#thought about doing something for the background but i think leaving it blank looks cool

[autistickaitovocaloid]

happy holistar day (eve) everybirdy

[snowyquokka]

MONSOON - L. MINHO

cw - mature themes MDNI, fem!reader, brothers best friend!Minho, swearing, angst, fluff (kinda?), mentions of alcohol, mutual pining, somewhat proof read, yada yada yada

wc - 3k

a.n - I FINISHED IT. im not sure how many parts there’ll be but here’s this for now :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Your heart is beating at the same frequency as the music blaring through your ears whilst making your way to the front door of the shitty little run down frat house. You’ve managed to throw back three rounds of vodka shots without puking and you were feeling a bit proud of yourself. But you have enough self respect to know when to call it quits. The cheap liquor did it’s intended purpose. That purpose being forgetting about someone.

Or not. 

You roll your eyes drowsily as you push your way through the door and onto the surprisingly somewhat empty porch. Plopping down on the top step, you pull out your phone before pressing the only emergency contact you have. 

“Aw you do care enough to call me,” Jisung’s grin is present in his soft voice.

“Mhm, yeah care- sure. Erm, busy?” There’s some muffled laughter in the background followed by some shuffling before he finally answers. 

“I- are you-“ he cuts himself off and whispers something incoherent, “Scale of one to ten?” Due to your recent lack of responsibility, as Jisung calls it, he’s set up a scale system to determine how wasted you are. 

One being buzzed, tipsy at best. 

Ten being, well, absolutely plastered.

“Eight and a h-half?” you hiccup. 

More muffled whispers are followed by, “What am I going to do with you.” and “Send me your location,”

-

After what seemed like an eternity of being surrounded by makeout sessions and college kids blowing chunks into the nearby hedges, a familiar car finally pulls up to the curb. 

You stand up, albeit a little too fast, but you still make it to your feet. The sound of a car door slamming rings in your ears, leading up to warm, gentle hands carefully lifting your arm over their shoulder in order to help get in the passenger side of the car. 

“Han- Minho?” Big brown eyes stare into yours as he leans over you and buckles your seatbelt. His expression’s blank, but it always is when he looks at you. 

Minho looks at you for another moment before shaking his head, as if he’s snapping himself out of a trance, and shuts the door.

-

It was only about halfway to your dorm that you realized you didn’t have your keys and your roommate was out for the night.

“Ughh.” You whine and Minho eyes you like you’re crazy. 

Maybe you are. 

Crazy for leaving your stuff at home.

Crazy for catching feelings for your brother's best friend.

Crazy for trying to drown him out of your thoughts with shitty tequila and obnoxious music. 

Crazy for actually thinking that you could distract yourself, let alone forget about him.

“Hello? Earth to her majesty.” he pokes your shoulder.

“Fuck off,” Please don’t stop talking to me.

“Ah, see I like bothering you too much for all that,” he glances from the road to your curled up form. Your ‘defensive pose’ as he likes to call it. It’s not the first time he’s seen you absolutely shitfaced.

“Wanna tell me why you’re throwing a fit over there?” 

“No key,” you mutter and press your head against the cool glass of the window, reveling in the way it soothes your massive migraine.

“No k- what are you talking about? You went to a frat party with no keys? Are you out of your fucking mind?” Minho lets out a cross between a scoff and a laugh, making you curl into yourself tighter. He sighs softly and prays that Jisung won’t kill him for taking you home with him.

“Why are you smiling like this is funny? None of this is the slightest bit funny. You could’ve been hurt and then I would-” he snaps his mouth shut and grips the steering wheel so tight his knuckles turn white.

-

There’s a small amount of pressure on your stomach when you wake up and the sound of light purring fills the room. You peek your eyes open cautiously until you spot the orange and white cat resting on your lower abdomen. 

“Soonie,” you hum with a smile. 

Wait. Soonie?

You sit up fast making Soonie dart off the bed in surprise. 

You’re in Minho’s bed. And not for the reason you would’ve preferred. 

You’re engulfed in his scent, tangled in his sheets, hair spread across his pillows. You wonder how many girls he’s had here before and mentally gag at the thought.

“Morning,” Minho nods as he sets a tray with a bottle of painkillers and some water on it next to you.

Memories of the night before flash throughout your head and your cheeks flush red with embarrassment while your hands run down your face.

You made a fool of yourself in front of Lee Minho. This is a new low for you, you think. 

But then again this isn’t his first time tending to you and your drunken stupor. 

Maybe not in his own home, and maybe without you knowing but he’s done it enough to be well versed with handling you.

You down the water along with one of the capsules and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, trying as hard as possible to avoid Minho’s gaze. 

“Better?” He whispers. 

No.

“Mhm, fine.” 

“Do you wanna talk about it now or-”

You climb out of his bed groggily, “I don’t want to talk about it at all, actually.” Minho does a double take and you realize that your dress slid up your leg and exposed almost the entirety of your legs, dangerously close to your core. 

He looks away long enough for you to fix yourself before clearing his throat. “That sucks because we’re going to.” His annoyance is obvious, the tips of his ears pink from being flustered. As much as you really really want to push his buttons, your head is pounding and you feel simply, well - gross.

“I uh- I went and bought you some stuff so you could go shower,” he says, almost as if he read your mind. He rubs the back of his neck nervously with a grimace.

You look at him with a confused expression, “Huh? I’m sorry, I must not have heard you correctly.” Minho rolls his eyes at you. “Don’t argue with me. Just go,” he points to the adjacent door which connects his room to the singular bathroom in his one bedroom dorm.

He pauses and tries to gather this words, “See, the thing is I didn’t really get a chance to get you clothes…” Lie. “So you could just, I don’t know, wear some of mine?” You stop mid walk and turn on your heel to see Minho with a hoodie and sweats in his grasp.“Please cooperate with me for once.” You sigh and hold out your hands for him to place his clothes in them. 

“This is the stupidest idea i think I’ve ever heard come out of your pea-sized brain,” you grumble and stalk into the bathroom unbeknownst to the massive smirk adorning Minho’s face.

-

You were right when you thought you’d look absurd. Of course you were, anyone could look at you and tell you wouldn’t fit in his clothes. You step out of the bathroom, freshly showered and teeth brushed.

You’re practically swimming in his shirt and you had to tie the drawstring on the sweatpants so tight that it was a literal struggle.

“You were in there for an hour.” He deadpans.

“How’d you know what shampoo I liked,” you ignore him and ask as he eyes you. His gaze drags up your body as you run your fingers through your damp hair.

“I don’t know. Lucky guess?” Minho shrugs it off and folds his arms over his chest.

“Okay then,” you roll your eyes and copy his stance. You two stay silent for a solid ten seconds until he finally speaks,

“This is ridiculous.” He says as he glares at you.

“If anyone’s ridiculous it’s you.” 

“Me? You’re the one being an ungrateful brat,” he steps closer to you until you’re face to face, “I’m the one who came to your rescue. I could’ve told Jisung no, could’ve said I had better things to do than save you from yourself.”

You shake your head, “Then why didn’t you? I’m obviously just a bother to you, aren’t I? A burden that you can’t wait to be freed of.”

Minho furrows his brows, “Bullshit. That’s complete and utter bullshit and you know it.” 

You inch closer to him so your chests are pressed against one another. “Do I, Minho? Because it seems like you only enjoy being a dick to me,” your hands curl into fists at your sides. Never in the four years you’ve know him would you have ever expected to have an actual argument with him. Usually it’s all meaningless jabs at each other, but right now you can tell that it’s more than that.

Minho’s eyes search yours as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip. “Don’t fucking do that,” his voice comes out in a harsh whisper. 

“Do what?” 

“Act like the fucking victim of the situation you put yourself in,” His expression has grown agitated which only pisses you off to no end. You decide you’ve had enough and turn away from him to collect your stuff. “What are you doing?” 

“I am going to text my roommate and she’s going to take me home.” You don’t bother looking at him as you speak, grabbing your phone off of the nightstand and typing out a ‘send help’ message to your roommate. Before you could send it though Minho has yanked your phone out of your hands. “Seriously?” You huff. He holds it above his head as you poorly attempt to reach for it.

“No. Until you can have an adult conversation with me you aren’t leaving.” 

“What, are you gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?” You realize that was the wrong thing to say when a smug smirk tugs at Minho’s lips.

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?” Your breath catches in your throat as you fall dead silent. You’re still leaning against him, using him as leverage to get your phone. “Cat got your tongue? Never thought I’d see the day where you’d fail to find a snarky response. Always need to have the last word, don’t you.”

Your brain is so fuzzy, a mix of emotions jumbling your thoughts around. You slowly stand flat and remove your hands from his arms with palms on fire from the contact with his bare skin. 

“You’re a dick.” You say while you take a few steps away from him.

“So you’ve said.” Minho stares at you with ice in his gaze. He slides your phone in the pocket of his hoodie and folds his arms over his chest. “You can go when you tell me why you’re doing it.”

“Doing what?” You say though you know exactly what he’s talking about.

“You are quite literally self destructing. Why?” He narrows his eyes at you, waiting for you to explain yourself. Unfortunately for him, it’s going to take more effort than that to get you to spill.

“That’s none of your business. Now give me back my phone, I want to go home.”

“No. I’m not just going to sit back and watch my best friend’s sister practically kill herself over something that is probably meaningless.” You keep backing up as he walks towards you until you collide with the wall behind you. 

How cliche.

“Just tell me so we can move on with our lives. But just so you know, I will not hesitate to keep you here as long as I have to until you help me understand why you’re acting so stupid when we both know that you’re far from it.”

Minho leans in closer, invading your space and allowing himself to be as close to you as he’ll ever be able to. He cares about you more than he cares about himself. His best friend’s little sister. At this point he’s a walking romance book trope. 

“It’s nothing I’m fi-” Before you can utter another word Minho has his index finger pressed against your lips and an eyebrow raised. 

“I’m going to give you another chance to rethink your words. Choose carefully.” You roll your eyes, prompting him to drop his hand.

“I’m trying to get over something.” You look down at your hands as you refuse to make eye contact. 

“Something or someone?” You sink back against the wall. 

You weigh your options: you could either lie to him, or you could confess and hope that you don’t die of embarrassment when he rejects you. 

“Someone.” When you finally look up at him you’re surprised to see his boba eyes clouded with - jealousy? No, you’ve got to be imagining it. There’s no way. 

“Who?” Are you imagining it?

“Just..someone.” Minho shakes his head as if saying ‘not good enough.’ But you’re not backing down that easily, this is just too good. So you do the next best thing: you mess with him.

“It’s someone from school..?” you wince, the statement coming out as more of a question. 

Minho’s eyes narrow and he finally steps out of your way. He stares at you dumbfounded before pulling your phone out of his pocket and holding it out to you. As you reach for it your fingers graze his and you’re reminded of the situation you’ve put yourself in. 

“Like I said, meaningless.” Minho’s voice pulls you out of the endless rabbit hole that is your stupid, insecure brain. 

All of this for nothing, he thinks. This whole time he was dumb enough to believe that you had feelings for him but instead you were treating it like a joke.

“Whatever, come on.”

-

Two weeks have passed since you woke up at Minho’s place. Two weeks have passed since you came home trying to determine if you were being delusional or if he actually got jealous of the idea that you were thinking about someone else. 

But hey, even if he didn’t actually feel that way you figure it’d be fun to play with him. 

Why not? It’s all harmless anyway. What could possibly go wrong?

Luckily for you he’s supposed to be at Jisung’s place, where you happen to have just made a surprise appearance at. Your top tier excuse? There’s family drama that you want to gossip about with him. 

Now you’ve finally comprised a seemingly fool proof plan to get a reaction out of Minho. You threw on his hoodie and a pair of shorts before leaving the house. 

To your delight when the door opens to reveal Minho sitting on the couch he looks like his eyes are about to pop out of his head. He can’t believe you even kept it, let alone willingly wore it. He wonders if it still smells like him or if you washed it, ridding it of any traces of himself.

“Hi, Sungie,” you pull your brother into a hug and make eye contact with Minho over Jisung’s shoulder. 

“Why are you- I mean don’t get me wrong, I love it when you visit but like…you never do.” Jisung pulls back and gives you a skeptical look, preparing himself for whatever you’re about to ask him for. 

“You never invite me,” you pout and slip past him into the living room. “Did you hear about auntie?” You say, turning to Minho before continuing, “You remember her, right? The one with all the cats, tried to get you to take them all? Yeah, you remember.” You smile before sitting next to him on the couch. Meanwhile Jisung - completely ignoring your babbling - has moved into the kitchen to make you a cup of tea, just like any other time you’ve shown up at his place unannounced.

Once you can tell that he’s out of earshot you look at the boy next to you who is painfully obvious in trying not to look at the exposed skin right underneath where his oversized hoodie, that could be classified as a dress on you, stops.

You look down at your body with an amused pout, “What’s the matter?”

Just as Minho was about to open his mouth your brother comes in with your tea, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. 

You thank him before crossing your legs and sinking backwards into the couch. You play with the end of your sleeve which goes an inch or two past the tips of your fingers as you wait for someone to speak.

Just as you thought you’d be playing the quiet game for the next three hours Minho answers your silent prayers.

“So, I decided to take a BDSM test,” he says just as you took a sip of tea, you almost choke on it but manage to cover it with a cough.

Jisung’s complaining is drowned out by the words that have been engraved in your brain for the past two weeks,

“What. You gonna hold me hostage? Tie me up?”

“You’d like that too much. Wouldn’t you, princess?” 

Touché, you think. This little game has gotten ten times more interesting.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

tags: @skzstarnet @godslino @seungseung-minmin @myseungsunglove @azuna-sz @solisyeah 

[star-going-supernova]

a Gregory and Evan sickfic would be so cool!

I also was thinking about your college au, and since you established how much they look alike, what about another au (doesnt have to be an au of your au, just a new universe) where they meet at the same age at the same timeline, but they ARE actually brothers/related? a fun little long lost family moment. would also be interesting depending on how their relationship is! evan would either feel validated for thinking of Gregory as family, or maybe they're basically strangers and they bond alongside that background knowledge. thank you💜=)

I do have a sick fic of sorts in mind for the college AU, so we’ll hopefully see that eventually too! But oh man, how have I not done a classic “twins separated at birth who find each other later in life” story yet? This is an AU of that college AU, just with bio twins Gregory and Evan! 

Is This a First Meeting or a Reunion?

When Evan got his room assignment and received the name and email of his future roommate, he curled up on his bed and ignored it. He didn’t want to talk to this stranger, and he hoped they felt similarly and would allow him the luxury of not paying them any mind. He knew it was necessary, knew that roommates actually needed to coordinate at least a little on who would bring what so they didn’t all show up with a mini fridge. Not that Evan would; he didn’t have the money for a mini fridge. 

But in the few months since leaving the Afton house for good, his already weak social skills had deteriorated further. He tried to imagine what he’d say to the person he’d be living with for an entire school year, but his mind was blank.

He wallowed in anxiety for all of two minutes, when his secondhand laptop pinged with a new email. 

Sitting up from his fetal position, Evan squinted at the screen. It was… it was his future roommate. Of course he wouldn’t be given even a little bit of a reprieve before having to deal with this. 

He opened the email. 

It began with a keysmash, and it only got more incomprehensible from there. 

• • •

Three days later, Evan gingerly slid into a seat at the back of the cafe he’d chosen to meet Gregory in. His mind was still tumbling over itself in a confused sort of distress. He alternated between watching the door and fiddling with his phone on the table. 

He had a brother. A twin. He wasn’t actually related to the Aftons. His twin had been looking for him for months, but Evan had done such a good job of disappearing that there’d been no trail to follow. His twin had recognized his name on the roommate assignment email, obviously, and hadn’t been able to believe his crazy luck. 

Or so Gregory claimed. Evan didn’t know if he believed it yet, or if he even wanted to. He was wary, nervous of this total stranger who claimed he’d been looking for Evan in the hopes of meeting him. It had creepy stalker written all over it. Or worst of all, it could be some plot for his parents to find him.

It seemed unlikely, but Evan had no way of knowing how they’d reacted to him leaving. Maybe they were furious about losing their control over him and wanted to reassert it. 

And he hadn’t worked so hard on getting out to lose his freedom now.

“Evan?” he heard from beside him, startling him from his thoughts. He looked up in a panic, and immediately, surprise and something almost like awe replaced the worst of his nerves. 

The teenage boy standing before him was nearly identical to Evan himself. Other than slight differences in their hair, and a scar curving over the other boy’s cheek instead of the one across Evan’s forehead, they would have been indistinguishable. 

“Whoa,” he breathed, scanning over the boy’s band t-shirt and frayed shorts. A different sort of messy from Evan’s rumpled button-down and faded jeans. “Um. Hi. Gregory, right?”

“Yep,” his probably actual twin said, beaming with happiness. Evan had never been so happy that he nearly shone with it. Gregory bounced excitedly into the booth seat across from Evan and stuck his hand out over the table. “You have no idea how nice it is to finally meet you, Evan.” 

He shook Gregory’s hand in a daze. “Wha—why?”

“I’ve always known I was adopted,” Gregory replied, casual as anything, like Evan’s world wasn’t still flipping end over end with this new knowledge (he’d yet to decide if it was good or bad knowledge). “And my parents knew I had a twin, but we were separated after he got adopted by people who just wanted one kid. The agency only gave us your name and stuff when I—we—turned eighteen.” Gregory grinned, his eyes so alive and sparkling and warm that Evan felt hollow in comparison. “But it was like trying to find a ghost! You absolutely vanished, man, and it was driving me crazy! I mean, I totally can’t blame you—your parents are psychos, if you don’t mind me saying.” 

And for some reason, having this human embodiment of the sun confirm that the Aftons sucked and that he agreed with Evan’s decision to leave and cut all contact made Evan burst into relieved, overwhelmed, grateful tears. 

He heard Gregory ask him if he was okay, and he failed to answer with anything approaching coherent or reassuring. And then suddenly a body was pressing against his, shoulder to shoulder, knees knocking, and an arm went around the back of his neck and tugged and—

Evan collapsed against Gregory without care that he was a stranger or that he’d dropped a total bombshell on Evan only three days ago. For the first time in Evan’s life, someone didn’t mock him for crying and instead went straight to the most unselfish, genuine form of comfort possible. 

Gregory hugged him, rubbing his upper arm, and didn’t tell him to stop being so embarrassing or childish or sensitive. Instead, Evan heard him quietly ask a passing waitress for some tissues and also two cups of hot chocolate with extra marshmallows. 

This was his brother, his twin. His future college roommate. 

And maybe—perhaps even sooner rather than later, given his first impression of Gregory—he would be Evan’s new family too. 

[kalmiaphlox]

✨Writing Interview Tag Game✨

Thank you @pinkberrytea and @preciouslittlebhaalbae for the tags 💕

When did you start writing?

I would write creatively throughout middle school and that was it for the most part. For my first long fic that was planned out and kept up with to completion, I started writing in December 2023 and never stopped. It was like a dam had been broken!

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I am a horror lover. Movies, books, art, etc I love all horror. I would love to be able to write a horror story, but the things I make up in my mind don't feel all that scary/spooky so I don't think I could translate it well.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

I don't think so? I just write the way I want to read. I don't think its anything special, my writing is just word vomit that I feel happy with.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I kinda just write wherever when the mood strikes. Currently I am sitting on my couch with Northernlion playing Slay the Spire on youtube, I like background noise of any kind, doesn't even have to be music. I write on my phone a lot (a regrettable choice) because I like to write anywhere like work or the store if I need to jot something down.

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Lots of daydreaming and driving in the car gives me my best ideas (I think), not sure why it gets my brain going, but it just does. I have also been inspired by art and I put credit for those works in my chapters when they do inspire something.

Sometimes reading fics would also get ideas flowing because it makes me want to write again (I'm not taking ideas from other fics), but I have barely been reading recently.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Maybe for my main fic? I think something that comes up a lot is not letting the past control your future for a lot of my characters. Also realizing family can be anyone, as long as you let them.

What is your reason for writing?

Mostly just for fun. I felt like I had a good story to tell so I wrote it down, regardless of whether other people like it or not. At the end of the day, this is for me.

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I like all my comments in general and I go back and reread them occasionally 💕 Some that really stick with me are the ones where people make suggestions or even question things. There have been comments that made me change entire outcomes because someone left a comment that made me rethink how a character was acting or how an event unfolds.

Also anytime anyone says they have reread my fic just blows me away. It's such an honor but I also want to ask "Why?" because that shit is long and so freaking messy lol

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

I don't know, I'm just a person. I hope my readers think they can ask me any questions about anything and that them just taking time out of their day to read my word vomit is so cool and I love every single one of those goobers. Readers are the best. Everyone likes to say they only do it for themselves, but any engagement really keeps us writers going.

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

Maybe dialogue and humor. It's hard to say honestly.

How do you feel about your own writing?

I waffle between thinking I write some good shit and then also hating every single thing and how on earth do people read my garbage lmao.

I know I don't use proper sentence structure and grammar, but if I start following all those rules, it won't be fun for me anymore.

I am not very descriptive in my writing specifically because my brain likes to fill in the blanks with limited descriptions. I have things look certain ways in my head, but I like to leave a lot of it up to internal interpretation for other people. I also skim a lot when descriptions get too long while I'm reading so I just try to write the way I want to read something. It's probably boring but at this point, I really don't care, I aint changing.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Purely for myself. My first fic, I had over 100k words already written before I even thought about posting it for others. I may or may not be working on a sequel to my fic, but who knows if I'll ever post it lol

I hope this is all understandable. I am extremely hungover 😅

tagging my writer pals if you would like to answer any of these! @teamdilf, @busy-baker, @spagyricqueen, @dabbles-in-drabbles, @ofsilentthings

[signalwatch]

Godzilla (2014)

Watched:  11/04/2023

Format:  BluRay

Viewing:  Second, I think

Director:  Gareth Edwards

In a couple of weeks, Apple+ is dropping their decade-spanning, genre-mixing show about the Monarch organization, which is the group that.... something something.... in a world of giant beasties, based on Godzilla (2014) and the series of attached movies.  I've heard where in the movie timeline the show takes place - just after this movie, and it had been a while, so I finally rewatched the first of the Monsterverse films to remind myself what the hell happens in the flick.

I remember going into Godzilla (2014) with some trepidation.  The last American-made Godzilla movie I'd seen was the 1998 trainwreck that just piled on all the worst habits of 1990's-era blockbuster entertainment, and then curb-stomped you with them.*

The trailers for the 2014 edition certainly looked cool, but the fact is that at the time of the film's release, Hollywood was doing this thing where they would come up with cool stuff for trailers and then maybe make a movie that tied those scenes and lines together.  

It was promising a movie for all-ages, including adults - casting thinking-person's stars like Bryan Cranston, Juliet Binoche, Ken Watanabe, David Strathairn and Sally Hawkins (a curious trend that has continued through Godzilla v. Kong with Rebecca Hall as our lead).  So it was literally *buying* gravitas with the casting choices.  Which was maybe needed after the 1998 debacle.  

Leaving the movie, I remember a vague sense of disappointment, but wasn't blogging at the time, so there's no record of what I was thinking.  In the 9 years since I've re-watched the movie, I'd kind of forgotten what the deal was.  Certainly I remembered them bumping off Binoche in the film's first five minutes, and that Cranston similarly exits the film in the first act, when I thought he was going to be our lead.  

Instead, we are handed Aaron Taylor-Johnson in a thankless, vague and personality-free role of "Ford Brody" - a US soldier of some sort (I'm pretty sure I heard him say "navy" at some point, but that seemed weird) who specializes in defusing bombs.  He's supposedly partnered with Elizabeth Olsen as his wife, Elle, but the two get maybe three minutes together in the whole film - a film that depends entirely on you caring about Ford's return to his family (why he leaves actually makes zero sense, but whatever).  At no point will the audience care about this other than "oh, I guess that's why he's there/ doing that".  

The problem with all that all-star casting is that in 2014, neither Olsen nor Taylor-Johnson were the people many of us showed up to see.  So when those stars you came to see start getting bumped off, or get relegated to exposition-spouting background characters (sorry, Sally Hawkins), you aren't really sure why you're supposed to be following the blank-space-of a character in a motorcycle jacket that is Taylor-Johnson's character.  You'll want to spend time with literally everyone else on screen.

However, the entire movie is set up - much to my surprise the first time - to be Ford's story.  We're intended to find out *why* he's invested in the events, and - because this is an American movie - has a deeply personal stake in what is happening.  Which means the first twenty minutes could possibly be lopped off the film and conveyed via two or three lines of dialog.  But, instead, we're shown everything, which sets up the audience to care about and to wish to follow entirely the wrong characters.  

Once we're in 2014, fortunately, the movie fates place Ford just right in the world, in a series of increasingly unlikely events, to be exactly where he needs to be at any given time to be a part of the movie's globetrotting events.  Also, not because he did any work, but happened to overhear something, he's the person with the required knowledge at least once.  And we're told he apparently set up a nuclear weapon, but that happened off-screen?

This is as good a segue as any to talk about how you can cast the best actors, get cool-as-hell FX departments, etc...  but this is, in fact, a very, very badly written movie. 

The scenes that do work are very much written to be teaser trailers and worked backward into the movie.  The halo jumping sequence is absolute, illogical nonsense, but looks cool as hell, and may have been what was pitched to execs.  Godzilla coming onto the beach in Honolulu, same.  But they aren't cohesive as a story, and there's no real characters to get invested in to make you care if the monsters destroy the world or not.

Retro-engineering the movie, given what we know now about Legendary's plans, this is really just all set-up for getting an audience invested in the world that we now refer to as The Monsterverse.  The movie cares more about sequels than itself - a problem with a lot of media in a post-Lost world, and misunderstanding how Marvel was working.  It wants us to understand that there's an expert agency that looks into Godzilla-type happenings, and - working with the military?  sometimes? - takes care of the issues, but is really mostly standing around being very concerned, while also hiding the fact that Godzillas exist.  Which seems like a very tall order, indeed.

I'll be honest, I had no memory of Monarch by the the time I saw the sequel, so excellent job, my dudes.  

From a story perspective, it's the kind of movie where we find out that the people who have spent 15 years, every day, studying the monster who has taken over a nuclear power plant have somehow learned nothing, pondered nothing, done no basic science, and so it is that Ford Brody has all the info they could ever need as person who showed up on the scene 4 hours ago (and you will also wonder why they didn't just hire Cranston).  It's the kind of movie that says "we evacuated a whole small city by pretending there was a nuclear disaster, but we didn't kill the monster in the middle of the evacuated area because we thought that would actually radiate the area everyone already was not living in."  Which... amazing logic.

The most baffling decision by the movie is that it's absolutely, deeply against actually caring about why you bought your ticket (to see Godzilla).  There are multiple battles between Godzilla and the stupid stink-bug looking MUTOs, and fuck you if you would have liked to have seen those, because this movie is convinced that's like putting the camera on the clouds for several minutes in a movie about people surviving a storm.  

But it is not.  Our monsters are the main event.  I don't care if it's the Rockettes performing while firing muskets into the air while the ghost of George Washington tap dances around - my eyes is going to be drawn to the behemoths destroying city blocks by turning around.  

What happened in Hawaii?  We had minutes of build up featuring huge set-pieces and POV characters.  We get our first glimpses of G himself and his incredibly fat ankles.  But when the fight kicks in, it's shown as maybe three shots on a 13" TV in other scenes in Elizabeth Olsen's apartment.  

You want to see the rampage through Vegas?  Eat my butt.  We're showing the aftermath.

You want to see the monsters actually engaging in San Francisco?  You're just a fool for thinking that will happen.  We will show the humans doing their shit, and cut away just as the monsters engage time and time again.  And when we DO finally show it, it will be so dark, you'll be wondering if something went wrong with how you're viewing the movie.

Like, I don't understand how one decides that they're making a movie about gigantic monsters fighting and thinks what we want to see is soldiers planning a parachute jump, not "in addition to" but "instead of" monster fights.  

Consequently, the movie is weirdly boring.  We're just going from place to place, being denied better characters and dialog while gesturing at who they cast.

I've seen, I believe, all but two Godzilla films (three if you count the one that hasn't been released yet), and I can tell you, no matter how goofy or dumb most of these movies are, they know why you paid your dollars for a seat.  So they may be a confusing mess of sub-plots, but they WILL show you Godzilla and an enemy or three mixing it up for long stretches.  And they do not think you only need to see glimpses of the monster fights in the background as someone ties their shoes in the foreground.

I may think Skull Island is an affront to the legacy of King Kong, but no one is going to call that movie boring or suggest it under delivers on crazy monster stuff.  So someone figured this out.

What I don't get is why they went with *this* design for Godzilla.  Why the stumpy avocado look?  Look, nothing was going to look worse than the 1998 trainwreck, so by that measure, it's an improvement.  My assumption is that Toho doesn't want for US-made Godzilla to look like their Godzilla, but I have no evidence that's true.  What I generally believe is that there is science that talks about how animals would be shaped if they scaled up, and the larger an animal gets, the more it has to be shaped wider rather than taller - ie: you get a pyramid at some point.  And this is that.  But, my guys, this is about an amphibious monster king who shoots atomic rays from his tummy out his mouth, so maybe we go for "cool" instead of "will please my Bio 301 TA".  

I guess kids like it, because those toys do move, but I gotta say, I think the Final Wars Godzilla looked rad as hell and would have been nice to see as a CGI adaptation.  It's not really til they made adjustments to Avocadozilla in Gozilla v Kong that I was onboard with this design.

But, maybe the greatest bit to make you wonder what the hell was going on at Legendary when making this movie occurs in the he final moments. 

After Godzilla has managed to help level Honolulu and most of San Francisco, he needs a nap, and takes one in the middle of the city, waiting a couple of days before he wakes up again, fresh as a daisy.  As he's leaving, the TV screens have "Godzilla, King of the Monsters:  Our Savior?" on the chyron.

That's like.... one day you're at home and two mountain lions and a bear enter your home, destroying pretty much everything you own and killing your family dog.  The bear manages to finish off the mountain lions and then naps for a bit on your couch.  I really don't think you're looking at that bear and thinking "wow, he really did it.  He really helped me out."

I haven't even got into how the 25-story-tall monsters keep sneaking around silently and keep surprising our heroes.  Nor why the answer of the military to 25 story monsters is "send in foot soldiers with machine guns" instead of "pound these things with our gigantic cannons mounted on battleships that can hit a target miles away".  

The movie finally, finally remembers in the last ten minutes that you can do more with a character in a movie than have them either deliver information or look bewildered when we see Ford decide "if Godzilla can go above and beyond, so, too, can I!" using, like, legit film language.  The moment is the only one to convey that anyone would see Godzilla as anything other than a pants-dumping terror instigator, so it does help the point of "our hero?" but it's also entirely singular to the experience of Ford and like 2 other people.

When given an opportunity for real, human moments - like Ford being reunited with his child - we just don't show it.  It happens off screen, and that may be the most telling moment for how this movie sees character, story, emotional beats, etc...  We don't care.  All we care about is making sure the audience has seen Godzilla, knows he's there to fight monsters, monsters don't give a shit about humans, and that Monarch is there to look concerned and wear their IDs on lanyards when the monsters show up.

It's just such a weird movie.  

One could easily say "you dismiss all of the nonsense in the Japanese films" - but, two things.  (1) It's largely arguable that the movies after 1954 are for pre-teens, and not pulling in big-name stars to sell us on the idea that this is a movie is something not dumb.  And (2) Their storylines may be nonsense, but the plots, no matter how insane, have an internal logic that holds.  This movie can't even do that.  Nothing really makes any sense, it all just keeps unfolding and hoping you don't notice "hey, this is dumb as hell".  Unfortunately, that requires actually seeing the monsters, to which this movie stands in violent opposition.

What do I like?  

Well, it's nice to see the talent assembled in front of the camera, I guess.  I wish they'd been given literally anything to do but exposit.  The effects are ok, and the final monster fight - what you can see of it - is nicely framed in bits like a classic Godzilla film, pulling back to let you see how tiny the city is against the creatures.  I don't mind the insertion of Monarch into the movie as a concept - I wish they'd explained in the slightest what they were, why and what they hoped to do.  It's a nice hardware porn movie, with jets, helicopters, battleships, etc...  It's nice to see a pre-super-famous Elizabeth Olsen.  She's as good as one could hope for given her five lines in the movie.  

But for the most part, the movie was pretty much how I remembered.  

Kids seemed to like it, and everyone has done well selling the toys (which may also be why the Godzilla in this movie looks how it does, so Bandai doesn't get a cut).  But kids don't give a shit who Juliet Binoche and Ken Watanabe are, so.  For the teen to 20-somethings, it did fine, but I was surprised it launched a franchise.  There's a lot about movies and budgets and who gets paid that I don't understand.  But I don't know anyone who *loves* this movie.  It just kind of exists.  

To their credit, these movies do seem to be getting better with each movie, but what a weird way to workshop concepts already sorted out by our friends in Japan.

*I saw the movie twice in theaters at the time - once to see it, and a second time to take my brother so he could see the awfulness with his own eyes

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

A Family Affair

Slasher AU CannibalFamily!EraserMicxReader

We’re going with the “strange family that lives outside of a small town” trope. After a few deliveries to the Aizawa household you get pulled in to an affair you never wanted to be a part of. 

Spooky season is upon us and I’ve already begun watching too many horror movies.  This fic will definitely be a two parter

Super Dark Content Warning!!! Literally do not read if you have any reservation and definitely no minors!

TW: cannibal themes, mentions of murder, mentions of corpse mutilation, kidnapping, unhealthy relationships

Part 2 is gonna include more of this and the smut

Growing up you were grateful for living in a small town. You didn't really relate to the coming-of-age stories told in the movies where the small town girl runs off to the big city for a whirlwind romance and a chance at some "big break." To you, small town life was more picturesque than any overcrowded city. You knew your neighbors, and watched a lot of their families grow and change throughout the years. A small town allows you to become a regular at several businesses, including the coffee shop and your favorite diner downtown. Going away to college was tough even though you didn't go far. The nearest city - a little over 40 miles away - had a great college with a program you were really interested in pursuing.

You went home every break and picked up delivery jobs at one of the local restaurants. It was winter break of your last year in college when you first delivered to the Aizawa residence. In all your years at the restaurant they never ordered delivery, one of the two men would always place an order for pick up. The thing about small town stereotypes is that small towns tend to self-impose said stereotypes. The Aizawa's were that family. The one that everyone whispered when they came to town and children would tell horror stories about during Halloween. They were the weird family that lived just past the outskirts of town.

You weren't entirely sure what either of the two men did. Everyone speculated that Mr. Aizawa was some sort of mountain-man-feral type and maybe did some mechanic work for the folks that tend to live in between towns. His husband, Mr. Yamada seemed like the stay at home trophy husband but you heard he did some sort of conspiracy podcast. They had children - reportedly, but no one has really met them - and other family members that live similarly further out into the middle of nowhere. The drive was absurdly long but they were loyal customers and the owners didn't want to turn their request down. Your boss handed you a chunk of bills to fill up your tank before heading out. That's no place you'd want to get stranded, he told you.

The paved road got worse the further you got from town. Forty-five minutes later you were pulling down the dirt road that led to the illuminated Aizawa home. A wall of cold air slammed in to you when you opened your car door and you grumbled about leaving your gloves at home. There was no doorbell, so knocked and did that awkward please-don't-let-me-freeze dance while you waited. Two unfamiliar faces opened the door, an apathetic looking teen and an adorable little girl. Must be their children. The older one called out for his dad before taking one of the bags you held and disappearing into the home. You looked down awkwardly and wave at the girl. She smiled shyly and reached out for the other bag.

"Are you sure?" You asked her, "It's a little heavy."

She nodded.

"Okay, but use two hands," You passed her the bag. "Oh jeez, you're strong. Don't tell your brother, but I think this is the heavier bag."

You smiled when she giggled and ran off.

Mr. Aizawa appeared in the door, "How much do we owe?"

He was just as terrifying up close and for a split second your mind went blank while your basic instincts were begging you go back to the car. He raised an eyebrow at you, looking irritated at your falter.

"Uh - forty-two."

He pulled counted out a chunk of bills and then you were off. You didn't even count the amount until you parked. Forty-two with a forty-dollar tip. They may be odd but apparently they're loaded. You didn't think much of it until the following week when you were heading back to their house with another delivery. You wished that they would order earlier but at least you could hope for another generous tip. You were taken aback when the little girl answered the door by herself, jumping up and down with excitement.

Was she old enough to answer the door by herself?

"Papa," She yelled. "The lady is here!"

She turned her attention back to you with a huge grin, "Shinsou got sore that you told me I'm the stronger one."

Before you could respond to her the other man, Mr. Yamada, bounced around the corner, "Eri, what have we told you about the door? Oh no, you must be freezing come stand inside while I go get your payment. Forty-two right?"

You wanted to protest, feeling uneasy in their entryway but the little girl tugged you by the delivery bags. So you stood there quietly while she ran back in forth so she could unload the delivery for you. Shinsou peered around the corner so you gave a small wave. Then it was just you and Eri once again. In the background you could hear Yamada asking his husband where the wallet went.

"I like your shirt," You smiled, trying to fill the silence.

"I wanted a Pegasus shirt but this was the only one my daddy could find."

"Well I think unicorns are pretty cool too."

You use to babysit for some of the families in town, no part of you could imagine doing that all the way out here.

The blonde rejoined you, giving you another lush payment. You heard the little girl whine about you leaving so quickly until her father appeased her by saying you'd be back.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way; but you were back like clockwork the next week with their usual delivery. Once again you were brought inside while they went to get your payment. But on your fourth and what should have been your final delivery of the winter break you noticed something was off when you parked. Their truck was missing from its usual spot. Strange but they probably just moved it somewhere else on the property. You had become accustom Eri running to answer the door and telling you wait for her parents in the entrance of the house. You became suspicious after she had run back and forth to take the food to the kitchen.

"Eri, where are your parents? Or Shinsou?"

The little girl's response was nonchalant, "They had to go out, one of our cattle got out. But they gave me the money."

You stuffed the money into your jacket; payment was the issue here. In the back of your mind you though about how you never saw any cattle on your deliveries. A child her age shouldn’t be left alone.

"Oh, well, can I hang out with you while we wait for them to come back?"

The little girl lit up as she pulled you to the living room. There was a kid's movie playing on the TV and she had a coloring book out. Eri divide up her crayons and tore out a page for you to join her. You kept looking to the window, waiting for the truck to pull up.

Suddenly there was banging at the door, which elicited a cry from Eri. You reached into your pocket only finding the crumpled bills. Shit, your stomach dropped. You left your phone in your car. After all, this was just supposed to be a quick delivery. The noise stopped, only for a moment, before resuming.

"Eri, sweetie," You whispered to the stunned little girl. "Do your parents have a phone here?"

She shook her head.

A man’s voice tore through the door, "Let me in dammit, you have to let me in before they come back."

You held your finger to your lip, and Eri nodded, repeating the gesture. The living room light was on and you realized that if he came to the side of the house you'd be seen through the window, but turning out the light would draw attention. Maybe he was bluffing, maybe he didn't know if anyone was inside and turning off the light would signal your presence. You pointed to the kitchen, where the lights were off and the two of you tip toed to the safety of darkness.

"Eri, honey, can you go sit in the pantry for me and be really, really quiet? I'll be right out here and don't come out until I come to get you okay?"

She looked hesitant and tearful but you were surprised at her level of composure for a kid. Finally she complied. Once the pantry door was closed you began rummaging through the drawers, looking for something that could inflict the most damage. A meat tenderizer could work. The banging continued and you swore you hear wood beginning to splinter. Your grip tightened with every bang. Finally the door gave way and a man stumbled through the splintered wood. He stopped when he saw you holding the cleaver.

He was dirty, without shoes or a shirt and his skin was red from the cold.

You hoped your voice wouldn’t crack, "You need to leave-"

"Monsters, monsters," he blabbed. "They're gonna come back and we gotta go."

You decided to bluff, "Get out of here, I already called the cops."

"Good, good, good," He mumbled, “but we still gotta go. NOW."

There was one step forward from him, one step back from you.

"If you come near me, I'll make sure you don't get up," You warned. At the very least you had to keep him away from Eri. Even if that was all you could do.

There was a desperate look in his eyes; they darted from you to the keys hooked to your jeans, then back to the keys. Finally he smiled, "You have a car, man that's perfect. Listen I won't hurt you but we need to get in your damn car, now."

Sounds like something someone who wants to hurt me would say, you thought. Apparently you took too long to respond, the man lunged toward you and you tried to swing the meat tenderizer. The tool connected with his shoulder and he howled out in pain but still managed to wrestle you to the ground. The two of you struggled with each other and the man was yelling that you'd die if you didn't listen to him. You landed a weak hit to his jaw, splitting his lip. You even tried biting at him but he was persistent and struggling to get your keys. You were telling him he could have them that he just needed to let you go but he wasn't listening to you. Managing to grab his ear you had a flashback to the self-defense seminar you had to take in college, it should be easy to rip a human ear. So you pulled. Blood began to flow from the wound down his face and on to you. He got you off him before you got the whole ear by delivering a blow to your stomach. The air rushed from your body, is this what it means to get the wind knocked out of you?

There was a loud noise and fog lights flooded through the broken door. Then saw Shinsou and Aizawa pulling the man off you. You pushed yourself and back, clutching at your stomach. Your cheeks were wet. Were you crying or was that blood on your face? Probably both.

The trio wrangled the man outside where you heard more struggling, fighting, and groaning.

Eri.  You managed your way to the kitchen but realized you were covered in blood. Not wanting to traumatize the little girl any further you spoke through the door.

"Eri, can you stay there a little bit longer?"

"Can't I come out? I heard my daddies," She cried, tugging at your heartstrings.

"Not yet, okay? They're here and everything's okay, I'm gonna have them come get you okay?"

Thankfully, the door didn't open. As you shuffled toward the front door Mr. Yamada entered, wiping specks of blood off him.

You were shocked when he pulled you into a hug, "You're okay. Sho and Shinsou got everything under control. Where is Eri?"

You told him about her hiding spot and he sighed in relief and rushed to her.

The other two returned with bloodied knuckles that made your stomach churn.

"Yamada," The mountain man called, with his eyes scanning the home.

"Don't worry, Sho, I got Eri. She's fine. Our delivery girl is okay, she's got some bumps and bruises but she made the other guy look worse."

Aizawa ushered you to the couch, expecting your legs to give out at any moment.

"We need to call the police," You finally spoke.

Aizawa assured you he did. They were 45 minutes out but they'd work on getting here faster. Yamada brewed you a cup of tea, “for while we wait.” They finally calmed Eri down and Shinsou took her upstairs to get ready for bed. It felt weird for them to return to mundane evening routines so quickly after all that chaos, but maybe you were just the odd one out. Close to an hour later you were still waiting for the police to show up. Your tea was finished long ago and your nerves had calmed. You were even having trouble keeping your eyes open.

"You think they're almost here, babe" The blonde wondered, draping a throw blanket around your shoulders. "I'm sure she wants to this day to be over with."

---

It was still dark when you woke up. The blonde was fast asleep on the recliner next to you. The police must have come by now but there was no way you slept through the visit. Anxiety from earlier made it’s way back in to your chest. The clock read 4am; had they even called the police. All of the childhood rumors you heard came flooding back and you exited the house as quietly as you could, not realizing your keys were no longer with you.

When you made it outside you noticed dried blood on the ground, trailing toward what you assumed was their barn or storage shed. You were entranced. Looking back to the house, no one was awake; there was no movement, no light, just quiet. You shouldn’t follow the bloody trail, you shouldn't go near the shed; but your body moved on it's own accord and before you realized it you were at the doors. You gave a tug, expecting it to be locked, but the door swung open and inside you noticed the lock lay on the ground.

You should have turned around, got in your car, and drove away. Instead you stepped inside and found the bloody, broken body of the man who attacked you. There was a slight sway to the corpse that was hanging from a reinforced pillar. Nearly screaming your hand shot to cover your mouth.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You should've left.

Aizawa was watching you from the kitchen, cursing Hizashi for leaving the shed unlocked. His hand hovered over the secured cabinet drawer that stored a pistol. He wouldn't shoot you only scare you a bit. But you weren't running out in a panic. He didn't even hear you scream. Interesting. He went to join you, moving like any predator concealing it presence and leaving the gun safe untouched.

You should've left.

You should've left.

You finally came to your sense and whirled around only to run into your late night admirer. A terrified squeak escaped you as you jumped further into the confined space.

"Mr Aizawa! I'm sorry, I shouldn't have - I'm sorry."

He didn't look angry, although you wished he did. It would be better than the unsettling smile on his face.

"That's alright, I was heading out here anyway," He closed the door behind him and flicked on a dim light that lit up the room with shadows. "Can't leave it hanging for too long."

Your throat tightened, he stood between you and the only exit. If he noticed your terror there was no indication that he cared. He turned his back to you momentarily, rummaging through the clutter on the workbench. Now was the best chance you may get and you made a dash for the door. It was a futile attempt and part of you knew it but your nerves were ablaze with adrenaline and you were running on instinct not reason. There was a foreign tightness around your throat that kept you fighting to inhale. Struggling to breathe you didn’t even register the sharp pinch of a needle piercing your deltoid.

Aizawa pressed his nose to your hair, "Behave. Even if you get out of here, your tire has a flat, pesky nails tend to find their way on to the roads out here. A real shame."

He dragged you over to a chair across from the lifeless body cuffing both your wrists to the armrests. Stupid, stupid, he was grabbing out cuffs and I ran straight into him, you scolded yourself. You went to open your mouth and beg to be let go, but you were silenced.

"Keep it down or I'll have to find a way to keep you quiet."

Your heart was beating so hard it hurt. Once a friend said it was possible to die by fright, if that was true you wouldn't last much longer. Now that you were safely out of the way, Aizawa could make quick work dismembering the carcass. He donned his usual rubber apron and pulled back his hair. With his experience he could finish the job in less than two hours. Now was as good a time as ever for you to learn.

With a sigh he began his explanation and craft:

"Cannibalism has been around as long as we've existed: sacrificially, ceremonially, culturally, especially during times of plague, war, and famine. You can find documented accounts from pretty much every part of the world. And there's no one reason. Our family keeps it simple. We eat meat, animals are meat, and humans are animals. In times of famine and other hardships, this was a reliable food source. Of course now, there's not much of a risk for severe famine to effect people like us but it's tradition. This is how it's been for our family for years. And not just those of us around these parts but our relatives everywhere. It's important to keep old trades alive."

He paused, now splattered with blood, to take note of your dry heaving.

"Please," You gasped. "I just want to go -"

With narrowed eyes he continued:

"It's important for you to listen to our family history. Typically we don't reap a harvest until three weeks after the winter solstice and 3 weeks before the summer solstice. Twice a year is enough to get us by. Zashi and I are impressed that you managed to wrangle him in. Poetic in a way, don’t ’cha think? Consuming the flesh of someone who tried to overpower you. First reap of the harvest. Nice that it's a family affair."  

The room was spinning and you were fighting the sedative as hard as you could. There was no way any of this was real, maybe you were dreaming? Maybe you'd been knocked unconscious when that man rushed you. Or better yet, maybe you were asleep at home still. It was possible that this whole delivery fiasco was just a nightmare. Your stomach churned at the speech. There was sun peaking through the cracks in the wall by the time he finished separating the ... different sections. There was no more body, just pieces. You nodded off for a few minutes before being jolted awake by the door opening and letting in the bright morning light .

"Good morning, you two night owls," Hizashi beamed. Walking to his husband handing over a tall mug of coffee. He was completely unfazed by the scene he walked in on. In fact the only frown he made was when Aizawa said he put too much sweetener in the coffee.  "Anyways, grumpy pants, I called your sister. She's on her way to pick up Eri and Shinsou for a few days. To give us some time to focus on our little muse. Speaking of, I should go get her some water. Oh, plus we need to fix our door."

---

After you refused to drink anything they tried to give you they left you alone in the shed. The handcuffs were too tight for you to slip through and in your struggle you managed to topple the chair over, hitting the floor with painful slap. It was hard to ignore the buzzing of the flies swarming the space where the body once hung. You closed your eyes, your mind wandering to your family and what they would think when they realized you were missing.

Outside you heard a car pull up and were tempted to scream for someone to help you. Maybe it was the police; maybe someone realized you didn't go home last night and found out where your last delivery was. Your captors came out to greet whoever it was and you were glad you didn't yell, they sounded friendly. They were coming toward the shed but you were too defeated to react.

"Sho," Hizashi gasped, "She fell."

The response was sharp and sarcastic, "I hadn't noticed." He yanked you up with ease and the world was no longer side ways but the jolt paired with the exhaustion and drugs left the world spinning.

The woman must've been the sister they mentioned earlier. She squealed with delight, "Oh isn't she the cutest, lemme get a good look."

She resembled neither of the men and gave off cool-soccer-mom vibes. With a gentle grip on your chin she bore into your eyes.

"Please,” You begged, “I just want go home."

The sister didn't waiver, "Don't worry sweet thing, these two are gonna take such good care of you. Just relax and let them help you."

Help? You don't need help from them. You needed to get out of this hell.

"Okay," She bounced toward the exit, "Bring out my niece and nephew, we're gonna have a fun weekend. And take care of your girl, she looks like a keeper."

Finally you screamed in frustration. Brief, loud, and full of anger but it deflated just as quickly when the two men shot you a menacing look. How could all three of them show no display of empathy? You were again convinced this was an alternate reality when both children peaked their heads in to wave goodbye before they peeled away from the home, leaving you alone with Hizashi and Aizawa.

---

There was a hatch toward the back of the room where the two disappeared until they came back with a third body. They were dragging a woman up like a ragdoll and acidic bile burned your throat. If you had to guess you would say she was late middle age. It felt like they were setting a stage, Hizashi pulled you closer to where they stood while Aizawa managed to tie the woman down to the stained table.

"Why are you doing this," you cried. But they ignored you.

"Did you know there are people who pay for certain oddities and they’re willing to spend big bucks to get what they want? We keep whatever makes sense to eat and sell the rest. Ideally nothing goes to waste.”

The next hour and forty-seven minutes were excruciating. There were several “items” – as they referred to her body parts – that they removed while she was still alive; but finally Aizawa made the perfect incision along her thigh and a pomegranate wave gushed out. There was no way she would suffer much longer with this amount of blood loss.

"Please just let her die," You begged the universe. "Please let it end."

For the first time since starting they stepped back from the body, leaving it on the table to come over to you. Aizawa knelt before you and his bloody hand brushed hair from your face; his thumb rested on your lip and you couldn't even physically respond. Hizashi was behind him, rubbing his partner's shoulders.

"You're going to kill me?”  

Both men finally softened, coming down their endorphin high. There was something so satisfying about your question. Arousing, even. They made it clear that your life was up to them, which meant they had you where they needed you.

"Am I having a blonde moment? I don't recall saying we'd kill her."

Aizawa threw an incredulous look his way before addressing you, "We aren't going to kill you. We wouldn't've saved you from that terrible animal if that were the plan. We don't kill just anyone. We wanted to introduce you to our lifestyle and now’s the best chance. Eri’s wanted to keep you since day one, but if you can't behave that'll be an issue. Can you prove to us that you’re going to behave or do we have to get you down into the cellar?”

There was no other choice than to nod. Picking up a piece of the dissected woman Hizashi muttered something about starting dinner before telling his husband that you really need to get more rest. Aizawa agreed, and since it seemed like you were having trouble getting rest he decided to give you another little dose of medicine.

[hpalways]

Surprises || Childe

a/n: i swear i’ll get to the requests soon akjdhfjfj sorry for the wait dudes. 

BUT YEAHHHHHH ITS CHILDES BIRTHDAY I LOVE U DADDY HAVE A NICE ONE 

THROWING a surprise party for Childe was more difficult than one could imagine. He didn't fully admit it, but he was obviously hurt when no one wished him a happy birthday today. And while everyone went on to set the scene for when you would all surprise him, you were given the role to distract him. As the two of you strolled through the streets of Liyue Harbor, his sea blue eyes darted everywhere agitatedly. Repeatedly letting out a sigh, he combed his gloved hand through his ginger locks. You stifled a giggle at his discomfort, sensing that he was too prideful to outwardly question why his birthday wishes were practically nonexistent this year. 

He peered at you with disappointment, for he wished to hear those words from you more than anyone else. Wondering if his birthday was really that forgettable, he thought back to the day you asked when his birthday was. The two of you shared the dates and he remembered how elated he was on your birthday, buying gifts and spoiling you with his dirty earned mora. He could still see the grin that was stuck to your face the entire day. 

"Thanks for joining me on some errands. I'm almost done," you told him, smiling. Guilt continued to pour into your chest at the sight of him. 

He nodded and forced out a smile, coloring his face with his usual facade. "Anything for you, comrade," he chuckled, ruffling your hair in a habit. "I was bored anyway. It almost feels like there should be something important today, but I suppose there's truly nothing."

You wanted to burst out laughing. He was trying so hard to be discreet about it, but you could easily read behind the lines. "Oh? Nah. There's nothing important today."

"Nothing at all?" he responded, voice hollow. "That's strange. Are you sure?"

"I keep all my important dates on my calendar. It was blank for today."

His flingers curled around his shirt, gripping so tightly they shook. You were very organized, but his birthday wasn't on there. Did he mean nothing to you? Did he care for you more than you did him? He was beginning to feel idiotic -- foolish even. Falling silent as he followed you to the next stall, he watched you buy daily groceries, picking out the biggest fish in the pile and bright fruits from the baskets. He numbly carried the bags, groaning to himself. Maybe he should leave the city and hunt down some hilichurls, skewer them so he could release some of his pent up frustration. 

While he was lost in his head, too busy thinking about his bottled up emotions, you noticed Hu Tao in the distance, making wide signals. She was dramatic as per usual and you glared at her, urging her to hide within the shadows. Quickly turning away from the merchant, you were relieved to know that Childe had not detect anything suspicious. It was showtime. 

"Okay. One more stop," you informed him. 

"I... think I should to go," he responded. "I'll drop your bags back home."

Panic seeped into your expression, your eyes growing wide. Oh no -- this couldn't get any worse. You had to stop him before he could leave, because who knew where he would go next? He was such an unpredictable guy, free to roam wherever he liked with that reputation of his. "It's just one more place," you pointed out, knitting your brows together. "Come on, Childe. It will be really quick. Please?" You gave him the best puppy eyes and slipped a hand in his, squeezing it tightly to feel tingles erupt at the contact.

His head leveled slightly at the feeling of your hand, so he slowly nodded. "Fine. But I'll have to go right afterwards. I have some business to do with the Fatui."

That was a lie. The both of you knew that, but Childe didn't want to seem so lame in front of you. He already felt that enough today to last a lifetime.

You pulled him through the crowds of people lingering on the roads beside buildings, making a beeline to the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. You ignored the furrow of his forehead when he saw the building looming ahead of him. Before he could voice out any inquiries, you pushed the dark oaken doors open, stepping into the darkness. He stayed by your side loyally, his muscles strained, ready to protect you from the weird atmosphere of the room. 

The curtains dropped, golden sunlight spilling through the windows to reveal the secret. "Happy birthday Childe!" the entire group called out. There stood in the room were dozens of people, including Teucer, Zhongli, Hu Tao, traveler, Paimon, and fellow Liyue citizens. Tables were set up in the Parlor, banners were hung up on the wall, and food were lined up, including a birthday cake. You turned to look at the red haired man, whose irises took it all in, his mouth parting openly. 

"Teucer. You're here!" he gasped, opening his arms wide when his little brother ran up to him. He hugged the boy tenderly, thanking everyone for the throwing the party. They all began to surround Childe, while others mingled and conversed, for the party was starting. 

You faded into the background, leaning against the cool wall and feeling grateful that it was a success. It was a lot of work, but with everyone contributing, it went very well, which was a little strange, considering you half expected it to fall apart.

Footsteps sounded, so you turned to the left to see him approaching you. He looked breathless, his cheeks rosy, and his dimples showing. "The party was your idea, wasn't it?" he stated, rather than in question form. 

Nodding silently, you took something out from your pockets. "Happy birthday, Childe."

You handed it to him and he took it with a softened expression. Unwrapping the gold, shiny wrapping of the small box, he opened it up to find a keychain in it, blue and twinkling. It was carved into a hydro vision, the details exactly aligned to the vision that sat on his torso. 

He kissed you then, crashing his lips upon yours. Hands faltering to the sides, you clenched your fingers around his forgotten present and returned the kiss. He tasted of seasalt and apples, as well as a scent that no doubt came from his homeland. His warmth brushed over to you, spreading through your system and to the tip of your fingers. Your cheeks burned at the contact and your chest pounded, but eventually, you pulled away, embarrassed by the chance of any onlookers.

"There are too many people here," you said, shaking your head, still feeling flustered by the way he looked at you -- as if you were the only thing he could see in this world. He was so unashamed, willing to do anything to grapple at the goal he sought after. He had always been like that. And always will be. 

He raised a brow, the corner of his lips curving up mischievously. "Are you suggesting we get out of here and find a vacant room?"

You hit his arm and he pouted, laughing at your reaction. "How rude," you sniffed. "I threw this entire party for you and you're already willing to ditch it. Don't think I'll forget how desperate you were this entire day."

Embarrassed, he averted his gaze from you, scratching his head with an awkward chuckle. "I didn't care for a party, [Y/N]. All I wanted was to hear a birthday wish from you. I was scared you forgot it."

"I would never forget it. Not in a million years."

His cheeks grew red and he seemed content at your answer. Swinging an arm around you, he lugged you towards the food. Then he rambled on and on about something regarding stuffing himself so he could slay a bunch of enemies. Sitting down at a table, he declared a rematch with traveler. On the other end of the table was Zhongli, going on long tangents to the poor victim who was forced to listen in. Hu Tao was scaring off another customer, suggesting deals like the sales woman she was and suddenly talking about the afterlife. 

Everyone here was so distinct and peculiar, but in a good way. Grateful to be surrounded by such people, you knew that not a day goes by without an adventure. 

"Hey Tuecer," you said to the boy beside you. He was in the middle of playing with Mr. Cyclops, making sound effects with his mouth. "How are you doing, little guy?"

"Hi [Y/N]!" he giggled. "I'm good. Mr. Cyclops is doing good too. He wants to say happy birthday to my big bro too!"

Childe returned from his conversation with traveler and Paimon, on time to ruffle his brother's head like he did with you earlier. "Thank you Mr. Cyclops," he cooed, petting the top of the toy endearingly. You laughed at the scene and he locked eyes with you. "Hey, don't hurt Mr. Cyclops' feelings like that. Right, Teucer?"

"Right," Teucer nodded somberly, growing real serious. 

Ugh, these brothers. You rolled your eyes and tossed food into your mouth. Childe's head abruptly dropped to your ear, his breath hovering upon your lobes. You shivered at his close proximity. "I love you, [Y/N]. You know that, right?" he whispered into your ear. 

Heart hammering for the millionth time this day, you paused with your chopsticks in the air. "I love you too, dumb birthday boy."

[dabilove27]

How Far We've Come

Paring: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ only)

Warnings: Angst, Character Death, Smut (female-receiving oral), A Cocky Dabi, Cussing, A lot of Pet Names

Word Count: 7.8K

A/N: This is my contribution to the Smut Pile Apocalypse Collab! If you have the time check out some of the other amazing pieces! Everyone has worked so hard to make some beautiful fics!

Thank you so much to my wife @lady-lunaaa for reading, encouraging, brainstorming, and helping me the whole way from start to finish. I have said it before but I will say it again. You are absolutely amazing and this fic wouldn't exist without you! 💜 Also thank you @/deathcab4daddy (not sure if you want to be tagged) for taking the time to read through and for your advice!

You've seen all those movies, the decaying zombie hoards, the massive explosions that wipe out nations, or an unexpected illness that mysteriously kills off the population. But you had never really expected for any of those apocalyptic things to become true in your own world.  They were just fiction, never something that could actually occur. Yet here you are faced with the reality of a hoard of rotting zombies. Like you have been thrown into one of the many movies or TV shows yourself.

People aren't even sure how it happened, especially in a world full of quirks where this should be somewhat controlled, right? Wrong, whatever caused this zombie apocalypse also seemed to nullify quirks over time. There was so much speculation whether it came into the water supply or passed through the air. But none of that really seems to matter anymore when you are fighting for your life every day.

And as the mass of decaying, walking corpses steps closer and closer to you, it seems like your end is near too. The smell of organs exposed to the air and sun stink up the room.  You can see the blank, milky white eyes of the undead that somehow can still find you even though they can't really see.  You've had a partner, at least—the man who has stood with you during this entire shit show.

He stands close to you, a single rusted knife covered in stagnant blood, not nearly enough even combined with whatever you could find for fighting off the seemingly endless mindless bodies coming your way. He's covered in burn scars and rusted staples that pull at his healthy skin. People used to jab at him for looking like the walking dead before all this went down.  His firepower from before would have solved this problem in an instant. This rotting mob wouldn't have stood a chance.

But instead, it looks like it's the conclusion for the two of you. Memories flash through your mind. A memory of escaping the daily struggle of your mundane life by sharing take-out on your old couch.  Or how his kisses always felt like burning flames against your lips.  Your regular life consisted of trying to numb the pain of the past with alcohol or working endless hours.  Even though you didn’t have a traditional relationship where you could go on public dates, being in a relationship with a well-known villain was worlds better than this. But if you were going to die, at least it was together. Solidarity in times like this seems to help the never-ending dread that the Reaper looming around every corner ready to take you.  Every moment in this new hell had you wished you had more time to develop your romance with him instead of the tragedy that was about to befall you. You wished you had more time with this romance and that it wouldn't end in tragedy. It's hard to believe that there was ever a time when you couldn't stand this man, but even now, that's a fond memory for you.  You would give anything to return to that old bar where the two of you met and relive all of these memories.

It really isn't a surprise that you met Dabi in a dark, run-down bar near Kamino.  No, not the "bar" run by Kurogiri; everyone who lived in this area knew that it was just a setup. This bar is a tiny little hole in the wall with paint chipping off the walls and where the seats were hardly held together anymore, but that didn't really matter to people who lived in this area. You didn't come to this bar for a luxury experience.

The main reason people came to this bar was its location.  It sat deep in a seedy area which meant no police patrolling nearby so you wouldn’t need to look over your shoulder constantly.  Plus, the cheap liquor was enticing enough.

Every Friday night, you were perched on one of the worn-out bar stools as you nursed your gin and tonic.  This was your place to unwind after another hellish week of your mundane job.  It was still early enough in the evening that the bar wasn't thoroughly packed with bodies trying to get their drink.  The music was still soft,  later it would blare whatever song was currently sitting at the top of the Billboard charts. You were able to turn your brain off and listen to other patrons' mindless chatter in the background.  You could just sip your drink, maybe take a shot or two if you felt like, and then head home to pass out.

You relished this little getaway, an oasis in the slums that made up your small world.  The bartender and regular patrons didn't bother you, so you could have your own peace.  But your Eden got interrupted by a cocky, fire-wielding asshole who had set his sights on you.

You didn't stir when said asshole plopped himself down in the barstool next to you with a thump.  It wasn't until the jerk actually spoke to you that you were brought out of your mindless daydreaming.

"Hey, pretty girl, what are you doing in a place like this?"  He said with a smooth tone.  You didn't even have to look at him to know he had an arrogant smirk plastered on his face.

Who the fuck does this asshole think he is? The irritated thought instantly pops into your head.  Anyone who frequented this bar knew you were from around here.  You weren't some soft, delicate flower that wasn't supposed to be "on this side of town."  Preparing yourself by putting on your best "I'm not interested face," you maneuvered your body to face him, ready to tell him off.

Your words caught in your throat as your eyes met his two endless pools of cerulean.  Your gaze shifted to take in the burnt skin clinging onto the shining staples that were rooted in his healthy skin. A familiar black coat spread across his frame that was even more recognizable than those eyes, and the patronizing smile that you wanted to slap off his face. As much as you wanted to throw up your middle finger at him and tell him off, you knew who this was. Hell, everyone knew who this was.

The League of Villains didn't necessarily keep quiet around here. They didn't have to. This is the area where they recruited people to join them. You didn't just flick off and ignore a LOV member. Especially the infamous Dabi, who wasn't really known for his kindness or compassion. More for his ability to burn anyone who defied The League to a crumbling crisp.

But still, who did this asshole think he is? Waltzing in here like he owned it and saddling down into your escape from the world only to tell you that you don't look like you should be here?  Fuck that nonsense, League member or not.

You swallow down a bit of the initial anger as your eyes narrow into a glare at the cocky asshole.  "Thanks but no thanks, I'm not interested in being involved with the League. So if you don't mind going somewhere else to scout, that would be great." You try to say without a tremble in your voice as you wave your hand in a "shoo" motion.

You aren't sure what you expect Dabi to do next., burn down the whole bar you included? Tell you that you have no choice but to join, and you're coming with him? Rip you out of your seat and reprimand you for disrespecting The League? But instead, none of those things happen.  Instead, he does something you don't expect, and his grin grows a little wider as the staples begin to pull more at his healthy flesh.

You can feel your anxiety rising. Get out, get out, get out, this asshole will kill you, leave NOW, your mind is practically sending off every warning signal it can.

Your chest tightens when Dabi lets out a low chuckle. "Oh no, sweetheart, you've got it all wrong."  He says with a dark tone. "I'm not recruiting you for work. My interest in you is personal."  Dabi points at you and then at himself and finishes with an infuriating smirk that seems to be mocking you.  He's moved his hand and placed it on your forearm that was resting on the smooth bar top.

A shiver runs through you as the mismatched textures of his skin and the cool metal of the staples.  You feel your anger bubbling up again.  How dare this jerk think that you will just fall for him like a desperate fangirl.  You are livid at this point, frustration coursing through your veins, fuck the niceties and preservation. He needed to be put in his place.

"I know you think you are some big shot because The League is doing so well right now but fuck off asshole.  I'm not a League groupie that will just kneel down and suck your dick just because you want it." You spit out at him while shrugging off his hand and moving your body to face the way you were initially sitting. Grasping your drink and lifting it to your lips, you try and down what was left so you could leave immediately, any extra moment around Dabi was a moment you didn't want to have.

You were sure Dabi would have given up or at least killed you by now. You can't imagine that he is used to being rejected by women.  He's handsome in a way that doesn't fit with the norm.  He fills in that bad boy check-list like it's his job, which it practically is given his profession.  Again though, Dabi surprises you with his response. He doesn't yell, he doesn't use his quirk, and he doesn't kill you. He lets out another dark chuckle like he's enjoying this and continues the conversation you had tried to cut off.

"I didn't say anything about sucking dick, but if you're offering, who am I to turn down a gift?"  That smooth tone is back as he moves his hand to your hair and runs it through his fingers.

Bewilderment overcomes you, and you can't even stop yourself before you are turned towards him again, glass in your hand, ready to throw what's left of your drink on him.

As if he anticipated the response, Dabi moves quickly and grabs your wrist in a tight grip.  "Now, why would you want to waste what you have left, doll? That's not a very smart choice." His grip tightens a little more around your wrist, and you can feel the staples begin to dig into your skin as he lets out a deep chuckle. He moves your hand back down to the bar but doesn't let go even after your glass has left your hand.  "There we go, good girl.  Now let's talk just a bit." He says sweetly, loosening his grip just a bit, but not enough for you to move your hand.

If looks could kill, Dabi would have died a cruel death by now. You are seething at this point.  But instead, you're stuck there as he continues to do whatever it is that he’s trying to accomplish.  "What were you drinking?  I'll buy you another one and then leave, okay doll?"  He says playfully and with a cunning grin on his face as you mumble out your drink order.  You just want him to leave, and you really hope he plans on keeping his word.

Dabi motions for the bartender's attention, gives your drink order and plops a few bills on the bartop. He still hasn't let go of your wrist, and each and every moment he is even touching you, you can feel your annoyance continuing to build.  You want to ask him if he's done yet and will kindly get the fuck out, but you have a sneaking suspicion that he likes the cat and mouse game, which would just lengthen the amount of time he sticks around.

The bartender finally delivers your drink, and it takes everything in you not to rip your wrist out of his grasp and grab the new glass to pour over Dabi's head.  "Okay, one last question, and then I'll leave."  He drawls out as you put all your focus into the condensation forming on your glass.  You stay silent, waiting for his stupid question so you can move on and never see him again.  Dabi continues with that condesending tone that is starting to cause your head to ache, "How often do you come here? I'd love to see you again."

Your heartbeat picks up, and little shots of adrenaline start to flow through you as you contemplate how to respond. Of course, you don't want this asshole to know when you come here. This is your escape from the world. You never want to even see Dabi again,  but something from this interaction tells you Dabi isn't going to give up easily. So you tell him your regular time that you show up at the bar every Friday.

Dabi squeezes your wrist a little bit before letting out another "Good girl, sounds like a date.  I'll see you then." You never want him to know how those few words send a shiver down your spine. He saunters out of the bar without having a single drink himself. Patrons stare dumbfounded between you and the doorway that Dabi just exited, trying to comprehend what just happened.

You let out an exasperated sigh before leaning your head down into your folded arms.  The bar top isn't necessarily the cleanest of places to lay your head, but it’s pounding and racing with thoughts, and you can't really bring yourself to care right now.  You try to formulate a plan so you won't ever see him. You'll just move your regular day to Saturday instead of Fridays.  But then that stubborn anger flares inside of you again, and you sit up straight, glancing at your newly unwanted drink as the ice slowly melts, lifting the remaining liquid in the cup.  No, I'm not going to let that asshole ruin my spot for me.  He can come around here every Friday, but I'll turn that jerk down a million times. You think a little smugly to yourself.  We will see how the big bad Dabi feels being turned down over and over.  Maybe that will sting his ego.

And so you and Dabi play this game of cat and mouse. He comes every Friday when you are there without fail, buying you a drink, chatting to you with sentences filled with pet names, and planning another "date" each time.  And every time you tell him you aren't interested or to go away, or really anything to try and get that stupid fucking smirk off his face.  But it always remains cemented there as he watches you get fired up.  And what you don't realize is the two of you are getting to know each other.  Dabi adds in little questions, "what's your favorite food, least favorite, what do you do for work?"  And the questions go on and on.  You don't realize your walls coming down as the two of you find similarities in each other.  And if there is one thing anyone who sees these frequent interactions between the two of you can say, it is that Dabi is determined.

You are so used to Dabi's Friday visits that they don't bring headaches anymore, and you realize something more has developed when he doesn't show up one week.  A mixture of feelings rests in you, anxiety, confusion, anger.  You wonder if he's okay, or has he finally given up.  And then anger if he has.  You don't want to admit it, but you miss his company, and you don't even have a number to reach out to him.  You feel a sense of loss in your chest.  How could he just give up?  He's been trying for months!  You think as tears begin to sting for a moment in your eyes.

You leave the bar that night not feeling uplifted or relaxed but sad and angry.  And you aren't necessarily looking forward to returning the week after, but you do come back to your regular spot and hope Dabi will show.  Your heart almost stops in your chest when you see him walk through the entrance of the bar, and before you can contain the words, they tumble out in a frantic sound, "where were you last week?"  You are standing in front of him now, looking up at that little grin he always has on his face whenever you get annoyed with him.  You cross your arms over your chest and exclaim, "Well? I'm waiting."

"Aw, did you miss me, baby girl?"  His poker face never falls, but his grin grows a tiny bit wider as he stares into your fiery eyes.  And without warning, he wraps one of his long arms around you, pulling you into a tight side hug.

A small eep escapes you at the movement, and you move to push him off.  "What the hell are you doing? Answer my question, you jerk!" You practically yell as you push away from him.  He doesn't let go and just pulls you tighter to him, and you find yourself not struggling anymore as you take in the weathered texture of his coat pressed against your arm and the smell of cigarettes on him.  You feel your walls starting to fall entirely, "I was really concerned about you." You let out in a whisper, not really wanting to admit it to him, but you weren't sure how you would feel if something like this happened again.

"Aw, babe, you did miss me."  The delight in his voice makes you shiver a little.  He gestures you over to your regular spot at the bar, and the two of you sit down in the weathered chairs.  He puts a calloused finger under your chin to bring your gaze to his.  You stare into his cerulean depths that you used to hate and find yourself softening a bit.  "I had to do something for The League, but I don't have your number, love.  So I couldn't call and let you know I wouldn't make our date."  His face relaxes a bit as he watches your frown turn into a bit of pout.

"Okay, well fine, I'll give you my number.  But don't just text me randomly, okay?"  You huff as you lay your palm flat and motion for his phone.  Dabi chuckles and shakes his head before handing you the phone without another word.  Lifting the phone, you type your number into the cracked screen and hand it back to him.  "Okay, now text me, so I have yours. " You say, moving to grab your phone to wait for his upcoming text.

"Hmmm, I don't think so, doll,"  Dabi says, taking in your furrowed brow and then relishing in the way you roll your eyes at his taunting.

"Fine, whatever, Dabi.  Just text me next time you can't make it."  You say sourly while searching for the bartender to order your drink.  You don't want Dabi to see the slight sting of hurt in your eyes because he won't give you his.  The rest of the night goes as expected, drinking and talking, and you find yourself laughing more, not realizing how much you truly enjoyed this time with him.

The two of you depart with another hug, this one much shorter than the first, but you find yourself leaning into the warmth that radiates from him instead of wanting to push him off.  As you begin walking down the street home, you feel a buzz in your pocket.  Pulling out your phone, you unlock it to the message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Hey babe, see you same time next week - D

A small smile comes to your face as you type a response back.

The following year you grow in your relationship with Dabi.  There are never really any titles between the two of you.  Just that the two of you are together.  You never meet The League. Dabi is insistent you aren't involved with them in case things go awry.  But you spend a lot of time together when work or villain work doesn't take up the time.

Your relationship together comes to a head at the very start of the apocalypse.  The two of you sit snuggled together on your worn-out couch watching the news as a young reporter stands in front of a local research building in town and goes through the facts of citizens becoming "mindless and violent in a matter of hours."  And how they have people under lockdown who are experiencing symptoms of this "mysterious illness."

A slight shiver goes through you as the reporter goes on.  "That's really scary. No one knows what's causing it,"  you reflect aloud while you lean in closer into Dabi's outstretched arm that is resting around your shoulders.

"Aw, babe, don't be scared.  Those mindless fools wouldn't stand a chance if they tried to lay a hand on you while I'm there,"  Dabi says with a glint of amusement in his voice.  He always sounds so condescending, but you know it's the truth.  Remembering a time at the bar when a guy wouldn't take no for an answer-not that Dabi really followed that either- but Dabi didn't hesitate to let the guy know you were already taken.  He flirts and likes to jab a lot, but there’s a complete shift in the atmosphere when he's serious.

"Ugh, Dabi, you know I don't mean them attacking us. It's whatever is causing it that worries me. What happens if one of us gets it?  There's no cure right now,"  You say and worry your lower lip between your teeth.

Dabi picks up on your anxious state, and his cocky facade fades.  He pulls you on his lap so that you are fully facing him with legs pressed on either side of his.  Dabi holds one large hand on your waist, and the other he presses to your cheek.  Leaning your cheek further into his hand, Dabi moves his thumb to trace over the slight marks in your lip where your teeth were just placed.  "Hey, listen to me, nothing is going to happen, okay?  I won't let any of these maniacs hurt you, and we won't catch whatever they have,"  Dabi says tenderly as he gives you a small smile.

It's nice to see him like this- when his mask of superiority disappears, and he's focused on encouraging you.  It doesn't happen often because you like to keep walls.  Comfort from Dabi doesn’t need to happen often but you can’t say you don’t like it when he does.  You enjoy these softer moments with him that only you get to see.

You pull Dabi into a light kiss.  The gentle pressure of his mismatched lips fit seamlessly against yours.  You pull away after a moment to look into his deep blue eyes that now captivate you.  Dabi has that coy smile still on his face, and as his eyes meet your in that moment, it's like the horrible events of the world aren't happening anymore.  All that seems to exist is the two of you, not the TV still prattling in the background or even the noises outside your city window.

Dabi lightly caresses your cheek down to the length of your neck and finally ending near where your collarbones sit.  Everywhere he touches leaves behind a trail of goosebumps on your skin.  Even with these simple touches, you can feel yourself starting moving against him, trying to create a bit of friction.  Dabi knew how easily he could rile you up with simple touches.  It was frustrating at times, and you wished you could have the same effect on him.

"I love you, babe.  And no matter what, I won't let anything hurt you,"  Dabi tells you, and you swear his voice seems to be cracking, but the moment is gone before you can think about it.  Dabi lives on being mysterious most of the time, and you rarely get to see this vulnerable side of him.  Even if he doesn't say it behind that mask of cockiness, you can feel that there is fear of what's happening right now.  Or at least that's what you think the fear is from, but Dabi will never admit the fear is from losing you to whatever this is.  He isn't sure he could survive this hell of a life he's been given without you.

Your heart aches at his sincere words from earlier, and you whisper back, "I love you too, Dabi."  Drawing him into a more intense kiss.  Dabi begins to run his fingers along the hem of your t-shirt and delicately brushes the skin right under with his fingertips.  You feel a moan bubble up inside of you, but his mouth moving against yours swallows the sound.

"I want you so bad, doll.  Let's just forget what's going on right now, let the world fall away,"  he says in a husky voice after breaking away from the kiss.

You nod to him before letting out a content sigh and letting your eyes fall shut while Dabi continues to trace his hands over your body.  Dabi trails his massive heated hands under the thin shirt you are wearing and down to your hips.  You can feel the bulge of his cock through his jeans as it begins to press against your clothed core.

Opening your eyes, you meet Dabi's half-lidded lustful eyes and bite your bottom lip and allow yourself to give into Dabi taking over you.

You can feel your heart beating a little faster, watching Dabi drink in every ounce of you.  Dabi is one of the only men you have ever trusted like this.  To have you so totally vulnerable.  It's strange how someone you didn't want anything to do with for months has become someone you rely on for everything- love, comfort, pleasure.

Dabi places open-mouthed kisses along your neck that leave you breathless.  "Fuck, I'm obsessed with every inch of you,"  Dabi growls out before returning to kissing and sucking your neck and exposed collar bone.

You grip Dabi's shoulder to ground you back from floating away into complete bliss and tip your head out to give him more access to your neck.  Dabi's mouth is like a flame that licks at your sensitive skin as he continues to trail his mouth all over.  You could be trapped in this pleasure forever.

Dabi grasps the back of your head and roughly brings your lips back to his.  With your mouths slotted against each other, you moan as Dabi finesses you to where you are lying on your back on the old couch, and he is hovering over you.

You break the kiss to quickly pull off his jacket and expose Dabi's scarred arms.  And just as you have only trusted Dabi fully with yourself, he has done the same.  Of course, the two of you have had sex with other people, mostly with lights off clothing still left on to hide the imperfections.  But with each other, there is no more hiding.

Heat begins to pool in your belly as you watch Dabi pull off your shorts and slide his warm hands all the way back up your leg and massage the plush skin of your thighs.  Once your shorts are removed, Dabi brings himself back to your face and, with a lustful sigh, traces kisses on your jaw and neck.

"Just relax and let me take you away from all of this, love.  I want to hear every sound you make." He growls as he moves down towards your pussy and lays himself between your spread legs.  Dabi lifts your thighs to rest on his shoulder as you let out a little gasp.  You can feel the excitement and heat rising in you.

Dabi kisses down the inside of your soft thighs and stops to suck at certain spots, leaving minor marks in their place.  He stops for a moment until you are looking directly into his captivating gaze, and then he licks a stripe up your pussy over the cotton of your underwear.  You let out a breathy moan at the sensation.   That jerk knows precisely what he's doing.

Dabi then grabs the thin material of your underwear and rips them away from your body with a tear. Groaning, you are about to curse at him for ruining another pair but are cut short when he sleekly licks up your folds. A delicate, playful moan leaves your separated lips.  Your eyes close, and you cling onto his white shirt to ground yourself.

"Baby girl, you're soaking wet," Dabi teases as if you weren't aware but cuts off any retort again with a quick suck to your aching clit. You can't hold back the loud moan that bubbles up in your throat.

Dabi smiles against your lower lips and continues his ministrations.   His mouth is open wide, so he can move back and forth from quickly licking up and down your sensitive pussy as well as suck softly on your clit.   You feel light-headed at the extended sensations, little whimpers and moans falling through your lips.  Dabi has always been able to leave you speechless with just his mouth.

"Dabi please," Your breathing hitches, and you moan out as he flicks his tongue repeatedly over your small bud. You can feel that hot pressure building in your stomach as Dabi continues. He laps at you like you are holding the only source of liquid left in this world, his tongue working wonders on your dripping hole.

Dabi pulls back and looks up at you as you eagerly meet his blue eyes, begging him to continue.  He smirks before lowering his mouth back down and laps at your sopping core teasingly.  Fucking bastard.  Always a tease from day one.

Dabi licks his lips before returning to eating you out even faster as a series of cries and obscenities continue to fall out of your mouth.  You can't hold them back.  His mouth is so hot and wet against your core.

With another curse, you tell him you are close. A sigh escapes your lips, and your head tosses back onto the cushy arm of the couch.  Dabi pulls away but inserts two fingers inside of you in place of his mouth.

"Fuck, sweetheart, as much as I want to hear you beg and plead for me,  I want to taste you right now."  Dabi lets out with a rough voice filled with desire.  You whimper as he continues to fuck you with his fingers.  He smirks at your blissed-out face and then returns his mouth to your pussy.  His tongue flicks over your clit repeatedly as whines and cries continue to be let out of your mouth.  Back arching, you bite at your lip, barely able to even process the words that came out of Dabi just a moment ago.

"Oh, fuck, Dabi, please. Please, I'm gonna cum soon." The words fall from your lips, and your mind feels numb to everything except the feeling of Dabi's tongue on your pussy.

Dabi grunts and gives another hard suck to your clit before pulling away just a bit.  "Hell yeah, babe, come all over my face."

Your eyes roll back, and your mouth opens with another cry as your legs begin to tremble as the tension starts to rise in your stomach. One more lick, and you know you'd come. Dabi's continued suckling of your clit sends you careening over the edge. Your cries fill the room, and your back arches as your legs try to squeeze around his head.  Dabi continues to suck and lick as you orgasm.  Panting and with your eyes twisted shut, you cling to his shirt as you start to come down.  A final curse gently leaves your mouth as you wait for your legs to stop shaking.  Dabi takes one last long slow lick before sitting back and wiping his face with the back of his hand.  You can't bring yourself to move from the couch, still panting and weak.

Your mind starts slowly coming back to you as the bliss begins to leave.  The realization of everything happening in the world washes over you.  But you were thankful Dabi took the time to distract you from the horrors of what's going on.  You move over so Dabi can cuddle with you on the couch.  It isn't much room, but it feels good to be this close with him, wrapped in each other's arms.  You both slowly start to drift off to sleep, but you don't miss Dabi's final words mumbled into your hair, "I'll never let anything happen to you."

Shortly after that, the world seems to descend into madness.  The illness grows more and more rampant.  People are getting infected every day.  Whether it's through the original source of contamination or by those contaminated biting or scratching someone.  Panic spreads throughout the country.  But through all of it, you and Dabi stick together.

From the moment it was declared an emergency Dabi was banging at your door, insisting the two of you find somewhere safer than your run-down apartment.  Because while the two of you needed sleep, whatever these things are could go non-stop, and your apartment was not fortified.

You and Dabi lost your quirks a month after the emergency declaration, along with the rest of the population. People couldn't fight these zombie-like creatures off anymore.  Like all the movies and TV shows, the bodies became more zombies than actual living people.

After a while of jumping around from a destroyed place to another, the two of you found yourself in an apartment building that had a sturdy enough entrance that the zombies couldn't break through.  The daily struggles were still hard, though. Finding food and water to survive became a daily task for the two of you.  Through all of this, he never left your side. He always insisted the two of you stay together.  And so you did.  Fighting the living dead, but sometimes the living too when things got even more terrible, and scavenging was your everyday routine now.

You lost track of time and could only follow when the seasons changed.  But Dabi was really the only thing getting you through this.  Seeing people destroy one another for food or shelter destroyed you inside.  Never knowing if these zombies you were killing were someone you had known at one point, or just another faceless dead person tore at every corner of your brain.  Dabi stayed strong for the two of you.  Holding you every night on the ripped blankets, you could gather for the strange bed the two of you slept in.  You would sob into his muscled chest about how you couldn't live in this world anymore, how you couldn't kill another person, alive or dead.

But Dabi would never let go.  He would hold you close and let your never-ending tears stain the only shirt he had now.  He would rub your back with his warm hands; even though his rusting staples would catch on your shirt and rip from his skin, he still did it.  He would hold you until you fell asleep, whispering how strong you were and how he could never do this without you.  And after all the tears, you were thankful too.  Because without him, you'd be dead or alone.  You knew that without Dabi, you would have never survived this long.

But you could see Dabi was hurting too.  You couldn't find supplies to treat his decaying skin.  He hid his daily pain from you, but when Dabi thought you weren't looking or listening, he would hiss at the pain of another staple pulling at his burnt skin or let out a huge sigh when he would try to put it back together, but it wouldn't cooperate.

The only hope the two of you held onto was each other and that possibly a cure would come soon.  Not that either you could really access that information with no electricity; there wasn't any way to get information other than hearsay.  You survived the best you could in this world.

And as much as this wasn't what you would have picked for either of you, at least you had each other.  You tried not to think of a time when you wouldn't be together, even though the chances of that happening were high- it hurt too much. To survive in this world without Dabi would be too fucking much.

It's almost as if fate chose to play a cruel game with the two of you.  It seemed like a "normal" trip out to scavenge for food and water.  The two of you had to expand your search area since places closer were mainly empty.

This time you found yourself outside of a convenience store, a reasonable distance away from your home.  It hadn't been completely destroyed by some miracle and was not overrun by the zombified people.  Still, in a state of decay, though, Dabi was quickly able to kick his heavy boots through the door and get the two of you in.

Sauntering through the gas station, you quickly begin to pick up canned food and stale bags of chips and shove them in your worn backpack.  Dabi is doing the same on other aisles until he lets out a chuckle.  "Hey babe, look what I found."  He says with a cocky voice holding up a few boxes of wrapped condoms above the aisle for you to see.

You roll your eyes.  "Thanks, Dabi. Is sex really what we want to be thinking about right now? Let's just get this shit and get out."  You let out with an annoyed huff and continue to push the limits of how much your bag can hold.

Dabi comes over to your aisle and snakes his arms around your waist with your back pressed to his chest.  He places his chin on your shoulder and whispers in your ear.  "Yes, all I can think about is getting your beautiful body back home and finally being able to finish in you, and with these, I can."  He lets out a dark chuckle as he pulls you closer against him and bucks  his hips playfully.

"Okay, horn dog, let's get this shit done, and then we can do whatever you want back home."  You let out with an eye roll.  It's hard to stay mad at him. You know he's trying to keep things light for you, to keep you happy because he can see how hard this is.  And his regular teasing is one way he knows will bring a smile to your face.

As you are finishing up trying to take inventory of anything else in the store that you can take back, you spot the clear plastic that holds the cartons of cigarettes behind the cashier counter.  While you didn't necessarily want Dabi smoking, you knew he missed the vice. Cigarettes were just as hard to find as medicine in this new world.  Smiling to yourself, you move behind the counter and reach for the plastic flap to lift it up.

As you try to lift the latch, it doesn't budge. You look around for what might be blocking it before seeing the tiny silver keyhole to one side of the compartment.  Crap, of course, it's locked.    You really wanted to surprise Dabi with this.  Maybe you still could. The key had to be here somewhere, right? You think while scanning around the counter.  You try searching through the counters for a hidden key but no luck.  Letting out a heavy sigh, you call Dabi over.

Dabi wanders over to your annoyed face and can't help but smile at your slight pout.  "I wanted to surprise you! But I can't open it. Can you get it, please?"  It comes out almost like a whine as you gesture to the cigarettes.

Dabi's smirk turns into a genuine smile, and he pats the top of your head before saying, "My sweet doll.  Thank you for thinking of me. Let me help you out."  You could smack him, but instead, you watch as he hastily rips the plastic covering away and slips his hand below it to grab one of the wrapped cartons.

At that moment, everything changes.  The fun times the two of you were having shatters as a loud alarm rings through the store.  Panic floods your system as you stare at Dabi wide-eyed.  "There is no electricity. What's happening? There shouldn't be an alarm."  Horror is laced in your voice as words spill out of you.  Every walking corpse within miles will be here soon with the sound.

"Fuck, must have had a battery attachment. Come on, let's go."  Dabi's usual playfulness is gone as he abandons the cigarettes and grabs your hand.  He's grave now.  Getting the two of you out of here safely is his only goal.

You follow Dabi quickly, a hand grasped tightly in his as he runs towards the broken-down front door.   And that's when even more terror settles into you.  Zombies are pushing their way through the open door.  Their rotting bodies and white eyes focused on the area where the alarm is coming from.  There weren't many around when you broke in, but now it seems like they are multiplying by the moment.

"Fuck fuck fuck." Dabi curses under his breath, quickly turning around and pulling you towards the building's back exit.  You follow behind adrenaline surging through your veins fueled by your flight response.  Dabi grasps at the metal handle to the back door and shakes it only to find it locked.  "Damnit!"  he shouts before kicking the door violently.

Your heart is pounding, and you feel helpless as you stare at Dabi while he continues to slam himself at the door.  While the front door was glass and flimsier, this door was only budging slightly.  With all your focus on the door, you don't notice the continuously growing herd filtering into the gas station.  Not until you feel one brush against your shoulder.

Your eyes widen as you feel a scream bubbling in your throat.  This is it.   This is where the two of you die and either become fodder for a herd of living dead or turn into one yourself.   Your brain is pure panic as thoughts fly through faster than you can catch them.  You don't even realize you have screamed out Dabi's name until you see his face turn towards yours.

His typically blue eyes are almost entirely covered by his dark pupils as he takes in the monstrosities behind you.  But unlike you, he doesn't hesitate. He pulls out a knife he keeps in one of his pockets and slams it into the decaying skull of the zombie that is right behind you.  Splurts of dark blood hit your cheek as he pulls out the knife, and the creature behind you crumples to the floor.

"Keep trying the door! I'll keep them off you."  Dabi shouts, pulling you into the spot he previously stood.  Your heartbeat is so loud you can feel it in your head, and you can't even make a coherent response as you begin to slam your body against the solid surface.  You can feel it give a little more with each push of your body, and everything in you is screaming not to give up.  Doing your best not to glance at Dabi's grunting and movements as he continues to try and put down zombie after zombie.

You can't give up; this can't be the end . Desperately your brain is screaming as you continue to feel the door give more and more.  Your shoulder hurts from the continued impact, but you aren't letting it slow you down.  You can feel it; it's almost there.

Suddenly the door gives, and you can see the sun shining through on the other side.  You cry out in  relief and turn back to tell Dabi to come with you.  But as your eyes meet, fear fills every ounce of you.

He's still fighting them off, but there is a gaping bite wound on his right arm— rows of teeth marks embedded in his skin.  You feel like you're going to be sick. There is no coming back from this; there's no known cure.  At any point within the next twenty-four hours, he would be another one of the walking dead, no sense, no logic, and looking to consume others. This can't be happening, this can't be happening.  Your heart is sinking with every second that ticks by.

"What the fuck are you waiting for? Get out! Get out!"  Dabi screams at you as he embeds his knife in another zombie.

"No, no, I can't leave without you!  I-we can find something.  I'll find something, please! Come on, Dabi, I can't do this without you!"  You are sobbing now, hot tears streaming through the dirt and blood mixed on your face.  An ache in your heart starts to form.  You know you don't know how to help him, but you'll do anything to not leave him behind.

Dabi lets out a grin despite the feral dead people closing in on him.  And gives you a wink before saying in a voice that seems too calm for the situation, "Come on, doll, you are the most intelligent person I know.  You have to go.  Live for us, babe.  Look at how far we've come.  Go show this world that it won't ever break you down. I love you, and I'll come to find you wherever you are in the afterlife and annoy the shit out of you.  Now go!"

It's like your heart is being ripped into a thousand pieces. Your breath comes out in short huffs, moving towards hyperventilating.  You want to go back to Dabi and cling on for dear life, but you won't let him die in vain.  Not after that speech.  That would be an insult to everything the two of you have overcome.  So with all your strength, you give your lover, the man who has come so far with you, the last look before letting out a final "I love you too" and burst out the door.

You don't look back, aching feet propelling you forward as tears continue to stream and fall off your face.  When you first met Dabi, you would have never thought you'd miss him.  But you will , you'll miss every snarky comment, every flirty glance, and the tender way only he has loved you.  The man that you were sure was just some asshole trying to get laid became the love of your life and sacrificed himself so you could live.  And you could never let that go to waste.

[spacestationdaedalus]

when my demons won’t let me be

or: not in his right state of mind, Jon accidentally compels Martin. It’s not okay, but it’s okay.

or or: i spend so much time reading sick fic and i finally wrote one of my own angst and plenty of hurt/comfort, warnings for canon-typical compulsion and descriptions of panic and disassociation

Martin wakes to a shifting of weight and a cut off breath. It's a hazy half-awareness, coming to him under a snowdrift, on a radio station drowning in dull static.

In a well-practiced motion, Martin extends an arm over the covers to rest on Jon's chest. He doesn't let the full weight fall, not yet. Enough for Jon to know he's there, a touch light enough that Jon can readily push away or lean into. It depends on the particular brand of nightmare, the terror that's chosen to follow him to sleep. Sometimes he sets Martin's arm aside with a gentle squeeze, sitting up against the headboard and taking comfort in the cool bedroom air and the sound of Martin's breathing. At least, in Jon's own words. Other times, he holds Martin's arm to his chest, taking comfort in the weight and warmth of it.

Neither of those things happen, though.

Jon rolls sharply, seemingly ignoring Martin's arm in favor of the other side of the bed. He curls around himself with a low whine, harshly cut off in the back of his throat.

"J'n?" Martin props himself up on one arm. Voice rough with sleep, but no less concerned.

Jon shifts, a back and forth movement that looks like it could be the shaking of his head. His shoulders are taut and trembling. He makes another sound that could be the beginning of a shout, and it brings Martin to full awareness. He moves his hands to Jon's shoulder before he has time to think, desperate to help, to comfort, to something.

"Jon, it's alright-"

“Don’t touch me!” Jon bursts out, dripping and full of static and oh oh oh. It cascades over Martin’s mind, oily and slick. His hands pull away like they've been burned, but numb and far off. As though belonging to a stranger.

He shifts away from Jon and off of the bed, limbs moving robotically to pull back the covers, to move him away until his back meets the bedroom wall. Martin's hands are raised halfway, frozen in a caricature of comfort. A puppet on strings. He wants to move, shout, anything. But the gaze of eyes he can’t see bears down on him, an insurmountable weight holding him in place. Like a butterfly pinned inside a glass display case.

Jon is sitting up, now. Eyes (eyes, eyes, he's all eyes) blown wide, bright and glassy even in the low light of the room. His breathing is ragged and uneven in obvious panic. Even with his hands clenched tight in the front of his nightshirt, Martin can see they’re trembling. Martin’s heart aches and he wants to help but he can’t move and Jon’s eyes are still on him and he can’t breathe and it hurts. And he's afraid. He can hear his pulse pounding in his ears, the eyes are still watching him and it feels so much like burning paper and righteous anger and Elias's face and everything Martin had been trying to forget.

Jon brings up a hand to cover his mouth. Horror and panic clear in his eyes, which Martin knows are reflected in his own. Then Jon backs away, clearly unsteady on shaking legs. Martin's vision starts to blur (when was the last time he blinked?) but he hears Jon's steps fade into the hall. And Martin can do nothing.

The back of Martin's mind still using logic was hoping the feeling would fade once Jon wasn't looking at him. Unfortunately, Martin is used to being proven wrong. Face blank, body rigid, mind screaming.

Autonomy comes back to him slowly, a tingling in his fingertips that trickles down his arms and leaves an awful shakiness in its wake. Nerves making up for lost time, maybe. Trying to catch up with the adrenaline coursing through his veins. A grip Martin wasn't aware of begins to loosen from around his ribcage, and his first real breath in ages is a shuddering gasp. The force of it combined with the jelly replacing his knees sends him sliding to the floor, using the wall for support.

Martin breathes. In. Out. The first breath is molten in his lungs. His eyes water against it, and the second one is even worse. The third leaves as a sob that echoes back at him. In one last betrayal of his body against him, the tears spill over to drip down his cheeks. Martin rests his forehead against his knees and wills himself not to fall apart.

The Lonely was easy, in that regard. For months, Martin didn't have to worry about this kind of thing - the fear and anger and gaping misery that had been following them for so long. But evidently suppressing your trauma with more trauma wasn't a healthy coping mechanism. Go figure.

Leaving the Lonely was hard. Martin had spent most of the first 48 hours oscillating wildly between numb detachment and emotion so overwhelming he thought he would drown in it. Jon helped. He was patient, gentle, all the things Martin thought were too good to be true.

Martin forces himself up as soon as he's able. Maybe sooner, given the way the room sways when he stands. But it passes after a moment, and Martin goes to find Jon.

The house is dark. The occasional creak from the pipes and floors could be off-putting, but compared to everything else, it's benign. He uses fingers brushed against the wall to guide him down the short hallway.

"Jon?" He calls. The floor creaks in response.

Martin reaches the threshold between the hall and the kitchen. The haze of the moon behind thin clouds bleeds through the window above the sink, providing just enough light to see. Martin catches a shadow out of the corner of his eye, but it isn't actually a shadow, and Martin lets himself feel a hint of temporary relief.

Jon is tucked in the corner between two cabinets. Head buried against his bent knees, hands gripping into his hair in a position that mirrors Martin's from mere moments ago. Martin's heart leaps into his throat.

"Oh, Jon." Martin kneels in front of him, slow as to not startle him. If Jon notices, he makes no sign of it.

"Jon?" Martin reaches, but stops halfway. He doesn't want a repeat of before. His palm itches, but he keeps it airborne. Until he knows it's okay.

Jon makes a sound in the back of his throat, one that Martin hasn't heard before. His next inhale is strained and wet and - oh. 

Martin had never seen Jon cry before. Angry, upset, shaken, sure. But not this. It twists something awful and thorny in his chest. Martin wants to hug him, but he keeps the few inches between them.

"Don't-" Jon starts suddenly, and for an awful moment the hairs on the back of Martin's neck stand up on end. But Jon cuts himself off with a keening noise, and curls further into himself. His shoulders are trembling, either from holding back sobs or the biting chill of the poorly-insulated kitchen floor, Martin can't be sure. Probably both.

"I-I'm sorry-" Jon stutters, sounding like each word is a fight to get out. "I-I-I don't - I don't know…"

"Just breathe, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head against his legs. "N-no, you need to-" A sob cuts him off.

"Need to what, love?" The term of endearment slips out naturally on Martin's tongue. If Jon notices, he doesn't say so.

"Leave." The last word crackles slightly in the air, like static electricity threatening a shock. Martin freezes. The compulsion threatens to overtake him, but it's weaker than before. It rings in his skull, and Martin fights it back until it fades to background noise.

Jon whispers, barely audible. "I can't - I can't control it."

Oh.

"Alright, alright…" Martin bites his lip for a moment. Nods to himself.

"Okay, let's just - I'll ask you yes or no questions for now. You can, ah - just nod for yes and shake your head for no. Is that alright?"

Jon's face is still hidden, but that's alright. After a moment, he nods enough for Martin to discern the movement.

"G-good, okay-" Martin pauses, not immediately sure what question to go with first.

"Did you have a nightmare, earlier? Is that what scared you?" Martin silently chides himself for asking two questions, but hopefully it won't matter.

Jon nods.

"Has this happened before? The, uh-" Martin makes a hand motion, but Jon can't see it. "Th-the 'not being able to control the compulsion,' thing?"

There's a pause, then Jon shakes his head. Martin frowns.

"Alright, that's alright. Do you think you can look at me?"

Another pause, longer. Martin doesn't press as the seconds pass. Then Jon slowly raises his head.

Jon's eyes are wide, rimmed with red and dark circles more pronounced than they had been in the last few days. Tears are steadily dripping down his cheeks, flushed dark against his complexion. His lips are pressed tightly together, and Martin can see the barely contained panic mingled with exhaustion in every line of his face.

"Hey." Martin greets, feeling like a small victory. Jon quickly casts his gaze down and to the side, not meeting Martin's eyes. He also moves his hands to wrap around his torso, shivering harshly against the cabinets. Martin frowns again. He racks his brain for the seemingly mundane moments from the previous day. Jon talking less as the day had gone on, his less-than-already-finnicky appetite, going to bed early because he said he was a bit tired. Nothing individually out of the ordinary, not after the hell they'd dragged themselves through just to get here. But-

"Jon, is it alright if I touch you?"

Jon nods almost immediately, but still avoids Martin's eyes. Encouraged, Martin moves carefully to press the back of his hand against Jon's cheek. It's warm - hot, even - to the touch. Martin checks his forehead for good measure, feeling the heat before their skin actually makes contact. Martin's winces in sympathy, moving his hand back to Jon's cheek. He uses both hands, for good measure, to cup Jon's face, and wipe the stray tears still dripping from his lashes.

"Oh, love. You're burning up." Martin says, gently. "That must have something to do with it."

Jon's brow furrows. He brings his own hand up to his face, seemingly to try and feel his own temperature. Martin can't help the quiet laugh.

"First let's get off the floor. 's not exactly comfortable, yeah?" Martin offers. 

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Jon doesn't react, eyes locked in a middle distance between the two of them. But then all at once his expression breaks, and he buries his face in his hands.

Martin's heart leaps into his throat. "Oh, hey, hey-"

Jon's words are muffled by his hands, and broken up by harsh, jagged sobs.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I-I didn't-"

Martin moves forward slightly so he can wrap his arms around Jon. He can feel the shivers wracking Jon's frame, and the heat radiating off of him in waves. Martin tucks Jon's head under his chin, and holds him.

"Hey, it's okay." And it's not a lie. Martin was scared - terrified, to put it lightly. He knows he can't just brush that fear away. But he's not scared of Jon, never has been, never will be. And Martin know Jon, knows him and loves him and knows that he loves him back. Martin thinks that this might be more complicated than that, but right now, with Jon coming apart on the kitchen floor, it feels that simple.

"I know you didn't mean to, Jon. It's alright."

Jon shakes his head weakly in protest. Martin can't make out his exact words, jumbled as they are. But he feels the intent behind them, with the way they reverberate in his chest.

"We can talk about it later, when you're feeling better. But I'm not mad, I promise." Martin runs a hand through Jon's hair. It might have been a braid when Jon first went to bed, but it's mostly undone now. "Right now, I'm just worried about you. That's a nasty fever you're running."

They stay like that for a few minutes more. Jon's form is still a trembling leaf in Martin's arms, shallow and uneven breaths punctured by the occasional apology and stifled cry. Jon's forehead is pressed into his neck, burning like a furnace against Martin's skin.

Martin almost asks Jon if he can walk, but instead-

"Jon, is it alright if I pick you up?"

Jon tenses, and Martin immediately regrets asking. But then Jon nods affirmative, relaxing slightly into Martin's hold. Oh thank god.

Jon fits easily into the bends of Martin's arms, one at his back and one under his knees. Jon's hands clench the front of Martin's shirt, tightening and loosening in an uneven rhythm as Martin stands. It's easy for Martin to carry him the short distance to the bedroom, mindful of the narrow door frames.

The quilt and sheets are pulled back from before, which is helpful now. Martin eases Jon onto the bed. He brushes Jon's hair away from his face in what Martin hopes is a comforting gesture. But Jon still has that faraway, panicky look in his eyes, and Martin has an idea.

"Don't move, alright? I'll be right back, I promise." Martin presses a kiss to Jon's forehead, hoping he heard and understood enough of that to not mind when he leaves the room.

Martin comes back with a damp cloth and a glass of water. And a bottle of pain reliever - one that Martin had originally picked up from the store as an afterthought, but is grateful for now. He sets the glass and bottle on the nightstand and sits gingerly on the edge of the bed. Next to Jon, who hasn't so much as shifted in Martin's admittedly brief absence. Martin lays a hand on Jon's shoulder, but after a moment, moves to Jon's cheek. An olive branch to Jon's clouded awareness.

"Alright, love. I'm gonna lay this on the back of your neck, okay? Can you lean forward a touch for me?" 

Jon doesn't move or otherwise react for a moment, and Martin is almost sure he didn't hear it. But then he pitches forward slightly, and Martin shifts so he can support Jon's weight against his shoulder. He brushes Jon's loose curls to the side, letting his fingers linger there for good measure.

"It's gonna feel really cold, but it'll help. Easy," Martin murmurs, placing the folded cloth on the back of Jon's neck. Jon flinches at the touch, hissing between a groan and a whimper. 

"I know, I know." Martin soothes easily, adding other words of comfort here and there, lost to his memory as soon as they cross his lips. He holds Jon close, taking the chance to comb his fingers again through Jon's bed-moussed hair. He knows Jon likes having his hair played with, so Martin ever so gently works his way through some of the tangles, careful never to pull too hard or too fast. Jon's breaths slow and deepen - still marred by the occasional hitch, but a vast improvement from before. He gradually sinks more of his weight onto Martin's shoulder, until Martin is sure he's the only reason Jon is still upright. But Martin doesn't mind.

"Better?" Martin asks, when Jon's trembling passes and his breaths sound less like someone on the verge of drowning. Jon clears his throat.

"I- yes." He rasps, hardly a whisper. The word pulls a cough out of him, but he keeps going. "Th- thank you."

"Of course." Martin says. He all but beams at the sound of Jon's voice, wretched as it sounds. He considers making tea, but something about the bonelessness of Jon's posture tells him Jon won't be awake long enough to see a cup finished. But he does grab the glass of water from the nightstand, and shifts so Jon can take it in both hands.

"Drink some of that for me." Martin presses, and Jon doesn't argue. Martin reaches for the pain reliever next, shaking two pills out and handing them to Jon. He seems surprised at first, but quietly offers a thank you as he takes them from Martin's hand.

"How are you feeling?" Martin asks. It feels like a stupid question, but one of those stupid questions that you just have to ask in lieu of anything else.

"I'm-" Martin knows Jon is about to say I'm alright and something in his face must stop Jon from finishing, because he cuts himself off with a sigh. He presses the heel of his palm into his eye, suppressing a wince. "To - to be honest, uh, quite terrible."

The frankness of it could almost be funny, but Martin's heart aches instead. "I'm sorry. The medicine should help, at least."

Even without his glasses, Martin can make out the two in the hour place of the digital clock on the nightstand, and yeah, it's time for bed.

"And some proper sleep."

Jon nods, eyelids heavy. Martin takes the half-empty glass from his hand, and encourages Jon to lie back with a gentle push. Martin joins him on the other side of the bed, pulling the covers back over the two of them. He leans, partially sitting up against the headboard, inviting Jon into the place at his side if he wants it.

Jon fills the space immediately, burrowing his face into Martin's shoulder. Arms curled in front of him, pressed into Martin's side. He sighs softly. Martin watches the last of the tension bleed out of Jon's face, eyes closed. Jon's fever leaves Martin's side overly warm in minutes, but Martin can't bring himself to mind.

He's sure Jon is already asleep, but-

"M-rtin?"

"What is it, Jon? Do you need something?"

Jon makes a negative sound into Martin's shoulder, shaking his head. It's quiet for a moment, save for their breathing.

"I love you."

Martin freezes, and the response comes as naturally as an inhale after an exhale.

"I love you too."

[peachyteez]

 harmless pranks ≫ DAY ONE, WOOYOUNG?!

this mischevious dolphin hybrid escaped an illegal experiment lab and has wandered the ocean for almost a year. all he longed for was love and attention—maybe even a family. who knew his “little” prank on jiyu would be the beginning to all of his wishes being granted.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminpeachy, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight, @everrrlasting, @bls-luv-me, @atzgiggle, @arohabyeol, @rainbowmagicpixecorn, @soverystupid, @ayetothezee, @kingalls00, @sanstreasure0305, @sparklingmallow, @kpopnightingale, @rosesarethebest, @stillcantfindaproperusername, @bonbonhwa, @its-sarah-stark, @sanismybb, @frankenstein852, @peachseok, @woopetals, @exhofayemars, @pvrkacciosan, 

✧ can’t be tagged: @alienmashup, @c-sanshine, @int0chae

✧ notes: surprise! i know i scheduled the release for may 7th, but thought i’d release it a little early :)

next。

“i can’t believe you’re up and leaving us for a month,” yeonjun sarcastically commented while helping her lug her last luggage into the mercedes van that sunwoo had been so generous enough to send to pick them up. “and from the looks of it, it doesn’t look like soobin, beomgyu, and taehyun are going to let go of the others.”

and true to his word, she looked over to see them gathered in a group hug. beomgyu clung onto yunho with teary eyes, he’s never been separated from him for a month before. yunho gently pat the younger puppy’s head with a small smile. 

she chuckled at the heartwarming scene. “guys, you’ll still be able to call and facetime. and you’re acting like we’re never coming back! we’re only going to jeju island.”

“but what if you run away with this person because they’re rich?” beomgyu asked, ignorant to her background. at his question, the other boys gasped and whipped their heads over to her. 

her smile slightly faltered, forgetting that they don’t know of her origins. she knew she’d have to come clean someday—maybe this trip was the right time to tell. 

“don’t be ridiculous, of course we are,” she gently reprimanded before coming over to ruffle beomgyu’s hair. “beomgyu’s imagination is just running a tad bit wild.”

pouting, beomgyu shifted from yunho to engulf her in a bear hug. 

“soobin and i’ll make sure beomgyu doesn’t grow any grey hairs while worrying about you guys,” taehyun jokingly reassured. he knew beomgyu well enough, even though he was an addition to the family a month ago.  

“miss, it’s about time to depart to the airport,” the driver informed with a bow. 

with a nod, she rubbed beomgyu’s head. “okay, we need to go now, bub. we’ll message you when we get there, okay?”

reluctantly nodding, beomgyu let her go. he joined soobin, taehyun, and yeonjun to see them off, waving until they not longer saw the black vehicle. 

in the car, yunho, mingi, san, and yeosang were fascinated with how fancy the interior was. there were two rows of two seats, and row with three seats in the back. the seats were so comfortable, and it was so roomy; an environment unfamiliar to the hybrids. while seonghwa and yunho knew somewhat of her background, the others wondered how she managed to afford something like this. 

“is your friend rich?” san asked, looking back to face jiyu. seating arrangements were decided by an intense game of rock-paper-scissors. in the end, yeosang and hongjoong sat in front, mingi and san were in the middle row, and jiyu was squished in between yunho and seonghwa in the back. 

“that’s one way of putting it, yes.” in truth, she was worried about how they would react to her and sunwoo’s background. most of them had come from influential families or illegal organizations to begin with. having terrible memories with them, would they change once they knew who she really was?

“but don’t worry, he’s really nice! he has a hybrid friend of his own, too. i think he said a german shepard hybrid.” yunho seemed to perk up at the thought of meeting another dog hybrid. 

“hm...if you say so. if you trust him, then we do, too,” hongjoong said before getting comfortable in the seat. 

upon arriving at the airport, the van immediately took them to the runway where a private plane was parked and waiting. she assumed it was sunwoo’s. the boys plastered their faces against the van windows at the sight of the plane. they’ve never been on one before, hence their childlike fascination. 

“are we really going on that?” san asked with excitement. “i love your friend already,” he teasingly commented. 

jiyu softly chuckled as the van came to a stop. hopping out, she saw sunwoo standing at the entrance to the plane with a hybrid she assumed was eric. catching sight of jiyu, he started climbing down the stairs. she smiled and waved to him, an action he returned with a small chuckle. 

“were you waiting long?”

he shook his head. “don’t worry, we came ten minutes ago. eric’s been eager to meet you and your—” seeing the six hybrids behind her filing out of the van, his eyes widened. he knew she had hybrids, but he didn’t really know what to expect. “you have six?”

she sheepishly chuckled. “yeah...i hope you don’t mind. they won’t bite if that’s what you’re worried about.”

on the contrary, sunwoo didn’t mind at all; it actually made her a hundred times cooler in his eyes if anything. he’s never met a girl who managed to befriend six different hybrid breeds. but then again, with her job, he should’ve seen it coming. despite that, she just kept surprising him with who she is. 

“guys, this is sunwoo,” she called out to the boys. “he’s the friend i was talking about!” 

while the boys acquainted themselves with sunwoo, the german shepard hybrid approached jiyu with a friendly smile. “hi, i’m eric! although i think sunwoo told you plenty about me already.”

jiyu giggled at the boy’s abundance of energy. “he has mentioned you a few times. i’m jiyu.”

eric enthusiastically nodded. “i’ve heard about you a lot, too! sunwoo didn’t stop talking about you for a whole week after your first meeting.”

jiyu felt her face flush at the new piece of information. “a week—”

“ji! sunwoo said there’s also video games on the plane!”

before eric could continue exposing sunwoo, yunho came bounding up to her with the others in tow. with their calm and excited demeanor, she assumed that they managed to feel relaxed and at home with sunwoo, which made her happy and relieved. 

“is that so?” she mused, rubbing the spot behind his ears. yunho nodded and giggled, pushing his head into jiyu’s hands. eric glanced at sunwoo and couldn’t help the smirk on his face at the sight of the soft look on his friend’s face. 

snapping out of his reverie, sunwoo cleared his throat. “we should get going.”

the plane ride nothing out of the ordinary—the boys were getting to know eric, while jiyu and sunwoo caught up over a glass of champagne. 

“so it seems like your friends don’t know about you yet?” sunwoo inquired. “i told eric to keep his mouth shut about it just in case.”

softly shaking her head, she quietly glanced at the hybrid group that had passed out not too long ago after expending all of their energy. “only seonghwa and yunho know about it. i never found the right time to tell the others but this trip might be it.”

mingi had sleepily wandered over towards them and plopped down next to her before laying his head on her lap. within a few minutes, his breath evened out again. 

an endearing chuckle left her lips as she threaded her fingers through his faded red hair. “ah, you big baby,” she cooed. 

sunwoo watches her with a soft smile on his face. he watches the way she gently lulls the giant bunny to sleep, the mother-like smile on her face, the gentle aura she exudes—he could go on and on. she was completely different from what he had been expecting. while they had a few brief meetings during company gatherings, she always had a blank expression, never smiling nor frowning. it was almost like she was more robot than human.

when his parents had informed him of his future marriage with her, he didn’t know how to react. a part of him would’ve been lying if he had denied feeling the tiniest bit of disdain at his fate.

but lo and behold, she managed to leave him soft and charmed with every meeting, even if this was only their second one. 

“sir, ma’am, we’ll be landing in about ten minutes. please fasten your seatbelts.” 

his pilot’s voice managed to break him out of his thoughts, leaving him to scramble to sit up straighter and cool his flushed face. 

“i should wake them up,” jiyu said, completely unaware of sunwoo’s dilemma. softly shaking mingi’s shoulder, she gently prodded him awake before relaying the pilot’s message to him. padding over to the others, she did the same.

sunwoo sighed before buckling in his own seatbelt. he needed to keep himself in check around her before he accidentally does something that would embarrass himself. this is going to be a long month.

upon arriving at the private vacation home, jiyu was already bombarded with the youngers’ pleas to go to the beach. luckily for them, the vacation home was just down the street from the beach, giving them easy access to visit whenever they wanted. 

“i’m really sorry, i hope you don’t mind,” she apologized to sunwoo for the fact that they were going to the beach the moment they put their bags down. “if you’re tired, you can stay. i can take—”

sunwoo’s soft chuckle made her pause mid-sentence. she didn’t know he was capable of making such a melodious sound. while she was still living in the main house, her friends had painted him to be an aloof person. and even from what she saw at company dinners. the daughters of other elites were always throwing themselves at him, offering him drinks and their company. 

yet every singe time without fail, he would coldly reject them.

so when yuta had told her that he was the one her father set her up with, she was doubtful if they could even be civil with each other. 

“it’s fine, i’ll go with you and the others. eric’s been pestering me to go, too so it works out.”

the soft and friendly expression was just proof to her that maybe, just maybe, she had been judging the facade he puts up.

“oh, okay then!” she smiled before scurrying to her room to change. “let’s meet back here when we’re ready!”

watching her excited like a child to go to the ocean, he couldn’t contain the smile that he had been biting back. he was glad that they could at least be friends despite the circumstances.

“stop staring at her door and go change, loverboy.”

he was bought back to reality by his best friend’s quip. throwing him a half-hearted glare, he trudged to his room. “i wasn’t staring.” even his protest was weak. 

eric couldn’t help the smirk that crosses his face. he’s known his best friend long enough to know that he never gets like this around girls. “this should be an interesting trip.”

by the time they all met back up to leave, it was two p.m.—a prime time for the sun to be out and bestowing them with it’s heat on their short walk to the beach.

“it’s the ocean!” yunho shouted with utter glee and happiness as he and eric raced each other across the sand and to the water. the others ran after them, even san who ended up straying on shore and dipping his feet in the water. hongjoong joined him as he watched over the others in the water. 

jiyu and sunwoo had found a group of beach chairs under a big umbrella and tossed their bags down. stretching her limbs, jiyu sprawled out on a chair and closed her eyes for a brief moment. hearing the ocean waves along with the cheerful shouts of the boys in the water made her smile with content. 

cracking an eye open, she caught sunwoo throwing off the white t-shirt he had on and shaking his head afterward to fix his hair. her eyes raked over his body against her own will. his lean figure, the define abs lined on his stomach, and the hints of muscles on his arm only served to have a volcano of butterflies erupt in her stomach. 

“everything okay?” he asked, leaning down towards her face.

looking away from his piercing gaze, she jumped up and quickly discarded her own outerwear before speed-walking towards the water. “yep! just great!” she definitely didn’t miss the smirk that was threatening to take over his face. 

sunwoo smirked before running to catch up with her. he couldn’t help but take note of the red two-piece she was sporting. a part of him wanted to throw his earlier discarded t-shirt over her to give her coverage from other people’s gazes that were lingering just a bit too long, but he bit back his own desire.

after all, they were just budding friends who were about to be stuck in an arranged, and potentially loveless, marriage.

but that didn’t stop him from lifting her up and tossing her into the water.

emerging back up, she had to rub her eyes to get rid of the salt water before throwing a glare towards the laughing culprit.

“kim sunwoo!” she stood up and crossed her arms across her chest like an angry child. 

“i had to—hey!”

too busy caught up in his own laughter, he failed to notice the wolf hybrid sneaking up behind him to exact revenge for jiyu. emerging up next to jiyu, shook his head to remove excess water out of his hair before looking for his culprit. seeing the proudly-smiling seonghwa on shore with his hands on his hips, he let out snort. 

“alright, you got me.”

she burst into giggles before floating on her back. looking up at the sky, there were no hints of clouds—just the endless blue that seemed to stretch out for miles on end. feeling someone tug her feet, she perked her head up to see yeosang pulling her. 

“you were floating too far out,” he informed before lightly flicking her forehead. “watch out before you float away and we’re stranded here without you,” he added with a chuckle, just barely missing the splash of water that jiyu retaliated with, before swimming off back to yunho and mingi. 

“he seems fun to be around,” sunwoo said as swam up to join her. “he reminds me of eric, only more sass.”

“yeah, i never know where his sass comes from—”

she was cut off by a huge splash of water from behind that had not only hit her, but also sunwoo. turning around, she expected it to be yeosang, san, or eric.

but no one was behind them. 

sunwoo furrowed his eyebrows. the hybrid group was at least twenty feet away from them—there was no way any of them could’ve done it since he and jiyu would’ve heard them swimming off or laughing. 

“that’s odd, who—ah!”

before jiyu could finish her sentence, a pair of arms grabbed her waist and yanked her underwater. having no time to react, she felt herself being tugged away as they started swimming with her in tow.

sunwoo swore his heart almost stopped; whether it be from the fact that it all happened so quickly or the fact that jiyu could potentially be drowning, he didn’t know. he didn’t have time to know.

“oi, what the—!”  

his scream caught the others attention. looking over, they sunwoo looking frantic pulling something up from under the water. 

but there was no jiyu. 

they all swam over with urgency, fearing something went wrong.

“where is she?” hongjoong asked, brows furrowing with panic. the others looked ready to fight what or whoever took jiyu, even yunho and mingi even though they both looked on the verge of crying. 

“something pulled her down and just...swam away!”

meanwhile, underwater, jiyu was having a ball trying to fight off what or whoever pulled her down. it was definitely a person—she felt the arms around her waist and the hard chest that was tightly pressed against her back. looking behind her she managed to make out a male with majestic, black with gold highlights. 

the lack of air snapped her back to reality from her gawking and she stared to try and pry the man’s hands off of her. as if catching onto her message, he quickly brought her back up to the surface. 

inhaling like her life depended on it and coughing out some water, she turned around and glared at whoever decided to try and almost drown her.

but before she could her a word out, she was blown away by how...pretty the man staring back at her was. with his hair tucked behind his ears, it framed his face perfectly, showing off his distinct and defined facial features.

but something else caught her eye. 

the lower half of his body was a tail. eyes flicking back and forth from the man’s face to the tail, her mouth opened and closed like fish out of water.

“a fish h-hybrid..?”

“oi, jiyu!” 

at the sound of her name, she looked behind the man to see everyone swimming up to her. it turned out that they weren’t that far away from shore—the man, or hybrid, just took her along the shoreline rather than farther out like she had originally thought. 

the unknown hybrid just watched as the seven other hybrids and sunwoo crowded her to make sure she was okay. yeosang profusely apologized, saying “i know i joked about you floating away and stranding us, but i didn’t mean to make that a reality”.

sunwoo ruffled her wet hair, breathing out a sigh of relief. “you scared me there. i thought i was going to lose you on the first day here.”

“huh? yeosang?”

at the sound of his name, yeosang turned around and practically fainted. he literally swam past him, how did he manage to miss the extremely familiar face.  he stared at the underwater hybrid, wide-eyed, like he had witnessed another miracle from the universe. the unknown man mirrored yeosang’s look.

“wooyoung?!”

[supercorpkid]

It’s crossover season – Part 2.

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Bucky x TeamMate!Reader, Falcon x TeamMate!Reader, Vision x TeamMate!Reader, Wanda x TeamMate!Reader.

Word count: 2675.

Previously on the series - part 1

“What do you mean no one can lift Thor’s hammer?” You ask Cap, who puts his arms around you with a little smile. “Is it made by a million tons of condensed dwarf star?”

“Is it what? No, nothing like that. It’s a long story.” He says guiding you back inside. “The important part is that you just showed everyone how worthy you are.” You smile at the compliment. “Do you mind training a little, before the big fight? I just want to make sure you’re in sync with the rest of the team.”

“Yeah. I would love that.” You agree with your head and Cap guides you to a large room with a bunch of new people you don’t know.

“Guys, this is Superkid. She is back-up for the fight that is to come.” Cap says and you smile shyly, looking at everyone staring at you. “Remember that we’re facing a strong and big army, and any help is more than welcomed.” He looks back at you. “Now onto work.”

You agree with your head, and he leaves. You look at a guy with wings coming out of his suit and nod.

“Nice wings.” You smile politely. He agrees with his head.

“Thank you! Nice…” He looks at you for a second and you finally notice what you’ve been wearing all along. Your momma’s old college T-shirt, and sweatpants.

“Oh, sorry!” You change into your super suit using your super speed and go back to the same place you were.

“So, you’re fast.” He says like he has deciphered you. “I’m Sam, aka Falcon.” He points at himself. “Red guy over there is Vision.” You look up to see an actual red guy flying.

“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He says from up there.

“Yeah. You too.” You look back at Sam, pointing at the only other girl in the room.

“That’s Wanda.”

“Cool. Hi Wanda!” You wave at her and she kind of waves, kind of nods at you, but doesn’t quite do any.

“Bucky.” Sam says at the guy coming closer with a frown on his face.

“Are we going to kindergartens to pick up heroes now?” It’s what Bucky says, when he gets closer to you and you roll your eyes. Not another one questioning your abilities because of your age.

“Nice arm.” You point at his metal arm with a smile. “Is that your superpower? You have a metal arm?”

“Funny.” He frowns while Sam laughs at him.

“Come on, kid. Time to show us what you’ve got.” Sam says and they all walk to the same side, leaving you alone in the other.

“So, it’s all of you against me?” You furrow your brows and they smile.

“Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you.” Bucky says with a blank face, and you shrug.

Falcon is the first to come at you. Wings up, flying towards you, with a gun in hand. He doesn’t shoot, but he doesn’t catch you either. You fly up, and when he passes down on you, you throw your body back at him, making him fall on the ground. He uses his wings to protect himself from the fall and rolls to the other side of the room.

Next, Bucky comes at you. You know he’s more of a combat guy. That’s not your fighting style, you are aware. You were never really good at that, so you should avoid it. He comes in, metal arm ready to punch you and you hold his hand before it hits your face. You don’t know what this metal is, but it’s very strong, and a lot harder to break than you thought. Still, you make an effort to at least make a dent in it.

“Stop!” He pulls his arm away from your grip. “This is expensive, kid. Don’t break it.”

“Sorry.” You look at the little dent you made in it and smile apologetic. “I’ll go easy on you.”

But your time with Bucky is over, because Vision is coming at you now. He flies towards you at full speed, but he doesn’t have his fist closed. He is not going to punch you. Instead, he hits you with some kind of yellow ray, and you look at your hands glowing yellow, and feel your entire body shivering like you just got a blast of excitement.

“What is this?” You ask him, and he stops. Surprised you’ve taken such a hit, without running from it.

“Solar energy?” He asks, landing in front of you. “You were not supposed to take the hit, I thought you would move away from it.”

“Solar energy?” You smile. “Cool, man. That’s how I get my powers. And you just blast me with the strongest sunlight I’ve ever seen. I bet I’m even stronger now!”

Just to test it, you punch the floor, making a hole all around you. You notice, kind of too late, that this is probably the second time you’ll cause structural damage to a room, when you hear the windows breaking, making glass fly everywhere. Just a second later you hear the walls starting to give in and soon they’re crumbling down.

You look around, before the ceiling falls on top of you, to see the rest of ‘the Avengers’, and pick them up to save them from it. But you’re a second too late, because soon, there’s a red energy force around you, and before you blink, you’re thrown away, along with everyone else from the team to the field next to it.

You roll on the floor, stopping a little further away from everyone else, and you look at the now destroyed room you were all inside.

“I’m sorry.” You look at them feeling a little embarrassed. That was too much. You went too far. “Did I mess up big time?”

“Oh no, don’t worry. Who here never destroyed an entire reinforced training space?” Sam says, sounding a little bit too ironic, and you don’t know if he maybe meant it as a joke, or to try to make you feel better. Either way, you think this isn’t the first time you’ve destroyed your training place. “Besides, Tony’s a billionaire.” He says standing up, and you look up to Wanda, landing in front of you, and offering her hand to help you up.

“Thanks for getting us out of there.” You smile and she agrees with her head.

“Yeah, sure. Just don’t destroy the other side of the compound. That’s where we sleep.” She smiles and you agree with your head.

“I’m not mad.” You hear behind you, and you turn around to look at Mister Stark himself looking at the mess you made. “I just want to know who did it.” He takes off his sunglasses just to stare at you. “Let me guess, smart mouth over here is not only great at talking back, but she is also a destruction weapon?”

“In my defense…” You try, knowing there’s absolutely no defense for what you just did. “Vision hit me with solar energy, and you know that’s where my powers come from.”

He sighs, looking at you one last time, before putting his sunglasses back. If you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed the little smile on the corner of his lips.

“Where should I send the bill to?” He asks walking past you and you know it’s a rhetorical question, but you still roll your eyes and answer.

“L Corp.”

“Not a real place. But nice try.” If you didn’t have super hearing, you wouldn’t have caught that. “Wanda, do you mind showing our little troublemaker where she’s staying tonight? I hope we’re lucky enough that she won’t destroy that.”

“Come on.” Wanda points at the other side of the compound. “Let’s fly there.”

Wanda leads you to the other wing of the compound and shows you an empty bedroom you can stay in. You sit on the bed feeling relentless. There’s too much going on in your head, you would sound crazy if you try to put it into words.

It’s weird being here. It’s your first thought. But it’s also nice. You’re used to being around super-heroes. You were never a stranger to the saving lives and saving the world concept. It’s been like this ever since you were born, and you never knew another life. But whatever this is, it’s not what you’re used to. This is not a house, you understand that by looking around, this is a safe place. Sort of like the Fortress of Solitude. But instead of solitude, you find that there’s so many people around. What you’re feeling right now is anything, but loneliness.

So many superheroes with different abilities, all living together, training, making each other better. People with so many backgrounds. You were so scared they could find out you’re half alien, and then Thor waltzes in looking like he just belongs on this Earth, and you find peace. For the first time the thought of you being half alien is not scary. You’re not scared if they know that. In fact, you want them to know that.

You want them to know you, and you want to know them. You want to hear all about Thor’s hammer and why apparently no one else in this house can lift it, no matter how strong they are.

“It’s called Mjölnir.” Wanda says and you look at your door with wide eyes. You earn a soft chuckle in response. “The fact why no one can’t lift it, it’s because there’s some Asgardian protection and only who’s worthy can lift it.”

“Worthy of what?” You ask and she shrugs, walking to the chair in front of your bed.

“I guess who has a pure heart or good intentions?” Wanda waves it off, and you agree with your head. “Honestly, you have immense power. I guess the fact that you’re a kid also helps with the ‘pure heart’ part.”

“Like you’re that much older.” You roll your eyes, and Wanda smiles again. She must be only four years older than you. It’s not that big of a difference. And yet, here she is. Part of ‘the Avengers’. Fighting, being a back-up for everyone. While you just keep destroying training centers like a big stupid mess.

“Hey, stop that.” Wanda says and you raise your eyes to stare her. “You’re not a big stupid mess.”

“And you can stop reading my thoughts, please.”

“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong anyways. I wasn’t always back-up. In fact, I was once someone they were fighting against.” She breathes deep after that. You furrow your brows.

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.” She bites her lips while fidgeting with her rings. “No one here is perfect. Everyone has a past where they did something they shouldn’t have.”

“Oh really? Even Mister Playboy?” You ask.

“Especially him. He made his money by selling weapons that were used by the bad guys. He might be a genius, but his money? I don’t really like to think about where that came from.”

“Sam? Bucky?”

“Sam was military, so I bet he’s done a lot. Bucky was literally brainwashed and has killed a long list of people by the command of a huge bad organization.” Wanda adds, and you furrow your brows taking some time to absorb her words. “Just-” She makes her way to sit in bed with you. “I know you feel bad for destroying the training center, and honestly you don’t have to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you all have such intense-” You look at her to see her reaction to the word. She hums in agreement. “Pasts.” You think about Kara. “I’m not very familiar with that.”

“How come?”

“Well, my momma is from a planet called Krypton and it exploded. So, she was sent to Earth, not this one,” you make sure to add. “She always did good. I think she sort of felt like she had to, ‘cause Earth was welcoming her after the loss of her planet, you know?”

“She never made a mistake?” Wanda raises her eyebrow and you think about a few times Kara was affected with red Kryptonite and sure, she made a few mistakes back there, but none was intentional. She was never fully conscious and chose to do so. You shake your head in denial. “Ooof, it must be hard. Is it only the two of you?”

“No. There’s my other mom. She came from a family of villains. My uncle is just always out to kill me and my momma, because we’re aliens.” You say, not aware why you’re telling this girl you just met everything about your life. “But, despite all that, my mom is good. She’s a genius who just makes stuff to make my Earth better.”

“I see now why you’re worthy of Thor’s hammer and the rest of us aren’t.” She chuckles and you give her a forced smile.

“I’m not so good. Not like they want, anyways.” You say and Wanda agrees with her head, like she understands you.

“You know something I learned when I joined the Avengers?” You look at her with puzzling eyes. “You can’t always be good. It’s impossible. The world isn’t black and white, things are not easy like that. You can try to do good as much as you’d like, but sometimes you think you’re on the good side, and you’re not. At all.” She really seems to be talking about her own experiences here. “There’s this grey area and sometimes we find ourselves there.”

“And then what do we do?” You are really interested, because maybe you’re in this grey area.

“We survive and we go on.” She shrugs. “That’s the only thing we can do.”

Go on. That’s her advice. She goes on. That’s not something Kara and Lena would say to you. They would’ve said the only thing you can do, is do your best. Do better. Fight your way out of this grey area. They would never have told you to just survive, and just go on. But here’s the thing, sometimes just surviving is you already doing your best.

You stare at Wanda’s face and hum in agreement. She’s right. And the best part? She wouldn’t force you to do better, but just to go on.

“Wow, you’re really wise for someone your age.” You are legit impressed with her. She smiles at you.

“I have been through a lot of pain and losses.” Her expression immediately saddens at that, and you can only imagine what she’s been through. “It forced me out of my youth.”

“Sorry about that, Wanda.”

“Yeah.” She shrugs, getting up, and she points to the door in front of yours. “I’m in that room, in case you need something. Just rest a little. Tomorrow will probably be the hardest day of your life.”

Wanda leaves your bedroom and you look around, breathing deep. Man, aren’t you far from home?

You think about Kara and Lena, and you hope they’re not worried about you. Because this might sound weird, but it feels good to be here. It feels like this is where you are actually supposed to be right now.

Post-credit scene:

“This is it?” Kara says landing in front of a door, putting Lena next to her. Lena picks up the card again and looks at it.

“This is it. 177A Bleecker St.” She agrees with her head.

“There’s nothing inside.” Kara walks in the front door, giving it a push strong enough to open it even though it is locked. They walk in an empty building, covered with dust and silence. “She’s not here. There’s nothing here.”

“Kara.” Lena calls and Kara turns around to look at her. Both have watery eyes, and hearts beating out of their chest. “I want my baby.”

“I want her too.” Kara says, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders, bringing her closer. “I’m gonna find her. I will find you, little one. I’ll find you.”

[heeberry]

It’s Not What You Think

(Loona) Jung Jinsoul x Female!Reader

Requested: yes!

Berry: Hello may I ask for Jinsoul x fem!reader angst where reader spends time with a member a bit too much cause they're planning a surprise for Jinsoul but JInsoul ends up thinking reader is cheating and confronts them about it. Reader feels conflicted and says smth along the lines of "Im not that kind of person" but they make up after a long ass deliberation. Sorry if it's a bit much, thank you!!

A/n: don’t worry berry it wasn’t too much at all!! Sorry for writing this late </3 it’s a tiny bit rushed so if you don’t like it let me know and I’ll write it again :]

Jinsoul crossed her arms, slumped up against the couch. She huffed, watching you and Chaewon huddled on the couch across from her, giggling and doing things on the computer.

The Tv was just background music to her at this point, her eyes drilling a hole between you and Chaewon. You glanced at the girl, but soon looked back at the computer, her gaze was enough to tell you that she wasn’t having it. It sure was scary to you, not familiar with her angry side. Jinsoul was usually sweet and affectionate, but what you saw was the complete opposite, which you knew why, but you can’t really do anything about it at the moment.

“Y/n ignore her, we have to focus” Chaewon snapped you out of your thoughts, you nodded at her words, going back to picking out decorations online.

Jinsoul’s birthday was just tomorrow, so to show some appreciation you decided to throw a party for her. You picked Chaewon to help you since she’d been hanging out with Jinsoul often, and because you two were the closest ones in the dorm.

At first Jinsoul didn’t mind, she knew how close the two of you were so she let you be. But as time passed she noticed how less you spent time with her, which made her heart ache.

“Should we get those confett shooters?”

“Why not” you laughed, adding it to your chart.

After checking the items out and paying you turned to Chaewon. “Do you think Jinsoul’s mad at me right now?” You suddenly asked.

Chaewon glanced at Jinsoul, she was talking to Heejin but her expression still showed how upset she was. Chaewon turned back to you, with a slight smile, “yeah probably” she paused “still don’t let that get in the way right now, the decorations are coming tomorrow so we have to plan out how we’re gonna surprise Jinsoul”

You nodded, though there was something telling you that talking to her won’t hurt, it’s not like your avoiding her with bad intentions. “I’ll just talk to her for a few” you whispered after noticing Heejin leaving and going towards the kitchen.

“Jinsoul!” You cheered, climbing on her to give her a tight hug. “Are you okay?”

Jinsoul kept her mouth shut, she tried not letting the warmth of the hug get to her. As much as she was desperate to wrap her arms around you she contained it, wanting to let you know how upset she was.

You cup her face, turning it to face you. “What happened? Why aren’t you talking?”

Jinsoul scoffed at your words, brushing your hands off. She pulled you off of her, getting up without a word and leaving.

You felt a pang in your heart, you must’ve really made her upset. Tomorrow was her birthday too, and having this happen wasn’t apart of the plan.

Walking back to Chaewon with a frown, you hugged your best friend. She pats your head, witnessing the whole scene. “It’s okay y/n, she won’t stay mad at you for long. Your her girlfriend anyway.”

Chaewon put an arm around you, squeezing your cheeks. “She’ll probably be like, oh my baby y/n! I’m so sorry for being mad, this is amazing!” You laughed at Chaewon’s words as she continued, “thank you so much! Seriously babe, I wasn’t expecting this!” Pointing at the computer as if there was something valuable actually there.

You kept laughing with her, eyes closed shut and holding your stomach. She knew how to comfort you for sure, as she soon laughed with you.

As much as the two of you were having a good time, someone in the corner surely wasn’t. Jinsoul stared, stunned at what she just heard. “Did she just? Call y/n, babe?” She mumbled to herself, recalling Chaewon’s words and use of physical affection.

Now Jinsoul knew she had to do something. Her heart immediately smashed into pieces, like a hammer hitting glass. She felt like she was stepping on lava, feeling betrayed and hurt.

She walked into her room, the door slamming so loud that the two of you were awoken from your own little worlds.

You cleared the tears on your face, “alright Chae, let’s inform the others about what their roles are”

...

The next day rolled around and you felt excited. Removing the covers off of you and heading towards Jinsoul’s room to greet her a happy birthday. You knocked twice and opened the door, greeted by the coolness of the ac that was in her room. You jumped on her bed, “Jinsoul get up!” You laughed. Ruffling her hair as she woke up.

Her face dropped when she saw you, but you didn’t seem to notice. “Happy birthday babe!” You cheered, peppering her face with kisses.

Though Jinsoul didn’t seem as excited as you, pulling you away from her face she got up without a word. You stared at her, “the silent treatment again?” You frowned.

You couldn’t tell how upset she was, surely you did spend less time with her but that usually happens whenever the both of you are busy anyway, how come she’s suddenly like this now?

“Jinsoul!” You whined, grabbing her hand before she stepped out the door, “why are you suddenly ignoring me?”

Jinsoul kept her anger inside, if she dared to open her mouth she knew she’d explode. You pushed her around and attempted to hug her, Jinsoul just stood, letting it all happen.

Soon enough you grew tired and annoyed, “can you just tell me what happened to you?” You snapped. “You’ve been ignoring me since yesterday giving me the silent treatment, what’s up with that?”

Jinsoul turned to you with a scoff, “are kidding me?”

You raised an eyebrow, “what?”

“You’ve been the one ignoring me! What’s up with that” she mimicked, “since last week you’ve been clinging onto Chaewon like I don’t exist”

“God every single day I’ve seen you with her and the two of you are giggling like there’s no tomorrow” Jinsoul’s voice kept getting higher and higher, with each word hitting you in the face.

“I mean at first I didn’t mind of course since she’s your best friend but yesterday was where the line was crossed” Jinsoul yelled, ruffling her own hair.

She paused, her vision becoming more blurry from the tears forming in her eyes. She sniffled before pointing a finger, “YOU CHEATED ON ME”

You gasped but before you could even speak Jinsoul cut you.

“I saw it all L/n Y/n. Chaewon calling you babe to the two of you acting all lovey dovey. Don’t act like you guys didn’t do that yesterday because I saw it with my own two eyes!”

“Jinsoul I-”

“Don’t Jinsoul me, I don’t care about your explanation. What I saw was as clear as day and for that we’re breaking up right here and now” Jinsoul snapped, “Don’t you dare try coming to me again, go hang out with your new girlfriend.”

Jinsoul headed towards the door, which made you panic, forgetting what things were prepared outside. “Wait Jinsoul!” You yelled, yanking her away from the door.

It was now the other way around, you stood in front of her with tears in your eyes. “Soulie please here me out, it’s not what you think! Please”

Jinsoul leaned against the bed, a sigh escaping her lips. She kept her tough imagine outside but inside was filled with hurt and sorrow. Not only did she caught you with Chaewon, seeing you like this also made her weak in the knees. But she kept it in, gesturing you to talk.

“I swear I didn’t cheat on you” you paused to wipe the tears that spilled down your eyes like a waterfall. “What you saw yesterday was Chaewon mimicking you I promise!”

“But why?”

“Because we were getting things for you and while doing so we started talking about you”

Jinsoul scoffed again, “yeah right like I’ll believe such a thing now”

She walked towards the door again, leaving you crying on the floor. Jinsoul opened the door to see Chaewon and the others with party hats on. Usually on birthdays you’d cheer and scream, but this moment in particular wasn’t what they did.

It was silent, the members heard everything. They stood there with frowns or blank faces. The house was decorated with balloons and all sorts of things. A cake sat perfectly on the table, candles sitting on it with the words, “Happy Birthday Jinsoul!” Written in blue, the color she liked.

Jinsoul’s jaw dropped when she saw everything decorated. Chaewon frowned, breaking the silence. “we were together to plan out your birthday”

She turned to you, your cheeks puffed out and eyes bloodshot red from continuessly crying.

Jinsoul looked at her members apologetically before going towards you. Closing the door behind her, she crouched down to hug you.

“Well what now?” Yeojin spoke, breaking the silence. “I think we should go, things will get better later so let’s leave them alone for now” Haseul replied.

“what about the activities we planned?” Yerim added, “we didn’t make reservations for nothing”

“We’ll do what we planned later stupid, they need each other right now” Heejin said, rushing the members to sit in the living room and wait.

Meanwhile you smacked Jinsoul, “I told you! I told you we weren’t doing anything romantic” you frowned, “why would you even accuse me of cheating when I literally cling onto you 24/7?”

Jinsoul kissed you, “I’m so sorry for yelling at you, I knew I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that”

You shook your head, “it isn’t your fault, I mean, I was technically the one ignoring you but only because I didn’t wanna accidently spoil the surprise for you”

Jinsoul grabbed your hand, getting you up on your two feet before smiling at you. “Let’s pretend that never happened yea?”

You nodded, and Jinsoul pecked you on the lips. “Next time I’ll hear you out instead of yelling at you like a total idiot”

“Yeah you definitely should next time”

Once the door of Jinsoul’s room opened it was like nothing never really happened. The members stood there shooting confetti and shouting happy birthday.

You laughed at their antics, turning to Jinsoul to give her a rightful kiss. “Happy Birthday my love, and don’t you ever think I’d cheat on you”

[strawbabysimp]

Sous-Chef || Jealous!Zoro x Reader

Genre: Light Angst

Category: Jealous!Zoro x GN!Reader

Warning(s): Misunderstandings, Obsessive Working Out, Relationship Insecurities

Request(s): "Hello!!! I found your blog a few days ago and I felt like I absolutely had to make a HC request! Your writing is amazing!! Do you think you can do a HC on Zoro having a partner who likes to cook and shares the kitchen with sanji? maybe a little jealousy?"

A/N: I started this as headcanons but I got a bit carried away and it became a fic~ I hope you don't mind💕

"Those two are getting along pretty well, huh?"

Zoro looked up from his lap, his drift into slumber interrupted by the long-nosed sniper's words. His brow furrowed in confusion before following Usopp's gaze, catching sight of you and Sanji laughing amongst yourselves about something he wasn't privy to by the kitchen door. He wasn't surprised to see you there, often spotting you alongside the chef cooking up some new recipe he didn't understand the specifics of but would end up eating nonetheless. At his Nakama's lack of response, Usopp hurried to calm down the already cool-headed man. "Not that anything's, ya know, happening, or anything like that! I didn't mean that- I mean... You know what I meant." Zoro shrugged off his concerns inturn for returning to his attempt at sleep, this time without interruption from his crewmate.

He fell asleep to the sound of laughter.

~~~

The next day was interesting, having woken up to the shuffling of clothes and hushed voices. His senses were keen and he picked up on the ones responsible for the disturbance immediately. What were you and Sanji doing?

"Hurry up before you wake up the Marimo. I have something to show you!" The cook's voice was raspy in his attempt at quietness and Zoro was tempted to steal a peek at whatever was so interesting you had to get up before sunrise to see. "Shhhh!" You scolded the other man's insistent words.

Right after the initial shock of this wore off, a much more cynical thought made its way into his head.

He wasn't welcome. That's why you hadn't woken him up. That's why he couldn't come along with you, clinging close to your side in the morning air as you laughed off the curly-brow's stare of discontent at the sight of him. Whatever this thing between you and Sanji was, Zoro had no place in it and that notion was supported by the both of you. Zoro wasn't welcome in this part of your life, even as a spectator, and you had made sure of that.

You stepped out the door and his heart ached. He wasn't mad - not at you at least. He was confused. He hated being confused. Anger at least meant he understood the situation, but right now, he was left alone in the bed you and he were meant to share, feeling far too lonely for a man whose partner was just outside.

You came back in after some time, getting back into bed with a content sigh, the heat of his body warming you up from the cold dawn air. He was stiff beside you and you called his name in a low voice. He didn't respond to your questioning tone and you gave a soft smile to his relaxed face.

Zoro could only sense your stare, not your feelings, and turned over with a small, well-placed groan.

~~~

The light shined through under the door and it was Zoro's turn to wake up before you. It had to have been a few hours since your mysterious departure and return to the room and while he was still plagued by the many questions your actions left in his mind, no good could be done laying around.

He quickly got ready for the day, fixing his clothes in the mirror for a split second before heading out to the deck. The smell of food hit him and he knew that whatever the cook was making was going to be good. Not a surprise. Despite the pleasant aroma, his calm mood shifted and he wanted nothing more than to get away from the tell-tale signs of breakfast.

"Zoro!"

Your voice rang across the deck and his chest tightened. He turned around to face you, the soft smile on your face a welcome sight no matter any internal struggles he was facing. He knew trust was a difficult and sometimes fatal thing but he truly did have faith in the fact you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. This was his own issue. He trusted you(and Sanji but he wasn't about to say that).

He put off his training for a later time, the cook calling out that food was ready soon after you had approached him. Everyone quickly gathered and as the food was placed down, forks at ready to fend off their Captain's gluttonous hands, the Strawhats dug in. Your thigh was pressed against Zoro's and in the approaching winter island weather - and truly any instance at all - the contact was most welcome. Zoro poked at your plate playfully, expecting a laugh as he half-heartedly went for your food, but was surprised to see it garnered no reaction. His eyes traveled up your neck and he spotted your upturned lips which had a small smile of his own gracing his face, but as he looked at your eyes he realized you weren't paying attention to him in the slightest. You were looking at Sanji. And he was smiling back.

The pleasant expression on the swordman's face dropped away and he went back to eating, catching Robin's eye whilst doing so. The two shared a blank look and Zoro nodded at her before continuing his meal.

Your cheek pressed against his shoulder as he chewed around his fork, the warmth that filled him at the action burning in a masochistic sort of way. He knew he should talk to you but some part of him was scared of the answer and avoiding feelings was something Zoro did best. Be logical and win. That's all he had to do. But was there even something to win? And if so, hadn't Sanji already won?

The affectionate gesture received no reaction just as his had before and you removed yourself from his warmth.

~~~

Breakfast ended and with a quick press to your forehead Zoro was off, no doubt going to train up until lunch. The smile you received was tender yet rushed and you tried to trust in the fact that Zoro would come to you if something was wrong. Confronting him made him uncomfortable and you tried to avoid that when possible, giving him a place to express himself freely without forcing it out of him.

You made your way back into the kitchen, asking Sanji if he needed help with anything. He turned down your offer politely, content with the process of making the crew drinks on his own, but at the look on your face, he changed his mood. Directing you off into the food storage to get him some supplies, what he had originally planned to be a simple hot chocolate was now turning into an assortment of treats. He could tell you needed something to distract you and what better than cooking alongside the ship's gifted chef to soothe your need for occupation.

The snacks practically made themselves, you and Sanji working in sync as you gave the occasional comment or request. By the time it was done, there laid mugs of hot chocolate topped with fresh whipped cream and an assortment of cookies for everyone to choose from that would hopefully satisfy them until lunch was ready.

Sanji took the liberty of handing out the food to the ladies, stopping by Chopper as well because who could resist the cuteness of the blue-nosed creature. It was hard to believe anyone could consider him anything other than adorable perfection. You were of course stuck with the boys, balancing the dishes as you handed them off with a word of thanks from the recipients - or the occasional attempt at grabbing another serving.

The only person left was Zoro and when you didn't find him in his usual napping spot you crossed the deck with a sigh. That man truly was too predictable.

"Hey Y/N! Looking for Zoro?" Usopp questioned, the chocolatey drink coating his upper lip as he smiled. You nodded. "He said he wanted to be left alone to train. I'll graciously take his food though!" The sniper reached out for the goods, taking them from your frozen hands as you frowned. You always delivered Zoro's food to him when he trained, even if it went cold he ate it just so you would stop by to bring it to him. Maybe something really was wrong with your boyfriend.

~~~

Zoro's muscles ached under the strain of the weights, he had lost count of the reps by now and had no intention of stopping any time soon. His arms begged him to put them down, already far surpassing his goal for the workout session, but he couldn't. He found peace in the rhythmic movements and the pain only seemed to calm his mind. The endorphins in his brain fueled him on and he could easily see himself becoming addicted to the act; if he wasn't already that is.

All the anger and confusion faded into the background as his body screamed at him to stop. The sweat dripped down his face and the plain white shirt he adorned was soaked through with the moisture. He would have taken it off but that would require a break and that wasn't something his mind allowed at the moment. He let the fabric cling to his body as he focused on the movements.

A knock at the entrance had him dropping the heavy equipment without a second thought, looking over to where he had set his swords. He worked to catch his breath, the pain in his chest yet to subside due to the lengths he had pushed himself when the smell of tobacco flooded his senses.

"What are you doing, Marimo?" Sanji said without his usual instigating tone, the cigarette balanced against his lip as he spoke. The declared "Marimo" huffed, not happy to be interrupted by the main cause of his grief.

"Get out."

"I'll leave when you get your grassy head out of your ass and stop doing whatever it is you're doing."

"And what exactly am I doing, Cook?"

Sanji shot him a look, annoyed by his Nakama's false ignorance. His next words weren't a suggestion. "Fix this."

He turned around without another word, leaving Zoro alone once again, his only company being the cigarette smoke lingering in the air as a cruel reminder of the other's words.

~~~

Zoro didn't have the will to leave the space, the workout equipment surrounding his now near-sleeping form. He knew avoiding the issue would only make it worse but the comfort of being alone to dwell in his ill feelings was too tempting to resist. Just as he was about to lay down for a quick nap a knock broke him out of his wallowing state. Could he not get an ounce of peace on this damn ship?

His eyes widened at the person approaching.

"Y/N?"

"The one and only," you said in a somber voice, approaching the man. You weren't used to the lack of alcohol flooding your senses as you got close. He always smelled a bit of the drink and the small difference had you shifting on your feet, only adding to the uncomfortable mess of the situation.

You sighed, tugging Zoro up and along behind you as he simply gazed at you in confusion. He wanted to rip his arm away from your grasp, not a fan of being grabbed so harshly, but the lack of physical contact between you two left him a little more lenient if it meant he could touch you.

The trek to the food storage was silent, the tension between you two lessening slightly despite no words being exchanged. You caught a few looks from the others, some sending concerned frowns or even a stern glare from Sanji directed at your boyfriend. He didn't come in here often unless it was to steal alcohol - he came in here pretty often - and the way his eyes shifted around the room made it obvious he was uncomfortable with the situation yet decided to stay to see whatever this was through.

You let go of his arm to make your way over to the corner, pulling a box into view that had Zoro walking over himself to see. The top came off with a crack and you moved over slightly so he could get a better look from beside you. The container was filled with what looked to be little balls of algae but couldn't possibly be from how they sat on top of one another.

"Sanji found these on the last island. He said they reminded him of you, well, he said they looked like some sort of moss ball which is basically the same thing-"

Your words faded off into the background as Zoro peered down at the box, the contents staring back at him mockingly. He picked one of the fruits up, surprised at the hard exterior, and turned to face you.

"Is this why you snuck off yesterday?"

God, he felt stupid.

"Snuck off?" Your eyes widened in realization.

"It was supposed to a surprise! I thought maybe I could make you something with them. I would never... What did you think was happening?"

Zoro met your gaze with a shrunken expression. His words sounding pitiful to his own ears. "I didn't know what to think Y/N," his hand came up to card through his hair as his eyes shut, "I didn't want to think anything."

You gave a soft smile, knowing the conversation could get far too grim at a time that was supposed to be pleasant. "Sanji wanted to show these to me. I think he wanted to do something nice for us. He can be a bit of a dick," Zoro laughed at your words, "but he's sweet." There was a million different things he could say in that moment to counteract your words but decided against it. The weight that had been crushing his ribs finally dispersed and with a smirk he asked, "So, what can you make with these?"

You grinned, going off on a tangent about all the things you and Sanji had tried, the swordsman watching with bright eyes at the enthusiastic verbal reenactment of your cooking trials.

[brat-tamer69]

Dead Branches and New Leaves

♡ Summary: Levi’s relationship with his son Eren reaches a new low, and Y/N is there to confront Levi in an effort to rebuild. Very much inspired by this picture and in response to this request.

Part Two TBA

♡ Notable Tags: AU, Married, Parenting, Levi x Fem!Reader, Broken family, daddy issues, argument, angst and over 3k words holy shit!

❥ Disclaimer: Levi and his actions in this are not intended to be perceived as anything other than him being emotionally unavailable. He lost his temper and it is acknowledged numerous times that he is remorseful. I would like to emphasize that he is not emotionally or verbally abusive but this content may be upsetting to some readers. Please use your own discretion if you are sensitive to the topics.

♡ Send requests here!

Levi’s head instinctively whipped around to face the house’s front entrance when the screen gritted against the doorframe’s track. If he was not mistaken, his son would come bounding into the house from the front yard to ask for yet another snack. And Levi would once again shave down a carrot and before handing it over so it could be crunched down in seconds. How the kid had the energy to take off and put on his rain boots so many times in such quick succession, Levi didn’t know. But Eren did thankfully understand that if not for that talent, his dad would rip him a new one for tracking mud onto the freshly mopped tile.

As if summoned by thought alone, the percussive pattern of little feet hitting the floors echoed, and the urgency in it suggested that he was running. Levi pressed his lips together and closed his eyes, trying to cling onto what felt like the last second of peace he might have since Eren was running.

“Dad! Dad!” the toddler addressed him shrilly.

“What is it, runt?” Levi sighed and rotated in his spot in front of the stove to face his son.

“I was playing outside, and- and there was a big boom in the sky! And- And I wasn’t scared at all,” he added matter-of-factly. “But there was a little kitty outside, and I think him was scared.”

Levi stared down at the boy, bemused by how he managed to squirm and point every which way during a ten-second-long story. He then shifted his gaze back in the direction of the screen door, praying that Eren had possessed enough sense to close it behind him on the way in as the heavy rain had been accompanied by wind all morning. Levi had bargained with Y/N to support his stance of keeping Eren indoors but, in exercise of her wonderful parenting strategy, she insisted it would be better for him to play outside and get used to the daunting nature of thunderstorms.

Well, it’s working, Levi noted as he circled around the “big boom” Eren pointedly mentioned he wasn’t scared of. Still, his concerns were loyal to the furry little pest that seemed to be taking shelter in his front yard. “It’s ‘he was scared’,” Levi corrected. “And that’s too bad. Maybe he’ll run off somewhere safe on his own.”

Eren deflated, his shoulders and his volume falling while the size of his eyes grew. “But what if he can’t, Dad? What if the rain gets him sick?”

“Then the rain gets him sick,” Levi shrugged. “Not everything is meant to survive in this kind of weather, Eren. Besides, he might already be sick if he’s out there hanging around our house.”

An indiscernible emotion flashed across Eren’s face and disappeared just as quickly Levi picked up on it. But before he could engage, Eren was sprinting away and to the front yard again.

“Whatever,” he mumbled to the likes of himself. One thing he’d learned since become a father was that the less he knew, the better. If Eren did do something drastic like fall into a puddle of mud or befriend a sickly cat, he would scale the mountain of mishap once he approached it. For now, he had his focus on finishing dinner just as he promised his wife he would, and that was all he had the mental energy to do.

Perhaps one too many moments passed where Levi worked on simmering his kimchi nabe in the quiet, the slightly gentler rain being the only noise in the background. As he replaced the lid to the pot, he seemed to simultaneously sink back into reality. The thunder had finally ebbed. Y/N was still working on hemming some of Eren’s new clothes…

And Eren. The damn toddler that was notorious for popping up for snacks and attention hadn’t reappeared once in the past twenty minutes. The thought made Levi’s mouth dry and his throat swell faster than they would if he’d have swallowed a handful of cotton rounds. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. A clenched fist still equipped with a ladle, Levi set a brisk stride toward the front yard where, if his nonexistent god had any mercy, Eren would still be playing in the rain.

During the walk, the rain, the shuffle of his house slippers against the tile, and every other noise slowly faded. All he had in his ears was the vivid imaginary scream of his wife as she found out her son went missing under his watch. And the image of Eren with teary eyes burdened by fear was not any kinder to his growing panic.

“Shit–” he spat.

“Momma said that’s a curse.”

Levi looked down at the origin of the voice, the relief he felt in seeing Eren standing in front of him in perfectly healthy condition lasting but a second. It was instantly replaced by rage. As the panic drained from his body, every inch of him became ignited by disgust, disappointment, grief and a slew of other emotions he was too angry to even process. The blankness in his mind caused by the adrenaline rush was being filled in by the stench of the sopping wet stray cat being held out in front of him. “Eren…” he seethed in a low voice. “What the hell is that?”

Eren chewed his lower lip in hesitation. Levi almost wrenched when the boy had the gall to hoist the rancid being up higher, as if his father wanted to inspect it. “It’s the kitty! See?” he answered in earnest. “It’s the kitty I told you about! I told him to go find a new house so he doesn’t get sick, but he didn’t want to! And his tummy is bleeding, too!”

A soaking wet, bloody, feral cat. Levi didn’t know if he should give in to the hysterical, exasperated laughter bubbling in the depths of his stomach or if falling to his knees and sobbing would free him from the chaos he felt. Helpless to his anger toward his own child, all he could do was touch his hand to his face in a feeble display of his emotion. The outwardly endless consequences to Eren bringing a bleeding cat inside the house started to appear in his mind one by one, each adding to the pressure he felt building underneath his temples.

“Daddy?” Eren squeaked.

Levi was so distracted by his inner turmoil that he hadn’t even realized the minutes of silence that passed between them. “Go put it outside and wash your hands. Now.”

By the particular tone of voice his father used, Eren knew better than than to disobey him—even a single casual command from Levi would normally be enough to move him. But after trading glances between his dad and the injured cat, Eren shook his head.

Levi was in disbelief. He could feel his heart racing with every ounce of searing blood it sent through his veins. His hand trembled as it gradually fell from his face to reveal a nearly crazed expression, his eyes opened as wide as they could go but his brows furrowed impossibly low over them. “Did you just shake your head at me, boy?”

“Uh, well, the- the kitty is scared and has blood on him,” Eren gulped. “H-He can’t stay outsi–”

“Put it outside. And the next time I have to repeat myself, I’ll put you and the damn cat out.”

A small gasp escaped Eren’s quivering lips, but he swallowed it quickly before tucking the cat underneath his arm and escaping out the front door in a flash. Levi sucked in a shuddered breath, only now noticing the thick, brown splatters of mud and the droplets of red that created a trail to the yard and soiled his previously spotless tile.

“What happened? Where’s Eren?” Y/N’s soft voice questioned as she paced into the kitchen. “I heard you raise your voice. What’s going on?”

The worry in his wife’s shaky words gave way to her equal distress if not for the hand gently laid over her heart. It was enough to draw the ire from Levi’s body. Like the bright red leaving the eye of a cooling stove, anger steadily seeped from parts of him he wasn’t even aware were tensed. His set jaw unclenched, he lowered his shoulders and his fingers loosened from their intense hold on the ladle.

“Eren,” Levi replied to his wife in a breath at long last.

“Eren what?” she urged, her pupils growing.

“Eren’s fine. He just brought a fucking dying cat into our house.”

Confusion distorted Y/N’s features while her eyes moved frantically across Levi’s face in search for some sort of unspoken answer. When she didn’t receive it, she whirled around with a small huff then grabbed a fistful of her skirts and hurried to the front yard.

By her reaction itself, Levi knew he was finished. Y/N’s kindness knew no bounds in even the most stressful situation. In circumstances where his own instinct would be to react first, his wife was guided by the purest ethics; she would comfort, ask questions then gather herself enough to find a solution. But her consideration skipped him this time, and it was because she was livid with him. Levi could tell that much.

Bending at the knee to retrieve the cleaning supplies from the cabinets, he expelled a wearied sigh. He figured there was no better way to postpone is annoyance with the situation than by losing himself in the pleasures of cleaning on his hands and knees. He forced himself to focus on the acrid scent of chemicals burning his nostrils instead of the gut-wrenching sobs he could hear once his wife opened the front door. He tried to remember which solution was best to polish the ivory colored tile, but god damn it, he couldn’t think when he saw Eren’s little body, defeated and dripping wet, shuffling down the hall. His knuckles blanched as he all but strangled the cloth, putting all his upper body strength into scrubbing away what little remained of the muddy footprints.

Y/N watched Levi in silence for a brief period, absorbing how pathetic he looked down on the floor, frantically erasing the nonexistent spots while his son cried himself to sleep in the other room. She didn’t know what possessed her, but her nails were starting to dig into her palms in effect of how hard she was trying to contain it. If not for the pitiful picture of her baby boy standing outside, wailing over the corpse of a cat, she might have been frightened; she had never felt this way about Levi. But today was different—for everyone.

Levi released his rag and sat back on his heels when the shadow of his wife fell over him. At the same time, a coldness that he was far from feeling fell over his eyes. He could only hope it would protect him even a little bit.

“What the hell did you do?” Y/N demanded of him through her teeth, her voice faulted by an emotional tremolo.

He rose to face her and swiped his palms over his apron. “I did what any parent would do if their kid brought in a dying cat from outside. I told him to put the vermin back where he found it and wash his hands.”

“You cursed at him,” she sneered. “And you threatened to put him out of the house if he didn’t listen to you. It’s raining!”

He tried to keep his voice leveled though his need to emphasize his point superseded the attempt. “Well, if he listened to me the first time, I wouldn’t have cursed. And he’s a smart kid– He knows I wasn’t going to put him out.”

Already jaded by the argument, Levi mentally readied himself for Y/N’s rebuttal. But it didn’t come. Instead, her open hand flashed across his line of peripheral vision, and if it weren’t for his unique reflexes, it would have left a bright red print on his left cheek. Overwhelmed by the sequence of events, Levi’s defenses fell. By putting his energy in holding his wife’s wrist tightly, just mere inches away from his face, he’d lost his composure. His mouth went dry as it fell slightly agape and his eyebrows were pressed upwards together in sheer astonishment.

“Y/N–”

“You bastard!” she cried, her tears leaking through her voice as well as onto her face. “Do you have any idea how scared and alone he felt, watching that cat die in the rain?! And to make things worse, you were punishing him for your selfish ass obsession with keeping the house clean!”

Levi’s eyes darted past his distraught wife and landed on Eren’s bedroom door, paranoid that his mother’s shrieks might wake him. “It wasn’t like that.”

Y/N shook her wrist in his hold defiantly. “Then explain it to me! Explain to me what the hell you wanted to do! What, were you scared of telling him he couldn’t keep it?”

“No, I wasn’t!” he growled back. “The first thing I told him to do was let the damn thing go. It was a dying cat, Y/N! That thing could have given him or any one of us all kinds of diseases with its filthy fur in seconds! What if it had bit him or scratched him?”

Y/N met her husband’s eyes squarely and stared into them for an unwavering minute. His volume had fallen off marginally by the end of his question. Her eyes narrowed as his softened. She caught him. Letting out a mirthless laugh, she finally ripped her wrist from his grip. “You didn’t even check if it did, so why are you bringing that up as if you actually care?” she whispered.

Shit. “He would have told me it did,” he answered then swallowed, not quite convinced of his answer himself.

“Don’t you get it? He doesn’t want to tell you anything, Levi. And he wouldn’t ever if he had the choice.” He braced himself as he noticed her hands balled at either side of her waist. “You’re so goddamn bent on policing him that you forget to parent him, and you’re nothing but an authoritarian that feeds him. Our son has the biggest heart, and by the way you treat him, he would never know that he got any of it from you because you act just like your father figure, not his.”

Levi prided himself on his steel-like aplomb. But if anyone could melt steel, it was Y/N and any selection of words that came from her heart. Often times, they were sweet—almost cloying as he felt he never deserved her praise. This time, they were filled with venom and provided a sensation no different than someone plunging a blade between his lungs. In fact, each of his breaths in following were shaky at best.

Y/N knew that Levi hated being likened to the weasel of a man that raised him almost as much as he hated the man himself. Still, she pressed on, resolved to defend Eren and put an end to the struggles he had with his dad. “You’re silent,” she pointed out. “Because you know it’s true. I’ve tried so many times to get you to understand, to be more gentle with Eren, and you just aren’t. Today would have been the perfect opportunity for you to bond with him. But you didn’t. You couldn’t even treat him like he was worth something. You didn’t reason with him. You didn’t listen, you didn’t explain the why’s or even make sure he wasn’t being hurt by what was happening. You just cursed at a child– My child for having empathy. And you let him sit out in the rain, grieving and crying alone.”

Nausea washed over Levi as the color drained from his face. He felt as though someone had tied an anchor to his lungs and allowed them to dangle precariously in his chest. Tears sprung to his eyes when he realized that the way Y/N described the evening’s events were simply how it happened for Eren. While Levi had been driven by his compulsion toward cleanliness, Eren was acting on his innocence. The child wasn’t hardened by and consequently numb to death like his father was. Eren only saw an injured animal, retrieved it then looked to his dad for help. And Levi had sent him away, practically abandoning him. Even if it was just for the moment that he’d lost his temper, the impact on Eren was irrevocable.

He started to fix his lips to apologize, but he knew the words would be insultingly inadequate given the circumstance. “What do you want me to do, Y/N?” he asked thickly.

By the time his words were out, it seemed an eternity had passed and Y/N already had most of her back to him. What he could see of her face was a perfect and painfully personal illustration of disillusionment. “I want you to stay here, with Eren.”

“What?” Levi felt his own voice sounded like a distant echo in the room.

“I can’t stand to look at you, to be perfectly honest. And you hurt Eren more than you’ll ever know. You need to fix this—all of it while he’s young or you’ll never have the relationship with him that I always wanted for the both of you.”

Y/N turned to walk away again, but in this instance, it felt more final. It was why Levi threw his hand out toward her as if it had any power to halt her from such a distance. “Now you stop right there,” he ground out, masking his misery with a roughness. “You can’t just leave after the shit you’ve said. So where the hell do you think you’re going?”

She paused, providing truth in her earlier statement by keeping her eyes trained on one of the pristinely cleaned tiles. “I’m going to say goodbye to Eren then going to my mom’s house. And if he’s not attached to you by the time I get back, then you can set up a new living arrangement with her.”

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 2

a/n: thank you all so so sooooo much for the love on the first part of cstsyl ❤️ i hope you guys like part 2 just as much, and please reblog/leave me any feedback if you can as if really just makes me smile and helps with the engagement and blah blah blah u know the drill lol

and thank you to the lovely jill @havethetimeofyourstyles​​, jess @arrogantstyles​ and wendy @bookwormandtea​ for beta reading for me!

word count: 15k

warnings: mentions of death, couples fighting, awkward silence in elevators, and addicting candy cane pretzels.

fic page // let’s chat! // cstsyl playlist

They were fighting again. Y/N’s voice was booming through the walls, her boyfriend’s echoing after hers. Harry tries his best to focus on anything but their voices, but he can’t. It doesn’t make him feel all that great listening to the girl he had only seen smile and had been making laugh over the past two weeks, now yelling on the other side of the wall between them.

Harry plucks a soft melody on his guitar as he lounges on his couch. His hands absentmindedly playing the four chords that have been stuck in his head all morning while he attempts to write lyrics to the melody. Only, he was having a bit of trouble doing so as he listened to Y/N’s voice again.  

“Honestly, Mark! Really?” Y/N’s shouting is muffled, but Harry hears her still. “You really think that it doesn’t bother…” The rest of her words are a bit harder to hear as she quiets her voice. Harry never imagined he’d hear her raise her voice like that. That soft, sweet and gentle tone that he has spent dreaming about for weeks now.

Harry’s still plucking the chords he’s grown obsessed with, humming along while zoning out on the blank tv in front of him. He feels selfish, and rather ridiculous too, not wanting to imagine Y/N with another man. But he also feels selfish that he’s not upset over the fact they’re fighting for the third time in two days. Harry shakes his head and scolds himself for the thought. Regardless of his feelings, he shouldn't want Y/N to feel this way. He can tell these couple days must’ve been hard on her, working all day and then coming home to only end up in a yelling match with her prick of a boyfriend. 

Harry rolls his eyes and notices that the shouting has stopped. The silence of his apartment, aside from his guitar, only makes him feel a bit sadder. 

“I’m selfish, I know,” Harry sings, “but I don’t ever want to see you with him.” 

Suddenly, his phone chimes from where it’s sat on the table, signalling an incoming phone call from Mitch. A picture of the two of them together in the studio last spring shows on the screen, Mitch tucked under Harry’s arm as they’re both slouching into the couch they sat on. Harry reaches for his phone and swipes his finger across the screen to accept his call. 

“Hey,” Harry mutters into the phone, focusing on getting together his notebook and cleaning up the few torn crumpled pieces of paper littering his coffee table.

“Hey, you leaving your place soon?” Mitch asks. Harry can hear traffic in the background, meaning that he had already left his place that's located much closer to the studio than his own apartment is. Moving his shoulder up a little, he holds his phone between his ear and shoulder in order to use both hands as he sets his guitar into the open case that’s sitting on the chaise lounge of his couch. Then scrambling around to gather the scrap paper and glass of water he had, standing up with his trash in hand to throw away and glass in the other to put in the sink.

“Just about to,” Harry answers honestly, making his way into his kitchen to clean up. He sighs after clearing his hands and returns his phone to his left hand to hold now.

“You get busy with that neighbour of yours again. Got a new crush, H?” Mitch teases him. Rolling his eyes, Harry brushes a hand on his light wash jeans before patting his pocket to make sure his thin wallet was still there. 

“No,” he mutters, obviously lying to his best mate - which Mitch is very aware of as he hums in response. “I’ll be there in, like, 20 if the tube isn’t a horror show.” 

“You’ve lived here for nearly 3 years now, think you can call it the subway yet?” 

“Nope,” Harry sighs. There were a few things his British instincts kicked in for; many different phrases and words he knew would stick in his vocabulary despite how many years he’s been in the U.S. Harry’s grabbing his green winter coat and slipping on his boots as he holds the phone between his shoulder and ear again. “Should I grab the gang some coffee on my way? Seeing as I’ll probably be the last to arrive,” Harry says in a tight voice, his annoyance from hearing Y/N and her boyfriend still clear even in his phone call with his mate. 

“Don’t count on it. Tom hasn't answered his phone all morning, so something tells me he’s preoccupied,” Mitch suggests. Harry recalls the text he had gotten from his friend Tom, saying that he and the Missus were planning to celebrate their anniversary early this year. Mitch seems to be hinting that their celebrations have fallen into the morning too. Harry bets that Tom being MIA was because of his two children. The two of them knew how to gang up on their dad already at a young age—he couldn't imagine how they’d be when they grew up. 

“He’s a dad, Mitch, that's probably what he’s preoccupied with,” Harry states. After putting on his coat, he walks over to clasp the case for his guitar closed and heaves it up before heading for the door. 

“Point being, don’t bother with coffee. I’m in line at Starbucks anyways. Did you want anything?” Mitch asks.

“A slice or two of the banana loaf, please,” Harry requests, his stomach growling at the thought of food. Time had slipped by him this morning, listening to Y/N and her boyfriend argue, and he hadn’t eaten more than an apple for breakfast. 

Harry double checks the lights are off in his apartment before shutting the door behind him, setting his guitar down to rest on the wall to his left, and locking it quickly. Mitch is complaining in his ear about some Karen at the front of the line. Harry chuckles at his friends colourful words and picks up his guitar, not sparing a glance at Y/N’s door as he walks to the elevator and hits the down button to call it to his floor. Not even a ten seconds go by and he hears someone exiting their apartment behind him. Harry doesn’t want to look over his shoulder to check, not wanting to see Mark and Y/N walking hand in hand towards him. So, he keeps his eyes trained up on the red numbers rising above the elevator doors, signalling it’s arrival, soon hopefully. 

“Hey, Harry right?” Mark questions, pointing a finger at Harry as him and Y/N stepped up to the elevator. Y/N tries her best not to frown. She hates the way Harry doesn’t smile at her first before meeting Mark’s eyes and nodding. 

“Hey,” Harry says. He turns his head and catches Y/N’s gaze. “What are you guys up to?” 

Y/N knows he’s simply being polite, something Mark wouldn’t care to be - seeing as he’s already got his phone out of his pocket, and is staring at the screen as he answers. “Y/N’s driving me to the airport,” he states. 

Harry looks at Mark, anger bubbling inside of him as he clutches the guitar case in his hand. The elevator doors open then, a light bing! coming from inside. Mark enters first, not even bothering to look at Y/N or Harry, but then Harry waves his free hand in motion to let Y/N walk in before him. She smiles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear as she walks into the small space and stands beside Mark. 

“Thanks,” she says in a soft voice as Harry hits the button for the lobby. She takes note of the guitar case in his hand. “Are you heading to the studio?” She asks, pointing to the bulky item he’s carrying. 

Harry looks down at his guitar case, “yeah, last day before everyone gets their break.” 

“No more counting down the days then, huh?” She asks, mentioning their previous discussion about how people typically countdown the days till they have time off - her included this year. But Harry had mentioned that he wasn’t looking forward to his days away from the studio. He didn’t think she’d remember that. 

“Counting the days till I’m back in the studio now,” Harry says. Y/N smiles and Harry’s heart bursts at the sight. Having heard her raised voice earlier today, being sure a scowl was etched on her face, he was glad to see her lips turned upward. Mark clears his throat then, causing both Y/N and Harry to quit looking into each other's eyes and step back into reality - her boyfriend was right beside them. 

“Studio? What are you, a singer or something?” Mark asks Harry. His eyes catch sight of Mark’s arm snaking around Y/N’s back, resting lazily on her left hip as they stood there. Harry licked his lips and almost nodded, but was quick to catch himself and shook his head instead. “What kind of studio then? Movies?” Mark continues to question him. 

“A music studio, I’m just a musician,” Harry answers. 

“Oh,” Mark says, “cool,” he adds with a shrug. The elevator doors open and Mark guides him and Y/N out of the small space. “Well, see ya around, ‘Arry,” Mark says with a smug look, trying to mimic his accent. But he butchers it, of course, sounding more like Hagrid from Harry Potter. Mark then waves and turns himself and Y/N to the right of the lobby that leads to the stairwell that went down to the underground parking lot. 

Y/N only gets to give Harry a quick smile before Mark turns her away. She wants to apologize for Mark’s ridiculous behaviour, feeling embarrassed by it. She also wanted to say that Harry wasn't just a musician, he was a songwriter too, which therefore meant he was a storyteller, and in her eyes songwriters were some of the most creative and talented people. Y/N wanted to shut Mark up and start bragging about Harry, like he was her boyfriend and Mark was just some dumb prick. 

Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and licks them, glancing quickly over her shoulder before getting to the door. Her eyes meet Harry’s intense stare, him looking over his shoulder at her too, and her stomach erupts with butterflies. But then it flips and flops with nerves and her hands suddenly being tugged on by her boyfriend, holding open the door with his hip as he walks them through the doorway and out of Harry’s sight. 

Harry finds himself thinking about Y/N the whole way to the studio—as if he hasn’t stopped thinking about her and her boyfriend over the past couple days anyways. Did she ever mention being in a relationship, even in the most subtle way? Did he misinterpret her kindness for flirting like an absolute idiot? These questions were on a loop inside of his head until he walked into the studio, flashed the front desk his ID badge, and headed to studio B where he and his mates would be working today. 

“And he’s made it,” Mitch announces as Harry pushes closed the door and walks the few steps to his left where the brown leather couch was against the wall. Adam is sitting on the couch, the phone in his hand chimes as he types on it quickly, merely giving Harry a quick smile before looking back at the screen. Mitch is standing by the switch board, leaning back against it as he stares Harry down. Next to him is Tom, sitting in his chair and facing his many computer screens as he gets everything up and going for the day. 

“And I see we were both wrong and Tom beat me,” Harry states. He sets his guitar down, leaning it against the side of the couch before sitting himself down beside Adam.

“I wasn’t answering my phone because I was already on my way over here way before any of you slowpokes, and then I turned off my ringer once I got in here,” Tom explains, leaning back in his chair while his eyes stay on the screen. But then he twirls around, facing Harry and Adam, and gives Adam a bored look. “Like we all agreed to do, right Adam?” 

“Relax, I’ll do it after I send this last text,” Adam says. 

“Sure,” Tom mutters, swivelling his chair back around and grabbing the mouse to continue his set up.  

“Jeez, Tommy,” Mitch chuckles, “did you not get any last night or something? What’s got your panties in a knot?” 

Harry’s eyebrows pull down as he takes in his friends stiff posture as Mitch’s words seem to sink in. “Wasn’t it your anniversary date last night?” He questions, keeping his voice light and not as daunting as Mitch’s had been. 

Tom turns back around to face the boys and makes a big show of rolling his eyes. “Yeah, it was supposed to be, but then our babysitter called and was all freaked out and of course Jenny got all freaked out too. I tried to tell her it wasn’t that big of a deal and they could handle it, but we still ended up leaving our hotel room at nine o’clock and dealt with our two crying children who just missed their mommy. I was in bed by eleven.” Tom explains his night, ending with rubbing a hand up and down his face as he was clearly annoyed by the whole situation. 

“That’s just life as a parent, man,” Adam states. “Emi and I didn’t have a single date night till Spike was five,” he adds with a shrug. 

“Yeah, I get it but it’s just upsetting to have this whole night planned and then it not happen,” Tom says. Harry knew that feeling; he may have not had a full anniversary night away planned like Tom did, but the other day he was racking up things to do with Y/N before he was introduced to her boyfriend. 

Harry zones out, eyes glued on the coffee table in front of him as he sighs softly, leaning back into the couch as he was getting wrapped up in his thought of Y/N, again. I could still be her friend, he thinks. Even though it’d hurt to see her with her boyfriend, to hear about a date night or see them kiss. The ache already begins in Harry’s chest as the mere thought of it, and he finds himself bringing a hand up and rubbing over his heart subconsciously. 

“Harry,” Mitch calls, forcing Harry to snap out of his thoughts and look up at where he stood. He raises his eyebrows, making Harry think that he had said his name more than once but was ignored. 

“What’s going on?” Tom asks Harry. 

“He’s probably thinking about his latest little crush,” Mitch smirks, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Who is it this time?” Adam asks in a monotone voice.

“His new neighbour. Supposedly, she’s rather beautiful in Harry’s eyes,” Mitch teases. 

“Not just in my eyes,” Harry mumbles, looking at his lap and picking off an invisible piece of lint. 

“What do you mean?” Tom questions. 

Harry hears Tom’s chair squeak suddenly, making Harry assume that he must be leaning back in it again. Harry looks up to see he’s right - Tom’s got his arms crossed at his chest like Mitch while they’re both staring him down. Harry lets out a sigh and shakes his head, leaning further into the back of the couch while he licks his lips and looks anywhere but at his friends’ faces - not wanting to see their taunting looks when he tells them. 

“She’s got a boyfriend,” Harry says in a low voice. 

Mitch inhales a sharp breath, hissing through his teeth as he walks over and clamps a hand down on Harry’s shoulder. “That’s tough man,” he says. 

Harry shakes his head again and sits up, causing Mitch’s hand to fall off his shoulder. “It’s not just tough. I get I have these crushes on people a lot, but I don’t know, there was just something different between us. We really clicked and I just thought we’d at least get to go out a few times,” he speaks softly into the quiet room,the support of some of his closest mates surrounding him.

“Have you written about how you’re feeling?” Tom asks. Harry nods and reaches for his guitar without a second thought, taking it out of the case and positioning the instrument in his lap. 

“This is gonna be good,” Mitch nods his head and rolls over the second chair that occupied the room. Harry shakes his head at his friends comment. 

“I’ve just had this tune in my head for a couple days now, and I’ve only come up with a few lyrics really, so I don’t know how good it will be,” he explains. 

Harry plays the song he’s been playing all morning for the other three in the room. The soft acoustic guitar fills the silence, the twang from his guitar strings echoing off the walls. Harry shuts his eyes and lets his voice build up as he sings the two lines he’s been thinking about for a few days now. He feels it deep in his chest, the truth behind his words. Suddenly, more lyrics filter out of his mouth that hadn’t come up before. 

“I’m selfish I know,” he sings, “I’d tell you but I know you’d never listen.”

It’s not entirely the truth, because he’s sure that Y/N would listen to anything he had to say. He’s also sure that if he walked up to her right now, ran out of this studio and back to the apartment and waited outside her door, begging for her to break up with him, that she wouldn’t listen. Harry believes that she’s a better person than that - that regardless if she felt what he had over their past few encounters, she wouldn’t listen to what he wanted and would figure things out herself. 

“I hope you can see, the shape that I’m in,” Tom suddenly sings along to the tune that Harry’s still playing. Harry opens his eyes in a flash and looks at his friend, but Tom’s back is already to him as he’s facing his computer again. “I have the perfect piano and drums mix for this. I’ve had it kind of hidden away for the right time and I think this is it.” 

And that’s when the magic happens. Harry puts down his guitar and gets right into the lyrics, pouring himself into yet another song. He lets his feelings out about the situation he’s gotten himself into with Y/N, and mixes it with some poetry he’s written previously in his journal. You flower, you feast, is something he’s had for quite some time but had never felt it really fit into any of his other songs. And yet somehow in this song full of duck noises, a guitar solo, and many lalalala’s, it somehow found its place. 

Not to mention that Mitch absolutely murders the guitar solo. His long hair acts as a curtain as he sways to the music and lets himself go. Nearly every time that Mitch goes in for a solo, he doesn’t remember what he plays because he’s in such a trance, so Tom has to play it back for him if he needs to fix anything up. Overall, the song inspired by Y/N and her shit boyfriend is pretty great. 

“Anything else you’ve got to bring to the table, Harry?” Tom asks after nearly six hours of working on perfecting their new song ‘Woman’ - named solely because of the repeating of the word in the course, which was chosen because he felt like he was calling out to Y/N in this song. Saying woman over and over again at her in hopes to get her attention. He simply shrugs and stretches back into the couch, sprawling his legs out in front of him while staring down at his journal that’s sitting in his lap. 

“I’ve been writing this one based off a man I see everyday during my breakfast at the cafe down the street from my apartment,” he says. Harry clears his throat and sort of talk-sings what his idea of the melody is with the lyrics he’s got. “Nine in the morning, man drops his kids off at school. And he’s thinking of you, like all of us do. Sends his assistant for coffee in the afternoon, around one thirty two.” 

“Alright, I like it,” Adam nods his head.

“Who’s he thinking of?” Mitch teases, “like all of us do,” he adds with a smirk. His lips then wrap around the straw that was in the can of Pepsi he had gotten from the mini fridge a while ago. Harry rolls his eyes and kicks out his foot in order to nudge Mitch’s leg from where he’s sitting in the desk chair he’s gotten comfortable in. 

“Shut up,” Harry grumbles. Adam, Mitch and Tom all chuckle at their friend’s pout, which just makes him smile. He knew that coming into the studio and writing and making music about his situation with Y/N would ultimately make it feel even a little bit better. During the making of their newest song, his friends did give him some advice. 

“If it’s meant to be, it’ll work out, H,” Adam had said with a smile. 

But there’s no way of knowing how he’ll feel when he bumps into her again, whether she’s with her boyfriend or not. 

It’s been a tough few days for Y/N. Not only has work been crazy because not one, but two interns got sick with a stomach bug; meaning she was currently filling their job on top of her own and running around the city - but she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about Harry. 

She is in her own head again as she walks into the Gucci store on Fifth Ave. for the third time in two days. As Greg approaches her, she appreciates his light pink suit with a white ruffled shirt underneath. His bald head shines under the lights of the store, but that smile was much brighter and obviously, professionally whiten. Greg gives her a kiss on the cheek, saying they are a bit behind with her packages since it’s such a busy time for them as well. Y/N just nods and gives him a smile, accepting the flute of champagne as she takes a seat and waits. This is honestly the first time she’s gotten a chance to sit all day, but of course, she spends it zoning out on a sparkly dress hung up a few feet away from her as her mind begins to think of anything but work. 

Mark and her started dating only a mere four months ago. After meeting at a bar in the Upper East Side, he practically stalked her - which isn't too hard considering her social media following - and sent her flowers to work for three days straight till she agreed to go on a date with him. Turned out that he wasn’t just some business man out on the town with some work buddies, but an heir to one of the country's biggest companies. Therefore, meaning that when the gossip started of the two of them seeing each other, Y/N’s mom was the first person to call. 

“You hit the jackpot, baby!” She basically screamed into Y/N’s ear. 

Y/N only rolled her eyes at her mothers words. Her mother was the typical New Jersey girl that grew up with big dreams of pinning down a wealthy New York City man - and kudos to her for doing it. Her dad, bless his heart, was an older naive man who somehow managed to fertilize her mother’s gold digging eggs and voila, Y/N was born. But with that being said, Y/N was lucky enough to have family money, so she never felt the need to be in a relationship just because a man had more in his bank account. She also had better morals than her mother, and knew that money wasn’t a factor when you really loved someone. So no, Mark was not the jackpot because of his bank account. Y/N just thought he was really nice and attractive too, so she agreed to be his girlfriend those four months ago. But it wasn’t till a month ago that that nice streak ended. 

All of a sudden Y/N’s cell phone is ringing. She blinks out of her daze to realize she’s finished her glass of champagne while so deep in thought. Pulling out her phone, she looks at the screen to see it’s Mark calling. His ears must be burning, Y/N thinks.

“Hey,” Y/N answers softly, crossing a leg over the other and resting her elbow on her knee as she holds the phone to her ear. 

“Hey, babe,” Mark sighs. Y/N knows right away what he’s about to tell her, all by the tone of his voice and the use of that nickname. He used it when he asked her to drive him to the airport yesterday, which he forgot to mention he needed her to do till an hour before he had to leave - resulting in Y/N being very behind on work for the day.

“How’s Arizona?” Y/N asks politely anyway, mentioning the state he was in for business this time around. He was always traveling for work; his father wants him to know all the branch executives, so therefore he’s been to pretty much every state in the country over the course of six months. The moment they started to date Y/N knew he’d be working a lot, but she didn’t expect him to be working all over the country. She’s lucky if she gets a weekend with him, and honestly, she was looking forward to the almost two weeks work free they’d be getting together. But something told her that was not going to happen. 

“It’s good, hot,” he says, seeming distracted by something in the background to which he moves the phone away from his mouth to respond to someone around him. “No, no, not those, the red ones,” he orders. 

“Mark?” Y/N questions, keeping her voice down as Greg and one of his associates come from the backroom then with a few boxes in hand. “I’m just a bit busy with work, was there a reason for you calling, hun?” 

“Right…Well, unfortunately my time at the Arizona office will be extended. So, I’m not going to make it back to New York before Christmas,” Mark explains. Y/N frowns at his words even though it’s just as she imagined when she answered his call.

“When will you be back?” She asks, her eyebrows pulled together and lip pouting out slightly. 

“That’s the thing, there’s really no point in me flying back to the East Coast so close to the holidays when I’ve got to be in Los Angeles for my family’s big festivities.”

“Oh,” Y/N says. She’s only sad for a moment, noticing that Mark is distracted by something in the background once again as his voice is muffled. “So when exactly are you planning to come back to the city, Mark?” She asks as she sits up and projects her voice louder into her phone. Greg and his associate seem to notice Y/N demeanour change, his baby blue eyes widening slightly as he sets the boxes down on the couch beside her.

“I don’t know-”

Y/N doesn’t let him speak, though, her anger getting the best of her for what feels like the millionth time since she began dating Mark. It’s so unlike her, she thinks. She shakes her head and says, “you don’t plan to come back to New York and spend any part of the holidays with your girlfriend? Your girlfriend who very much loves the holidays, by the way.”

“I’m aware of your love for the holidays, Y/N, little hard to not know when your apartment looks like a four year old decorated it with all that crap,” Mark huffs into the phone, his voice matching her tone. 

“Oh my god, whatever, Mark,” Y/N snaps in a low voice, having to take a deep breath as she stares down at the floor. “Just go and have fun on the West Coast, don’t worry one bit about me ‘cause it seems you haven’t bothered to to begin with,” Y/N finds herself seething into the phone, keeping her voice low before pulling her phone away from her ear and hanging up before he can say one more thing to upset her. 

She shuts her eyes and takes a deep breath. Focusing on making her heart beat slow down and her hands to stop shaking. Did she just break up with him? No, no I didn’t say the words, I didn’t say it’s over and maybe I should have, Y/N thinks while letting out another short breath through her nose. She did not deserve this and she knew she didn’t, and yet she keeps putting up with his extended work trips and him disrespecting her opinions. Mark wanted a woman like Y/N’s mother. One that didn’t have her own hobbies and her own dreams, and who just wanted to be on his arm and live with whatever he put them through. Or did she even give him a real chance? That little voice in the back of her head, the one that was planted by her own mother, asks her. 

“You look like you need another glass, mi amor,” Greg says softly, bringing her to open her eyes once more and realize that she did in fact just have a fight with her boyfriend over the phone in public. In front of a supplier too. Her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. Thankfully, she thought of Greg as more of a friend than in a professional view. She smiles at him, forcing it, while he holds up the bottle of champagne and fills her glass. 

“Thank you,” she says quietly. 

“You’re welcome,” he nods, turning to his left to grab the second tall glass and fills it as well. Y/N chuckles as he brings it to his own mouth and has a sip. “What? The holidays are stressful, I deserve a glass too every once in a while.” Y/N only laughs again and raises her flute, Greg lifts his own to cheers her before they both take a sip. “Did you want to talk about it?” He asks after a beat of silence. 

Y/N licks her lips, tasting the expensive champagne all over again. “It’s just,” Y/N sighs and runs a hand through her hair before she continues, “I thought that Mark was different when I first met him. He sent flowers to my work and took me to nice restaurants. He seemed to be really into me, and now, he’s really into his work and he thinks my love for the holidays is childish, and that my opinions and my time don’t matter. So, I’m starting to think I jumped into this relationship, maybe a bit too fast all because my mom approved of his last name and Sammy thought he was hot.” Y/N rants in a rush of words, bringing her flute to her lips afterwards for another sip.

Greg doesn’t respond right away, instead he too sips his champagne and looks around the room they sat in. He sighs and brings a hand down on Y/N’s thigh, causing her to look at him. He smiles and gives her a comforting pat. 

“You are a young woman in New York City who’s really got her shit together, you know your worth, Y/N,” Greg says. Y/N mirrors his smile, feeling the back of her eyes threaten with tears at his sweet words. “You’ll know what to do about this man,” he adds with a wink. Greg removes his hand and lifts his flute to finish off his champagne. “Plus, men are trash anyways,” he mutters as his eyes wander around the room that’s quickly filling up with customers. 

Y/N laughs, “yes, Greg, they can be.” She agrees. But there’s one man that comes to her mind. One with enchanting green eyes, beautiful dimples, a contagious laugh, and a certain swoon worthy accent. 

And yet, Y/N is not surprised when her thoughts drift off to Harry again. In fact, she thinks about him the entire way back to her office, the few boxes from Greg in her arms as she travels on the subway and walks carefully on the slushy shovelled snow that covers the sidewalks. What is he up to today? She thinks, knowing that he must’ve gotten home from the studio late yesterday - maybe even this morning. She worked late on emails last night, only having her Christmas playlist playing softly from her TV, and she didn’t hear him get home. She wonders if he sleeps in when he does that, or if he still manages to get up early and do whatever it is he does every day. She doesn’t know his daily routine, but she admits to herself that she’s curious.

Having done the errands that were needed for the day, Y/N ends up sitting at her desk for the remaining three hours of her work day. Her and Amanda go over new interns to hire, seeing as Y/N’s boss doesn’t want her away from the office doing intern work forever. And then she and Sammy are walking out of the building together at five o’clock sharp. They endured yet another eleven hour work day today. And this was one of the easiest days this week, since it was spent shopping around and organizing the office. Tomorrow there would be two A-list clients coming in for their last styling of the year, both finalizing their outfits for the upcoming Grammy awards too.

“You seem off today,” Sammy says as they walk down the stairs to the subway. 

“I, um,” Y/N licks her lips and narrows her eyes at the screen that reads when the next stop would be. She looks at her friend and sighs. “I got into a fight with Mark earlier,” she states. 

“Another one?” Sammy questions, raising a brow and giving her a look that said ‘really?’.

“Yup,” Y/N says, rolling her lips into her mouth and nodding. “He’s too busy with work to come back to the city for the rest of the month, said he doesn’t see the point in coming back even for a day before he has to go back home to the West Coast. So, I ended up yelling at him in the middle of the Gucci store.” 

“Are you for real?” Sammy asks in shock, his eyes widening as Y/N explains what her boyfriend had told her earlier. 

“Yup,” she repeats, nodding her head again too. “Oh, and he said my apartment looked like a four year old decorated it and it looked like crap,” Y/N chuckles, realizing now how stupid Mark’s fighting words were. 

“Y/N,” Sammy sighs, “dump him,” he says while placing a hand on her shoulder and giving her a sympathetic smile. “I get that you wanted to give this guy a chance, but all you guys ever do is fight and I don’t want to say it but I’m going to,” he sighs again dramatically, “I’ve seen you smile over that new neighbour of yours more than Mark in the past few weeks. That’s a sign.”

“But what if I didn’t give Mark a real chance? And what if I’m just playing Harry up in my head-”

“No, none of that,” Sammy shakes his head and stares deep into Y/N’s eyes. “You are the most polite and sweetest person I’ve ever met. There’s no way in hell you didn’t give Mark a chance, hell you gave him a million chances, let’s face it. And as for Harry, you’ll never know unless you get to know him.” 

Y/N rolls her eyes as Sammy drops his hand and tilts his head to the side. She notices the platform getting busier and louder then, as the subway makes way towards them from the North. This was her ride, while Sammy had to wait another ten minutes for the one that went to Brooklyn. Y/N thinks about what Sammy had said. Maybe she did give Mark plenty of chances and maybe their time was up, but that doesn’t mean she feels comfortable jumping right back into the game of dating with Harry. Plus, how bad would that make her look. Harry would probably think she didn’t care about relationships and typically shuffled around boys, which was so far from her case. In fact it was why she was so hesitant to date Mark in the first place - she didn’t like to give her time and love to just anyone. It’s just too bad she didn’t realize that Mark wasn’t worth it sooner. 

“If I’m just getting out of this relationship with Mark, I can’t just start dating Harry,” Y/N exclaims to Sammy.

“I didn’t say date him right away, I said get to know him,” Sammy states, “hang out, be his friend, and if things happen then they happen. The world works in funny ways,” Sammy says matter of factly, pointing a finger at her while she starts taking a few steps towards the subway that’s coming to a stop. “We’ll talk later! Dump the fucking guy though!” Sammy shouts as Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes while getting into the mass of people cramming on the subway. 

“Yeah, dump the son of a bitch,” a croaky voice startles Y/N as she gets through the door. An elderly woman is smiling back at her, her yellow teeth contrasting against her dark skin as she smiles wickedly at Y/N. She chuckles awkwardly and nods, walking across the space to an open seat. 

Opening her purse, she finds her Airpods and puts them into her ears. They connect to her phone automatically and she begins to tap on her phone, deciding on which playlist she wants to listen to on her way home. Once she clicks shuffle on her ‘girl freaking power’ playlist, she turns it all the way up and lets the anger in Halsey’s voice fuel her own anger towards her shit boyfriend. She thinks of their fights that have happened recently the whole ride on the subway, then she thinks if it’d be too cruel of her to break up with him over the phone as she walks the few blocks to her apartment building. If he broke up with me over the phone I’d be a little upset, Y/N thinks with a frown as she walks across the lobby to the elevator. 

Y/N, who was so in her own world with her music still turned up all the way as a new song by Olivia O’Brien, doesn’t even realize when Harry walks up beside her. He can hear her music blasting through her earphones. He leans forwards a bit, hoping to get in her line of sight. But she is still focused on the elevator doors, nodding her head to whatever song she’s got playing. Harry’s lips tug up into a smile. When he first saw her standing there when he entered the building he got a little nervous, unsure how this interaction between them would go. Should he apologize right away for not knowing she had a boyfriend and asking her for dinner?

“Hello?” Harry sings. “Y/N?” He calls in a normal voice. This time she seems to notice that someone is beside her. She jumps slightly, placing a hand over her heart and reaches up with the other to take out an Airpod which causes her music to stop completely. 

“You scared me,” she breathes out. 

“Sorry,” Harry says, giving her a timid smile. “I tried getting your attention a few times, it must be a good song.” 

She looks down at the earphone in her hand and nods, “uh, yeah, just really into empowering female music today.” She states. 

Harry hums and nods, then the elevator opens, revealing a few people inside which causes Y/N to step towards him as they move out of the way. If he hadn’t taken a step back fast enough she'd practically be right up against him. He breathes in and smells her perfume, the intoxicating scent of rose filling his nostrils with her being so close. Y/N gives a quick ‘you’re welcome’ to the people who step out as they thank them for moving before they both step into the elevator together. Harry was too busy thinking about how close Y/N had been to step up and hit the number six button before he could. He gives her a smile in thanks.

The elevator begins to ascend as the space falls into silence between them. They’re both overthinking. What should I say? Is what is on both their minds as they pass the first floor, and then the second. Harry lets out a short breath through his nose before leaning his back against the railing. 

“I’m sorry for being so clueless,” he states, pausing when Y/N’s head whips up and her eyes meet his. “I didn’t think you’d have a boyfriend and I just didn’t think twice before asking you if you wanted to get dinner,” he says, finally getting the thought off his chest. 

Y/N furrows her brows, “and why did you think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend?” She asks, teasing him, but Harry’s face falls and he stands straight once again, bringing both his hands up and waves them in front of himself as if in surrender. 

“Not that you’re like not pretty enough for a boyfriend, or nice enough, cause to be quite honest I would be surprised if you didn’t have a boyfriend cause you are like the prettiest girl I’ve ever met and not to mention really nice and super cool too-” 

“I was just teasing you, Harry,” Y/N stops him. But his words had caused quite the feeling inside her stomach, butterflies were multiplying like it was nobody's business while she swore she felt her heartbeat in the soles of her feet. 

“Oh,” he breathes out, “right. Well, still, I’m sorry.” He casts his eyes down to the floor, feeling his cheeks warm up from embarrassment. The elevator sounds a quiet bing! as the doors open for them on the sixth floor. Harry lifts his eyes to meet Y/N’s once more, motioning with his hand for her to exit first. She smiles and walks out with him right behind her. 

Y/N doesn’t say anything till she’s at her apartment door, her key in the lock, and she notices Harry is at his door a few feet away. She sighs and stops twisting the key, letting her shoulder sag as she looks over at Harry. 

“I’m sorry too, by the way,” she says. Harry looks up at the sound of her voice, thinking she was simply going to take in her apology and go about her merry life with Mark. He watches her tongue dart out and wet her lips as she leans into her door. “I should have mentioned Mark, even just in a quick comment, but honestly our relationship is sort of new and even a little non-existent at times, it seems, so I guess I was just enjoying making a new friend. I didn’t even think about it,” Y/N explains herself. 

Harry takes in her words; that her relationship is new, and non-existent? He wonders what she means by that. But he can’t help but smile at her mentioning that she enjoyed becoming his friend. Harry nods his head and let’s his smile grow wider, knowing his dimples would show. 

“I’d like to keep being your friend,” Y/N adds, “if that’s okay?” 

“It’s totally okay,” Harry nods. Y/N smiles and nods back. 

“Okay,” she says softly. 

Harry fits his key into the lock without looking, keeping his eyes on Y/N’s as he notices her cheeks glowing a shade of pink. “How about a movie night? Tomorrow? If you’re not busy, of course,” Harry suggests, twisting his key and unlocking the door. 

“I think I’m free. It’ll have to be Christmas themed, of course,” Y/N says, narrowing her eyes as if to challenge Harry to fight her on it - like Mark would. 

“Well, yeah,” Harry scoffs, eyebrows pulled together and head shaking in faux disbelief. “Wouldn’t have it any other way during the month of December,” he adds. 

Why couldn’t I have moved in like six months ago? Y/N thinks to herself as she smiles at Harry. She finds herself liking him more with every word that comes out of that pretty mouth of his. If only she had met him before she met Mark. Things would be easier, that’s for sure.

The two of them agree on a time for tomorrow, six in the evening, before saying their goodbyes and walking into their homes that were side by side. After Y/N takes off her shoes and coat, she walks towards her bedroom to get changed into some workout clothes for a quick at home video before she ate dinner. Just as she’s changing she hears the muffled sounds of Harry’s guitar - something she’s grown fond of hearing through their shared wall. Maybe she’ll get him to play her something tomorrow, she thinks with a smile. 

Y/N makes her way back into her living room and starts up her workout video. She does some jumping jacks to get her warmed up, but honestly, her heart is already pounding in her chest from her interaction with Harry and the plans they have made. Without a doubt she knows she’ll be counting down the hours during her work day tomorrow till six o’clock.

Elf or Polar Express? Both were very different Christmas movies, and they were the two she was torn between taking over to Harry’s. They hadn’t talked about who’s apartment they would hang out in, but as it was ten minutes to six, she hoped to get out the door and knock on his first, in order to get the chance to ask him to play his guitar for her maybe. But that’s not how it’s going to work out because Y/N’s too busy being stuck between two of her favourite movies when suddenly, there’s a knock at her door. She frowns knowing that it’s Harry and wouldn’t get to hear him play guitar, but gets up from where she was sitting crossed legged on the floor to answer the door. 

Her fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floor as she walks to her door, peering through the peephole quickly to double check to see it was Harry. She smiles at the sight of his floppy brown hair and unlocks her door before swinging it open. Harry looks up as she opens the door, meeting her gaze for only a moment before he watches her take in his apparel. 

He had thought about it for way too long, what he was to wear to hangout and watch movies with the girl he liked, but ended up staying dressed down as he was all day. Y/N liked how the plain white shirt he wore fit him, only a small brand logo that was over his heart, but she really liked the pastel rainbow coloured sweatpants he wore too. He looks comfy and ready to lay back and relax for a few hours with her. He’s not wearing any shoes though, which makes Y/N furrows her brows for a second. 

“I didn’t really see any point in putting on shoes for the few feet out of my apartment,” Harry states quickly to let her know. Y/N nods, chuckling under her breath, but understanding what he means. She steps back and lets him into her home. 

Harry takes in the atmosphere of Y/N’s apartment for the second time now. The glow from her many Christmas lights makes him feel warm inside, and her Christmas tree was the focal point of it all. He likes the odd ornaments that are littered among the branches, and he can’t quite make out what they all are, but something tells him that they each hold a special meaning to Y/N. Maybe some from her childhood, others from some trips she’s had - he could see her collecting them from anywhere she’s travelled to. Harry makes a mental note to ask her at one point. 

“I was thinking of making some hot chocolate, and I have a bag of, like, this candy cane and white chocolate pretzels that I’ve been obsessed with lately and was going to munch on that during the movie, but I have a bunch of other snacks too, honestly,” Y/N starts to explain to Harry. He turns on his heels to see she’s already locked her door and is now moving into the kitchen. 

“I’m cool with some hot chocolate,” Harry nods, “and I’ll give the pretzels a try, they sound good.” 

“They are so good, oh my god,” she moans at the mere thought of eating them. Bending down to open her bottom drawer, she reveals a well organized array of munchies that looked like a stoner's heaven. 

As she’s ruffling through the drawer Harry takes in her outfit. She’s got on a pair of Christmas themed pajama bottoms with little snowflakes scattered along the dark blue material that matched with her plain dark blue shirt. Her hair was thrown up into a messy bun, wispy hairs falling around her face as it looks as though it’s been up all day and she hasn’t cared to fix it. Overall, she looks comfortable and at ease - as she should be in her own home. He had wondered if she ever dressed down, seeing as he had only ever seen her after a day of work dressed in trendy high fashion, but somehow casual clothing. Christmas pajamas suit her, he thinks with a smile.

Y/N gets a hold of the bag of pretzels she’s talking about and opens it, taking one out for herself right away to bite down on before turning to Harry who’s standing in her kitchen. She smiles at the pretzel and lifts the bag to him. Harry takes a few steps towards her before reaching into the bag and grabbing one for himself. He brings it to his mouth and Y/N watches for his reaction. His jaw flexes as he chews down on the sweet yet salty treat. 

Harry hums and nods, reaching into the bag again, “not bad,” he says before chewing on another one. Y/N smiles and passes him the bag all together, turning towards the stove top to turn on the kettle already filled with water. 

“Can you find two mugs in that cabinet?” Y/N asks Harry as she looks to her left and sees him standing in front of the cabinet that held her many mugs and glasses. She points to it and Harry nods. He puts the bag of pretzels down after sneaking one last one into his mouth, and opens the cabinet door to reveal Y/N’s collection of mugs. He goes for the two at the front, which were Christmas themed, of course; one shaped like the Grinch and the other like Santa. As he sets them down on the counter in front of him, beside the bag of pretzels that he sticks his hand into again, he notices a glass container full of brown powder that he assumes is her hot chocolate mix. 

“Is this your hot chocolate mix?” He asks, just to be sure.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, “I honestly make myself a cup almost every night during the colder seasons.” 

“Are you a coffee or tea person?” Harry asks, keeping his eyes on the container as he twists it open and sees a metal teaspoon measuring cup inside already. He starts to scoop some into each mug as he waits for Y/N’s answer. Although he is very aware of her possibly liking coffee, considering how he’s seen her with many Starbucks cups before. 

“Yeah, I enjoy both too. I have way too much coffee during my work days, and tea reminds me of the days at my grandparents,” she explains, watching Harry scoop her preferred amount of mix into each mug without even asking. She smiles softly, seeing him reach for yet another pretzel too. 

“Are you saying tea is for old people?” Harry questions, raising a brow as he peers at Y/N in the corner of his eye. Y/N rolls her eyes, a smile still on her lips. Her kettle begins to squeal into the air, but she’s quick to turn and take it off the heat. She turns off the stove and uses a tea towel to bring it over to the mugs - Harry steps back out of her way, but not before grabbing the bag of pretzels. 

“Old people and the British too, of course,” Y/N teases. 

Harry chuckles, “of course,” he says in agreement. He waits till Y/N fills the mugs and sets the kettle back down on the stovetop before he steps back to the counter and wraps a hand around the handle of the Grinch mug. Y/N is quick, stepping towards him and gently slapping his hand. 

Harry flinches his hand away and raises a brow at Y/N, jokingly taken back by her action. Y/N bites down on her bottom lip to prevent herself from giggling over how cute that look on his face was. 

“I have whipped cream that’s in a can, but it’s still good,” Y/N states, giving him a look that said ‘back off and let me do this’. Harry only chuckles again and nods. “Also slow down on the pretzels, if I don’t get any during the movie I’ll be very upset.”

“They’re addicting, sorry,” Harry mumbles through his mouth full of pretzels, a smile tugging at his mouth. 

“Trust me, I know. That’s like my fourth bag this week, I swear,” she states with a chuckle. 

As Y/N walks to her fridge Harry steps up to the mugs once more and takes a chance on the drawer directly under them for a spoon. His instincts are right as he pulls the drawer open to see her utensils; he grabs a teaspoon in order to stir the hot chocolate. Y/N turns back from the fridge with the whipped cream can in hand, turning around to see Harry focused on the mugs. She smiles, tilting her head as she watches him nudge the drawer closed with his hip, and begin to stir the contents of them till the powder was all mixed in with the water. Look at them being all domestic, she thinks. Licking her lips, she shakes her head a little and walks up to Harry, shaking the can of whipped cream and waits for him to finish stirring. He sets the spoon in the sink and watches as Y/N tops off the mugs with a heap of whipped cream. 

“You better actually eat the whipped topping this time,” Harry says to her teasingly, referring to when they had hot chocolate in the park, and she let her whipped cream melt. Y/N chuckles and brings the tip of the whipped cream can to her open mouth. 

She puts pressure on the top again and makes the sweet cream pile into her mouth as she tips her head back, the aerosol can is the only noise in the room as Harry watches her do it. His breath catches in his throat and he blinks several times as he imagines an entirely different scenario with this whipped cream can and her mouth. Y/N brings the whipped cream away from her mouth and swallows, watching Harry do the same thing - did she make him feel uncomfortable? She thinks to herself as she licks her lips and looks down at the ground. Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it, she thinks while walking back to the fridge to return the whipped cream to the shelf. When she turns back, she sees that Harry has both mugs in his hands. 

“Maybe I should just have both of these, since you’re probably full from that mouth full of whipped cream,” Harry teases her, bringing both mugs to his lips, acting as if he’s going to slurp up the whipped topping that’s nearly flowing over the side.

“Absolutely not,” Y/N gasps, reaching forward quickly for the Grinch mug, but Harry moves it out of her grasp faster. 

“I want the Grinch one,” he says with a slight whine to his voice. Y/N can’t stop the giggle this time, blushing afterwards as she thinks of how freaking adorable he is. 

“Fine,” she sighs and takes the Santa mug from him instead.  

Harry grins and lets her lead the way back into her living room, the bag of pretzels in his other hand. Y/N sets her mug down on the coaster on the coffee table, just like she had with her glass of wine the last time Harry was over. He watches as she sits cross legged on the floor in front of her tv stand. Y/N grabs the two movies she was debating over earlier in each hand and lifts them up for Harry to see. He loves them both of course. 

“Which one? I can’t decide,” Y/N states. Harry hums and lifts his mug to his lip to slurp up some whipped cream. 

“Elf,” Harry answers, “I’m in a Will Ferrel comedy kind of mood,” he adds. 

“Alright,” Y/N chuckles under her breath and turns away from Harry to open her DVD player and then open the case for Elf. He liked that she had the movies on physical DVD, not just clicking away on a streaming app. She places the DVD in the player and then closes it again before standing up quickly and skipping over to the couch, plopping down excitedly but gently that Harry isn’t even scared that he’ll spill his hot chocolate. 

“We can watch the other one next time,” Harry suggests, feeling brave in the moment as the trailers start to play softly on the screen and Y/N is reaching for the remote that sat on the coffee table. She looks at him and smiles.

“‘kay, yeah, next time,” she pauses but then points the remote at Harry. “But next time you’re hosting, I feel like we should switch it up sometimes,” she adds and waits to see Harry nod with a smile before she turns to the TV and gets to the main menu of the movie.

“Fair, I just think my place lacks the holiday cheer that we would want,” Harry explains. Y/N stops her from hitting play right away and leans back into the couch, flopping her head to the side to look at Harry. He’s still holding his mug, which reminds her that her own is sitting there untouched, so she sits up again and grabs it.

“Well you know what would fix that?” She questions, bringing the mug to her lips and slurping up some of the whipped cream that was in fact already melting. Harry watches her as her eyes are glued to her mug, focused on not spilling it over the sides it seems. 

“Decorations?” He asks, still watching her. He smiles as she licks her upper lip that’s covered in melting whipped cream.

“Exactly,” she nods enthusiastically. She takes another few sips of her hot chocolate before leaning back into her couch once again, getting all snuggled up before lifting the remote to the TV and hitting play.

“I’m not really good with decorating - my sister and mom did my apartment to be honest,” Harry admits. Y/N watches the opening scene of one of her favourite Christmas movies, feeling all giddy inside as it’s the first time she’s watching it this holiday season. She gets like this every year with every holiday movie.

“Well, I can help you out. Maybe we can do a little trip to Target before our next movie night. Then do a quick set up and then watch the movie after,” Y/N suggests, nervously peering over at Harry over the rim of her mug after. She doesn’t know if she’s crossing a line or anything. She just wants to spend more time with him, even if it’s just as friends. 

Harry gives Y/N a half smile, one of his dimples making an appearance as he looks into her eyes. He would love that, honestly. The idea of them wandering through the Christmas isles at Target as she gives him advice on what decorations would go together and fit his apartment style; they would set up the decorations after and he’d watch her be in her element. Maybe he’d put on some Christmas music and hope she would dance around. Harry gives Y/N a short nod. 

“I like that plan,” Harry tells her. 

Y/N smiles and nods back at him. “Then it’s a deal, we’ll set a time after the movie. It’s about to get good,” she says, looking back at the TV screen again as Will Ferrel’s character makes his appearance. 

“The whole movie is good,” Harry states. 

“Shh,” Y/N hushes him, taking another sip of her drink and keeping her eyes on the movie. Harry smiles and watches her watch Elf. He notices her hand gently tapping the cushion between them after a moment. Harry chuckles under his breath and nudges the bag of pretzels open, taking a few for himself before facing the bag her way. Once she’s got one between her teeth she feels completely content. 

She’s got a cup of yummy hot chocolate, her favourite snack, Christmas lights are twinkling around her, one of her favourite Christmas movies is playing, and she’s with good company too. In fact, she finds herself not once thinking of Mark the rest of the night. Even in her dreams, it’s Harry, again. 

They exchanged phone numbers. It’s not a big deal, Harry thinks to himself as he gets a third text from his newest contact in his phone. But it felt like a big deal; it was an easy way to get a hold of her whenever he needed to or wanted to even. Not that he would just bother her for no good reason. As much as he’d like to text with her all day, he knows that they really just exchanged phone numbers in order to plan to hangout easily. Like for today, Y/N had a long work day, but still wanted to take Harry Christmas decor shopping, so she was asking him if he could just meet her at the closest Target. 

There’s one a few blocks away from the apartment, I’ll send you the location, are you able to meet me there? She texts along with a Google Maps link to the store. Harry tapped out a response right away, letting his focus sway away from the TV show he had on when her name lit up his screen. 

Sounds good to me, what time? Harry hits send and notices the bubble with three dots pop up right away. She must have a moment at work right now; he checks the time to see it’s just past noon, assuming she’s on her lunch break. 

I should be leaving the office by 3pm today, then it’s like a 15 minutes subway ride and 5 minute walk to get there for me. So like 3:30ish, is that okay with you? Wait. Are you busy today? I didn’t even ask if you were working too, sorry. She sends the texts in a few separate bubbles, realizing that she didn’t even ask if Harry was working or not today. Y/N has no idea what the schedule of a songwriter was like. Harry chuckles at her little panic and types out his response. 

Super busy…. Watching mindless TV shows on Netflix. He adds a laughing emoji for good measure, to which Y/N replies with some of her own laughing emojis before saying God I wish that was how my day was going. 

Y/N ends up texting Harry her whole lunch break. He asks about what she’s been doing today, his responses seeming very interested in the adventures she has had in the office being a stand in model since her measurements were close to a clients. She then asks what show he’s watching, to which he tells her about this Netflix baking show called Sugar Rush and he tells her about the challenge the contestants on the most recent episode endured. Y/N finds herself smiling at her screen, nearly forgetting to even eat her lunch. Sammy clears his throat just a few minutes before their time is up and causes her to look up at him, raising her eyebrows at his own. 

“What?” She asks, stabbing her fork into the salad she had Sammy pick up for her earlier. 

“Nothing,” Sammy hums, Y/N rolls her eyes. “Just noticed you’ve been quite busy on that phone of yours for the past, oh, I don’t know, twenty five minutes,” Sammy teases her, eyes widening slightly and motioning his hands in the air with his words. He did that a lot, talking with his hands, that is. 

“So?” Y/N tries to brush off her friend's pushy behaviour. 

“So? Really? We’re just going to act as if you’re not giggling at your phone screen like a little school girl?” Sammy questions. 

“I am not doing that,” Y/N huffs. 

“Yeah, sure, sweetie and I’m straight,” Sammy rolls his eyes dramatically and then pouts while shaking his body in his seat. Y/N furrows her brows at his behaviour. “I live off your love life. Please give me something, anything. Please just tell me that you’re talking to that hot neighbour of yours and let me continue on my merry little day knowing that your love life is about to be thriving while mine is dead.” 

Y/N sighs and tries to ignore as her phone vibrates again, signalling that Harry had texted her back. She sits back in her chair and crosses her arms over his chest, covering the deep v-cut of her black body suit that she was wearing with a pair of red slim legged slacks, and a matching red blazer that was currently laying over the back of the chair she sat in. Amanda didn’t have any sort of dress code for work, merely to come in looking professional and stylish, which for Y/N, meant a good pant suit moment every once in a while. But with still keeping it sexy and young by pairing it with a bodysuit. 

“Fine, I’m texting Harry,” Y/N tells Sammy, feeding into his gossip need for the day. “We actually hung out two night ago, he came over for a movie night-”

“What?! Why am I just hearing about this now?” Sammy questions, sitting up quickly and throwing his hands in the air. “What happened? Touching? Did you kiss? Oh my lord, tell me what his peni-”

“Sammy! Oh my god, relax, please,” Y/N cuts him off, putting a hand up to stop him from talking. “Nothing happened. Sorry to disappoint, but I am still in a relationship with Mark. Harry just came over, we made some hot chocolate and polished off a bag of those delicious candy cane pretzels.”

“Those pretzels are good,” Sammy nods in agreement.

“Yeah,” Y/N nods, “but anyways, nothing happened, and nothing is going to happen. We’re just friends, and I enjoy being around him a lot. So, today after work we’re going to Target to buy his apartment some decorations, then we’ll probably order in some food and watch another movie.” 

“Sounds pretty couple-y to me,” Sammy says in a high pitched tone. Y/N just shakes her head and rolls her eyes at her friend again. 

Y/N couldn’t lie, though. The few hours later in Target, they looked like a couple. Harry pushes the cart down the aisle while she tilts her head and debates which tinsel really fit Harry’s aesthetic. She brings the Starbucks cup to her lips and sips the warm caramel flavoured latte. Y/N was pleasantly surprised when she saw Harry walking up to her outside the Target with two Starbucks holiday cups in his hand. He gave her a timid smile and explained what both of the drinks were, saying he hadn’t tasted either and wanted to see what she wanted first before taking the other for himself. It was unexpected and ridiculously sweet of him to do. 

“I think red would look really nice around your apartment, kind of spice up the place a little,” Y/N explains, her free hand skimming over the many different tinsels that were hanging up before her. Harry agrees, red would look nice in his apartment and spice things up a lot, except his mind is thinking of this red pant suit she’s wearing right now. He thinks it would look rather nice on his bedroom floor.

When she walked up to him and he took in her outfit, he nearly tripped over his own feet and spilled the two coffees he brought with him. But he kept himself together, well, sort of. He stumbled over his words, rambled like a fool about why he got the two coffees for her, but they finally got into the store, which now, he’s just been checking her out as they walked to the Christmas section. Get it together, Harry thinks to himself. 

“Red’s nice,” Harry says, his voice cracking slightly. So, he clears his throat and steps away from the cart to pick up a piece of tinsel that Y/N was looking at. “I like the bit of silver mixed in too,” he comments. 

“I was thinking the same thing,” she says with a smile before grabbing four more of the same one and adding it to the cart. Harry does the same with the one in his hand and then puts his hands on the cart once more, pushing it back and forth just a few inches. Harry can’t stop himself from admiring that suit once more as she bends down to check out the many different boxes of tree ornaments. 

“Which ones?” Y/N asks, quickly turning her body. Y/N catches his gaze on her body, but Harry blinks quickly and meets her stare. The corner of her lips tug up into a smug smile at the thought of Harry checking her out. 

“The ones in your, uh, your right hand,” Harry answers her questions, clearing his throat again and watching as she stands straight before putting the ornaments into the cart. 

They continue their way through Target, still looking very much like a couple as they grab a few bags of the candy cane pretzels that Y/N got Harry hooked on the other night before heading to the check out. Harry insists on paying for the few little items of Y/N’s in the cart, telling her over and over again that it wasn’t a huge deal. He almost doesn’t let her carry a single thing, but she quickly gets a hold of a standing Santa decoration that was too big for a bag and hugs it to her chest their whole walk home. 

Harry unlocks his apartment door for them, noticing how their neighbour Mr Matthers is opening his at the same time to peer out and see who’s in the hallway. Harry holds open the door for Y/N, she thanks him in a small voice and smiles at him. Looking back out into the hallway, Harry waves at Mr Matthers, who simply returns it with a scowl on his face before Harry steps inside and shuts the door behind him. Suppose their neighbour is a bit jealous of Harry, he’s seen the way he looks at Y/N. Hell, especially today in that suit, everyone on the street was looking at Y/N with wide eyes and big smiles - Harry felt like quite the lucky guy, little did everyone know they were in fact not together. Just friends, Harry reminds himself for the millionth time. 

“Oh, I love the tree,” Y/N states, her voice bringing Harry back to Earth as he locks the door and walks over to his coffee table to set down the many bags in his arms. Y/N is still holding the Santa decoration to her chest, looking at the fake Christmas tree he had purchased on Amazon yesterday on a whim. He was thinking about them decorating together again, and thought that it wouldn’t feel right if he didn't have a tree too. It’s a good thing he told Y/N over text, otherwise they wouldn’t have gotten ornaments or anything for it. 

“Yeah, I just got the first one that included lights on Amazon, to be honest,” Harry tells her. Y/N chuckles and walks over, setting the Santa decoration just beside the tree gently. 

She brushes a hand over the tree and smiles, “it’s wonderful, really pulls the whole festive look together in my opinion.”

“I agree,” Harry nods. He grabs for the TV remote and turns it on, quickly turning the volume down before he sets it up to the music channels - clicking on the Christmas tunes without a second thought. Y/N watches Harry, her heart hammering in her chest as the soft sounds of Michael Buble fills the room. Mark would never do any of this - he wouldn’t voluntarily put on Christmas music, ever. In fact, he shut off the station in her car on the way to the airport. And he definitely wouldn’t decorate with her either, seeing as he thinks that her apartment looks childish. She pouts at the thought of her and Mark’s phone call the other day. He hasn’t called or texted her since.

“Did you not want to listen to Christmas music?” Harry asks suddenly, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts and turns to look at him. He’s taking off his jacket, revealing a white shirt underneath with a bumble bee and some blue writing around it, paired with his purple trousers and a pair of white socks on his feet after slipping out of his shoes too. Y/N loves his simple yet not basic style.

“No, no,” Y/N assures him, finally unbuttoning her blazer now and taking off the mittens and beanie she had worn in the cold. She stuffs them into the blazer pocket and slips out of it. “I love Christmas music so much, honestly maybe a little too much, Mark hates it,” she admits. 

A shiver falls over her body as she realizes then she’s simply in the rather thin bodysuit that also dipped very low in the front. Y/N doesn’t look at Harry as she feels her nipples harder from the coolness of his apartment, embarrassed as she didn’t prepare for her attire after going out. Harry suddenly lifts up a hand, his pointer finger up as if to say ‘one second’, then he’s walking down the hallways and returns not even a minute later with a black sweater in hand. 

“It’s clean, just washed today, I promise,” Harry tells her, holding out one of his favourite jumpers for her. He had been given a few merchandising pieces from the label over the years and this plain black jumper that read ‘Columbia’ on the front in white has been in his possession for a couple years now. In his opinion, it was very comfortable due to how much he’s worn it.

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly while taking it from him. 

She puts it on and is immediately warmer. Her hands cover completely because of how long the sleeves are and it falls down past her bum too, due to the large size. She looks good, Harry thinks as he takes in her wearing his clothing. Y/N smiles and turns to grab things from the Target bags they had just brought in. 

“Okay, let’s begin with the tree then,” she says excitedly, trying to clap her hands together but just ends up smacking the sleeves of Harry’s hoodie together.

It’s just as Harry imagined it. The soft lights from the Christmas tree glow over the shadows of Y/N’s face as she wraps the red tinsel around the base of it before passing it to Harry in order for him to reach the taller portion of the tree. She dances when Jingle Bell Rock plays on the TV, his jumper swaying around her body because of how big it is on her. They’re both smiling and singing along to the music, jokingly of course. Harry wasn’t about to show her all his little secrets and start belting out White Christmas along with the singers of Wham!

“Can you pass me a couple of the silver balls?” Y/N asks Harry, her eyes on the tree as she put the last red ball ornament she had grabbed onto a branch. Harry raises his eyebrows in a joking manner. 

“The what?” He questions, but still making his way to where the array of different coloured ball ornaments laid on the couch. 

“Like two of the balls,” she says again. Harry laughs, his eyes crinkling up and his dimples fully showing as he does. Y/N furrows her brows, but then gets why he’s laughing. “You’re a child,” she scolds him playfully. 

“I couldn’t help myself,” Harry states, grabbing two of the ornaments she’s asking for and passing them to her. 

“Thank you for the balls, Harry,” she says. They both end up laughing this time, she can’t help it. His laughter is contagious with how his eyes squint up and his dimple somehow deepens, not to mention the little vocal ‘aha’ he does before laughing. It makes Y/N’s stomach ache, not from laughing too, but with the butterflies. Those stupid little butterflies that have made a home inside of her stomach since meeting this kind, handsome, British man. 

Once the tree is done, Y/N beats Harry to ordering them food. They decide on getting sushi, which is something she could never order with Mark since he has this personal vendetta against seafood for some reason. But Mark isn’t on her mind for long. It’s all Harry, all the freaking time. She likes how he beams a winning smile at the delivery guy and thanks him three times in the sixty seconds he’s at his door, and how he barely pays his phone any attention the whole night besides when it chimes with a few texts that he explains is his workmates group chat. Now, she can’t stop watching him chew his food; how his jaw flexes with each bite and how his eyebrows furrow when he can’t get the chopsticks to grab the California roll he wanted. Why do I find him eating so attractive? Y/N shakes her head slightly and forces herself to look back at the TV that’s playing the Sugar Rush show on Netflix that Harry was texting her about earlier. 

Harry collects their take out containers after a few moments to ensure that Y/N is done, asking her just to be sure she doesn’t want the two pieces that are left over. She thanks him, but says no, and he manages to grab all five containers in one trip to the kitchen. His mom most definitely raised him well, Y/N thinks as she lays back on his couch and watches the TV show. It suddenly hits Y/N, his brows pulling together as she pushes herself to sit up and turns her body to look behind her through the open concept to look at Harry. 

“Are you going home for Christmas?” She asks him. Y/N assumed home was England, besides obvious factors, but she remembers him telling her about driving in London once. Harry brushes his hands on a tea towel that's hanging off his stove before turning to walk back into the living room. 

“Um, no, not this year,” Harry says. 

“Oh, do you typically go home and visit your family? You mentioned your mom and sister had decorated this place though, do they live here?” She throws the other questions his way as he walks around the couch and sits in his spot again. 

“They all live in England, yeah,” he nods, “my mom, my step dad, older sister and her boyfriend all flew out here with me to help me settle in the few years back when I got my job. But I do usually go home for holidays, or just casually during the summer. Earlier this year I had to make an unexpected trip,” Harry pauses and clears his throat as he looks away from Y/N as he feels that familiar pain in his chest, “my step dad passed away. So it just took a bit of money out of my account, I decided not to fork out the money for expensive flights during the holidays.”

Hearing that Harry had lost his step dad recently torn Y/N’s heart in two. She frowns, taking a deep breath before reaching over and placing a hand over Harry’s that rested folded in his lap. Harry looks at where their skin touched, it felt like his hands were vibrating under her touch. She swipes her thumb over his knuckles, the touch so soft like a feather just barely skimming over his skin. Harry has to stop himself from flipping his hand over slowly and intertwining their fingers together. She has a boyfriend, she’s just being a good person and comforting a friend. 

“I’m very sorry to hear about your step dad, Harry,” she soft and gentle voice, rubbing the pad of her thumb over his knuckle again as she watches him inhale deeply through his nose. 

Harry clears his throat of the threatening tears and shakes his head slightly, a piece of his hair falling onto his forehead as he does. He takes one of his hands and lays it over Y/N’s, giving it a few pats. Tonight had been good

and fun, and he didn’t want to go ruining the mood with his tears. So, he lifts his head and looks at Y/N, finding her somber eyes staring at him already. He forces a smile, licking his lips before clearing his throat again. 

“Thank you,” he says, “I don’t want to make this good night all emotional now, so yeah, the short answer is I’m not leaving the city for the holidays this year. I do have a trip planned in March to see my mum for mothers day though,” Harry explains, rubbing Y/N’s hand that’s between his. 

Y/N mirrors his smile, although it’s not as full as usual, a bit sad still as she thinks about what Harry and his family must’ve gone through this year - and that his mother won’t see her son her first Christmas without her husband to top it all off. Maybe she could buy his flights? But no, no she couldn’t, she thinks sadly. They sit there like that for another moment, her hand between his much larger once, and they stare at each other. Finally, Y/N lets out a sigh and tries to get out of her head before she ends up crying. Harry lets go of her hand slowly, and she brings both hands to her face to brush back her hair. Harry does the same to get the strand of hair that had fallen on his forehead back into place. 

“Well I’m glad you can go see your mom for mothers day, at least,” Y/N says, looking at the positive. Harry nods and then leans back, throwing an arm over the back of the couch to stretch out.

“Yeah, me too,” he agrees, “she’s already telling me all about the plans she’s made for my trip and talks my ear right off as if it’s happening tomorrow.” Harry tells Y/N with a chuckle.

Hearing his little laugh brings a real smile to her face this time. “I’m sure she’s counting the days till you fly in,” Y/N says. She is starting to feel a little tired as she lays back on the couch, laying her legs out on the chaise. Harry watches as she pulls the sleeves of his jumper back down, she had rolled them up while eating so they didn’t get in the way, but he likes the sweater paw look on her as she snuggles into the couch. 

“Do you spend Christmas at home still?” Harry asks her, keeping his voice soft as he realizes it’s gotten late and both their eyelids are getting heavy. 

“My parents have something on Christmas Eve, sometimes I spend the night, other times I make my way home,” she exclaims vaguely. 

Y/N doesn’t love her times at home anymore; she finds her parents ‘I’m too rich for anything' attitude to be tiresome. As she grew up into her own person, she realized the privilege she had with the wealth she grew up with. She started to see how pointless some parties her mother threw, and how little she would have to try to just coast through life. Y/N didn’t want to grow up like every other bratty kid on the Upper East Side, so she moved out right after graduation, got into fashion school, focused on herself, and earned her own money - all while learning of how to use her privilege for good, like donating her time and money to good causes. Something her parents only did to look good within their social circle. 

So, going back home for over the top holiday parties, getting gifted a new car every year, and seeing her parents throw their money at whatever, really only bothered her more than anything. Y/N would simply stop in for Christmas Eve, enjoy a few hours with family and then go home to her own world again. 

A yawn slips past Y/N’s mouth as she’s deep in thought, which then makes Harry yawn as the both of them bring their hands to cover their mouth and then letting out soft laughter afterwards. Y/N sits up and stretches both arms above her head. “I guess I should head home,” she says before standing up slowly. 

“Yeah, you’ve got a long way to go,” Harry jokes. 

“Oh yeah, it’ll take me ages,” Y/N adds onto the joke with a smile. “Thank you for having me over, I really enjoyed it,” she says. 

Harry nods, “well thank you for helping me with all this,” he says, motioning to the decorating they had done. They both glance around the room then at their work. The red and silver decor matched Harry’s aesthetic perfectly, just as Y/N thought it would. 

“We didn’t watch Polar Express,” Y/N realizes suddenly, pouting. 

“Next time, Y/N,” Harry chuckles. She huffs and lets out a sigh, muttering a quiet ‘fine’ before making her way towards his front door. Harry follows behind her, planning to lock the door and listen till she gets into her own apartment before getting ready for bed. 

“Should I text you when I’m home safe? It’s just so far away,” Y/N continues to joke around, causing Harry to smile as he watches her grab her blazer and slip into her shoes. 

“You never know, Mr Matthers across the hall could intercept you on the way home and kidnap you. I wouldn’t sleep till I got that text knowing you got home safely,” Harry says, half joking. Cause you never know with Mr Matthers, he thinks. Y/N laughs and hugs her blazer to her stomach while standing beside the door, reaching for the handle but keeping her gaze on him.

“Mr Matthers is harmless,” Y/N says. 

“He’s obsessed with you,” Harry counters back. Y/N just rolls her eyes and unlocks the door before swinging it open. 

“Goodnight Harry,” she says sweetly. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry says back with a smile. She mirrors his smile and then walks off into the hallway. Harry watches the door shut behind her and walks over to lock it before turning off the few lights in the living room and entryway. As he is turning off his TV his phone buzzes with an incoming text. 

Made it home safely and in bed! Sweet dreams read Y/N’s text sent seconds ago. Harry breathes out a chuckle as he walks down the hallway to his bathroom to begin his nightly routine. As he turns on the light for his bathroom he types back a response. Cheeky.. Sweet dreams Y/N. He turns off the screen before he stands there and waits for her to reply with anything, his heart would even flutter over an emoji.

He was so far gone for this girl, he couldn’t stop himself from falling any longer - but it had felt inevitable from the moment his eyes had met hers in the elevator.  

>> part three <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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[beccascribbles]

hello can i request where suna, akaashi and osamu have a short gf and she just wants a kiss but he teases her and doesnt bend down to kiss her so she gets pouty and kind of ignores him all day even when he tries to talk to her

a/n - this one was so fun to write! i've never written for suna before so i hope you liked the way i portrayed his character. hope you enjoy!

call him sadistic but he loves the sight of you pouting up at him, straining to reach him

hands rest on his shoulders to help push you up further on your tiptoes

even with this, you are not close enough to place a kiss on his lips... and he knows this, smirks down at you lazily

"kiss me," you whine, much to his amusement

while an arm wraps around your waist, his head tilts up, leaving you with the perfect view of the bottom of his chin

you let out a frustrated sigh, hand coming down to smack at his chest as you lower back down

chuckling, he just holds you closer, ignoring the way you push against him to get free. suna knows you're pissed off but that just makes it more fun

finally, you wiggle free, shooting him a glare before stalking off towards the twins

he makes his way over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, leaning slightly on you as he joins the conversation

stubbornly, you ignore him, acting oblivious to his presence, acting as if your s/o isn't currently leant against you

each comment he makes is passed over by you, a look of confusion flashing across your face if one of the twins reply to suna

"what are you talking about?" you question, feigning confusion as osamu replies to suna. mischief flashes in both of their eyes and they join you in ignoring suna

he is quickly becoming more irritable, finally stalking away from you. if he isn't going to be included in a conversation, why waste his energy?

this goes on for the rest of the day, you stubbornly refusing to speak to him

he finally snaps when you are walking home in silence, you acting as if he isn't currently holding your hand. all of his statements go unanswered, even ones which would normally elicit a laugh. he changes tact

"how was your day?"

it is met with silence, deafening silence. with a sigh, patience finally breaking, he tugs you around to face him. "if i kiss you, will you stop being such a brat?"

your gaze isn't focused on him, instead looking at something in the distance, just past his chest

this is the last straw. his hand comes down to grip your neck and he tilts your head up, finally connecting your lips in a kiss

you let out a satisified hum, sinking into the kiss as your hands go up to grip at his shoulders

he pulls away, eyes assessing as he takes in your grin of satisfaction

"i hate you," he states, watching the way your smile just grows wider

"don't lie to yourself," you tease, taking his hand and beginning to walk home again

he's not really the type to tease you. honestly, he finds it bothersome and pointless most of the time. however, there are times when the desire to deny you just takes over him

today is one of those days

you were feeling particularly needy that day and were currently curled up next to him on the sofa, head resting against his shoulder as you watched the tv. his arm was wrapped around you securely, hand resting on your hip bone

when he got up to go get a drink, you pulled at his arm, leaning up with the intention of getting a peck on the lips

instead, he ruffled your hair affectionately before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with a small pout he secretly found adorable

this circumstance wasn't what tipped you over the edge and made you ignore him

it was later, when you came up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, chin resting on his chest as you peered up at him

"keiji," you said softly, causing him to look down at you with an soft grin. "can you give me a kiss?"

his hand brushed lightly against your cheek. it almost looked as if he were about to kiss you

then he turned away

frustrated, you tugged at his top, vausing him to look down at you curiously again

"kiss me," you begged. he seemed to consider it for a moment

"no"

that simple response with no elaboration infuriates you so much that you push away from him and storm into the other room. if he didn't want to kiss you, he could at least explain why

"stupid prick," you mumble as you sit on the sofa with a huff. "i'll show him"

for the rest of the day, you refuse to acknowledge him, fiddling on your phone, pretending you don't hear him. at one point, you turned the tv up to block him out, commenting on some annoying buzz in the background

by this point, he's had enough. this is why he rarely does it. it's because you get in a huff and act like a baby

"you're being immature, y/n," he states, watching you from the other end of the sofa. you simply huff. "is this really because i wouldn't kiss you? if you're that desperate, you would have found a way"

that statement irks you and you finally look at him, mouth opening to fire back a response. "if you weren't so fricking tall, i wouldn't have to beg you"

he simply sighs. he could comment on the fact that you are just exceptionally short, but you are talking to him again and he doesn't want to set you off. he's been punished enough

"come here," he says, opening up his arms for you. you happily crawl into his lap, curling up against his chest

"can i get a kiss now?"

he hums in response, gripping your chin with his finger and thumb, tilting your head up. lightly, he brushes his lips against yours

"aww, does someone want a kiss?" he teases, easily resisting your attempts to lower him

you flick him in the shoulder, probably a bit harder than necessary

"come on, samu," you moan, head tilted upwards as you look at him, balanced rather precariously on your tiptoes. "stop being stupid and kiss me already"

if you hadn't called him stupid, he probably would have kissed you right then. but, hearing the insult makes him want to tease you for a bit longer

"it's such a shame you can't reach," he goades, noting the way your eyes narrowed as you glared at him

"maybe atsumu will kiss me then," you spat, walking off with a slight stomp to your step (it's not to find atsumu, though that is what he is thinking, but to piss off osamu. you also acknowledge that hanging around in the corridor for much longer would make you late for class so pissing osamu off is just an added bonus)

the thought of you running to atsumu gives him pause, almost makes him reach out for you. then he realises the time and knows that you, being the studious person you are, would be heading to class

he assumes the space will give you time to cool your head before you come back to his after school

this assumption is proved incorrect when you fall into step beside atsumu, blanking your boyfriend and instead striking up a conversation with his twin

atsumu shoots osamu a wide, teasing grin, smug at the thought of being the one your attention is focused on. osamu's fists clench. this is low, even for you

when you arrive at his house, you follow atsumu to the living room and collapse onto the sofa beside him, asking him what he wants to watch

osamu watches from the doorway, his jaw clenching. he needs to do something, anything, to make you look at him

of course, his mind goes to food. he knows how much you love his cooking and is fully going to take advantage of that

he disappears into the kitchen and, after about ten minutes, you look around in search of him

"samu's in the kitchen," explains atsumu, gesturing in that direction. "probably making you something so that you talk to him again"

after a little while longer, which you pass chatting with atsumu about the programme on tv (it's a reality tv show, a guilty pleasure both of the twins enjoy indulging in), osamu appears from the kitchen holding a plate of onigiri

he puts it on the table in front of you, smacking atsumu's hand away when he reaches for the food

"will you talk to me now?" he asks as you stuff the food in your mouth

your lips pull up into a grin and you wrap a hand around his wrist, pulling him down beside you. you really don't have the heart to torture him anymore

you place a kiss to his cheek as he wraps an arm around you to hold you close. "this is really good. new recipe?"

"i've been working out the kinks for a while," he says, perking up as he launches into an explanation about what he changed and more

you make eye contact with atsumu, rolling your eyes slightly at the sudden animated energy taking over your boyfriend

and to think, he still hasn't bothered to give you a kiss yet