's a lot more than your creped ass can say in your old age"

lovino slams his hands down on the table and makes the whole thing shake. feliciano is mortified. most everyone else is unphased, though someone snaps at lovino not to shatter any dishes during his tantrum. this is nothing out of the ordinary with them.

family members start pestering lovino about when is he gonna get a wife, how he can't get a wife with that attitude. one of them starts listing off women they know who "might be able to put up with them." he turns down every single one with a scoff.

feliciano stares quietly the entire time this is ongoing, face slowly getting flushed, the grip on his fork getting tighter, until he eventually snaps, pleasant tone contrasting with the look of irritation in his eyes, "maybe lovino is like me and doesn't want to settle down yet."

"i don't think he has the personality to get away with that."

lovino snaps back without hesitation. he's then scolded for using blasphemies at the table.

i think they also argue a lot more around religious holidays. lovino is always volatile, but the guilt he's reminded of everyday makes him especially so. he can't decide whether to run to feliciano or avoid him, leave him for feliciano's own sake and fuck off somewhere far away. pushing and pulling, kissing and rejecting. feliciano is usually good at letting things side and suppressing his anger so well he doesn't even feel it, yet with the shame raging over him and lovino's increasingly pissy mood, getting unpredictably turned down for snuggles and kisses, he can't help but snap back, all passive aggressive, and that's just makes lovino even angrier. he tells feliciano to stop being a coward and talk real shit or keep his mouth shut. feliciano insists in exasperation that he doesn't want to fight and tries to run away, but lovino blocks him.

i don't see them having hate sex (feliciano, in particular, i don't think could handle it. but i think lovino would be all for it.) but it sounds fun to write nonetheless.

back to the religion part, their relationship is incest. it's gay. it's unholy. there's nothing saving it no matter how you look at it. they go to church together, come home together, do not sleep together that night out of shame.

feliciano feels that swirling pit of guilt in his stomach and tries to go to lovino for comfort, tries placing a kiss to his lips, forgetting himself in the feeling of someone he loves.

lovino snaps, shoving him off, his own guilt gnawing at his bones. "fuck, don't touch me."

"I just want to kiss you."

"you don't need to kiss me. there's not a single goddamn reason you'd ever need to kiss me."

"but… i want to. i love you." feliciano's hands wrap loosely, hesitantly around lovino's waist.

"i said don't fucking touch me! for god's sake, feliciano. you think i want my brother's hands all over my body? you think i'm a sick bastard who's into that?"

feliciano freezes, all teary-eyed as he releases lovino, takes two steps back. "i'm sorry. i just want to forget how gross it feels in my own body right now by loving yours instead."

he turns and leaves in a hurry. lovino slams a fist against the table, unsure if he hates himself more for hurting feliciano or for loving him.

they make up, eventually, and proceed to have some of their hottest sex.

heavy breathing in a dark room, naked bodies frotting against each other, feliciano's fingers digging into lovino's shoulders, lovino squeezing feliciano's hips so hard they bruise, hushed moans between desperate, wet kisses, trying so hard to stay quiet in the dead of night. if they lose themselves in the passion, they can run away from the sin of it all.

#ask #anonymous #hetalia #itacest #aph italy #aph veneziano #aph romano #hws italy #hws romano #aph north italy #aph south italy #tw incest #religious guilt #lemon.txt

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the-wild-wolves-around-you · 2 years

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hear those bells ring: chapter 5 (a bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo and Reader settle into their new agreement as healer and patient. (This is basically 2k of Kiri teasing Bakugo, and 8k of slow-burn terrible flirting. I will die on the hill that even as an adult Bakugo hasn't learned how to talk to women lmao)

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Adult language.

A/N: Heyyyyy sorry it's been so long lol. I got covid a few months back, immediately followed by a completely separate health scare (i'm fine) and just have not found the energy or motivation to do anything besides nap, watch tv, and doom scroll after I clock out from my job :p

But I got bit by the creative bug yesterday, so here's a 10k chapter haha.

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 3 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 4 Tumblr Link: Here

“You’re here early. Hoping to see a certain someone?”

Bakugo immediately scowled as he stepped off the elevator and came face to face with a grinning Red Riot, who was in the casual sweatpants and tank combo that he usually slept in.

“I told you to drop that shit last night, idiot,” the blond said as he stomped past his partner. “And you’re here earlier than me, so shut up.”

“But see, I have an excuse, because I never left. I just crashed in one of the rooms.” Kirishima jogged to catch up with him, and the redhead wouldn’t wipe the infuriating smirk off his lips. “You, on the other hand, went home, got, what, maybe four hours of sleep? And then came in particularly early, on a day you’re not supposed to be here until noon. Why’s that, Bakubro?”

Bakugo felt his eyebrow twitch, and he curled his hands into fists and stuffed them into the pockets of his bomber jacket to keep them from sparking. But it was hard not to slap his palm against his friend’s face and light it up, because the bastard had teased him all night long during their patrol.

The blond should have known it would come up after he insisted on picking you up, but he had hoped Kirishima would just take his bald faced lie about wanting to “apologize” to you in private and clean up his image a bit.

Unfortunately, Shitty Hair had known him too long and immediately called him out on his bullshit.

Apologize? You? Do you even know that word? And clean up your image? Who are you and what have you done to Katsuki Bakugo?

Then, when Bakugo snapped and told him to just shut up and drop it, Kirishima’s eyes had gone wide before a devious smirk stretched across his lips.

Holy shit. You like her.

Of course, Bakugo had scoffed at the idea like it was ridiculous—because it was ridiculous—and said that you were just some stupid extra he didn’t even know, and he was only trying to keep you from running and crying to the media about him being the ass that blew up your grandparent’s legacy shop.

But Kirishima just couldn’t leave well enough alone, and he’d badgered the blond hero with questions about what the two of you had done and talked about after Bakugo picked you up. It didn’t help matters that Bakugo had shown up thirty minutes later than the time he’d promised to meet the redhead on their patrol, but it wasn’t his fucking fault you were a self-sacrificing idiot who apparently liked to starve herself.

Mentioning the food had been his biggest mistake. Because once Kirishima knew the blond had bought you food and taken you to one of their patrol lookout spots, the redhead was insufferable.

Fuck, dude, you really like her. I can count on one hand the number of dates you’ve been on in the last several years, and you bought food for none of those women. Let alone taking them to a romantic spot that overlooks the city.

The idiot was looking at it all wrong. Bakugo didn’t go on dinner dates because he found the whole making small talk between bites to be lethally tedious. Meeting a woman for drinks was much easier, the woman usually didn’t have as many expectations. Which was good, because Bakugo didn’t do serious relationships. Well, he didn’t do casual ones either, but sometimes, usually after a particularly shitty fight, he had a particular itch to scratch, and most women weren’t about to turn down a night of passion with Japan’s Number Two hero. But that was usually all it was, one night, because Bakugo had more important things to deal with and didn’t need some needy fangirl blowing up his phone every day.

But none of that even fucking mattered, because he didn’t take you on a date. He bought himself food and gave you some so that you wouldn’t pass out when he interrogated you. He had just needed answers, it wasn’t like he particularly gave a damn about the bruised circles under your eyes or how your face looked a little too pale when he picked you up.

And the lookout spot hadn’t been romantic. It was just the first place he could think of where the two of you could be alone and eat, because like he’d told you, he wasn’t going to let you ruin his leather seats with greasy fingers.

Bakugo’s decisions were always practical. Kirishima was just reading too much into shit.

“Yo, Bakubroooooo…”

Speaking of…

“What?” the blond growled as he snapped out of his thoughts. When he looked up, he realized he and Kirishima were standing in his office, next to his desk which was strewn with papers.

“Have you heard a word I said, or have you just been daydreaming about you-know-who?” Kirishima asked with a shit-eating grin, and then he immediately ducked and yelped as Bakugo chucked the nearest object at him, which turned out to be some stupid paperweight that just showed up on the blond’s desk one day. “Broooo, not cool.”

“Stop crying, I didn’t even hit you,” Bakugo scoffed. “You can harden yourself anyway, idiot. Now, did you actually have something you needed to talk to me about, or are you just running your fuckin’ mouth?”

“So mean, Kacchan,” the redhead pouted, because he knew that name always got under Bakugo’s skin.

Bakugo narrowed his eyes and blindly reached for the next nearest item on his desk, but Red Riot threw up his arms in an X over his face, his skin preemptively rippling with his hardening quirk.

“Alright, alright, I’ll leave you alone,” he said with a hint of laughter in his voice, but then he poked his head out from behind his arms, glanced out the glass walls of Bakugo’s office, and smirked. “In fact, I think I see a better conversation partner right now.”

Bakugo frowned and followed the redhead’s line of sight, and a weird sensation wriggled through his chest.

You were standing uncertainly near the elevators, shifting from foot to foot and wringing the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing in your hands. In all honestly, you looked a little ridiculous. Well, your hair was brushed and orderly, and your face looked pink and freshly washed. He couldn’t tell for sure from this distance, but he thought you were even wearing a bit of makeup. Not too much, but enough to put a little color in your cheeks and brighten your eyes, so from the neck up, you looked acceptable.

The neck down was what looked ridiculous.

Your short frame was practically drowning in the clothes you were wearing, which were the merch items he and Kirishima had given you yesterday. They hadn’t known your sizes, so Kirishima sized up to be safe, and apparently he went too far. The orange, green, and black Dynamight sweatshirt hung almost to your knees, the neckline gaping a little around the jut of your collarbones. The hoodie clashed horribly with the Red-Riot chibi pajama bottoms, which were a bright crimson with stupid tiny Kirishimas all over them, but the pants at least matched the Red-Riot fuzzy socks peeking out the way-too long hems that pooled around your feet.

Bakugo felt a twinge of jealousy that you were wearing two pieces of Kirishima’s merch and only one of his, but he immediately squashed the thought into a deep corner of his brain and set it on fire because what the fuck? Why should he care?

He didn’t. He was just… fucking tired. He’d only gotten a couple of hours of sleep last night. Not because he was thinking of you or anything. Just… about how your quirk could, and would, help him in the future.

“Well, doesn’t she look pretty?” Kirishima muttered and violently tugged Bakugo from his thoughts.

A flare of heat ignited in his chest, but the blond told himself it was just irritation at being involved in this dumbass conversation.

“Pretty stupid,” he found himself saying, but even that didn’t stop Kirishima from throwing him a smirk.

“Maybe you should go grab some coffee or a nap or something, Mr. Grumpy Pants,” he said as he straightened up and ran a hand through his spiky hair. “And I’ll go wish our guest a good morning.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo snapped, but the redhead only laughed before he left the office and walked across the bullpen area to reach you.

Bakugo scowled after his friend and watched as he called out to you with a friendly wave. Some of the nervous uncertainly drained from your face when you saw the red-haired hero, and you even smiled at him as he stopped in front of you.

The blond stood there staring at the two of you as he tried to figure out his next course of action. On the one hand, if he walked up to you now, Kirishima would be sending him not-so-subtle looks and smirks, which might just push Bakugo over the edge this morning.

But on the other hand, he didn’t want to retreat and get coffee or whatever Kirishima suggested because the bastard would also use that as ammunition for his next teasing streak.

Also, there had been a reason Bakugo came in so early when he should have been catching a few more hours of sleep. After you agreed to help him last night, he didn’t have time to ask you all the questions swirling around his head because Kirishima had started to blow up the blond’s phone, so the two of you quickly finished your dinners before Bakugo sped over to the agency, unceremoniously dropped you off with his PR manager, and then left to go on his patrol.

But his questions had kept him up half the night. How did you quirk work? How were you able to heal something, seemingly without realizing it, that a doctor had told him hours previously would never work again? And if your quirk was so damn powerful, why the hell were you working as a damn seamstress, grandparents be damned?

It didn’t make any sense. And Bakugo hated when he didn’t know things.

Before he even made the conscious decision, his feet started moving for him, and his brain only caught up when your eyes locked on his over Kirishima’s shoulder.

Those same eyes widened, and Bakugo thought he saw your face go a little pink before Kirishima whirled around and grinned at him.

Bakugo wanted to punch out every one of his pointy, smug teeth.

“Wellllll, Bakubro, how nice of you to come say good morning to our guest,” the redhead drawled. “She was just telling me she slept well.”

“Did I ask?” The blond scowled, but then his eyes clicked over to you, and he saw you wince and swallow. God, you had the shittiest poker face. “Stitches.”

“G-Good morning, Dyn— uh, Bakugo,” you stuttered and cleared your throat, and the hero didn’t miss how you tacked on the “-sama” honorific again.

Kirishima’s sharp white grin was almost blinding in the blond’s peripherals. “Stitches, huh?”

“Shut up, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo said as he threw a glare at the redhead.

The bastard’s grin was so wide now it was about to crack his damn face in half, and he half covered his mouth as he learned toward you and stage whispered. “Don’t worry, his nicknames are a sign of affection.”

“O-Oh,” you muttered, and now you were definitely blushing as you glanced at the explosive hero and quickly looked away.

Bakugo was going to strangle his partner.

“Actually, Shitty Hair, I came up with the nicknames to drive you and all the extras away, but you were like leeches,” Bakugo sneered in an effort to save face, but the effect was ruined when Kirishima just threw his head back and laughed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said as he waved his hand dismissively. “Oh, by the way, Sero texted us about drinks this weekend. And, before you say something all manly like, ‘Like I care,’ I will remind you that it’s Denki’s birthday, and he’ll just cry and then sulk if you don’t show. So, it’s one night of drinks, or weeks of him pouting.”

Bakugo glared at him for several long, silent seconds. “I hate you. And Tapeface. And Dunceface.”

“Love you, too, bro,” Kirishima replied with a wink. “I’ll let them know we RSVPed.”

Movement in his peripherals suddenly caught the blond’s attention, and he turned to see you glancing between him and Kirishima with a slight smile on your lips.

Great. Now he looked like a sappy fucking idiot.

“Stiches,” he barked, which made you jump and face him completely with wide eyes. He realized belatedly that the nickname wasn’t helping his case with his annoying ass partner, but he knew using your real name would only be worse at this point.

“Y-Yes?”

“Have you eaten?” he asked and blatantly ignored Kirishima’s stupid face in the corner of his vision.

“Ahh, no,” you said as you started to shift nervously on your feet again. “I was, um, actually coming down to see if you guys, uh, had something for me, but I wasn’t expecting it or anything! I didn’t want to assume, but I can of course go get my own coffee and breakfast.”

“In that?” Bakugo cocked an eyebrow and gave a pointed look to your overly large and mismatched clothes.

Your cheeks flared red, the flush crawling down your neck and into the collar of your Dynamight hoodie. “My, uh, clothes were all kind of dusty from the… debris in my apartment, so I also wanted to ask if there was a laundry room I could utilize.”

“Of course—” Kirishima started to say before Bakugo cut him off.

“I’ll show you where it is.”

You blinked at him in surprise, as did Kirishima, but his surprise had an undercurrent of glee.

“Feel like playing tour guide, bro?” the redhead taunted, and his lips twitched as he very clearly fought back a smirk.

“Don’t you have a meeting with the extras?” Bakugo sneered and jerked his chin at the circle of sidekicks who were uncertainly standing around the edges of the bullpen area.

“Oh, shit— sorry, guys!” Kirishima shouted at the sidekicks with an apologetic wave. “You all can head into the conference room, and I’ll join you in a minute.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes as he stepped forward and past you, smacking the button for the elevator. He didn’t hear you move to follow him, but he refused to turn around and see his partner’s stupid, smirking face anymore, so he snapped over his shoulder as the elevator doors opened. “Well, are you coming, Stitches?”

“Oh! Sorry. Y-Yes, I’m coming. Um, see you later, Red— Kirishima.”

A moment later, you were shuffling into the elevator beside him, and Bakugo turned as the elevator doors started to close.

He unfortunately caught Kirishima shooting him a very obvious wink and finger-guns.

“See you two later!” the redhead yelled as the doors cinched shut, and then Bakugo was left staring at his own scowling reflection.

He was going to kick Kirishima’s ass the next time they sparred.

“Um, Bakugo,” you said after a moment of silence, tacking on the “-sama” honorific once again.

“Stop that,” he snapped irritably.

“Stop… what?” You blinked up at him and seemed to shuffle a few inches back until you were half-pressed into the elevator wall.

Bakugo prided himself on being the best hero there was, and part of that was striking fear into the hearts of idiot villains who would dare stand against him. But something about the spark of unease he saw in your gaze didn’t sit right with him, made something in his chest feel weird, and he huffed as he moved over and leaned against the opposite wall of the elevator.

He wasn’t giving you more room, he was just tired of standing upright.

“Stop the -sama shit,” he muttered as he glared off into the corner. “I don’t need you to blow hot air up my ass.”

“I’m… sorry if I’ve offended you,” you said, and he could hear the confusion in your voice even if he couldn’t see it on your face at the moment. “I— like I mentioned, I moved here not very long ago, so I’m still learning the social customs. I was just trying to be respectful.”

“You didn’t feel need to be so ‘respectful’ with Shitty Hair,” he pointed out as his eyes flicked back over to you. You’d only used the ‘-san’ honorific with the hardening hero, a detail that Bakugo isn’t sure why he noticed.

“Well, I— he seemed to want me to be more informal with him,” you stammered as you fidgeted under his crimson gaze. “Besides…”

“Besides what?” the blond pressed when you trailed off into silence.

You bit you lip and stared down at your feet, shuffling in your Red-Riot socks and open toed slippers. “Besides… you were the one who saved me— my neighborhood from that villain. I just wanted to show you my gratitude.”

Now, it was Bakugo’s turn to squirm with uncertainty. Citizens threw him praise all the time in the middle of disaster zones, but he was quick to brush them off and keep moving. Here, he was stuck in a small box with you, and he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he shoved them into the pockets of his bomber jacket.

Then he realized with a start that he hadn’t pressed the fucking button to get the elevator moving, and he cursed under his breath as he jabbed his thumb into the panel.

The elevator jolted to life, and he saw you sway on your feet out of the corner of his eye. Silence descended over the pair of you as you transitioned floors, and when the doors dinged open, he strode through them without a backward glance.

“Come on, Stitches,” he called over his shoulder, and he heard your soft footsteps scurry after him down the tiled hallway.

“Wait… this is my floor,” you murmured after a moment, and he glanced back to see you looking around with a furrowed brow.

“No shit,” he said. “Didn’t you say you needed to do laundry?”

“O-Oh, right.” You nodded and nervously tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and he noticed that the hoodie you wore was so long, the sleeves swallowed almost the entirety of your hands. You kept pushing them over your wrists, like you couldn’t sit still, but the fabric just fell back into place every time.

“I— We can get you another one.”

What the fuck? What was he saying? Why was he talking?

“Another what?” you asked, looking up to meet his eyes, but then you gasped as you tripped over the hems of your too-long pants.

Bakugo caught your elbow without thinking, and he frowned as he remembered you falling out of his car last night.

“You really are fucking clumsy, aren’t you?” he grunted as he helped steady you on your feet.

“Sorry.” You blushed and quickly extracted yourself from his grip. “You can obviously see why I failed the entrance exam to the hero course. Twice. My dad always said I was blessed with a stronger version of my mother’s quirk because the universe knew I’d trip off a cliff and die otherwise. And my gift has certainly come in handy a number of times, as you know from, well…”

You stopped rambling and let out a nervous, tittering laugh before you seemed to catch yourself, and then you snapped your head up and darted an anxious look up and down the hall.

“Take a breath,” Bakugo said when he realized what got you so squirrely. “All the sidekicks are downstairs with Shitty Hair right now. But try and watch your words more carefully. We both got secrets, and I don’t need you blabbing about either of them.”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” You winced and ducked your head.

Bakugo stared down at you. “You apologize too fucking much.”

“I’m so— um, I mean, I know. I’ll… try to stop.” You seemed to shrink into the collar of your Dynamight hoodie, and you wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Something about your cowering dog posture made his skin itch, and for some idiotic reason, Shitty Hair’s words from the other day floated through his head.

Be nice.

Bakugo scowled and looked away from you, down the hall. Then he took a deep breath and tried to recall every half-listened to piece of advice his PR manager had given to him over the years.

“Look,” he finally said at length, and he turned to face you fully. “I know this whole shit-fest situation isn’t ideal to you, but the agency is gonna have your little shop looking better than new in a few weeks, and I’m not gonna turn you or any of your little patients into the cops or immigration. And I don’t know what you’ve heard on the damn news or online, but I only hurt shitheads who deserve it. Disregarding the fact that hurting you world be stupid since I need your quirk, I’m not a fuckin’ monster. So stop looking like I’m gonna hit you.”

You gaped at him for a solid ten seconds, your mouth opening and closing, but Bakugo suddenly didn’t want to hear what you had to say in response to his sappy rant, so he turned to lead you down the hallway again.

“Come—”

“I… didn’t think you would hit me.”

Your words drew him up short, and he paused midstride, glancing back over his shoulder. Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but you met his eyes this time, and your voice when you continued came out steady.

“I didn’t think you would hit me,” you repeated as you maintained eye contact. “I just… don’t want to annoy you. You’re already doing so much for me, with taking me in and fixing the shop, I don’t want to be more of a burden than I already am.”

“Who said you were a burden?” Bakugo scowled. “Don’t be putting words in my mouth. My agency is well-off. We can afford to feed you for a few damn weeks, and fixing your shop is nothing.”

That was a little bit of a lie. Bakugo had to listen to his accountants bitch and moan over the expenses he’d racked up in the last week, but you didn’t need to know that.

“I’m—” You bit you lip and stopped midsentence, and by your wince Bakugo could tell you were biting back another apology. After a moment, you managed to affix a smile to your face, and the blond noticed it was a little crooked. “I didn’t mean to imply anything. From what I’ve seen, the agency looks amazing, but I guess I should have expected nothing less from Japan’s Number Two hero.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes on you. He couldn’t tell if you were trying to patronize him or not, but he couldn’t deny he felt a thrill of pride at you complimenting the agency he built up from nothing using just his blood, sweat, and tears.

“Damn straight,” he finally huffed before he jerked his chin down the hall. “Now, hurry up and grab your clothes. I don’t have all day.”

“Oh.” You blinked in surprise when you realized you were several feet from your door. Then you startled into action, hurrying past him and patting your pockets until you let out another nervous laugh. “Oops. Forgot there’s no key. I always lock my apartment even when I’m just downstairs in the shop, left over habit from growing up in America, but Japan’s actually been much safer so far. Well… excluding the other night I guess…”

Fuck, you really liked to babble. It reminded him of Deku, but for some reason, you weren’t as annoying when you did it.

“Is that a problem?” Bakugo suddenly found himself asking without meaning to, and when you looked up at him with a confused expression, he felt the need to clarify. “The no key thing? We can get you a lock or something. If you need one.”

Great. Now your rambling was brushing off on him. That, coupled with his lack of sleep, was the only explanation as to why the fuck he was asking these stupid ass questions.

“Oh, no, I’m fine!” You immediately waved him off as you opened the door. “I mean, what safer place is there than a hero agency, right? Let alone Dynamight and Red Riot’s agency. Like I said, just a habit, but I’ll get used to it.”

Bakugo grunted noncommittally, and you stared at him for a minute before you jumped.

“Right, let me just… grab my stuff,” you muttered as you started to slip through the door. “I’ll be back in a moment.”

Bakugo opened his mouth to ask if you needed help, but then caught himself, wondering why the fuck he was trying to be so accommodating.

Fortunately, you didn’t see the internal war on his face because you slipped into your room and clicked the door shut behind you, leaving him standing alone in the hallway with what sounded like Kirishima snickering in the back of his head.

He really needed a fucking nap.

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

You really needed a fucking drink. Or several. Were bars even open this early in the morning?

Not that you could even go to one. Because apparently you were about to do your laundry with Pro Hero Dynamight.

A strangled noise rose up in the back of your throat at the ridiculousness of your situation, followed by a blush that covered your whole face as you leaned back against your closed door and took a deep breath.

This whole situation was turning out to be a nightmare. In more ways than one.

Firstly, you hated relying on anyone for any type of help. Maybe that was unhealthy, but that was just how you were. So, having to rely on others for shelter, food, bills, and other necessities like just clean damn clothes was already bad enough.

Then there was the stupid dream you had last night.

You couldn’t remember most of it, which was a blessing, but you did remember flashes of pale, scarred skin, the smell of caramelizing sugar, and a deep voice groaning your name.

You didn’t know who to blame more: your traitorous mind or body. Sure, he had saved you, technically not purposefully, and yeah, it had been… a while since you had any intimate experience with someone, and sadly even longer since you went on a nice date, but you logically knew Pro Hero Dynamight hadn’t taken you out on a date. He bought himself food, gave you some probably so you didn’t pass out, and then brought you to a private location to pry the truth about your quirk out of you. And maybe there had been a few nice, comfortable minutes of silence after that interrogation, where the two of you just finished your dinners quietly while looking out over the city. But that didn’t mean what your lonely body and mind wanted it to mean, and you berated yourself for being so reactive. You’d been blushing, stumbling, and fumbling over your words all morning, to the point where Bakugo thought you were afraid of him.

And maybe you had been a little afraid when you first met him, but now you were just on edge, trying not to be so stupidly obvious even though, as the blond had pointed out many times, your poker face was awful.

So awful that even Kirishima had noticed.

You groaned and dropped your face into your hands as you recalled the sly smirks and looks the redhead hero had thrown at his partner down on their main floor. He’d obviously been teasing the blond, so the hardening hero had obviously clocked your awkwardness and blushes, which was just mortifying.

How were you going to survive the next several weeks?

“Stitches!” Bakugo suddenly pounded his fist against the door, making you jump. “Are you almost done? I’m growing fuckin’ old out here.”

“Sorry!” you shouted back reflexively and then cringed at the apology. “I’ve almost got everything, just a moment!”

You scrambled away from the door and toward your bed. The room they’d set you up in wasn’t very extravagant, but it was bigger than your bedroom back home, so you couldn’t complain. There was a small attached bathroom, no shower, but it had a toilet, sink, and mirror. A desk was shoved in the opposite corner, next to a wooden wardrobe, and a bed lay beneath the window across from the door.

Thankfully, you hadn’t even really tried to unpack after realizing your clothes were all dusty, so you just zipped the duffel bag up and hurriedly slung it over your shoulder. The extra weight off balanced you for a moment, but you righted yourself without falling and then grabbed your rolling suitcase.

When you yanked open your door, Bakugo was leaning against the opposite side of the hallway, with his arms crossed over his chest and his right leg hiked up behind him so the sole of his boot pressed into the wall. His black bomber jacket and dark jeans made his looming frame look lithe and compact, his pale hair and white t-shirt standing out in stark contrast, and you had the errant thought that he should have been a model instead of a hero.

No. Stop it.

“Fuckin’ finally,” the blond muttered as he shoved himself off the wall.

You quickly turned to close the door behind you, but when you turned back to face him, he was suddenly inches from you, the smell of burnt sugar almost cloying in your nose.

What kind of cologne did he wear? It was absolutely driving you insane.

“What—” you started to ask but were cut off when he suddenly slipped a finger under the strap on your shoulder and unceremoniously yanked the duffel bag right off you, much like he did when he picked you up the other night.

“You’ll be too slow carrying both of them,” he grunted, slinging the bag over his shoulder before he marched past you and further down the hall.

You ran to catch up to him, your rolling suitcase clattering along the tile behind you, and the blond slowed his pace until the two of you were side by side. Then he suddenly scowled down at you.

“Don’t go tripping again,” he said, glaring at your too-long pants. “After we throw your shit in the machine, I’ll get one of the interns to grab you clothes that actually fucking fit.”

“Oh, you really don’t have to do that,” you rushed to assure him.

“I’m not gonna be around all the time to keep you from faceplanting, Stitches.” He rolled his red eyes as he came to a stop in front of a door, grabbed the handle, and shouldered it open. “Last thing we need is for you to fuck yourself up on agency property.”

“It’s not like I’m going to sue you over me being clumsy.” You frowned as you followed him into what you quickly realized was the laundry room, given all the machines that lined the walls. “Besides, my quirk heals my own minor injuries usually in a twenty-four hour period. So, even if I did ‘fuck myself up,’ I’d be fine by the next day.”

“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” Bakugo grumbled as he dumped your bag onto one of the folding tables.

“I’m not stubborn,” you argued, but when he cocked a pale eyebrow at you, you deflated and blushed. “I just… don’t want to be ungrateful. Or wasteful. I can hem the pants myself… well, once I have some new equipment. But I don’t need a new set. And…”

Here, you trailed off, your cheeks flaring with more heat, and Bakugo grunted with irritation.

“And what?” he asked as he stared at you with those intense crimson eyes.

“And… I like the sweatshirt,” you muttered, lifting your rolling suitcase onto the table beside the duffle so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I mean, I-I like my sweatshirts a little bigger anyways. They’re more… comfy that way.”

Bakugo was silent for a moment too long, so you peeked up at him through your lashes and found him raking his gaze over you from head to toe. You were sure your cheeks were as red as stop signs now, but the pro hero didn’t comment as he pushed away from the folding table.

“Whatever,” he said as he started making his way toward the door. “I’m assuming you know what a washer and dryer look like and how to work them?”

“Y-Yes?” You furrowed your brow at his retreating back.

“Good,” he said over his shoulder, and then he was walking out the door, leaving you alone in the large white room with the silent machines and your dirty clothes.

You blinked after him for a moment, confused, but then shook your head. What were you expecting? He said he would show you where the laundry room was, and he did. He wasn’t about to fold your clothes, no matter what your overactive imagination said.

“Pull it together,” you berated yourself, turning to your bags and pulling out your dusty laundry.

You separated your clothes into piles based off their color and specific care instructions, just like your father taught you as a child. In college, your roommates made fun of you for not just tossing everything in together to meet death or glory, but you found the whole process relaxing. You would usually listen to some music or a podcast when you did your laundry, but your headphones were currently charging back in your room, since you used them all night to try and fall asleep in such a new environment.

You didn’t usually like to be alone with your thoughts for too long, and now was no exception, especially given the dream flashes that were still lingering along the fringes of your mind.

So, you started thinking about all the things you would have to do once your shop reopened. You would need to make a list of all the customer pieces that had been destroyed in the wreckage and contact their owners to see how they wanted to proceed. Since most of your customers were sweet, elderly people, they’d probably be very gracious, but you planned to give them a sizable discount for the inconvenience of being out of commission for several weeks. Then there were a few fabric vendors you would need to touch base with…

You hummed to yourself as you started putting the different piles of clothes in their own washing machines. They were all currently empty, so you didn’t feel too bad about taking up three machines on your own, but then you frowned when you realized you didn’t know where the detergent was kept.

“Soap’s in the cabinet in the corner.”

“Fucking shit!” You jumped out of your skin as you whirled around, and Bakugo smirked from where he was leaning against the folding table next to your bags.

“You really need to pay attention to your surroundings, Stitches,” he snickered. “Also, I might not know much English, but I know enough to know you’ve got a very dirty mouth.”

You blushed to the roots of your hair, both from embarrassment and from hearing the word “dirty” come out of his own mouth.

“I-I thought you had left,” you argued.

“That’s what you get for thinkin’.” The blond shrugged. “Come on, it’s gonna get cold.”

“What is?” you asked with a frown, but then the smell of coffee and warm, delicious food wafted into your nose, and your stomach gurgled.

“Breakfast, obviously.” He rolled his crimson eyes. “Are you going to put the soap in the machines or what?”

You didn’t want to embarrass yourself further by stuttering out more questions, so you turned to the corner of the room that had a cabinet bolted into the wall and strode over to it. Inside were various bottles of different detergents and softeners, as well as dryer sheets and reusable dryer balls, and you grabbed the first detergent you saw before marching back over to the machines and filling them up.

When you were done, you put the detergent back in the cabinet before you hesitantly made your way over to the pro hero, and you saw that your bags had been blocking the two bowls and two mugs of coffee Bakugo had set onto the folding table.

“Where did this come from?” you couldn’t help but ask as you stared at the food. It seemed to be a mixture of fried rice, eggs, and various vegetables, with two pieces of grilled fish shoved up along the lip of each bowl.

“It fell out of the sky,” the blond scoffed as he reached into the pocket of his jacket, pulled out two sets of wrapped chopsticks, and handed one to you.

“I’m serious.” You frowned but took the chopsticks. “I hope you didn’t have to go out and get this, I—”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, Stitches,” he muttered, opening his own chopsticks before he picked up his bowl and hopped onto the row of machines opposite the folding table. “The room next door is a kitchen. The interns and sidekicks usually keep it stocked so we can cook between shifts if we want to. You’re free to grab whatever ya want while you’re here. Also, pass me one of the mugs, will ya?”

“You… cooked this?” you asked as you picked up one of the cups of black coffee and passed it over to him. Then you opened your own chopsticks and glanced down at the bowl. It smelled delicious.

“Yeah, well, I hadn’t eaten this morning, so I threw something together.” Bakugo scowled and shoved a bite of fish into his mouth, swallowing sharply before he spoke again. “If you don’t like it, you’re welcome to go get your own shit.”

“No, no, I— thank you, it smells amazing,” you hurriedly corrected.

Bakugo grunted around another bite of food but didn’t say anything else as he took a deep swig of coffee and kept eating. Not wanting to offend him, or let the meal grow cold, you picked up your bowl and tried not to drool at the mouth-watering aromas that assaulted your nose. Using your chopsticks, you tore off a chunk of fish and scooped up some rice, and the moment the mixture hit your tongue, your eyes rolled into the back of your head.

“Mmmmm,” you moaned as you savored the various flavors. The fish had a charredness that paired well with some kind of citrusy note, the vegetables were fresh and crunched between your teeth, and the rice and eggs were umami and spicy in turns.

You opened your eyes as your swallowed, only to find Bakugo staring at your intensely. Your skin immediately prickled under his scarlet gaze, and you reached up to touch the corner of your mouth.

“Do I have something on my face?” you muttered in embarrassment. “My mother always said I was a messy eater. As a kid, I always ended up with rice in my hair somehow.”

Oh my god. What were you saying? Shut up, shut up, shut up.

Bakugo, to his credit, didn’t laugh at you, but he did continue to stare at you almost unblinkingly.

“You’re fine,” he said after a long moment, then seemed to quickly correct himself. “I mean, you’re rice free for now.”

“Oh… good,” you said lamely and cursed yourself.

You suddenly felt very awkward just standing there holding your bowl, so after a quick moment of consideration, you set it on the folding table behind you, moved your bags onto the floor, and then hopped up onto the table so you were sitting opposite from where the blond was perched on his machine.

“Here,” Bakugo grunted once you were settled, and you looked up to see him fishing something out of his jacket pocket. When he extended his hand to you, you saw a couple crumpled packets of sugar and creamer nestled in his palm.

You stared at his hand for a moment, and he shook it impatiently at you.

“For your coffee,” he huffed. “I didn’t know what shit you put in it. If you don’t want it, just toss it.”

“Right,” you said, hastily reaching across the aisle and scooping the cream and sugar up. His palm was warm and very rough under your fingertips, and slick too, but you didn’t know if it was sweat or just the condensation from the creamer. “Thank you.”

You settled back onto the table, taking a moment to fix up your coffee with the appropriate number of sugars and creamer. As you used the opposite end of your chopstick to stir it all together, your skin prickled with the sensation of being watched, and you glanced up to see the blond staring at you again.

He seemed to jump a little when you met his eyes, but his upper lip immediately curled into a sneer.

“Shoulda known you drink that sugary shit,” he said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked with a frown.

“Nothing,” he snorted, turning back to his food again.

You continued to frown at him for a moment before you picked up your food again, ducking your head as you tried to eat without further embarrassing yourself.

A few minutes of silence passed as the two of you ate and sipped your coffees, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t peek at the blond across from you. The first few times, he was just focused on his meal, but the next time you glanced over, your eyes clashed with his, and you poorly suppressed a wince.

Busted.

“Got somethin’ on your mind, Stitches?” he asked.

“No,” you blurted out, but when the blond just continued to stare at you, you started to anxiously kick your feet in the air as you fumbled for a logical response. “Just… this is really good. Thank you again for making it, Bakugo.”

You purposefully tacked on the “-san” honorific instead of “-sama” since he seemed to be so touchy about it, and by the twitch of his eyebrow, you knew he noticed, but you couldn’t read his expression further than that.

“Tch, thought you were gonna bitch it was too spicy,” he grunted before he shoved the last bite of fish into his mouth and set his bowl on the machine beside him. “Shitty Hair always begs for food after a patrol and then whines that it’s too spicy for him.”

A giggled slipped from your lips unbidden as you thought of the hardening hero with tears in his eyes while he fanned his burning tongue. The man had real golden-retriever energy, so you could just picture his dramatic reactions.

When you looked up, Bakugo was staring at your strangely, and you rushed to explain yourself.

“Sorry, it’s just… I can see that,” you said as you fought back a smile. “But, despite the ‘sugary shit’ I drink, I tend to like food spicier than most. I would say most foods could use a little kick.”

Bakugo smirked like what you said amused him, but then he blinked and shook his head slightly, and when he looked back at you, he was wearing his signature scowl.

“Yeah, well, don’t expect me to cook you every meal, Stitches. Some of us don’t get to lay around on a few week vacation.”

You pursed your lips and fought the urge to say that you hadn’t exactly asked for this ‘vacation.’ You didn’t understand the blond. One minute, he was saying something almost borderline nice, and the next, he was snapping at you again.

His obvious displeasure around you at least help to quell the half-formed dream flashes in the back of your head, but it also made you squirm in discomfort. You hated displeasing people. It was a bad habit that had gotten you fucked over at several jobs, and one classmate actually told you to your face that you came off as fake because you were always smiling, always trying to be nice, even when people were walking all over you.

You were trying to be better about that, to grow a little bit of a spine, so you silently finished your foot before you set the bowl beside you on the table and looked up at the pro hero.

“Well, it’s not a full vacation since I’ll be helping you, right?” you asked in an even, business-like tone. “Speaking of, did anything happen on patrol last night? Did you get hurt?”

“I’m not weak enough that I’m getting my ass kicked every day,” Bakugo sneered, the ugly expression twisting his handsome face. “The only reason that asphalt asshole even touched me was because some stupid extra got in the way and needed saving, and I was off duty, so I’d had a few fuckin’ drinks.”

You hadn’t realized he’d been drunk that night. That would explain why even his small cuts and abrasions had been bleeding so much.

Still, did he have to be so damn rude? Calling Mr. Takeyoshi an “extra” was uncalled for.

“Not every comment I make is an insult, Bakugo,” you said without thinking, and this time you purposefully enunciated the “-sama” honorific you added. “You said you needed my quirk, so I have to ask questions to heal you. Also, for future reference, if I was insulting you, you would know it.”

That last comment rolled off your tongue unbidden, and you bit down on the traitorous muscle until you tasted blood. You had wanted to show a little spine, but now your mouth was going to get you into trouble.

Bakugo, for his part, seemed so surprised that the scowl melted off his face, but then he smirked, and you knew you were in trouble by the glint in his red eyes.

“Oh, yeah, Stitches?” he asked. “Well, go on then. Insult me. You seem to have given it some thought.”

You mentally cursed yourself ten times over but quickly thought about your options. Backing down was an option… except not really. The blond had already pointed out how you apologized too much, not to mention your two left feet. You didn’t want to seem even weaker.

But on the other hand, you knew the pro hero was trying to bait you into embarrassing yourself, and you were terrible at insults. You had never insulted anyone to their face, the best you’d done is muttering comebacks under your breath hours after the fact when they finally came to you.

Fuck, he was still staring at you, and his smirk was growing by the second, silently asking, “Wellllll?” You had to say something.

“You’re a… a dick,” you blurted out and then immediately wanted to throw yourself out the window to your left. You were several stories up, right? The fall would probably kill you, and quick too, which would be a mercy.

You were just wondering if the window actually opened or if you would have to throw your body through it, when a noise distracted you.

Your eyes darted back to Bakugo, whose face was contorted almost in pain, like it had been when he woke up with a wooden stake through his gut. Concern started to rise up in you, overshadowing the embarrassment.

Until he finally burst out laughing, apparently unable to hold it back anymore.

Heat flooded your whole body, and your cheeks felt like they were seconds away from bursting into flame.

“Holy… shit,” Bakugo gasped as he hunched over the washing machine he was perched on. He started to compose himself, but then he looked at you and lost it all over again. “You… really got me there. Right in the heart. Probably won’t ever recover from this.”

He mimed stabbing himself in the heart through his snickers, and you errantly wished the building would just collapse around you right now.

“Shut up,” you muttered, turning your red face toward the window. “My parents taught me Japanese, and they didn’t teach me a lot of curse words. And the people I see the most since moving here are little old men and ladies. I don’t have the same vocabulary that I do in English.”

You’d learned both languages simultaneously growing up, but only spoke Japanese with you parents before you moved here, so you were still more comfortable with English.

“Oh, so you’d be able to rip me a new one in English then?” the blond taunted, and his crimson eyes were positively gleeful.

You had walked right into that one.

You huffed silently and decided to stop digging your hole any deeper. The pro hero grinned like he’d won, because he had, and you decided you were just never going to speak again in his presence.

“You give up too easy, Stitches,” he snickered, and you saw him shake his head in your peripherals.

But then he abruptly stopped the motion, and you thought you saw him wince, his hand rising off his thigh and reaching up to rub his brow.

“Does your head hurt?” You turned to face him more fully, all his taunting forgotten as your attention zoomed in on his suddenly scrunched face and narrowed eyes.

Bakugo locked gazes with you as he reflexively opened his mouth, and you could practically see the snappy words that were about to fall off his tongue, but he suddenly… stopped. He froze with his mouth partially open and just stared at you, and the internal struggle behind his red irises was very apparent.

Like he was one to talk about you needing a poker face.

“It’s nothing, just a stupid headache,” he finally said and surprised you. His tone was decidedly softer than the last time you’d asked if he was hurt. It wasn’t exactly gentle, still pretty gruff in fact, but the words weren’t sharpened into points and hurtled at you like daggers.

You’d take that as a win.

“Did you… hit your head last night?” you asked hesitantly, doing your best not to set him off again.

“No,” he grunted before he grabbed his coffee and drained the dregs of it. “Just didn’t sleep enough. I’ll be fin--”

“I can help you.” You winced as you cut him off, and then you started to babble against your will. “I mean, I know a headache probably isn’t much to a pro hero. I’ve personally seen that you get worse injuries, um… I mean, you’re obviously very strong, wouldn’t be the Number Two Hero without… being so strong. But, uh, headaches can just be annoying. From my experience anyway. And I heard Re— Kirishima say that you start your shift s-soon, and starting a shift with a headache is the worst, makes your whole day shitty, so I could just help you… not have one.”

Fucking hell. If you yanked out your tongue right now, would your quirk regrow it? You hoped not.

Bakugo stared at you for a long silent moment before he responded. “Fine.”

“Fine?” you echoed, and you couldn’t even hide the surprise in your tone.

“Yeah, fine.” Now, he was scowling again. “I want to see how your quirk works anyway.”

“O-Okay.” You swallowed sharply and tucked your hands into your overly long sleeves to wipe off the sweat that had suddenly accumulated on them. You glanced down at the ground, past your nervously swinging feet, and then up at the blond on top of the washer, judging the height. He was too tall for you to reach with you both standing, and he would be even taller if you were standing with him perched on the machine.

He seemed to come to the same conclusion at the same time because he slipped off the washer in one smooth movement, boots clacking against the tiled floor. He closed the distance between you in a single stride and then came to a stop inches away from your knees. You still had to look up at him from his position, but you were at least close to eye level.

You were also just really close in general. To him. His sugar smell enveloped you like a cloud, and you started breathing shallowly through your mouth.

Think professional thoughts. Healer thoughts…

Fuck, why was he so goddamn pretty? You didn’t want to think that, shouldn’t be, but it was true. You’d seen images of him before, snapshots on the news, but he was always snarling, or covered in dirt, half hidden by his mask. But now, inches away in the bright morning light coming in through the window, his face was neutral, and you noticed his skin looked incredibly smooth, lips soft and not chapped. His pale coloring contrasted sharply with his piercing red eyes, but not in a bad way, and the lines of his face were sharp, his nose and his jawline carved from marble.

Stop it, you berated yourself. You’re not becoming one of those rabid hero fangirls. You’ve noticed he’s handsome because you have eyes, but this isn’t one of your crazy dreams. Nothing’s going to happen, so don’t make a bigger fool of yourself than you already have.

“Earth to Stitches,” Bakugo drawled and ripped you from your inner lecture. “Do you have to charge up your quirk or somethin’?”

“N-No,” you stuttered before you cleared your throat. “I mean, not really. I just… let me show you. May I?”

You lifted your hands up, the forest green and orange sleeves falling down to your elbows, but you paused and waited for permission.

The blond narrowed his scarlet eyes at you for a moment but then nodded once, so you raised your hands a little higher, and he bowed his head until your fingers met the edges of his hair.

It was surprising soft.

You shoved that thought away as you cupped either side of his skull, your thumbs landing on his temples. You could feel his pulse through the thin skin there, and you closed your eyes as you called up your quirk and funneled it through your fingers.

Immediately, a sharp spike of pain jammed itself between your eyes, and air hissed between your teeth as you inhaled sharply. This was nothing to the hero? He must have a high pain tolerance. You pushed through the discomfort and focused your power through the hero’s skull, worming your ways through the constricted blood vessels causing his headache and widening them until the pain abated. As an afterthought, you turned your attention to his ears, and a slight ringing started up in your own until your quirk washed that away, too.

When you opened your eyes, you jumped, finding the hero’s red gaze trained intensely on your face.

“T-That’s it,” you laughed nervously as you dropped your hands, simultaneously leaning back on the table you were sitting on to get some distance between you and the blond. “Nothing to it.”

“Why did you wince?” Bakugo asked, but given his gruff voice and furrowed brow, it was more like he demanded. “Does your quirk hurt you?”

You fidgeted under his scrutiny. Not many people had questioned you about your quirk beyond what it could do for them, but you already knew the blond was like a dog with a bone and wouldn’t let you rest until he was satisfied with your answers.

“Well, yes, and no,” you said hesitantly. “My quirk lets me heal people, but I also feel their pain. I think the purpose is two-fold. One, to help me identify where the injury is, and two, as a limitation. I’ve, uh, obviously done my research on other healing quirks. I read about this one hero, Recovery Girl, whose abilities were the most similar to mine. Except, I read her healing power was linked to the patient’s stamina.”

“Yeah,” the blond grunted. “The old hag worked at U.A. There were times she wouldn’t even fix us up, because she said our own bodies wouldn’t be able to heal on their own anymore or some shit.”

“Right.” You nodded but were a little surprised to learn he’d personally known such a well-renowned healer. “Well, my ability is tied to my own stamina, so the weaker I am, the less I can heal others. But thankfully, my quirk just automatically heals my own injuries, as long as I’m hydrated and have eaten enough food. The severity of the wound is really my only limitation. I’ve built up a pretty high pain tolerance over the years, so I can push through most things, but if someone was like missing a limb, that kinda of pain would probably push me into shock, and I wouldn’t be able to focus on my quirk. Thankfully, I haven’t come across something like that, the worst was probably the o-other-- uh, never mind. But, um, yeah… that’s how it works.”

The blond continued to stare at you in silence. You were beginning to suspect this was a tactic of his just to make people uncomfortable.

“The other night,” he finally said as his red eyes pinned you where you sat. “That’s what you were going to say. The worst was probably the other night. When I crashed through your window.”

You knew there was no point in lying to him, so you didn’t.

“Yes.” You blushed and averted your gaze. “Like I said, I failed the entrance exam to the hero course in high school, and let’s just say becoming a doctor didn’t work out, either. I haven’t had much opportunity to use my quirk on things more serious than the occasional hangover or twisted ankle for my roommates in college, and since moving here I’ve mostly been dealing with things like arthritis or cataracts, the occasional fracture.”

Talking about your “achievements” with one of the best heroes in Japan was more than a little embarrassing, and you desperately wanted out of this conversation.

“D-Did you need to go to that meeting with Kirishima and the others?” you asked, even though it had been probably close to half an hour since Bakugo led you up here. “I don’t want to waste any more of your time.”

“I never go to that shit,” the explosive hero said, but his tone sounded strange, and when you glanced back at him, he was still staring at you, like he was trying to peel back all your layers. “How bad was it?”

“What?” You frowned at him.

“My injuries,” he clarified as his lips started to twist into their signature scowl. “Besides the ears, what did you heal? Where did all the blood come from?”

“O-Oh.” You cleared your throat as you thought back to that night, his blood burning through your palms, the taste of dust heavy on your tongue. “Well… you were kinda all banged up. Your arm was badly burned, I could see the bone in some places. I think you had some fractured ribs, too. But the b-blood came from your abdomen. When you crashed through the window, I think a part of the frame impaled you. It went straight through you, through organs and some major blood vessels. I, um, took it out before I patched you up. That, plus the glass everywhere, was how I tore up my hands, but they’re fine now, good as new.”

You held up your hands, palms out, as you laughed nervously again, but the hero just frowned at you.

“So, you felt it?” he asked. “The burn, the ribs, the stake through the gut, everything?”

For some reason, he almost sounded upset, leaning toward angry, and you blinked in confusion.

“Yes?” you hedged. “That’s how my quirk works… But really, I was so hopped up on adrenaline that night, I only felt it for a second before I just panicked and dumped all the energy I could into you. I was terrified you were going to die, and then the cops were going to find me over the dead body of one of the nation’s greatest heroes, with his blood coated up to my wrists. But, thankfully, you lived, and I’m not in prison, so wins all around.”

The pro hero pursed his lips as he studied you, still far too close for your liking, practically looming over you on the table, and his expression seemed to be caught halfway between anger and something else you couldn’t place.

Finally, he let out a snort and took a step back, and you felt like you could breathe again.

“So, you’re a masochist,” he said. “A masochist with a dirty mouth and a savior complex.”

“Hey!” you protested, the tips of your ears burning hot. “That’s… rude.”

“Rude, right, same thing.” He shrugged his massive shoulders before he was suddenly leaning into your personal space again, and the breath hitched in your lungs as his arm brushed the outside of yours. Then he was backing away, holding the bowl that had been behind you on the table.

He turned around and grabbed his own bowl, mug, and chopsticks, and then he starting moving toward the door.

“I’ve got patrol soon. Leave your coffee mug in the kitchen when you’re done, and try not to fall down any stairs while I’m gone. And you should switch your clothes over.”

You opened your mouth to reply, with what, you don’t know, but you were cut off by the washing machines starting to chime, one after the other.

“How did you…” You glanced back at the doorway just in time to see the blond’s smirk before he slipped into the hall.

“Later, Stitches.”

You listened to the sound of his footsteps walk into the room next door and heard him deposit the dishes in what sounded like a sink. Then his boots clomped back down the hallway until you heard the ding of the elevator, and only when you heard it close did you let out the breath you’d been holding.

What the fuck just happened?

You groaned and tried to rub the heat out of your cheeks as you hopped down off the table, but your whole body continued to feel flush as you pulled your clothes out of the washer and switched them to the dryers.

You stayed in the laundry room for another hour or so, waiting for the clothes to dry and then folding them on the table you sat on earlier.

You tried not to notice how long the blond’s caramel scent lingered in the air after he left, but it kept taunting you every time you flared out a piece of clothing to fold.

If the next few weeks were going to be this hard, you were fucking screwed.

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