#yes it does mean I am forced to have a regular sleep schedule

[hard-core-super-star]

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [K.Bishop]

pairing: vampire!kate bishop x reader

summary: a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

warnings: yes, i still suck at summaries, shhh SMUT -> minors, you know the drill, walk away now [porn with almost too much plot; blood and fangs and all the stereotypically hot vampire things; so many neck kisses it should be illegal; fingering {R receiving}; kate being a tease and owning it; praise + degradation + two seconds of humiliation]

wordcount: 3.3k

a/n: do i have like ten requests sitting in my inbox rn? yes. was this idea going to leave me alone if i didn't write it? no. i've been trying to finish this fic since JULY, GUYS, AND I NEED IT OUT OF MY DRAFTS AND INTO THE WORLD! it wasn't supposed to be smut, but i couldn't help it. i don't think i'll have time to do any real kinktober-type fics so enjoy this little treat instead. ALSO, a lot of the vampire dynamics/lore in this fic was inspired by first kill so go check it out if you haven't seen it.

* * * * * * *

You were working yet another late night at Bishop Security. A normal occurrence considering your boss’s distaste for coming into the office when the sun is high in the sky. She almost never comes in before 3 PM and almost always stays in until way past midnight.

Pretty much everyone who works for her hates her unusual schedule, claiming she’s way too new to her position to be slacking off so much. Everyone seems to share that view…everyone except you since being her secretary means you get to share her schedule.

Which conveniently means you get to sleep in most days.

She’s never offered an explanation, not that you’ve ever tried asking her about it, but the rumor swirling around is that she’s too busy partying and sleeping around to bother showing up at the office at a regular time.

You don’t doubt the validity of that rumor but you’re also sure it’s not the whole story. There have been times when Kate has forced you to leave at 2 AM while she’s stayed behind to write up a report or prepare for her next meeting.

She’s young and reckless and way too rich for her own good but she’s not completely irresponsible or arrogant. Unfortunately, the media loves making up stories about the ‘Tony Stark of Bishop Security’ almost as much as your co-workers love gossiping.

Maybe if those rumors held more truth to them you wouldn’t be where you are right now: speed-walking out of the building and trying to make it to your car before something bad happens. You’re aware of the irony of working at a security company yet being terrified of walking through the parking lot. But hey! It’s New York City, your fears are more than valid.

You’re too busy arguing with yourself about said irony to notice the person sneaking up behind you until they forcefully grab your shoulder and slam you into the nearest concrete wall. The force of the push forces all the air out of your lungs, leaving you unprepared for the right hook your attacker throws your way.

The ringing in your ears is the only thing you can focus on for a few seconds. You see their mouth moving and you’re barely able to make out the name ‘Kate Bishop’ before they raise their fist again. You squeeze your eyes shut and wait for the punch to land.

Except it never does.

Your eyes snap open right as your shoulders are grabbed again but this time, the person standing in front of you is none other than Kate Bishop herself. “Hey, hey, it’s alright. Just focus on me. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” You’re pretty sure the pounding in your chest has more to do with the proximity between the two of you than your leftover fear after being attacked. “I just got pushed around a little.”

“More like punched around,” she says with a small chuckle.

“That’s not funny.” Despite your words, a noticeable smile spreads along your face.

Kate’s eyes trail down your face and hone in on your lips. The sudden attention makes you subconsciously lick your lips and a slightly metallic taste fills your mouth. You assume the look on her face is due to her concern over you until you notice the way her pupils dilate as blood gathers on your bottom lip.

“Um…Kate? Are you okay?”

Your voice seems to bring her back to the present moment. She leans back a little before she speaks again. “Yeah, we should probably get out of here.”

You hear her words but your gaze is glued right to her mouth and the two protruding teeth you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen before. For a second, you think you’re imagining things but it’s practically impossible to deny what you’re seeing with the way the light bounces off of her teeth.

You had always thought Kate was hiding something. Something that ran deeper than her long list of ex-lovers or weird schedules. But the place your mind is going to right now seems far too illogical. Superheroes, aliens, even the damn multiverse, everything else seemed much more plausible than vampires.

And yet, the proof is staring right at you with caring blue eyes and a nervous smile that tells you you’re both thinking about the same thing.

“I can explain,” she assures you before extending her hand out for you to take. “But you’re gonna have to come with me.”

“You’re insane.”

She shrugs, not at all phased by your comment. “Maybe a little…I promise I won’t bite.”

You don’t know whether to laugh at her joke or slap that look off her face for having the audacity to make it in the first place. Ultimately, your trust in her wins out and you reach for her hand. It’s just one small choice but you have a feeling it’s going to change everything between the two of you.

She starts to lead you toward her car, ignoring your protests like a real gentleman. You weren’t going to act like you had never imagined Kate taking you back to her apartment but you had imagined it under different, significantly sexier, circumstances.

You get into her car and ignore the way your heart is pounding in your chest. You tell yourself it’s only due to the leftover adrenaline from being attacked but you know it has more to do with the overwhelming smell of the archer than anything else.

A few minutes of silence pass before you work up the courage to start a conversation…even though you know you’re not going to like any of the answers you’re searching for. “What do you think that guy wanted?”

“What guy?” Kate’s eyes remain glued to the road ahead, not giving you a chance to decipher the look on her face. “The one who tried to mug you?”

“He wasn’t trying to mug me, he was looking for you.”

You notice the way her jaw clenches even with the darkness that envelops the car. “Looking for me? What are you talking about?”

“Kate, don’t play stupid with me. You can’t possibly think he broke into a highly secured parking lot just to mug the first random secretary he saw.” Her silence is enough of an answer. “So, who is he and what does he want with you?”

“I can’t tell you that. It’ll only put you in more danger.”

“More danger than that?”

“Yes.” You’re sure you’ve never heard her sound so serious before. “Believe it or not, you finding out about this wasn’t in my plans.”

You’re going to regret asking but your mind has been whirling with thoughts and ideas since you first caught sight of those fangs. “What exactly is…’this’?”

“Exactly what you think it is.”

Her tone leaves no room for questions or arguments. Despite that, the only thing that fills your mind is questions. And answers you don’t want to think about.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, effectively cutting off your flurry of thoughts.

“Why?”

The hunger on her face when she turns to look at you tells you all you need to know. You should probably be scared considering the power she holds over you right now. Not only is she the one driving, she could probably crush you with her bare hands…or sink her sharp fangs into your neck and drain you dry.

Fear is certainly not what you feel at that thought though.

The corners of her mouth quirk up into the cockiest smirk you’ve ever seen. “You’re into some weird stuff, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“What else are you?” The way you shift in your seat doesn’t go unnoticed by the brunette. “Some kind of mind reader?”

“No need,” she replies. “Your scent gave you away.”

Your face heats up at her words but you’re not sure if it’s from embarrassment or something else. Thankfully, she pulls up to her apartment complex before you can dig yourself into a deeper hole.

A weirdly comfortable silence surrounds you as you make your way out of the car and into her apartment. You’ve known Kate for a while and you’ve always felt safe around her, something that not even those sharp fangs can take away. Especially when she places a strong hand on the small of your back while she leads the way.

For someone who’s richer than most people will ever be in their whole life, her apartment isn’t extremely lavish or full of ridiculous decorations. It could even be considered minimalistic if it weren’t for the numerous bows scattered all over the living room, the chewed-up boots near Lucky’s dog bed, and the overwhelming amount of clothes piled up on the couch.

“Sorry, I don’t usually have people over,” she says almost as if reading your mind. “I’m not usually so messy.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, Katherine.”

She makes a disgusted face at the sound of her full name, her expression somewhere between adorable and amusing. “You didn’t have to say it like that.”

You’re about to make another stupid comment when your brain short circuits at the sight of Kate unbuttoning her shirt, the black tank top she always wears underneath straining against her torso and all the muscles you know are hiding out of sight.

The corners of her mouth quirk up just enough to give away the fact that she knows exactly what she’s doing and she’s one-hundred percent doing it on purpose. You’re just grateful she doesn’t verbalize how obvious your breathlessness is.

You attempt to look away from her but she moves her arm just enough for you to notice the dark stain on her shirt. It takes you a second to figure out what it’s from and you mentally curse the brunette for not telling you she had gotten hurt.

“Kate,” you call out once you find your voice again. “You’re bleeding.”

“What?” She looks down at her arm, clearly pretending she hadn’t noticed the wound yet, before shrugging her shoulders. “Oh, yeah, it’s fine.”

“Fine? Why didn’t you tell me you got stabbed?”

“It’s just a scratch.”

She tries to wave you off but it’s too late. You’re already gripping her shoulder and pushing her down onto her overpriced leather couch. “You’re an idiot. Sit down.”

She grumbles something about being able to take care of herself but you don’t listen to a word she says. Instead, your hands reach out for the first-aid kit she keeps on her coffee table.

“Take your shirt off.”

“y/n, if you wanted to see me naked, all you had to do was ask, baby.” Her voice carries that cocky tone that makes you want to punch her and kiss her at the same time.

“Shut up,” you mutter while attempting to look unaffected.

There are too many thoughts swirling around your brain and most of them have to do with Kate doing some very inappropriate things to you, with or without her fangs. The truth is, you can act like you’re only attracted to the danger that could potentially come your way now that you know her secret but she’s always been far too good at scrambling your brain with a few well-placed words.

She finally does what you ask, pushing her shirt off her shoulders and revealing inches of skin you’ve never seen from such close proximity before. You’re able to pass off your clear ogling as concern as you step closer to examine the small knife wound.

It’s only a few inches long but deep enough to have caused her to bleed the entire way here. You wordlessly open up the first-aid kit and start disinfecting the area, doing your best to ignore the soft groans that leave the brunette’s lips.

“Is all of that stuff true?” You ask a few minutes later, the smallest hint of a joke in your tone.

The corners of Kate’s mouth quirk up into a small smirk that tells you she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “What stuff?”

“You know, the stuff about silver and garlic and burning in the sun?”

“Yes to the silver, no to the garlic, and kind of to the sun. I sunburn really easily but I don’t think that’s due to the vampire thing.”

You laugh at her response, the sound nervous yet warm. It’s still too much to wrap your head around but at least she’s not beating around the bush anymore. “How long have you…?”

“All my life,” she replies with an almost inaudible wince as you start to bandage her up. “It’s a long, complicated story but my family and I are descendants of the first vampires to ever exist. We’re legacies.”

“Sounds fancy.”

She chuckles while she shakes her head. “It’s a pain in the ass.”

“I’m sure there are worse things to be.” 

You finish securing the bandage in place right as the words leave your lips. Now that there’s nothing to distract you, you realize how close together the two of you actually are. You’re standing right between Kate’s open legs, the heat of her body warming you up in ways that leave your legs shaky. 

“y/n, I…I’ve done a lot of things that-”

“You don’t have to tell me. I don’t need to know any of that to know I trust you.”

She looks up at you, her usually bright eyes looking soft and vulnerable for the first time in a long time. It’s almost startling how quickly she changes from the cocky and overconfident Kate Bishop everyone knows to this gentle and hesitant version of herself.

A version of her you can't help but love.

Your feelings must be more than obvious by this point but she doesn't push. You've never known her to be slow or patient or particularly sensitive to what other people want and yet she waits.

The seconds feel like hours until her eyes finally drift down to your lips…and the small amount of blood that still coats them.

You shouldn’t be doing this.

The few brain cells that aren’t completely focused on the brunette in front of you tell you to move away from her before you cross a line you won’t be able to come back from. A line that is unprofessional and stupid and full of problems and rumors that will probably ruin your life. 

Unfortunately, crossing that line is the only thing that’s been on your mind since the day you started working for her. And the urge to find out what her lips taste like and what her hands feel like on your skin has only gotten stronger since.

“Tell me to stop and I will,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotions you don’t want to think about.

You lean in closer, your breath fanning across her lips while you grab her hands and place them on your waist. “Please don’t stop.”

“y/n…” Her voice comes out somewhere between a whine and a groan. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

It’s unclear whether she’s talking about her vampire side or her serial heartbreaker side but you ignore her warning all the same. You’ve wanted her far too long to let something that seems so irrelevant right now stop you.

“I’ll be fine,” you assure her, letting her pull you close until you're finally sitting on her lap. “I only need you right now.”

The weight and warmth of your body on her lap causes her to take in a sharp breath, one that leaves no doubts about what it is she wants to do with you. “Fuck…”

She leans forward, completely ignoring your lips and instead moving her face toward your neck, her nose brushing against your skin and making your heart skip multiple beats. Her grip on your hips tightens and you swear you can feel the smirk that adorns her features right before she attaches herself to your neck.

Your head tilts back to allow her free access while you do your best not to grind against her. You fail miserably the second her fangs start to nip your skin. She doesn’t bite down hard enough to puncture your neck but the feeling has you desperately bucking your hips in search of relief anyway.

 “Kate-” You gasp out, your hands holding onto her arms for support.

She chuckles while one of her hands starts its journey down inside your jeans. “I know, sweetheart. I can smell how much you need me…how desperate you are to feel me inside you. I bet you can’t think about anything else right now.”

You’re not sure when it happened but her hesitation has clearly gone out the window by now. All that remains is the current of need that flows eagerly between your two bodies.

You let out a soft moan as her fingers dip inside your soaked underwear and find the mess she’s turned you into with a few teasing words and restrained kisses. “Please.”

“Such a good girl,” she murmurs. “How can I deny someone as sweet as you?”

Despite her words, she still doesn’t give you what you truly want. Instead, she presses two fingers against your throbbing clit and starts drawing small circles, her movements slow and calculated. Your hips move in response and you suddenly realize what it is she wants from you. 

There’s no time for whines or embarrassment, no time for anything except desire and desperation. 

You grind down on her fingers and let out a string of incoherent noises that leave Kate groaning into your neck. “Just like that, baby. Show me how much you want me.”

You do just as she asks, rolling your hips and relishing the non-stop kisses she lands on your overheated skin. Her teeth keep teasing you and it’s all you can do not to beg her to bite you hard enough to make you dizzy.

She told you earlier she wasn’t a mind reader but you’re about to call bullshit on that considering the way she picks up on all your dirty thoughts without a single word from you.

“I could drain you so easily right now. You’re so desperate you’d just let me, wouldn’t you? You’d let me sink my teeth into you so long as I kept fucking you, wouldn’t you?”

Your sounds of ecstasy should be more than an answer but they’re not enough for the brunette. She picks up the pace of her fingers and turns your brain to mush long enough for you to let out the truth.

“Yes! God, yes. Please- Don’t stop.”

“Good girl.”

She plants a few more kisses against your neck before she finally bites you. Hard. Hard enough to make your eyes squeeze shut and your legs tense up. The pain borders on unbearable until she starts sucking.

Your mind spins endlessly as all the different sensations overwhelm you. You’re not sure what to focus on but your body makes the decision for you. 

You gasp, although the sound comes out more like a whine than anything else, and Kate takes the hint. She plunges her fingers inside of you right as you fall over the edge, the tips curled just enough to hit that one spot that has you seeing stars that weirdly resemble the color of her eyes.

You’re shaking and panting and dizzier than ever but it all feels far too good. The pleasure and the pain roll together to give you the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had and you suddenly wonder how you lived so long without knowing such ecstasy existed.

Kate detaches herself from your neck right as the ringing in your ears fades. You open your eyes to the sight of her, pupils blown wide and her lips stained red. You subconsciously clench around her fingers and she smiles.

“I was right,” she says, her voice low and far too controlled for your liking. “You taste as delicious as you smell.”

You don’t waste another second attaching your lips to hers and drowning out all her cocky statements.

You end up spending the rest of the night getting to know Kate in ways you’d only ever dreamed about before, completely oblivious to the way word already starts spreading about your intimate encounter outside the walls of her apartment.

[the-wip-project]

SloMo WriNo: Finding the Perfect Time to Write

Imagine your perfect writing setting. It’s peaceful and perfect, and the words flow easily.

But reality intrudes. Those perfect moments are hard to find, and, when you find them it can be too much pressure, so the words won’t come. Other times, when the inspiration is strong, and words are ready to pour out of you, you have no time or space to write. 

It seems impossible to find both the time and inspiration to write at the same time! 

That’s because it is.

To have a consistent long term writing practice, you cannot rely on perfect moments or bursts of inspiration.

I’m going to discuss inspiration in a later post, for now let’s focus on finding the time to write, in less than perfect times and places.

For me, I used to write whenever I could, just squeezing writing time whenever. And I was pretty inconsistent in how much I wrote, and didn’t get much finished.

When I decided I wanted to write a novel I knew I needed to get more organized.

I happen to be something of a morning person, and wake up about half an hour before I actually need to get up. I was in the habit of using that time to lie in bed reading, checking messages, scrolling socials etc. It seemed like a no-brainer to optimize that morning time to write.

However, when I tried, I found that I couldn’t stick with it for more than a couple of days at a time. I was frequently breaking my concentration, and easily distracted. And it felt like a grind. Eventually I realized that I simply did not want to write immediately after waking up. (and my ADHD brain will sabotage any attempt to force myself.) See, even though I’m a morning person, it doesn’t mean that I’m ready to do heavy mental lifting when I first awake. Time for quiet, more passive activities are an important part of me transitioning from sleep to full wakefulness.

But wait! Here I am at 6:30 am writing this! Happily! On a Sunday no less! Because I figured out a work around. Another look at my schedule showed me that I had another block of seemingly unused time. The later evenings after my kids are in bed. I’d dismissed that time period because I’m generally too brain tired to do anything productive. The solution was to use that time for sleeping (boring I know) enabling me to wake earlier, keep my gradual wake up routine, and still have time to write.

Strangely enough, knowing that I’m going to write in the morning is incentivising for me, and I find that I simply don’t want to stay up as late anymore. Because I have a fun reason (yes, writing is fun!) to go to sleep.

Now this little story might be helpful for you if you’d like to write first thing in the morning. If the idea feels like torture, then perhaps not.

But the idea is, assess your daily time, and cut something that isn’t refreshing or valuable. And possibly jiggle your schedule around so that you can open up a block of writing time at a time that is good for you.

For me that was the mindless doom scrolling or binge watching that I tend to indulge in after 10pm.

Some times that might work for you (besides the obvious first thing in the morning or last thing before bed): Commute time, Arriving at work or school or other daily appointments early, lunch or other break times in your day, time while you’re waiting. Remember, you’re not looking for massive blocks of time. Fifteen minutes will do. Thirty minutes would be amazing.

So examine your schedule and see where you can block out a regular time to write.

Once you’ve found a few options, try them out. Do you feel good, or harried? Tired or refreshed? If it doesn’t feel right, is there another task you can swap into the time slot to open up a different spot in your schedule? 

Which leads us to the question: does this mean I need to write every single day?

Absolutely not. Take rest days when you need them. Either a scheduled day or two each week, or just a floating flex day taken when needed.

Focus on establishing a habit of writing for at least fifteen minutes 5-6 days a week. (And don’t worry about word counts too much while you’re figuring this out.)

Once you create a habit, the words will come!

— Maree

SloMo Wrino Introduction

Setting Word Count Goals

the WIP Project discord

[the-twitchy-life]

So, I told my neurologist I’d been having some issues with my meds. My new neuro, like a paragon of practicality, suggests staggering them. Like, take med 1 and 2 and 3 at 7am, take med 4 at 10am. And you know what? It helped! Not sure I can say it fixed the issue, but it definitely helped.

Maybe my new neuro knows his stuff after all...

(Disclaimer: omg this is NOT medical advice! Listen to your doctor and be safe)

[wrenhyperfixates]

All I Need is You

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: You do so much for everyone else and so little for yourself that when you almost collapse, Loki finally gets you to agree to let him take care of you. Warnings: the reader skips some meals; a lot of fluff A/N: Its really just Loki taking care of you. But please remember to take care of yourselves too everyone!! Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02​ @frostedficrecs​ @lunarmoon8​ @twhiddlestonsstuff​ @lokistan​ @lowkeyorlokificrecs​ @gaitwae​ @whatafuckingdumbass​ @castiels-majestic-wings​ @kozkaboi​ @cozy-the-overlord​ @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn @wolfish-trickster

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki was watching you even more carefully than normal these days. Yes, you’d caught his eye even on your first day in the Tower back when you were just a new recruit, a SHIELD agent with some kind of sixth sense that let you anticipate things, recently transferred to the Avengers Tower. Even now no one was entirely sure if it was a power or just an uncanny knack you had that made you extremely good at your job. Regardless, the trickster god could see how the ability had shaped you.

You’d only been in the Tower a week when you’d started running errands all over the city, offering things to people before they could even think they needed it themselves, then going to pick it up for them. Loki had declined the offer after hearing all the places you were already going. He’d hoped it was a fluke, that you wouldn’t make it a habit of taking care of everyone. Not that it was inherently bad, he just knew how tiring it could be to please everyone, worried that you would burn out. Of course, you had kept doing it, and his worries turned out to be justified.

“Darling, are you going out again?” Loki asked as you passed his seat in the common room on your way to the elevator. He set his book down, frowning. “Did you not just go yesterday? Unless, of course, this time it is for you. Then by all means, please be on your way.”

“No... It’s just Steve and Bucky were talking about some cereals they used to like and we don’t have any in the Tower so...” you trailed off, shuffling your feet.

“And can they not wait for it until the next scheduled trip to the supermarket?”

“Well, yeah, they said they could. But I don’t mind.”

Loki stood and sighed, walking over to you. Gently, so you didn’t have to comply if you didn’t want to, Loki lifted your chin to look at him. You looked tired. Admirable as it was that you wanted to do things for others, you needed a rest day.

“And tell me, darling, when was the last time you did something for yourself?” He waited a moment for an answer, but was met with silence. “What about that drawing you started two months ago? Have you worked on that more?”

“It wasn’t any good, anyway,” you shrugged. “I’ve been busy.”

“It was wonderful,” he reassured you. “What about eating, though? Have you eaten today?”

“I... I had a mint.”

“That does not count.” Now he was outright worried. You did this every once in a while, saying you just got so caught up in other things, you forgot to eat. Whatever the reason, it troubled Loki. “You have had some water at least? You know what, do not answer. I am sure I know already. Just wait here a moment.”

You waited by the lift as Loki padded to the kitchen, searching for a water bottle. The problem went beyond just these shopping trips. Sometimes when Tony or Bruce got stuck on one of their projects, you’d pore over books and blueprints for hours, searching for the answer, losing sleep. Then other times, you took it upon yourself to plan events for the team. It was more than a simple, casual invitation. No, it usually involved at least three days of extensive planning. Everyone enjoyed them and was appreciative, needing a break from their day-to-day lives, but it just took up more of your time and brainpower. Pile that onto your own training and missions, it was enough to wear anyone out.

But what he both loved and hated the most was how you’d always be there to talk. Not just for him, but for everyone. And not merely a laid-back chat, either. No, they were practically therapy sessions. Again, just like all the other things you did, that would be all fine and good, except for the fact you never talked about your own issues. You just did so much for everyone else and practically nothing for yourself, even something so basic as remembering to eat, that it broke Loki’s heart a little more every day.

“Here,” he said, handing you the plastic bottle. “But I am coming with you.”

Smiling brightly, you led the way out into the city streets. You chatted as you went about your task, and Loki was yet to take his eyes off of you. It wasn’t until you started the journey back, however, that he began to grow worried. You hadn’t taken even the smallest sip of the water he’d fetched for you, and on this hot day, it was clearly taking its toll. You stumbled a little, suddenly looking more out of it than Loki could stand. He gently gripped your arm to steady you and led you to a bench. Grabbing the water out of your backpack, Loki uncapped it and held the bottle to your lips.

“Drink,��� he ordered, but with kindness in his tone.

One of your hands that was gripping the bench a bit too tightly in an attempt to ground your dizzy mind came up to take the bottle from him. Complying, you downed nearly half the bottle in one gulp. It seemed that was a mistake as your empty stomach gargled, rebelling against the sudden intake. Loki rubbed large circles on your back while you scrunched your eyes closed, breathing deeply as you tried to force yourself to feel better.

“Are you alright, darling?” Loki asked when you felt well enough to take another few small sips. You nodded your head, eyes still closed. “Now do you see why it is important to take care of yourself? Will you please get some rest this afternoon?”

“I’m fine, really. Don’t worry, I-”

“That is madness!” Both Loki and you flinched at his sudden increase in volume. He removed his hand from your back, feeling unworthy to make contact with you after snapping like that. You were his friend, and he was yelling at you for something like this? It made him disappointed in himself. He sighed. “Listen, I am sorry. All I mean is I care about you. I do not like to see you like this. It is not healthy, and I believe you know that.”

You opened your eyes, blinking at him. “You-you care about me?”

Loki felt heat flood to his cheeks as he realized that he had, in fact, said that. “I do. So will you please let me take care of you?”

You bit your lip for a minute. “I will,” you sighed, giving in.

Satisfied, Loki coaxed you into accepting a piggyback ride the rest of the way home. You placed your forehead in the crook of his neck, enjoying his cool skin against yours, which was noticeably overheating. He quickly tossed the grocery bags of cereal onto the counter and brought you to your room, your own little pocket of the world that you trusted Loki enough to share with him if even for a moment. Laying you down on your bed, he told you to rest for a minute, lips placing a ghost of a kiss on your forehead.

The god moved to your bathroom, looking for what he needed. After preparing a bubble bath with nice, cool water, Loki left you to sink into it with only the order to relax. While you did, he hurried to prepare you a light meal, something that wouldn’t upset your stomach. When you padded out of the bathroom in the soft pajamas Loki had left for you and saw the meal on a tray on your bedside table, a smile tugged at your lips.

Loki peeled back the silken sheets he’d put on your bed so you could get under them. With a little bit of difficulty—Loki never had gotten a firm grasp on understanding Midgardian technology—he flipped through the channels on your TV until you found something you wanted to watch while you ate.

“Is there anything else you need?” he asked once you were done eating, before leaving you to your own devices.

You bit your lip as you thought before ultimately shaking your head no. “I’m good thanks.”

“Please, darling, be honest with me,” he pleaded. “Anything you want. Name it, and it is yours.”

“Will you stay with me?” you blurted out. “No, I’m sorry, that’s ridiculous. I’ve taken up enough of your time.”

“Darling,” he tsked. “The only thing on my schedule today is taking care of you.”

You smiled as he slid under the sheets next to you, wrapping his arms around your body and pulling you onto his lap. You twisted your body so you could look at him and tuck a few locks of his raven hair behind his ear. You were living in your own place in time, the two of you finding a safe haven in each other’s arms.

“You know what would make me really happy, Loki?” you began. “If I got to give you a little, thank you. Would that be alright?”

The god hesitated for a moment. “I suppose. Depending on what it is.”

“Can I... Would it be alright if I kissed you?”

“Well, that depends, again.”

“On?”

“On whether or not we can make it a regular occurrence,” Loki replied with a playful grin.

“You know, you are always saying I should do things that make me happy. So yes, yes we absolutely can.”

“In that case,” he said, already leaning in, “what are you waiting for?”

Giggling, you bridged the gap between you. As Loki smiled against your lips, he realized something. No matter how stubborn either of you were when it came to accepting help for yourselves, you’d always have the other to take care of you. And even more importantly, Loki thought, you’d have each other to love.

[hoonhrt]

MUSIC SHOP 

: pairing — idol! heeseung x music store worker! reader 

: genre — fluff 

: album recc. — case study 01 by daniel caesar and any of the albums i mentioned throughout the story! 

: a/n — this is a little more on the lengthier side so please know that before reading! (i couldn’t help myself i luv hee too much) 

it was a slow day at the shop. the dim fairy lights hung around lowly, making the atmosphere feel even slower. you walked around the store pushing a small grey cart that held all the albums, records, and cassette tapes one could ever imagine of, placing everything in their correct spots for future consumers to find. 

the sound of a faint bell was heard from the back of the store. where you were, indicating that someone had came in. you flatten out the front of your sweater and rush to greet the costumer. you are met with a tall man dressed in all black from head to toe, water droplets fell off the shoulder of his jacket and you make a mental note to mop the floor later. 

“hello! welcome to moonshines music. please let me know if you need help with anything, i’ll be happy to assist!” you cheerfully exclaim. you welcome costumers with a joyful energy that even cheers them up, it was your thing. the costumer pulled down the black mask from his face and waited for you to react. he was a slightly astonished when a reaction never came. no gasps, no eyes widening, no realization of who he was. just you with a firm smile on your face waiting for him to walk away and start shopping. he eyes you for a little before nodding his head and makes his way to the direction of the CD albums.

he pondered this feeling for a little. he wasn’t used to not being recognized. i mean, everyone knows him. he was on ever magazine cover and topped all the charts with his music. his face was plastered on every product poster that covered the walls of the busy city. so how could you not? he thinks that maybe you didn’t want to scare him off or bother him with pictures and autographs,  inflating his ego a little bit. but still, why did you not say anything? 

“excuse me! do you mind helping me out?” you could hear his voice from across the store as he shouted for you. jogging from your previous to his still figure. 

“how can i help you?” continuing on your energetic personality. he didn’t have a real reason to ask for help, he was just too intrigued by you and needed a reason to converse with you. he looks around the store frantically for a minuet before looking back behind him to the CD’s he initially walked towards. “can you choose an album for me?” he blurts in your face loudly. 

this wasn’t the first time someone asked for music recommendations but he walked in with confidence so you assumed he was a man who knew his music. “uhh yes um— do you perhaps have favourite genre that you maybe like?” you question him. he just stares at you, his lips folded in with a blank expression on his face. he shakes his head no. you politely nod again, now even more conflicted with what to recommend. you trail your eyes around the store till you see through the window next to the door. the sky is crying, whilst gray clouds surround it. the streetlight emitting an orange hue that reflect the fallen rain drops on the glass and you suddenly remember the small drops of water that trickled down his jacket sleeve when he first entered the store. 

walking behind him you scan for the letter D section and begin to search for the album. letting out a soft ‘hmm’ before pulling out the album and handing it to him. “Case Study 01 by Daniel Caesar. perfect for rainy days when you aren’t lost in your thoughts.” you end with a smile on your face. ‘so they really have no idea to who I am, huh’ he thinks to himself. he looks down at the album in his hands than looking back up at you. a gentle smile reaching his lips. he follows you to the cashier register and pushes the album towards you. “that’ll be $10.15! card or cash?” he whips out his wallet and takes out a credit card. you can’t help but notice it was a black card, a card only the richest of people have. you wonder how this man can be so rich and why he is buying from a tiny music store in the middle of a unknown area. 

you’re pulled away from your thoughts when the sound of the machine goes off,  indicating the purchase has gone through. you delicately place the album into a tiny bag and hand it over to him with glee. “enjoy the album sir! if you ever do comeback, let me know what you thought about it!” you say in a courteous manner. the young man now looks at you with a toothy grin on display for you to awe at. he nods in affirmation before exiting. the atmosphere becoming quiet again. you hoped to see that man again. 

another week has rolled around. you hum under your breath a silly little tune from a song on one of your many playlists, sending another customer off a new record they seemed to be extremely excited about. your job wasn’t much but seeing people share the same love for music as you was something that never failed to make you love life. wiping down the cashier, you hear the door chime and see the same handsome man from last week. you catch a glimpse of the clear sky and the natural light of the sun from out the door as he enters. 

“i LOVED that album! you described it literally perfectly, it fit the vibes of the weather sooo much but didn’t leave me agonizing about life like how the rain usually makes me feel.” it made you so happy and almost accomplished to have someone come back and praise you for your music choice. you were about to start telling him it was no big deal before he proposes, again, to choose another album for him. you look at him a little unsure, you honestly didn’t know what to give him this time and you were scared he wouldn’t like it this time. he can see the anxiety flush over your face but lets you know he is looking for something this time. “give me your childhood favourite album. like, you know every single lyric for every song on this album.” your eyes go wide as you practically jump towards the shelf. he giggles quietly, thinking how cute you looked. 

you prance towards the shelf knowing exactly where it was. in your hands was the Up All Night by One Direction, you shove the album into his hands with a passionate smile. he looks at you and tries to hide his judgment from you, which doesn’t work as you can see his eyebrow arch up and study the album in slight disgust. “hey! i danced to this album every night before i went to sleep for 3 years as a kid okay? it’s my favourite album!” your bottom lip pushes out, gazing at him with eyes the resemble a cute puppy. he throws his head back lets out a laugh that you think you could listen to for hours on end. 

just as the prior week, he passes you the album to scan through and pulls out his card to pay. he was about to make his way out before you stop him. “can I have your name?” you requested. you took a liking to the kind guy, he had a pretty face and laugh that you particularly enjoyed. he checks his phone and swiftly swipes through the millions of notifications he has, then gazing back up at you. a genuine look plastered on your face. a look that feigned innocence, kept promises, and truly enjoyed life for what it was. “heeseung. my name is heeseung.” 

you tug the key out of the door lock with a little force. the moon created a source of light and comfort as you made your way away from the shop and towards the subway station. you worked longer than usual and fatigue was the only thing felt within your weak bones. a car pulled up next to you, the window rolled down and revealed the person that has been occupying your thoughts recently, heeseung. 

“on your way home?” you nod. “hop in, i’ll drive you home, we can listen to some music while we’re at it.” now you usually don’t just get into random peoples car, but you trusted him. who else would listen One Direction because someone asked them to? 

his car was black from top to bottom, mirroring his outfits that he always wore. the windows were tinted and it looked intimidating from the outside, but on the inside sat a doe-eyed boy with the prettiest smile to exist. heeseung’s hand reaches out to turn up the volume of the car sound system. the sound of Frank Ocean’s voice fills up the empty sound within his car. it was song you were unfamiliar with. you ask what song this was and he lets out a dramatic gasp, almost looking offended. “you DON’T know this song? I guess pretty people can have flaws huh,” he turns his head to watch you flush a pink shade that can still be seen despite the darkness. a sight he thinks is quiet lovable. 

the car ride to your home lasted much shorter than you wished it did. you two talked about everything under the moon. favourite songs, old childhood friends, past lovers. heeseung enjoyed the fact that you didn’t know his career identity. to the world he was Lee Heeseung, world renowned singer and model, but to you he was just, heeseung. a young boy who loved music and loved the world involved around it. you made him feel like a regular person again. 

as you open the car door to make way into the glass doors of your apartment complex, heeseung grabs your wrist and pulls you back into the car. “how about... i lend you my favourite album this time, and next week on—” he checks the schedule his manager sent him, “saturday at 6 pm, i pick you up and we can talk more about it hm?” he holds his phone towards you with a cheeky smile on his face. you shake your head in disbelief as you bit back a smile of your own that is creeping on to your face. “I’ll see you then, hee.” your heart skipping beats as you walk away from the running vehicle. 

unbeknownst to you, an excited heeseung punches the air rapidly with excitement. he silently screams into the night like a kid. feeling as if he was on cloud 9 to have scored a date with someone who’s a) the most beautiful person he’s ever seen and b) someone who likes him for his truest self. 

[nevertheless-moving]

Star Wars AU #20: MacenJar AU

Inspired by this meme and with permission from @simpskywalker

This au is dedicated to everyone who told me that this concept ‘gave them a headache’ or ‘psychic damage’. Especially that special someone who begged me to ‘please stop’ because ‘i hate this, i hate this so much’ and told me ‘please don’t say more words about this.’

Crack Lies Ahead, enough to consume a man. I have spoken.

“Ani. Ani. Anakin Skywalker.”

“Hmm?” The dulcet sounds of Padme calling his name dragged Anakin from sleep against his will. 

“Anakin, you have to get up.”

He groaned, rolling over. “...here’s my face...I’ll...be awake in a second...just sit down...I’m awake...”

“No, Anakin you have to leave, remember. You have a 5 AM take-off scheduled, and you made me promise I would get you up early this time, come on.”

She cruelly yanked the covers away. He gasped in betrayal. 

“My own wife...how could you.”

“Anakin if you’re not out of bed in the next 30 seconds the next time you beg to stay the night because ‘you can get up early, you swear’ I am kicking you out before anyone sits anywhere near anyone’s face, do you understand.”

He sat bolt upright and stumbled out of bed. “Ok, Ok, I’m up I- Padme!”

“Yes?” She asked sweetly, brushing her hair at the vanity. 

“It’s 3 AM!”

“Yes I know, you were going to stop at that bakery I recommended, remember?”

“You woke me up an hour and half early so I could stop at a bakery,” he asked, disbelieving.

“Yes, Anakin, it was your idea. It was going to be your cover, in case anyone wondered what you were doing in the building.”

“That is-” before he could call it the stupidest idea he had ever heard, the memory of promising Padme that staying the night was a good idea because it would facilitate his cunning ruse (he was distracted, ok? Padme was wearing a lot of layers) came rushing back.

“-right,” he finished lamely.

Padme just hummed and began braiding in her cosmetic forcefields. 

Anakin managed to stretch, complete his morning refresher run, and arrange his robes in a suitably decorous fashion by the time Padme had established the base layer of her hairstyle for the day.

A quick kiss- no goodbye, it hurt too much to say goodbyes in war - and Anakin was out the door. 

He idly scratched his chin, vacantly looking out the lift and vaguely considering growing a beard. The pre-dawn view was quickly replaced by metal walls as the ride dropped below the skyline.

The transparisteel pod began to slow scarcely one third of the way down. Anakin suppressed a groan and tried to arrange his expression in Jedi-stoic manner, hoping that whoever got in the lift with him would be too intimidated by seeing a Jedi close-up to think about what they were doing in a Senatorial Apartment building at 3:15 in the morning. If they ask, I’m visiting the famous Bebbisun Bakery. Bennison? BELLASAN. I’m visiting the Bellasan Bakery.

Actually, anyone getting into the elevator this early was probably also doing the walk of shame so it’s probably fi-KRIFFING SITH SPIT THAT’S

“Master Windu!” Anakin cleared his throat, trying to lower his voice an octave. “Good- Good Morning!”

Windu’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. “Ah. Knight Skywalker. Good morning to you as well,” he replied, stepping in the elevator, doors closing behind.

The lift descended as Anakin’s heart rate skyrocketed. This was it. Windu had to be here for Anakin. What other possible explanation could there be? WHY WASN’T HE SAYING ANYTHING?

Wait.

What other possible explanation...could...why wasn’t he saying ANYTHING?

Anakin scrutinized Master Windu out of the corner of his eye. Were those...the same robes he was wearing yesterday? They looked like the same robes but then again...pretty much all robes looked the same so this was probably a stupid way to figure things out. Fuck, it was too early for this.

Unsurprisingly, he couldn’t get a sense of the Master’s surface emotions. But his underlying aura seemed...happy? Typically Windu's serene presence had a tinge of righteous fury (something that had frightened him back when he was a child). But now that ever present vaapad edge was... softened? Anakin wracked his tired brain for a more reasonable explanation than- than the obvious but obviously impossible. He had to projecting. Right? Then again...couplings weren’t forbidden (even if Anakin couldn’t quite understand how people enjoyed just- having sex without any attachment).

The corners of Anakin’s lips twitched. The Master of the Order. Getting laid. Master Windu. In the Senatorial apartments. Mace Windu. What level had he gotten on? Above aides...diplomats probably. Should he ask? Force, this was too good- he couldn’t not ask.

Windu stared at him cooly and the knight instantly sobered. What was he thinking? Windu was obviously trying to trick him! If he said anything, Windu would turn it against him! Well, he wouldn’t be fooled so easily. Anakin spent the next several levels of descent staring forward, determined not to be the one to break the silence. 

He was so focused that he didn’t notice the lift slowing prematurely again until the doors opened; an elderly Rodian hobbled in. The two Jedi moved even further apart to allow the man some space.  The lift closed and newcomer glanced at the humans curiously. 

“Aren’t you Jedi? What are two Jedi doing here so early?”

“Bakery,” Mace and Anakin responded in unison, heads snapping to stare at the other in surprise.

The Rodian chuckled. “Oh, that Bellasan place, right?”

“Yes,” Windu replied smoothly. “They have a famously unique caf blend.”

“And you can’t get Sweesonberry rolls anywhere else,” Anakin added quickly, not letting the opportunity to firm up his cover go to waste.

“You mammals and your carbohydrates,” The elderly reptilian clucked, bemused.

Knight Skywalker and Master Windu exchanged wary looks. The door pinged open on level 4848. 

“Enjoy!” the overly entertained Rodian called out as they stepped out from the closing doors.

Anakin cleared his throat. “After you, Master Windu,” he said politely. CHECKMATE FUCKER.

But Windu just nodded serenely, striding confidently ahead, past the checkpoints and into the attached upper-crust market. After a very short walk, Anakin found himself in line behind Mace Windu at a pastry shop in the basement of his wife’s apartment building.

Anakin blearily thought that sentence through again, then subtly pinched the inside of his arm.

Nope, he was awake.

Every second that passed Anakin had to fight the steadily increasing urge to blurt out something stupid, and possibly incriminating, if not both. Just say something bland! Nothing about why they’re both here so early. Nothing about coming here before. Something casual.

“Smells good,” Anakin said.

Nailed it!

“Indeed,” Mace replied.

I’m a genius! He actually thinks I’m here for the bakery! He’s never going to suspect a thing! He was probably here for some boring pre-dawn meeting, and now I’ve got the perfect excuse to come visit Padme whenever! I can probably start sneaking off more often, I’ve just got to remember to bring back a pasty or something. And he can’t even say shit about un-Jedi like consumption!

“Skywalker-”

Oh no. Please be about the bakery. Pleasebeaboutthe

“Believe me when I tell you that I’d rather not ask-”

Oh NO. THIS ISN’T GOING TO BE ABOUT THE BAKERY. I’M AN IDIOT.

“-But did you fly here in a temple speeder?”

Cold sweat started to trickle down Anakin’s back as they shuffled forward automatically in the surprisingly long queue. Guess that’s why Padme woke me up so early.

“Knight Skywalker? Did you hear me?”

“Yes, Master Windu, sorry- I was, uh, distracted by the specials board. I, um, have my own hoverbike. Built it myself. No temple resources involved.”

“Sounds...distinctive.” Windu’s tone seemed neutral, but the way he pinched the bridge of his nose was obviously irritated. They stepped forward again. Why are so many people at this bakery so early? Guess we’re far enough down that day/night cycles don’t matter so much. Oh kriff, he’s massaging his temples now. Why is he mad about the bike? Is he going to ask where I landed it? Fuck.

Anakin swallowed the lump in his throat. “I- I thought it would be better to take personal property. Since this isn’t exactly order business.”

“That’s very responsible of you. Such...separation of personal from professional is an important skill for a Jedi.” 

The trickle of sweat down his spine increased. The Chosen One discretely wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his sleeves and prayed that his outer robe was hiding any growing pit stains. 

Are we...actually talking about this? Is he going to admit to having an affair? Is he going to tell me to keep this quiet? I CAN BARELY KEEP MY OWN RELATIONSHIP SECRET! Does he know about Padme? Does he know we’re married? Is this conversation still about the bakery visit? Is HE married?

“However...such a vehicle might not be the most discrete. And discretion is also an important skill.”

Is he giving me permission to use the temple landspeeders to visit padme? Is he telling me to take the bus? WAIT! IS THIS A METAPHOR? Is he telling me to come here less? Is this still about the bakery? Did I actually check that I wasn’t still asleep or did I just dream that I checked?

“Do you understand, Knight Skywalker”

“I- uhh. I mean- well, ummm- OH look, it’s your turn to order!”

Master Windu stepped up to the counter. 

“Hello, again! Same as last time?”

OH FORCE GODS HE’S A REGULAR. THIS IS IT. I’M NEVER GOING TO GET TO SEE OBI-WAN OR ASHOKA AGAIN AND PADME’S CAREER IS GOING TO BE RUINED AND

“The same blend please, but please add on one of your Sweesonberry rolls- a friend recommended them.”

...Did Mace Windu just call me his friend?

“Excellent choice! Your friend has good taste!”

Mace Windu stepped to the side and Anakin Skywalker stepped up. “...I’ll have what he had.” 

A minute or two later, they were walking back to the lift, matching disposamugs and flimsibags in hand. 

To try and delay the inevitable, the pale and now very sweaty young Jedi took a sip of caf. He raised both brows involuntary. “This is...really good. Holy kriff. I don’t usually drink caf for the flavor but...wow.”

“Worth the trip?” Windu asked. Anakin choked a little but successfully managed to swallow. He took another sip to avoid answering. 

Windu took a bite of his roll, making a small noise of appreciation, “The pastry is also excellent. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth but this is remarkably smooth...I can’t say I’ve ever had anything quite like it.”

“Floral, right?” Anakin said, grinning into his cup. 

“Yes, that’s a good description.” Ha! I told Padme I was paying attention.

They drank companionably as the lift indicator dinged closer. 

“Skywalker...you’re parked on 4970, right?”

The knight nodded, too afraid to speak. The force seemed to swirl at the precipice of something. 

The Master sighed. “Look- I’ve got an unregistered van- this one time only, stow the speeder, and I’ll give you a ride back. If you’re visiting the bakery in the future- please take something with a closed cab. Last thing we need is the tabloids wondering where you’re going...”

Anakin nodded again, more eagerly again. He was practically being given permission to visit Padme! That was totally worth an excruciatingly awkward flight back to the temple! He just had to chew slowly so he couldn’t blurt out anything marriage related! He was a genius!

The lift opened.

“Jar-Jar!” Anakin said, surprised and pleased. “Wow, are you also here for the bakery? This place really is popular!”

“Ani! Little Ani! Wassa you doin here?” Jar-Jar looked around wildly, then stumbled out, foot catching at the gap. Windu darted forward and effortlessly saved the Gungan before he hit the floor, while Anakin stuck his arm forward to catch the closing door.

“Bakery, Jar Jar!” he said as he stepped inside. “I’d love to talk, but we’ve actually got to get back to the temple!”

Windu struggled to untangle himself from Jar-Jar, who was being particularly unhelpful about it, even for him. Wow he’s even clingier than usual this early in the morning. It’s nice how patient Master Windu is being; I feel like even Obi-Wan can be too hard on Jar-Jar sometimes.

“Actually Skywalker, why don’t you go on ahead and stow the bike- I just remembered I meant to pick something up for Council; I won’t take long.”

“Uh. Alright,” Anakin said, catching the keys. I guess I can’t really be late if I arrive with Master Windu.

“Ossa no!” Jar-Jar exclaimed sadly. “I was justa saying to Macey lassa night thatsa I missed talkin wit little Ani!”

Anakin smiled reassuringly as the lift began to close. “Don’t worry Jar-Jar! We’ll- catch uh-HOLD ON did you say LAST NIGHT?!”

Mace’s eyes closed in resignation as the door shut on the pair, Jar-Jar still tangled around the Jedi.

AND MACE WASN’T EVEN TRYING TO PUT HIM BACK UPRIGHT ANYMORE HOLY KRIFF JUST PUT THAT TOGETHER.

Anakin stared blankly at the metal walls as they rushed past. The lone Jedi Knight took a long sip of caff, then carefully placed the pastry bag and drink on the floor. He systematically wadded up the sleeve of his robe and shoved in his mouth. He then spent the next few minutes squealing with unholy glee while literally bouncing off the walls in a manner only accessible to a force sensitive in an elevator. He was still panting slightly when the lift opened on the primary parking level.

We can double date! Padme and I can host! I can help Mace and Jar-Jar plan their wedding! We can reform the order to allow for romantic love! I can be Jar-Jar’s best man! Padme and I can have another ceremony and Obi-Wan can give me away while Mace officiates and  and then we’ll all have sweesonbury cake and Jar-Jar can help teach our kids how to swim! 

With those dreamy thoughts running through his mind, it was child’s work to follow the the force to the unremarkable hovervan. He was humming to himself when Master Windu opened the door. 

He beamed at the older Jedi. Windu scowled in reply. Anakin smiled wider, unintimidated. He genuinely liked the Gungan, but anyone who could spend hours with Jar-Jar had to have a soft side.

“You know, Jar-Jar is a long time friend of Senator-”

“No.” Windu cut the eager words brusquely. 

Anakin shrank back, a little hurt.

(Maybe a lot hurt.)

Mace glanced over at the obviously crestfallen young General and sighed before amending his words.

“Not- Not right now, alright? Maybe if you’re miraculously more discrete about this than you are about your affection for Senator Amidala, then we can talk, understood?”

Anakin nodded with absolute determination, glimmering images of fairytale weddings visible once more. Distant, perhaps- but the chance was worth any amount of tongue biting. Now that there was a real, possible future where he could have it all, now that he knew Windu had a heart somewhere under his robes- he could be patient. 

He could be very patient.

Anakin calmed his grin down to a smaller, more Jedi-like smile, taking a sip of the cool but still really good caf. He channeled Obi-Wan’s most neutral diplomatic grace.

“Thank you for the ride, Master Windu. I appreciate it.”

Windu gave him an approving glance. “You’re more than welcome, Knight Skywalker.”

Feeling bold, he continued on with his best non-mocking impression of Obi-Wan.

"Have you had a chance to read the latest report on helmet redesigns? I think they might really improve peripheral vision without compromising concussive resistance.”

Mace hummed thoughtfully. “I have. I’m somewhat concerned about deploying such a radical change mid-campaign. Even better gear requires an adjustment period, and I’d rather minimize needless deaths while the troops readjust to hud flow.”

“Yes, that’s a reasonable concern, I was talking to Captain Rex-”

They spent the remainder of the flight chatting comfortably about troop safety and absentmindedly eating (or possibly stress eating in response to the prolonged absence of interpersonal conflict) the box of pastries Mace had picked up. When they arrived at the temple, they divvied up the remainder between them, quietly agreeing that there weren’t enough to share anyway. 

They continued their conversation, Master Windu accompanying him to the orbital loading bay. 

Obi-Wan rushed over in alarm at the sight of them approaching. “Anakin, there you are- I was starting to wonder if you’d make it. Terribly sorry Master Windu- I hope he wasn’t too much of a bother-”

“He’s not your padawan anymore, you don’t have to apologize for him. Though I do appreciate the reflex.”

“I suppose the concern isn’t completely baseless.” Anakin said, tone deliberately mildly. Mace chuckled slightly and Obi-Wan took a step back, slightly frightened by the sudden camaraderie. Anakin pretended to take a sip from his now empty disposamug to avoid fist pumping the air or cheering.

“I- Yes well- the important thing is you’re here in time for departure. What- what is that in the bag.”

Moment of Truth. Don’t freak out. Focus. Prove you can be discrete, THEN double dates, THEN Jedi Wedding Ceremony.

“Sweesonbury Roll,” Anakin answered placidly. He pretended to take another sip of caf. “Master Windu was kind enough to give me a ride from the bakery.”

“That’s- I’m sorry, what?” Anakin bit the inside of cheek to keep himself from reacting to Obi-Wan’s palpable bewilderment.

“I had to double back and get more, but we came straight here after,” Mace added helpfully, with zero hint of intentional mischief. “Oh and Skywalker- you can call me Mace if we’re not discussing temple business.”

Anakin SCREAMED (internally, of course). Outwardly, he simply bowed politely. “And you’re welcome to call me Anakin, of course.”

He deliberately avoided looking directly at Obi-Wan, his former Master’s bug-eyed reaction already pushing him to the edge, even just visible as it was out of the corner of his eye.

Windu nodded in return. “Safe travels you two. May the force with you.”

“And with you.” Anakin replied.

“May the force be with you,” Obi-Wan rushed to say, after a short delay.

Master Windu turned and exited the cargo bay doors. Anakin threw out the mug in a nearby bin, pulling out a roll and biting into it before turning to face Obi-Wan. They made eye-contact, each waiting for the other to break first. Usually that would be Anakin, but he had goals now. The Knight chewed. His Master’s eyes narrowed. The older man (who may have aged significantly in the last 5 minutes) finally broke.

“Who are you?”

Anakin just sighed, maintaining the Kenobi impression. “Come on Master, we don’t want to keep the troops waiting.” With that, he walked forward, hiding his smile as Obi-Wan followed closely at his heels. 

“Since when does my apprentice visit bakeries with Mace Windu?” Obi-Wan asked, almost desperately.

“You’re making it sound like a bigger deal than it is.” 

Master Kenobi sputtered as the pair opened the airlock for the short-range shuttle. 

Anakin mustered up an earnest smile. “Master? Would you mind flying- I’m still eating and-”

Obi-Wan made an incoherent noise of horrified outrage before fumbling for his communicator. 

“What are you doing?”

“NOTHING IS MAKING SENSE RIGHT NOW. EITHER YOU AND MACE NEED TO GO TO THE HEALING HALLS OR I DO!”

Anakin burst out laughing. “Relax Obi-Wan, I’m messing with you, holy shit. Obviously I’m flying.”

Obi-Wan slumped into the co-pilot seat, rubbing at his eyes. “Don’t do that Anakin! My nerves are stretched thin enough by the war as it is-”

“Sorry, Sorry!”

They strapped in and took off, Anakin still chuckling occasionally, Obi-Wan scowling in irritation each time. 

They ascended above the towering skyline alongside the first rays of sunlight.

“So you didn’t go to a bakery with Master Windu this morning?”

“Uhh-”

[byulsgrease]

if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?

i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D

if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)

"who says we can't do something on our own?"

(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)

cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)

I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind

"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.

What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:

"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.

"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.

Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.

"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.

You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.

"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.

~~~~

With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.

The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).

A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).

After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"

The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.

"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.

The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.

That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?

~~~~

In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.

"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?

Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"

"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"

"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"

"nope :)"

You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.

In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.

"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."

"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.

~~~~

After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.

You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.

And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.

Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.

"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.

"Who says we can't do something on our own?"

[ofmythsandmadness]

touch-starved | d.h.

or...the seven times it takes diego hargreeves to realises he’s touch-starved, and the one time he actually acts on it.

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SUMMARY: diego x gn!reader. an idiot in love, told entirely from his pov as he walks back on a series of monumental moments in his life. WARNINGS: a tad bit of foul language (bc i can never contain myself, jeez). allusion to sexual acts (nothing explicit, but if you know, you know). flowery garbage writing. probably poor characterization. a weird ending. WORD COUNT: 5.7k NOTES: it’s way too late (early?) for me to be putting this out. but after literally driving myself to tears over this stupid thing, i’m forcing myself to publish it and leave it to the world, for better or for worse. it’s...yeah. i hope it’s alright. x

BUY ME A COFFEE HERE. | CHECK OUT MY OTHER WRITINGS HERE.

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THE FIRST TIME HE REALISED WAS IN THE SUMMER.

“Can I say something weird?”

There is a nervous half-giggle that came after the question, like you aren't quite sure how he’s going to take whatever slipped from your gentle, just parted lips. It hangs much longer than the five words you passed to him and he almost forgets what you asked entirely, so hung up on the breathless fashion your chuckle had come.

But when you blink at him and let your beseeching eyes hover over his, he has to let go of the sound and return to the present.

“Sure,” he says dumbly. “What?”

He loses your eyes then and he finds himself following, eager to see what could have lost your attention so fast. His frown digs heavier as you stare at the table he’s leaned over. There isn’t anything there but his harness scattered across the worn wood and a knife in one hand. He’s been idly fiddling with as some show titters in the background, but his weapon (mal??)practices have never been much interest to you before. So...

Slowly a warm smile comes to cradle your cheeks. It rests as delicate as a crashing wave colliding with the great cliffs you had painted once -- like with everything you did, your smile’s a charging force that transforms you entirely and leaves him in awe that anyone could feel something so strongly. He watches with total enthrallment and for once, he’s not ashamed to feel so.

“You have like, really nice hands.”

You drawl the statement out like it’s some kind of joke. Though, the intense look you so briefly shoot him tells him it's anything but. And suddenly he cannot do anything; the knife falls from his hands and clatters to the table and his fingers tremble under your careful stare, paralysed. 

“I-I-”

“-I know, weird compliment, but,” you chuckle again, low and soft. You shrug. “I was staring at them and realised how nice your hands are.”

“Uh…” he doesn’t know what to do with that information. What does one say to that? Is thank you enough, or is he supposed to just force a laugh and pretend like he is not completely ruined by the way you look at his hands? Compliments are not a usual weapon of choice, but when they come from your lips -- Diego can die right there and go overjoyed.

“Thanks,” he mutters, folding and unfolding his hands on the table. “I...never thought about my hands like that.”

You brighten. In a flash of pastel movement you were pressing close, close, close to him and reaching for a fist. He’s again powerless, forced to just watch you pull his fingers in between your own, softly running gentle pads against his bruised knuckles. The touch is cool but he feels his body combust at the mere swish of skin-to-skin contact and he realises,

maybe he could crave someone’s touch.

“You should,” you grin, exquisite under your apartment’s shitty lighting and the flashes of whatever’s happening on the T.V across the room. “You could like, seriously be a hand model or something. Go-orgeous fingers.”

And maybe, he starts to crave yours.

━

THE SECOND TIME HAPPENS WEEKS LATER. 

He’d fantasized about your touch most of the days between it, but the thoughts had been forced to be fleeting and he had avoided considering the way you looked at him like he could actually hang the moon and stars -- and it only ever caught up to him in the ebbs of night, when he couldn’t sleep and just stared at the ceiling, considering what it would be like to really feel you against his hands and not let you slip away.

He so rarely let the sun touch his skin anymore. It wasn’t intentional to adapt a vampire lifestyle -- but between the shifts that let him keep his dingy ‘home’ and the nights he spends racing around the cursed city, trying to do the right thing (or stick it to his dad, depending on the night and how bleary his head felt), Diego rarely catches himself leaving the gym early than eleven anymore.

A fact that seems to exasperate you, and fuels what you dubbed an intervention. Aka, forcing him to wander around the city just barely kissed by autumn’s chilly embrace. And though he did argue against it (profusely, because he’s still that stubborn sonofabitch), he’s grateful for you still.

“I think we need to make this a regular occurrence,” you sing, tossing a smile over your shoulder. You skip several paces ahead of him as you soak in every bit of sunshine the crisp fall air could offer you. And he flounders and watches as he wonders what it would feel like to have that much energy from merely existing.

“I think I’m gonna have to mandate this. I’ll force you to schedule this into your life, and I’ll take shifts off from work so we can appreciate the afternoon sun while we can. It won’t be long ‘til winter you know.”

He chuckles hesitantly, “the sun’ll still be there in the winter.”

“Sure, but barely. And it’ll be cold then! The sun ain’t nice when it’s cold.”

He laughs again, and you join him. And it’s easy -- because it’s you.

“Diego!”

“Huh?”

You stop then, dropping your hands to your hips and glaring at him. Even from several feet away he can make out the infuriatingly adorable pout that puckers your pretty lips and the way he wishes he could go back in time and learn to paint, so he could capture the curve of your --

“--why are you so slow?!”

“I -- I’m not slow.”

“You are too! You’re dragging your feet like I’m forcing you to go to the dentist or somethin’.” You squint at him as the sun heightens his reach in the great blue sky. “Man, are you that allergic to a good time?”

“Shut up, I’m not that bad.”

The pout gives as easily as honey dripped -- that is to say, he adores the treacly sweet and slow slip from puckered lips to the easy smile you give him. Your entire heart’s behind the look just as it always is. You trot back up the path to him and held your hand out to him, wriggling it in the air.

“What?” he asks, frowning through a slow smile. 

“Take my hand.”

“I…” he hesitates again. “Why?”

“Because you’re slow, and I want to make it to the coffee place before next year. Duh,” you drawl, still shaking your hand like one would to a little kid. “Now, come on!”

You pull and he comes without a fuss, dazed as you bumble on about whatever miraculous happenings go on inside your mind. He hardly hears a thing. Every part of his body is fixated on the soft brush of your thumb against his hand, rubbing soothingly -- he isn’t even sure if you knew you’re aware you’re doing it, but he is. Hell, he can’t feel anything else but that.

Maybe your touch could be a tether.

━

HE HADN’T MEANT FOR THE THIRD TIME. Hadn’t planned to make an event out of it, anyways.

“You’re a fool, Diego. You know that?”

Obviously, he responds silently, grimacing as the cloth presses harder into his cuts. That’s why he did it. Because he is a fool. Honestly, that sums up the majority of the things he does in his life. Or doesn’t do, in the case of you.

Is it bad, if as you scold him, he’s creating a list of even more reasons to love you?

“I mean, one of these days you’re going to come here impaled on like, a pole or something and then -- what am I supposed to do with that?” Your tongue clicks like a disapproving mother’s, but your eyes still dance with childlike mischief as you work. “I am not a nurse.”

“Could’a fooled me, with those hands.”

You glare up at him over your lashes, a sight that made his breath hitch. “Quiet, you.”

Diego does as you said -- but not for any bits or for the joke, only because the way you look at him suddenly made his body tremble with the force of a thousand men and all he wants is to grab your neck and drag you up to meet his lips, finally be rid of the burning sensation in his gut that makes him want to ask the most obscene of--

“--does it hurt?”

He blinks, forcing away the images flashing in his mind so he can focus on the real you again. “Uh -- does what, hurt?”

You take that as a joke, laughing low like his horny idiocy deserved such praise. “This, asshat. Does this,” you press harder with the swab, making him cringe, “hurt?”

“Shit -- yes, it hurts! What’s that for?!”

“Had to make sure you were with me still! Sorry,” you hum, sounding everything but. But your grip softens. “You’re lucky. This could have needed stitches.”

Diego snorts. “It’s not that bad.”

“You look like the fookin’ dino from Jurassic Park felt you up.”

“Not that fookin’ bad,” he mocks back. 

“Your accent is appalling.”

“So’s yours.”

You press harder; when he scowls, you giggle, pleased to have won the battle again. 

The rest comes in silence. You stand between his legs, mopping at his cuts as you are often wont to do when he stumbles into your window. And he tries not to think about the way your weight so casually presses up against his torso as you reach to his temple, parted lips just out of reach. He could do it; he could just reach out and grab your chin, pull you in and kiss you with all the fucking passion that made his stomach roil.

But he doesn’t budge. There is no way you want that and he would never push past that fragile boundary without asking, no matter what the primal part of his mind fantasizes. His eyes fall instead down to his lap, staring at the folds on his pants as your fingers graze across his skin.

“There,” finally comes, along with you stepping away. Your distance leaves a cold chill running down Diego’s spine; he wonders if he asked you to come back, if you would. “Almost done.”

“Almost? What’s left?”

The next few moments move like a movie. The ones he only ever watches with you or with Klaus; the cheesy slow-mo romances, where the two main characters constantly dance around in a will-they-won’t-they that usually drives him nuts. Everything is always so slow in them and he usually hates them -- he did hate them. But when it’s his hands cradled in yours and you are smiling sweet and gentle as a honeybee, hell he’d take every single second of those crap rom-coms, if it leads to that moment more.

You lean in and, holding his hands in your own like an anchor held a boat to shore, press your lips against his temple. The slightest sting from the pressure builds but it falls with the blink of an eye. Your lips are cold, delicate, brushing twice against the cut before pulling away.

“There. Now I’m done.”

Maybe, you’re just some kind of angel.

But then, why are you bothering with him?

━

THE FOURTH HAPPENED SO FAST, he nearly misses it.

You pull him in close, examining his clothes and face for any glaring wounds. When you find nothing but dirt and a couple surface scratches, your worried expression melt into something akin with relief; a shiny-eyed, trembling lip smile that deserves its place in the greatest museums.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” you whisper, seemingly untrusting of your vocal cords. You sniffle. “I was - I was so--”

“--I’m okay.” It sounds more like a revelation than a reassurance and he repeats himself twice, just to make sure you understand. His hands still grip tight to your forearms, holding you to him in case you would disappear, too. “I’m okay. Everything’s fine.”

You nod and even as you pull away from his hold, you launch. Your arms lace around his neck and your face instantly finds a place to bury itself, right into his shoulder. Your body shakes; he realises that you’re crying into him, so relieved with him being there.

The embrace is short. Too short. He doesn’t do enough to hold your clinging form, only standing there slightly swaying and just barely grazing your back, He considers it too long and doesn’t act enough even when he wants to beg you to never let go again. And when you pull away, you refuse your tears again, sniffling through a smile and asking if he wants some food. But the embrace remained ingrained in his thoughts like a disease; it polluted everything else until everything was you, just you, holding him and wanting him.

Maybe, he was deserving. Maybe he deserved to be wanted. Was that justification enough?

━

THE FIFTH HE ALMOST DIES.

Not literally that time -- no, he’s done enough of that to you. It’s more of a metaphorical sort, making his heart stop as your fingers just graze against his stubble strewn chin, his breath catching on the lump in his throat as he realises yet again that nothing could be more beautiful than your smile.

Diego is not a formal man, nor had he ever really been. Even at the Academy his uniform was almost always somehow out of place or wrinkled or missing a detail. He hates shirts that buttoned all the way up to his throat and pants that have to be pleated that one specific way for no reason at all. If it isn’t important, he wears whatever is closest to him, or his domino-mask-and-leather getup if he’s ‘working’. Hell, the man isn’t even sure he had ever worn a suit outside of his childhood years and Allison’s wedding.

“You look...different.”

He swings fast around to see you leaning against his doorway. You’re all pink cheeks and cheeky grins. Something about the way you look him up and down makes him suddenly want to hide, slip away so you could not see how stupid he looked in this stupid monkey suit clinging to his arms and thighs like stupid plastic wrap. You probably see him as a circus animal, stuck in some stupid performance outfit and told to juggle fire. 

(Honestly, juggling fire would be worlds easier than doing whatever this was, though.)

Slowly, you step into the room, eyes never leaving him. He gulps.

“You look good, Diego.”

He blinks. That is...unexpected. “Y-yeah?” Damn his voice for giving out on him; it comes out squeaky and prepubescent, sounding every bit of uncertainty he feels. “I-I mean, I--”

“--relax, hot stuff,” you wink and his face fills with heat. “You look great. But, your collar…”

Diego glances down only to scowl at the mess of buttons he left around his neck. “Shit, yeah.”

“Let me?”

But you’re already coming to him, though, hands outstretching and delicately folding themselves across his chest. He wonders if you could feel the way his heart beat like there were a thousand drums locked into his chest, or that you knew you smelled like the gods’ ambrosia, honey -sweet smoke dripping from your velvet form. Are you aware how intoxicating your mere presence is?

“Can I?”

He nods dumbly, not trusting his words.

With careful fingers, you weave the buttons together that have been left undone. You then reach up higher, pressing down his collar. 

You hesitate against him, hands still folded into the sharp white fabric. Slowly, one set of fingers unfurl and lift to barely brush against his jaw. It’s a mere allusion to what it would be to have you cradle his face in your caring palms and it only leaves him craving more. 

Your lips curl up too, coloured as deep as the fabric that clings to your exquisite form. Just the tip of hot pink snakes out of your mouth, pressing slyly to the top lip, riling the hotblood boiling inside him right up to the brim.

“What…” the single syllable comes out strangled and hoarse. You’re strangling the life out of him without even moving a finger. Do you know your power?  “What are...what are you doing?”

In hindsight, that’s probably the stupidest question he could have asked.

You baulk and immediately pushed away from him. The fingers glide from his chest and chin and leave him cold. Gone was the confidence you had offered so easily before; he watches, stunned as your eyes fall to the floor, no longer eager to meet his.

“You look good, Diego.” You smile but that time it doesn’t look real at all. “Have fun tonight.”

“Wait, I--”

--you offer a wave and nothing more. Your figure crosses the room and leaves him alone in between the four walls that seemed to press into him without your comforting presence.

Maybe, you could care for him, too. As he wants you too. Is it selfish to think so?

━

THE SIXTH TIME, HE’S ALMOST ASLEEP.

Honestly, Diego isn’t sure how his head had ended up in your lap, or when his body had melted so effortlessly into your own. It wasn’t the alcohol; two beers isn’t enough to kill all of his conditioned issues or turn him into a total sop. It hadn’t even been intentional, nothing about making room or trying to do anything.

But there you are. Your thighs are his pillows and your hands kiss across his scalp, weaving through his hair like it’s yarn to be woven into something beautiful. Once in a while you pause and he thinks that that’s it, you would force him up -- but then you continue like nothing had happened and he continues to lay like a fish out of water across your legs.

Neither of you had talked about the incident before. It was simply avoidance until you both decide to brush it off and move on, forgetting all about the awkwardness. Or, at least, that’s what you silently promised.

But it’s late. Neither of you are thinking. Or, he isn’t at least, when his head slips from the couch to your thinly clad shoulder. And you hardly react when he relaxes even more, silently gesturing for him to use your thighs as a headrest as the movie neither of you are watching drones on. You make some sort of joke, something stupid and it usually wouldn’t be enough to convince him to act so foolishly. But he is tired, and you are you, and it’s all too easy to give in to you.

So he lays. Your hands in his hair. On your lap. Like a baby incapable of even sitting on his own. He should feel unbelievably stupid, right?

“You’ve got beautiful hair,” you mumble, eyes dragging off the television screen to your lap. He barely catches your soft, smiling gaze before it slips back up, but the memory sticks with him long minutes after. “Wish you’d let me play with it more.”

But he can’t bring himself to hate this moment.

He half-snorts, half-laughs because what a funny statement that is. In his state of lovesick, exhausted delirium, Diego hardly recognises himself telling you that ‘you can play with his hair any time you want’.

“Really?”

“Uh…” he had not meant to say that out loud. “I-I--”

“--thanks, honey.” Your hands linger against his temple before stroking down his wavy locks. Honey. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He pulls off of you after a short while -- not because he wants to, because he’s guilty to take your loving hands for his selfish needs. He claims the bathroom excuse and leaves with his head floating in the clouds. The domestic bliss you offer him wasn’t something he thought he wanted, before -- but every time he leaves your bubble, he finds himself more and more starved for your touch.

He leaves your place high on your smile and still stuck on the way you combed through his hair. Even after pulling away yet again, he’s still happy and actually hopeful.

Maybe, he could actually have this, more than just one random rainy night. Maybe he should try.

━

THE SEVENTH TIME, HE ALMOST KISSES YOU.

Almost, because he, Diego ‘number one himbo’ Hargreeves is a self-labelled idiot who loses all cognitive abilities and brain cells when he lays eyes on you, and fails to be able to use them for all the time you’re around him.

And it’s the moment when he finally fully comes to realise the extent of his overwhelming, absolute adoration for you.

He’s never been so bad with that sort of thing. Before he could throw an easy smile and wink his way into a heart he’d no doubt break the following morning and pull a quick-run attraction like it wasn’t anything. But with you? The idea of even your touch turned him bashful and running for the hills, you know...like an idiot.

It takes you pulling him along every single time for him to react and even then, it’s never enough. You’re always left with a pouting lip and that strange, far-off look in your eyes that tells him he’s screwed it up all over again. Every time you get close he’s too blind to react the right way.

Your head on his shoulder, the world’s at peace. He wants you to stay by his side forever. He’ll hold you as long as you want -- hell to his arms, you’re worth the ache or the crick in his neck from bending the wrong way. He’ll let his body waste away and his mind turn to cobwebs if it means an eternity on your balcony, wind in both of your hair and your hands interlacing between his own.

“This is nice,” you murmur. “Yeah?”

He nods. His chin bumps awkwardly against the crown of your head, but you don’t seem to mind.

“I don’t normally like the quiet. But it’s nice like this. With...with you…” you hesitate on the last syllables and the ‘you’ comes out thick and garbled. But he gets it anyways, and somehow he has the emotional strength to pull you even close to his hulking frame. You’re very close to sliding onto his lap and he’d be lying if the idea to just go all the way doesn’t spring to mind. But he doesn’t move.

“It’s nice, knowing you’re here. Safe, alive...with me.”

Diego smiles into your hair. “It is nice.”

Aaand the ‘most obvious statement of the year’ award goes to him. Yet again. Why do you put up with his thick-headed responses? And why can’t he explain the fuzzy feeling in his throat that he gets from being near you, and the desire to give up everything else just to exist by your side? A simple ‘yeah’ doesn’t cover that and he knows that, he knows he has to tell you the entire adoring truth but --

“I like being around you, Diego. You know that, right?”

If he’s being honest...he can’t really believe that. The idea that someone like you enjoys his company is a farfetched concept. But his head bobs up and down again anyways. 

“I, uh...I like our friendship.”

Did you -- did you just friendzone him?!

Did he really just --

“--but sometimes…” you snort out a derisive laugh, “sometimes I wish we were a bit more. Y’know?”

He shifts his weight on the chair and stares down at you, unsure what to make out of any of it. “I - uh - whatdoyoumean?”

“I just, I think we’re good together.” You move too, so he can finally see the pretty way the moonlight bounces off your irises. You’re smiling, and he can’t help but smile too, hopeful and eager as a puppy would be. “And I want to, just...man, I wasn’t expecting this to be so hard to say.”

Vaguely, Diego hears himself respond with a grunt (it’s meant to be an ‘it’s okay’, but apparently English isn’t his strong suit).

“I just like having you around. A lot, if that’s not obvious. I know I’m, heh, kind of a lot sometimes. And I’m trying not to be so uh, affectionate because I know that’s a lot for some people and I never want to overstep, or--”

“--you’re not,” he says quickly, finally finding his voice after oceans of gaping. “I like you being affectionate. It’s nice.”

Your smile grows. “Okay, that’s good.” You hold his fingers a little closer and he’s on cloud nine, staring at you like you’re the eighth wonder of the modern world. “Because if I’m being completely honest here, I don’t want to stop. I...I like you. Generally, in the sense of, more than just friendship. D’you get what I’m saying here?”

“Uh…”

“I don’t want to read into things too much, but I can’t stop myself from feeling really strongly about you. And I don’t want to go on like this, without telling you I’m like, head over heels for you at this point.” You blink up at him, pleading for him to not let you down as you finish with, “is there any way you feel the same?”

What Diego should have done, and wanted to do, was to tell her exactly how he felt, and pull her to him and pull the most cheesy, most cliche Hollywood moment in all the world. He’d finally get the girl in the moonlight as the stars sing above him and the world sleeps below and it would be perfect.

What Diego actually does, is leave.

Cold, and alone, with no hand to hold and no head resting on his shoulder. He leaves you bewildered and probably pissed off and he leaves with no explanation at all -- just a garbled sentence or two that adds up to nothing. He drops his shattered heart at the door and wanders  home shivering and hopeless, knowing he has just fucked it all up.

As he stares at the sidewalk and plods down the street like a lonely, hard down soul, Diego wonders if he’s deserving of your touch. If he was allowed to open up and feel your affection so strongly as you give it. He wants to like you would probably never believe. He wants to hold you and he doesn’t want to let go again. He’s starved for your touch and he’d trade the sun and stars to keep you by his side, no matter the costs.

But you’re worth more than him. Shouldn’t you offer your heart to a better, kinder man? To someone who knows how to hold you properly, and offer his touch right back? Not someone who shivers away or rejects your kindness like a parasite. But someone brave enough to feed you with all the adoration you’re worthy of. Shouldn’t he be who you seek?

Maybe, Diego muses, the universe is wrong, and the mistress is nothing but a cruel meddler too eager to break his heart.

But maybe, it’s his own fault, and she’s not cruel at all.

His pace quickens a beat, and he suddenly knows what he has to do.

━ 

DIEGO’S LIKE NINETY-NINE PERCENT CERTAIN THAT NO ONE, no one living soul, had ever said that the eighth time was the charm.

But if he had to be the first, hell he’d ring that bell a thousand times if it got him where he had to be.

He’s running like a madman. And he’s not drunk, even if at least five people have grumbled that about him -- no he’s as sober as the day he was forced into the world. He’s made a thirty-minute walk of hell into somehow a twelve-minute dash through the cold streets of their shitty city and he feels like a god, if gods were desperate sonofabitches who never knew how to acknowledge their feelings until it’s too late.

He takes the stairs, too high on adrenaline to wait for the elevator. He gasps and huffs and pants his way up but he makes it and keels down the hall to your door, falling against it with all his weight. It’s a foolish move but in his defense...his legs are about to give out, and all the energy he’s devoted to this half-baked, foolish, love-drunk plan is very quickly running out.

He pounds against the door weakly. “Hello? Hello? I--” 

and then he literally crashes into your apartment.

You both tumble to the floor with a loud thud-thump and he’s so glad you have thick carpeting because he could have probably split your skull right open with the fall. He’s smart enough to roll, so he cushions your upper body with his, but you still groan as you make contact with the floor. His entire bone structure quakes at the feeling of ground hitting him and even with nary a breath in his throat, immediate guilt floods his system.

He falls back and silently screams, wishing he had more tact than this.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m...I’m so sorry,” he offers with a smile. He quickly props himself up over your body and tries to look as sorry as he truly feels, though it’s hard as his breath still won’t come and he’s still absolutely exhausted from running all this way.

Why did he do all this again?

Oh, yeah.

“I-I love you,” he spurts, followed by him rolling off and promptly falling into a coughing/choking/hacking fit.

You lay beside him, silent and stunned. He can’t see you as he coughs but his mind tries to put the pieces together, and none of it looks good. You’re probably annoyed, and mad that he’s even there so late and after what happened before, and you’re probably tired, and maybe sad, or hurt, or uncomfortable because you just jumped from friends to him admitting he loves you and --

“-did you seriously run all this way and body me, just to tell me that?!” 

He pulls himself together long enough to breathe and then turn so he can stare at you. You’re still beside him, body still pressed against the floor (possibly broken after having a much larger man knock you over, who knows) and you’re…

“You’re smiling,” he responds, like it’s the most shocking thing in the world. “You’re - why-”

“Last time I saw you, you were running out of my place like your ass was on fire. And now you come here, knock me on my ass, and tell me you love me?! Diego...uh...wow.”

Diego just stares back at her. He’s still struggling to breathe and if he’s being honest, he’s not sure if he can function after any of this. He just wasted so much of his courage (something he’s never been good at keeping stock of) on just getting here, how is he supposed to collect himself and head out the door with any sense of dignity? Or answer you in any way, shape or form? How is he supposed to even move when you’re looking at him like that?

Wait, you’re...you’re looking at him like that. Smiling, doe-eyed, honey-sweet and beautiful even after being violently collided with and forced to your shitty carpet…

“I love you,” he breaths, soft but still sure. He grins back at you and he feels like an idiot but he holds strong. “And I’m really sorry about before. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m just, all this stuff is stuff I’ve never done before, and I--”

And without another word or even the chance to think, your lips are on his.

Well, they probably were meant to be. What really happens is with a grunt and a swift push, you shift over to him and move to kiss him, only you’re both still smiling and absolute idiots who then just bang teeth against teeth. And you’re left groaning and keeling back, both gripping your mouths while still smiling and,

Ohmygodthisisamessbutohmygodishesohappyandinlovewithyou.

“I’m so sorry,” you groan, muffled behind your hand.

“Me too -- for knocking you over, too!”

“Yeah, that’s gonna leave a bruise.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you chuckle, and lift up again. You hover above him. His nose just barely brushes against yours and he’s straight back into heaven again, even as the embarrassment floods and his teeth ache. “I mean, I would have preferred a bit more warning, but...at least you don’t hate me.”

Diego grins and lifts his hand to push a tendril of hair behind your ear. “I could never hate you.”

“That’s a relief.”

“Mm-hmm. I’m glad you don’t hate me.”

“Please,” you roll your eyes and shove at his chest. His heart beats even faster. “Like I could ever hate you.”

He lifts his head, trying to pull himself up to meet your lips, but you dart away just enough so he can’t. “Can - can we try this again?”

“Mm…” you pretend to consider his request like one would a business proposal. Your thighs tighten their grip around his stomach and a part of him just wants to pull you in and act as his heart pleads. But, given the last time he did that...and the last time you did...he’ll take this slow.

Instead of answering, you lean down and press your lips to his. It’s gentle and leisurely, but he takes every motion in stride. You’re everything he expected and more. Soft petals of reddened flesh against his, your hips just barely grazing against his own, making him want to pull you into his body and never let you leave his side. He’s jubilant and exhilarated and he almost laughs like a baby as your tongue swipes against his bottom lip.

“If it isn’t obvious,” you breathe as you pull away, “from the way I let you tackle me to my floor,”

“I’m really sorry about that,”

You pull his hand up and intertwine your fingers, shaking your ‘head’ no. “I love your touch-starved ass too, Diego.”

“Good, cause this would have been--”

“--no more talking, chatterbox. Just kiss me and shut up.”

And he lets go of the maybes, and just loves you.

SECOND A/N...this ending is just ackwa!?!hiwogh. very annoyed with how it went, but if you know me, you know i suck at conclusions in every sense of the world and i also always leave them to the very last minute, meaning i’m typing this note as i read over the ending and hate it even more. and i’m sorry for the vague messiness of this! I had an idea, failed to deliver it the way i wanted, and a cool thought turned into a half-baked fic. thank you to those who read this, sorry’s also extended your ways because i know this isn’t fantastic. lmao.

- xx 

[realcube]

waking up the hq boys at midnight to get ice-cream hcs🍦

characters: tsukishima, tanaka, nishinoya, ushijima, sugawara,  oikawa,  kageyama 

note: yes, this was very much inspired by that one tiktok sound where the girl wakes up her bf to get ice-cream- 

also, i use midnight as like..the middle of the night- not actaully 12AM lol

tw// fluff, sangwoo- 

Tsukishima Kei

you did not need to wake him up at 1AM to get ice-cream

man was already up, having just came off his phone and laying like this 😐 in bed as he either waited for himself to fall asleep or was thinking about an awkward interaction he had earlier that day 

anyway, as soon as you turned to him like ‘tsukki, do you wanna come with me to get ice-cream?’

he was suddenly 😴 fast asleep, fake snores and all

you were stubborn though, so you hopped out of bed up to go get ice-cream by yourself if he was just going to ignore you 

although, once you threw your coat on, tsukishima decided to start questioning your unusual behaviour, ‘why do you want ice-cream? it’s night; can’t you just sleep like a normal person and have ice-cream in the morning?’ 

honestly, tsukishima probably finds your nightly antics more endearing and cute rather than annoying 

he’d never admit it though- 

if you talk to him after midnight, on the outside he always looks displeased but really, he loves talking to you period

whether it is at 5PM or 1AM

you shrugged, without an explanation for your craving, ‘i don’t need to reason my midnight urges to you.’

with that, you turned on your heels to head out the door with the full intention of going to get ice-cream - this wasn’t a game 

tsukishima groaned as he finally deduced that you were being dead serious and not just doing this to irritate him

‘ugh, wait.’ he scoffed, forcing himself out of bed to follow you, ‘we have ice-cream downstairs, dumb-ass. don’t bother going out.’ 

you didn’t spare him a glance, continuing to venture to the front door, ‘yeah, but we don’t have strawberry.’ 

tsukishima glared at you, realising that persuasion would not work in this situation so he’d have to resort to brute force and trickery

‘ah, alright.’ he let out a sigh of defeat, ‘at least give us a hug before you go then.’

you paid no mind to how he referred to himself as plural, which is something he only does when he is lying or guilty as he is talking on behalf of his two faces 

also, you should’ve realised something was up when he actually asked for a hug instead of just expecting you to give him one

obliging, you wrapped him in a hug; allowing him to scoop you up into his arms, throw you over his shoulder and carry you to the kitchen

‘let me go, you whore!’  you squealed, lightly slapping his back as if that’d make him let you go 

tsukishima snickered at how childish you were being, ‘you can’t go out in the middle of the night to get ice-cream. you’ll die.’ 

‘i won’t die!’

‘you definitely will.’

anyway, he ends up making you both a bowl of ice-cream and eating it with you at the kitchen table while watching Spirited Away

and despite the fact he had some too, he’ll tease you about this for..the rest of your life 

like sometimes he’ll just wake you up in the middle of the night (during holidays ofc - he respects your sleep schedule) and whisper in your ear, ‘(y/n), do you wanna come get ice-cream with me?’

Tanaka Ryūnosuke

IORFHIEBGEGBO THIS MAN

ik most ppl would think he’d just go with you without a second thought or that he’d be the one asking you to go out for ice-cream but- no- 

well, yes; he wants to 

but when you wake him at 1AM 

(which he doesn’t mind btw bc  sometimes he accidentally wakes you up at like 3AM bc he’s ragin’ on Battlefield oop-)

and you’re all like ‘ryū, wanna go get ice-cream?’ *puppy eyes*

he’s like ‘sure!- but i ain’t got money so- no ❤’ 

then he goes back to sleep 

however, if you say that you’ll pay..he’s already standing with your bags by the door

so you’re definitely gonna have to fork up some cash for that good quality pistachio gelato for him if you want his presence 😌

but tbh, if you said that you were just gonna pay for yourself, he’d come anyway-

Nishinoya Yū

y’all go out at midnight for ice-cream at least once a week-

and it literally began bc you were watching ASMRs and Mukbangs together at 1AM during a sleepover 

and one person was having some lemon gelato and it looked 👌✨ immaculate

in that moment, you both looked at each other and neither of you had to utter a single word for you both to know that there was a mutual goal in mind; to get ice-cream, ASAP

so yeah ig you didn’t have to wake him up but you did need to awake the desire for ice-cream inside him

needless to say, y’all ran to the nearest ice-cream place 

and you made a race out of it 

(you won, ofc)

AND YOU BOTH SHARED A CUP OF GELATO AND IT WAS SO CUTE ! q(≧▽≦q)

and y’know the trope where you have food on the corner of your lip/chin etc and the person kisses you to get rid of it? 

yeah he tried to do that with the trope in mind but he deadass LICKED you IWFBVBBFRI

he was like ‘omg (y/n), lemme get that for you’ 😋👅

honestly, ig it depends if you are into that kinda stuff but ik some ppl would leave fast af ( ﾟдﾟ)つ Bye

Ushijima Wakatoshi

sorry i might have a bit of favouritism going on but i feel like ushijima would be a bigger bitch about it than tsukishima (at first)

but it’s like- solely bc you woke him up y’know?

‘ushijima, wanna go get ice-cream?’

he’s just laying there with his bed-head like :/

silently livid bc you messed up his potential 9 hours of sleep

‘no.’

pester all you want but that is the best you’re getting out of him that night

HOWEVER, the following afternoon (after practise ofc), he took you out for ice-cream 😊

and unlike some would believe (by ‘some’, i mean myself 2 secs ago.) i don’t think he’d be all ‘ice-cream is horrible for your health, (y/n)’ or ‘i can’t believe you’re eating that filth. your body is a temple.’

but that rather he’d just happily eat gelato with you; everything in moderation ig :)

OH AND HE’D PURPOSELLY BUY A DIFFERENT FLAVOUR FROM YOU SO HE COULD BE LIKE

‘(y/n), do you want a bite of mine?’ and give you a spoonful to try like the romance king he is  

Oikawa Tōru

you wouldn’t wake him up bc mf needs his beauty sleep

plus, it was during a sleepover at your house so ofc you didn’t want to wake up your guest 

but he’s a light sleeper so when you’re shuffling through your stuff at 1AM, sneaking around the house to find a jacket (trying to be as quiet as possible so you don’t wake him up); his eyes are open and he’s speculating that sangwoo is near

until he turns around to notice that you’re not laying next to him and he is in fact being spooned by a large pillow (probably a sangwoo body pillow smh)

after that, he hops to his feet and storms through the house in search of you so he can yell at you for ruining his sleep grr

however, once he finds you and realises that you look ready to head out, he feels inclined to firstly ask, ‘where are you going? you know it’s 2AM, right?’ 

you replied by explaining your plan to sneak out for ice-cream and he just stared at you, absolutely bewildered for a few moments

he stood like a statue with that stupid expression on his face for ages so you asked him if he was alright, to which he responded, ‘that’s such a stupid idea.’

‘so, you’re not coming with?’

‘of course i am.’

so you both ended up sitting with your ice-cream cones, in your pyjamas, on a park bench somewhere, admiring the moonlit sky along with the stars adorning it

oh, and that was actually the first time he said ‘i love you.’

Sugawara Kōshi

if feel like suga would be exactly like the guy in the sound/video: confused, tired and extremely reluctant but ofc inevitably he ends up standing outside of a dessert place, hand-in-hand with you

he’d wake up, weary from fatigue and he barely has the strength to argue with you during the day - so how exactly was he supposed to do it in the middle of the night? 

thus, he lugged himself out of bed and threw on a coat but as soon as the cold winter air bit at his nose, he was flooded with the energy and will-power to try convince you stay in with him

(It’s his parental senses) 

‘you’ll catch a cold, darling!’ (yes, he does call you that.) ‘and it’s night too, there’s probably a bunch of creeps out and around!’

at that point, it was just a battle of will

bc you both had each other’s wishes at heart

you wanted him to have peace of mind and he wanted you to have ice-cream

(and he was kinda craving some himself tbh)

so you both decided to stay in, tucking into the half-eaten tubs of Ben & Jerry’s in the fridge 

and after that, neither of you got any sleep bc you both stayed up watching movies and cuddling 🥺

Kageyama Tobio

he was wide awake at 2AM, laying beside you on the bed, practising sets 

so ofc the time wasn’t an issue

but kageyama wasn’t big on sweet treats so when you suggested that y’all should go out for ice-cream, you were shocked - to say the least - when he simply replied 

‘sure’

like why would he oppose? he was already awake. plus, he was kinda craving something sweet tbh

also, he could tell it’d make you happy and he’s whipped tbh

so you took advantage of this indifferency by immediately jolting up and dragging him to your favourite dessert place

the whole time, he acted as usual - it was as if he was just on a regular walk to school

when you got there, you both shared a sundae and he paid; what a king (❤´艸｀❤)

(it was bc you had forgotten your wallet/purse at home- but still a kind gesture 💕)

you both just sat in a booth, pecking away at the sundae while talking about anything and everything that came to mind as the low, distant R&B music from the shop’s speakers played in the background

 ‘it is flat. have you ever been on a plane before, (y/n)? did you see a single curve? no.’

you rolled your eyes, finding it physically painful how stupid kagyeama could be sometimes, ‘it’s science, kags. the earth is round! the curves are just very subtle.’

‘no.’

‘YOU CAN’T SAY NO! IT’S SCIENCE!’ 

[thran-duils]

Use All of Me (P.7)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Seven) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 3,097 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: I really like writing scenes of them working because… it’s hot. So, part of this is me indulging myself.

Part Six || Part Eight || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Steve got back onto the plane, sitting down as soon as he could. He was covered in sweat, having had to run back to the plane. He had sent Natasha ahead of him, insisting he could finish the mission on their escape. He had succeeded too.

“You alright, Cap?” Clint called from the cockpit.

“Yeah,” Steve answered as heartily as he could. He wiped at his forehead, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

“Must have been a tough sprint if it wore your ass out,” Tony commented from further into the plane.

“Got it done,” Steve responded, to a smirk from Tony.

As he relaxed, he pulled out his phone from the bag on the table next to him. He opened it, searching the cameras of the house for Y/N. It was something he did regularly when he was away; he liked keeping an eye on her whenever he could. He enjoyed watching her do regular things, even when doing nothing like sleeping. She was tranquil and he loved her pensive looks when she was reading or focusing on knitting.

Now though, she was racing through the house towards the front door and his brow furrowed in curiosity of what had her so excited.

He switched cameras to the driveway and saw a car pulling in. He straightened up in alarm, trying to zoom in on the driver. He relaxed, remembering their conversation a few days ago. He had told her that she could have her friends visit soon. She had technically asked but had not clarified when.

<> <> <>

They were here!

You came down the stairs as quickly as you could. Natalie and Yua had driven up upon your request. You told them Steve was going to be on a mission across the country, so it would be okay for them to come over for a few hours.

In the main living room, Bryce was talking to the front gate saying he was not informed any visitors were coming.

“It’s my friends!” you told him, slowing down next to him. He shot you a look of surprise. “Tell the gate to let them in or I’ll run down the driveway and push the button myself.”

“Did you ask Mr. Rogers? Does he know?”

“Yes!” you called over your shoulder. You were barefoot, not stopping to grab shoes. It was warm enough out being late summer.

<> <> <>

Bryce stared after Y/N confused. Steve had told him no such thing. He watched her disappear around the corner, and said into the phone, “Yeah, let them in.”

<> <> <>

Steve watched Y/N come out the front door – wearing no shoes at that – excitedly. She practically threw herself into their arms. Jealousy crawled over his skin; she had not done that for him for a couple months. She responded when he initiated sex and kissed him when he came home. But it was never with that much enthusiasm. Perhaps it was her pregnancy hormones; it is what he had to chalk it up to to avoid outright anger.

He dialed Bryce’s number and held it up to his ear.

“Don’t let them stay too long,” Steve ordered Bryce as soon as he answered.

“She did ask you, correct? She said she did.”

“Yes… she did,” Steve said with some difficulty. “I am just irritated I had not been informed exactly when she meant. But she did ask. We just have guests coming over later, remember?”

“Of course. I haven’t forgotten, sir,” Bryce replied.

“Good. I want Y/N to be able to freshen up with enough time. She doesn’t need to spend the whole afternoon giggling like a schoolgirl with her friends. And no, they can’t stay for dinner. Because I know she’s going to ask.”

He hung up the phone.

“She’s quite the little handful sometimes,” Tony commented lightly. “A foxy little handful. But a handful nonetheless.”

“Unfortunately,” Steve muttered in response, returning to the camera.

“You ever watch her shower on there when she’s alone?”

“Jesus, Tony.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Tony returned quickly. Steve gave a little laugh and Tony chuckled, wagging his finger at him. “See. I knew it. Nothing to be ashamed of. She is ultimately yours after all. Totally okay to be examining your most prized possession.”

“Who is over there?” Natasha asked.

“Her friends, Natalie and Yua.” Natasha perked up at the mention of Natalie and Steve noticed. He shook his head, “No. Not happening.”

Natasha mocked a pout, “Oh, come on, Steve. I don’t rough girls up too bad. She seemed interested enough. Even if she was seeing someone at the time. She may be single now.”

“Not happening, Nat. I don’t want anyone else there so we can talk freely.”

“Fine. Buzzkill,” Natasha muttered, leaning back in her chair.

<> <> <>

“Twins?” Yua and Natalie exclaimed at the same time as soon as you told them.

You nodded, cracking open your pop and taking a swift drink. You had asked the maid, Patricia, to whip up some sandwiches to have lunch with them. The three of you were seated in the living room, plates in your laps.

“Yeah. Can you fucking believe it? My first pregnancy and I get slammed with this.”

“Well, I won’t deny you got slammed—” Yua started.

“Oh, shut it,” Natalie cut in, slapping Yua upside the head.

“Ow! Okay, well, also, look at your tummy! I wouldn’t believe that you would be already showing like that if it were just one baby!”

“Yua! God!” Natalie scolded. “It’s not that big, Y/N.”

“It’s going to get a lot bigger,” you joked, a smiling tugging at your lips.

“See, Y/N can take a joke. Why can’t you, Natalie?”

You smiled at their banter, a feeling of loss tugging at your heart. You had missed last month and the month before girl’s night much to everyone’s disappointment. You had vowed to not make that mistake again which is why you had asked Steve if your friends could visit and he had agreed without much resistance, shockingly.

“How are you going to take care of two babies?” Natalie asked seriously as you picked up half of your sandwich, taking a bite.

“A nanny.”

She cocked her head in surprise. “Like… live in?”

You shrugged, “I’m not sure yet. Pepper is going to come over at some point and help me interview people.”

“Pepper?”

“Um, Tony’s wife.”

“First name basis with them now. Nice,” Yua said, nodding in approval. “You’re in with the big people now. Thanks for honoring my request to remember us little people. But, do you really want a live in nanny? If you do, you should get one that’s not too comely. Don’t want Steve Jude Law’ing you or anything.”

“Honestly, if he gave me a break, I might actually welcome the reprieve.”

“I TOLD you. Sex addict!” Yua exclaimed, throwing her hands out, her mouth full of sandwich. “I mean, the pregnancy—" You shushed her, trying not to laugh. You knew Bryce was nearby and you did not want him to overhear. She quieted down and whispered, “I told you. Didn’t I?”

Time flew by; sandwiches long gone, replaced by a bag of chips that were on their way to being completely demolished had taking their place. When you were interrupted with a clearing of a throat, the three of your eyes fell upon Bryce standing in the doorway from the hallway.

“Mr. Rogers said three hours. You still have to get ready for dinner tonight.”

“Oh…” you said, heat tinging your cheeks at being told you had a schedule to keep in front of your friends. Especially since dinner was mentioned and he was essentially telling you you needed to kick them out. “But, there is room—”

“Mr. Rogers said the team only,” Bryce cut in, only looking slightly apologetic at having to tell you that no, you could not ask your friends to stay.

“Dinner? And you didn’t invite us?” Yua teased.

“It’s with the team only, apparently…” you trailed off, shooting a quick glance at Bryce. He nodded once before turning to leave the room. “Steve wanted them over so we could break the news about the babies to everyone.”

“Oh, so we were the first you told? Perfect. I love feeling special,” Yua chirped, not seeming bothered by the fact she could not stay. Natalie on the other hand looked reserved; she had always been more perceptive than Yua.

“Of course you’re special, Yua,” you said, standing up from the couch. “I suppose we should… start saying goodbye. Have to make sure my hair is nice and all.”

Standing outside, Natalie turned to face you before getting into the passenger side. She leaned in, staring at you. “Are you sure you’re okay?” she asked, the playfulness from moments ago having disappeared from her face. She was solemn, studying you closely.

You forced a smile, “I’ve got to be okay.”

“No. You don’t.”

“I know,” you whispered, giving her hand a squeeze. “It’s not all bad though.”

She exhaled heavily, looking dissatisfied with your answer. “Not all bad doesn’t mean good, Y/N.”

“It’s just… different,” you said, choosing your words carefully. “And I’m nervous. I mean, giving birth to one baby is terrifying. But going through the pain twice? What if they fight to be the first one out?”

That at least made Natalie laugh, relaxing the tension. You took the opportunity to pull her in for one last hug.

“Call us. For anything.”

“I will.”

As soon as they disappeared out of the gate, you felt weight pressing down on you again. You were alone once more. The mere few hours you had together had been reprieve but it had been far too short.

Annoyance built up in you at Steve refusing to let them stay for dinner. Deciding right there, you thought to hell with looking perfect. Simple hair, leggings, and winged eyeliner was the best he was going to get. You turned to go back inside and let Patricia know she could go home because you were going to be the one cooking dinner.

<> <> <>

Pepper sighed heavily settling into one of the tall plush chairs at Steve’s – well, your – kitchen island.

“Where’s Patricia?” she questioned, seeing you removing the chicken from the marinade Patricia had let it sit in for the better part of the day. You arranged it in two prepared pans, enough pieces for thirteen people, including Bryce and Eloise.

“I sent her home early.”

“Oh?”

You shrugged, “I wanted to cook the dinner myself. She’s wonderful but I wanted to do it myself. It calms me down. Always has.” You checked the clock and saw it was almost 5:00pm. Dinner was supposed to be at 6:00pm. The chicken would take thirty, so you decided to wait another ten minutes before putting it in.

“As long as you don’t poison me,” Pepper joked as her nanny, Eloise, came into the room, bouncing her baby. She smiled, “Oh, is she awake now? Ugh, she’s probably going to keep me up all night. Something to look forward to, Y/N.”

“Wonderful,” you said under your breath as you went into the pantry to look for the potatoes.

Pepper spoke to Morgan, playing with her as you turned the heat up to high on the stovetop to get the water boiling and began chopping the potatoes. Skin on, you thought to yourself. That is where most of the nutrients were anyway and Steve could not complain about you getting more nutrients now could he? You were going to roast them too.

“Shit,” you muttered to yourself remembering you were going to roast them. You moved to the fridge quickly to grab the baking soda and eyeballed the amount to toss in.

“What are you doing?” Pepper asked from the counter.

“Baking soda helps draw the starch to the surface and then when you bake them, it makes them extra crispy.”

“Interesting,” Pepper commented, sounding genuine. She eyed your stomach and said, “Are you wearing a loose sweater on purpose? Hiding a baby bump?”

Snorting, you lied, “There’s not much to see yet.”

“You’ll start showing more soon enough. You’re almost four months along now,” Pepper told you.

“Steve is very excited for that.”

“Men love seeing it because it makes them prideful that they put a baby there. But they’re not the ones growing the baby, are they?” Pepper noticed your stare over your shoulder, and she laughed. “Well, it’s true. I think women are our own brand of superhero. Our bodies are powerful. You should be proud of yourself. You’re doing something remarkable.”

You refrained from telling her she sounded a little Handmaid’s Tale-ish. It was true, of course. Your body held a special kind of magic to grow another human being. But like Bucky, she sounded like she was trying to coerce your thoughts and feelings to be more accepting of the situation.

“It’s not what I had planned for myself,” you finally said after debating about what to say. You opened the oven to slide the pans with the chicken inside. Now to prep the salad. Shit, you also needed to get the wine.

“Me either.”

You stopped what you were doing, standing still to give her your full attention.

“I hoped I would be on the board at Stark Industries. It took a long time for me to admit to myself I liked Tony, first off. His attention he gave me, his sarcastic wit. Yes, he was a little forceful, but he saw something there that I refused to see because I was so focused on getting a leg up in the company.” She was explaining all of this to you calmly, but you sensed some hurt beneath the surface. She gave you an encouraging smile all the same as she said, “Things don’t always work out the way you plan. But it doesn’t make it the end of your life. Just life as you knew it. Change doesn’t mean everything is falling apart.”

“And… you’re satisfied being home and taking care of a baby then?”

Pepper was quiet for a moment. “Most of the time.” She shot you a look. “I think you understand Steve and Tony are very much alike in their… ways and temperament. There will be days you pine for what could have been. But it’s best to keep that to yourself. It’s not worth the fight.”

She sounded like she was speaking from experience.

“I have a different sort of power now. You ever seen My Big Fat Greek Wedding? ‘The man is the head of the house, but the woman is the neck. And she can turn the head any way she wants.’” She leaned in. “Make him happy and you can have him wrapped around your finger. It makes things easier. For everyone.”

You bit back a comment, nodding in its stead.

“Trust me,” she said, leaning back in her chair, turning her attention back to Morgan who had began pulling at her hair. She poked Morgan’s tummy gently, smiling, “You little hooligan. I spent a long time on these curls. Daddy loves them, don’t go ruining it for him.”

Self-consciously, you touched at your hair that you had barely spent any time on. It looked fine but you had not put any extra effort into it. You had already made your choice though: a good dinner and sticking it to Steve subtly about waving off his ‘freshen up’ idea for you or do exactly as he asked, letting someone else cook the meal for the guests coming to your home. You had chosen the former.

A line of cars rolling up the driveway caught your attention out the window, and you told Pepper, “Looks like they’re here.”

You went back to attending to the potatoes, prepping them for the oven.

Tony came in first, much to Pepper’s happiness. She rose to give him a kiss and he commented that she looked lovely. He said hello to Morgan, tickling her, before his gaze fell on you. You could feel the heat of his stare on your back.

“Y/N is cooking?” Tony questioned. “Where’s the cook?”

You looked over your shoulder and said with more conviction than you felt, “I sent her home. Wanted to do it myself.”

“Hmm.” His expression and tone were unreadable, which made you slightly more nervous. Gauging his reaction would help you determine what Steve’s was going to be more accurately. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“Nothing, just cooking tips,” Pepper told him without missing a beat. She held Morgan up to him. “Your daughter is in need of some cuddles from her father.”

Steve walked in next with Bucky, Sam, and Clint. His eyes fell on you, running over you quickly. He was stoic for a few moments, taking it in. Your resolve to be a brat was dissolving quickly, even if you knew he would not cause a scene in front of everyone. There was ice behind his eyes, if only for a moment that you caught.

“Seems Y/N is doing the honors of making our meal. What a treat,” Tony said to Steve and you knew then what his real feelings were about you cooking. You had a maid for a reason, that was the message.

The mask Steve donned was well crafted. “Truly. She hasn’t cooked me anything since we first started seeing each other. I have faith in her.”

He came over to you and now that his back was to everyone, you could see the truth in his eyes. He was not pleased with the situation, which had been your goal. Steve’s hand rested on your stomach, his nose nuzzling into your hair, inhaling deeply.

“We’ll talk about it as soon as everyone leaves,” he whispered into your ear. He placed a quick kiss on the side of your face before pulling away.

The dinner had gone well, everyone satisfied with the meal and even more happy with the announcement. That still did not quell Steve’s disappointment in your choice to be preoccupied with cooking rather than entertaining and spending quality time with your new pseudo-family. Talk about it you did not though. As soon as everyone left, Steve turned away from the door, not sparing you a look. He did not answer his study door when you knocked and called his name. You slept alone and cold. He shut you out and you hated to admit how much the rejection stung more than if he had yelled at you.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick , @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre, @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters

[pi-cat000]

BNHA: Kakashi dimension hops crossover (4)

Summary: Kakashi gets dumbed into the My Hero Academia universe through random plot devise.

Characters:  Kakashi Hatake

Fandoms: My Hero Academia and Naruto

WARNINGS: Mentions of violence/injury

START  / PREV / NEXT

Doctor Wada makes an unscheduled appearance the same morning. Kakashi has the doctor’s schedule memorised and knows the man usually spends his first work hour in his office before checking in with various patients. The change is not unexpected.

“Ms Iori finished her rounds, marked everything as normal and handed the ward off without incident.” Wada and one of the floor’s morning shift nurses talk, voices lowered, too quiet for a regular person to pick up.

“It was called in around 4:15 am. We confirmed it as a burst blood vessel behind his quirked-eye, but we don’t know what triggered it. Without examining the eye itself it is hard to draw any definite conclusions. Since we don’t know what his quirk does, we didn’t want to risk staff safety without a specialist on hand.”

“Nothing else? No other symptoms?” Wada asks.

“No external bleeding. No signs of irritation around the eye socket. Clear, coherent verbal responses from the patient. Vitals are stable.  The dressings on the eye were changed yesterday, and nothing was flagged then either.”

“I see. Thank you.”

Depressed at the thought of what amounted to a forced long-term infiltration mission, Kakashi’s attention drifts away from the hushed conversation. Kakashi has never been assigned to any extended infiltrations. Long, tedious things that they were. Jōnin were usually too valuable to waste on them. Even before he had made jōnin, his skillset lent itself to tracking, assassination, ambush and one on one combat not undercover assignments. It was just his luck -or maybe it was karma-that he had been shunted into one. Three years of ‘mingling’ amongst these soft-acting civilians, waiting to build enough chakra for an attempt at a technique he wasn’t even sure would work. It was enough to make even the most battle-hardened shinobi depressed. 

Maybe he should run off and hide somewhere. He would skulk around for three years avoiding the locals. Less of a hassle that way. Kakashi lets out a weary breath.

“See if you can bump up that MRI. We need to make sure this isn’t anything serious,” Wada’s voice breaks through his musing as the doctor starts in the direction of Kakashi’s bed. The nurse he is talking with nods and leaves.

“Well, you have certainly had an eventful night,” Wada greats when he draws near, leaning in to visually scan Kakashi, “Let’s see what we have going on. Can you close your left eye for me so I can unwrap it?”

 He habitually pushes down his natural discomfort at having a stranger close to his sharingan as the doctor reaches to tilt Kakashi’s head to the side for better access. If he was going to be stuck here then he should maintain his complacent, harmless persona. At least, until he leaves the hospital. Besides, if they had wanted to hurt him, they would have done it while he was unconscious.

“No swelling around your quirked-eye and the bleeding has stopped, that’s a good sign. We’ll run a few tests and get to bottom of this, not to worry.”

“Yeah. About that,” Kakashi rubs the back of his head to look sheepish and apologetic, “I might have tested out my, eh, quirk. You know…I wanted to see what it would do…”

There is a beat of silence, the older man drawing away, too surprised to respond.

“I think it lets me memorise things it sees?” Kakashi continues. Even if he wasn’t 100% sure about what he would do next, he is not about to abandon his shaky amnesia cover story.

“Of all the reckless, irresponsible decisions!” the doctor snaps out of his surprise moving straight into anger, “I expressly told you to wait and not to mess with it. You had no idea what sort of quirk it was! What if you had injured someone or yourself.” The concern seems pretty genuine and Kakashi almost feels bad for manipulating him.

“Young people these days…honestly. No patience.”

Young? It had been a while since anyone has called him that. Kakashi is practically ancient by shinobi standards. The response prompts a semi mournful, almost amused sigh from him, “I know, I know. I just wanted some sort of clue as to how I got here.”

The doctor takes a frustrated breath, calming “Yes. I know it’s frustrating, being restless and hold up in this bed for three straight weeks, but there is a procedure to these things. You got lucky that the only side effect was a burst blood vessel. Next time you want to test your quirk we’ll make sure it is in a controlled environment with an expert on hand. I don’t care if you have some sort of passive regeneration, quirks can be dangerous. The hospital has offsite testing facilities for a reason.”

“Yes. I understand. I won’t do it again,” he says dutifully and gets a huff of disbelief and a head shake.

“You better not.”

A pause.

“So.”

“So?” Kakashi raises a brow.

“So what did you discover? Explain it to me again.” Wada motions, impatient, repositioning a nearby chair so he can sit comfortably beside the bed.  

“It lets me remember things…” Kakashi had given a lot of thought to what he wanted his fake ‘quirk’ to do without giving too much away, “I’m pretty sure I remember anything it looks at perfectly.”

A somewhat true explanation, in that recoding information and prefect recall was one facet of the sharingan; a side effect of its primary function which was to copy ninjustu and taijustu. The explanation also played into the diagnosis Wada had already written into his medical files, making it more believable.

“Then, lucky for you, something good came of your reckless behaviour.”

Kakashi just smiles which elicits the beginnings of another lecture. “Not that you should ever take quirk safety lightly. Quirk licenses exist for a reason. People can’t go about throwing their quirks around willynilly. A licence, I might add, that you don’t have.”

“Sorry. Sorry.”

After witnessing several televised reports on police arresting people for quirk misuse Kakashi knows the people here, for whatever reason, are leery when it comes to using their abilities. To the point where they actively outlaw it. He is banking on Wada being sympathetic enough not to push the matter.  

Wada sighs again, “I’ll write it up as accidental use this time. Now. If your quirk lets you remember everything perfectly then what about your past memories. Any change on that front?”

“No. Still gone.”

“I see. That might mean the part of the brain linked to its memorisation function was damaged, disrupting the memories stored by the quirk,” Wada rubs his chin thoughtfully, “We’ll have to run a few more tests…a lot easier now that we know what it does I suppose.” Good. That was the conclusion he wanted Wada to come to.

“Alright, before we get to testing, were there any other side effects. Aches, pains, fatigue?”

Even as the man asks, he is pulling out a familiar penlight to shine in Kakashi’s regular eye.

“No. Nothing.”

What follows is his standard check-up routine. His vitals are recorded, his head checked over, the area around his sharingan examined thoroughly. Again. Well, as thoroughly as it could be examined without uncovering it. Next is an inspection of the chest wound he now knows is from Obito alongside a glance over his shoulder, arm and leg. Wada nods to himself as he goes, signalling that all is well.

“Your blood pressure is a little high for my liking. I’m guessing you didn’t sleep much last night what with how you were messing around with your quirk. Make sure you get a good night’s sleep tonight,” Wada instructs as he fits Kakashi with a padded eyepatch instead of the usual wrap of bandages. He pauses to wait for a nod of confirmation.

“I will,” he blatantly lies. Kakashi hasn’t had a proper night sleep since waking up the first time, dozing for shortened intervals only. With so many squishy doctors around he doesn’t want to accidently hurt one of them should he be woken from a nightmare. It did put additional strain on his body.

Doctor Wada peers at him, “We’ll give you another week of monitoring then get some authorised quirk testing done. A brain scan as well. Depending on what we find, we’ll see what we can do about getting you a diagnosis and then discharged.”

“Hmm,” he answers, noncommittally. Not like he has anywhere else to go until then. If this were Konoha, he would have taken off long before now and seen to his remaining injuries alone. This would be the first time in a long while that he is waiting for an official discharge. 

Guess he would be finding out how the hospital dealt with amnesiac patients after they healed. In Konoha, a displaced citizen would be given a menial labour job as part of the village’s many reconstruction projects and sent on their way. But this wasn’t Konoha and he should really stop with the comparisons.  

He needs to decide what he wants to do: Take off, find somewhere secluded and wait the years out. Or hang around to try and salvage the situation. This world did have a lot of interesting technology so there might be value in getting a better feel for the society here. Maybe he would find something useful to take back as an apology for abandoning everyone…

What a mess this all was.

...

...

...

The following week has Kakashi splitting his time between gathering supplies for a chakra storage seal and reading through Wada’s patient files to get a sense for his upcoming quirk tests and ‘brain-scan.’

He also takes the time to read through everything else Wada has in his office - mainly medical journals - to better understand the biological differences inherent in a place without chakra. Primarily, the people were physically weaker. However, there were a lot of mutations or ‘secondary quirk factors’ which reinforced the body to better deal with the stress of the primary quirk. All interesting and potentially relevant information to remember when he got into fights. Once he knew a person’s quirk he would be able to guess how their body was reinforced and act accordingly. A fire quirk would make someone naturally heat resistant but not impact resistant, is what Kakashi concludes as he re-reads the profile of current number two hero ‘Endeavour.’ The magazines gifted to him by Iori all contain a statistical breakdown of the top 10 heroes, their strengths, weaknesses, and their criminal apprehension and crime prevention rates. It is a list that rarely changes between issues. He commits it all to memory, idly planning out combat strategies that didn’t involve obvious ninjutsu or chakra use. It helps pass the time when he is not trying to make sense of what he sees on television or stalking various people around the hospital. 

At the end of the week, he steals Wada’s fountain pen, adding it to his growing pen hoard which he stashes in a vent on the roof. The storage seal he wants to make is complex and would need ink to complete.  A mix between a chakra-draining-seal-trap and a storage scroll, it is well on its way to completion. 

The seal would drain his chakra at a consistent and manageable rate, store it efficiently,  and give him a way to turn the chakra drain off and on at will. Also, as a precaution, he includes an emergency stop in case his chakra levels became dangerously low, so it didn’t accidentally kill him if he fell unconscious.

The seal would need to be positioned somewhere on his body in a spot where the doctors wouldn’t immediately notice. He doesn’t what to explain why he suddenly has a tattoo.  If he had had access to properly made fūinjutsu ink, the seal would be invisible. Alas, he would have to make do with chakra-infused pen ink.

Kakashi manages to keep himself busy enough that he expertly avoids making any concrete decision on what he wants to do with the next three years.

.

Note: this is slowly turning into a medical drama

NEXT

[emrysaf]

Never Enough Pt. 15

@peggycarter-steverogers​ @dottirose​

Hey you

Can you tell me when enough is enough?

When you've pushed enough buttons and it's time to back up?

Well, would you know when someone else has had enough of you?

(Of you) Of you

(yes, you)

Just take a second, you should listen to yourself

Everybody is to blame, but no one else is around

Is any of it sinking in and making sense to you?

(Of you) Yes, you

(It's true)

Is there no means to an end?

So tell me, how does it feel to know that no one is coming?

No one is running

When you hit the ground (you hit the ground)

How does it feel to know that no one's around you?

No one will be there

When you hit the ground (you hit the ground)

How does it feel?

How does it feel to be alone?

Well, now that I've got you here and you're all alone

Is there anyone you need to call before we move on?

Well, is there anybody out there thinking of you?

♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫🎝♫

Bucky had perked up when Steve’s phone rang. He had been awake next door for almost two hours; the same sleep schedule he’d been on since Y/N was sent to that facility.

-----------------------------------------------------

Steve and Tony in his Iron Man suit stood in front of Wanda as she slowly brought the ex-assassin out of his mind-lock. To him it would be like no time had passed, but it had been almost a week and Y/N was already gone to the hospital.

The mind-lock was like a zombie state. He was out for the count mentally, but he ate and slept to keep his body healthy. The team had seen the effects of his anger when he lost time due to the winter soldier brainwashing; here he would wake up still in the last thought, sight or thing he heard before he was put under, and once he realized what had happened he would be pissed. So, Tony and Steve were there to guard Wanda as all this had her drained as well.

“Y/N,” Bucky muttered as his eyes seemed to focus once more. He shook his head a little as he met Steve’s eyes, “What- Steve?”

As expected, the darker-haired super soldier completely lost his shit as the past week’s events were explained to him. But the ire quickly faded as he saw the pain in everyone’s faces, and Steve said, “She told the med staff she didn’t want to see any of us pal. I saw her for a few minutes here and there, but she refused to talk and none of us were allowed in her room. And then she requested a transfer to a regular hospital. She- Her enhancement is gone. At least for now.”

The concern that had made him so angry at her, at the world, came back full force. And it seemed it would keep him up at night for the foreseeable future.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Now here Bucky was trying to listen to the phone call. 

But it would seem Steve was aware of possible eavesdroppers and lightly muttered a, “Be right there.”

Bucky rose to his feet to meet him at his doorway, and opened his door right as Steve was trying to rush past. “What is it? Y/N?”

“Pal she- It’s not good, and I’m gonna head up there.”

“Not good?” Buck questioned in a short tone. “The hell does that mean Steve?”

“They said she’s fine physically,” Steve lead off. “But they were saying something about a lot of blood and glass.” When Bucky went to open his mouth Steve rushed on with, “I’m going because I am her proxy. The no-contact demand she made still stands. I probably won’t even see her. I will be back with more information. Okay, pal?”

When Buck nodded Steve resumed his sprint to the garage to drive away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------

Steve returned to the compound mid-afternoon to F.R.I.D.A.Y. announcing most of the team had left for an emergency mission. “Mr. Barnes requested to be notified of your return. Should I send a message to the helicarrier?”

Steve thought for a second, and said, “No F.R.I.D.A.Y. give me a bit of time. I’m trying to figure some stuff out.”

“Very well Mr. Rogers.”

Now that he didn’t have to be worried about Bucky hounding him for information on Y/N Steve sat hunched on the couch to think. Still wondering why Y/N never said anything about her infertility or even her concerns about it. He thought they were close. Like the sister he never had.

So lost in his thoughts he was; he didn’t notice Wanda coming down the stairs from her room until she was already storming towards him.

“What happened?” she asked like the didn’t believe the thought out words he was saying. “The doctors told you this? Why didn’t she- This is why she didn’t want us there when you brought her back.”

“What do you mean, kid?”

“She said she didn’t want the team to see her,” Steve nodded following her thought process. “But she really didn’t want me to come see her. She didn’t want me to read her. But if she said only I wasn’t allowed then it would have seemed suspicious.”

Now Steve was a bit confused. He thought Wanda couldn’t read Y/N; remembered laughing conversations between the two about that very topic.

Wanda picked up on his thoughts again and explained, “I couldn’t read her because however her enhancement worked. The electric current was like static if I tried. But if you told her she was just human again. . .”

“But why wouldn’t she want us to know? We are- Were her family.” rushed Steve feeling the guilt settle in his stomach like a weight.

But Wanda, so wise for her years had this answer too, “She didn’t want him to know.”

Steve nodded, but he and Wanda were thinking the same thing. He deserves to know.

[softluci]

omg, hey, how r u, hi, so nice to see u; welcome to my 3AM (now 6AM bc miss hellsite deleted everything) ramblings (which i will try to make as close to the original as possible); this one’s gonna be a Doozy

now that ap testing is over and i have more time to care about literally everything else, i realize that i . i am So Bad at taking care of myself. like, so bad. and i actually realized this months ago but i didn't have this account months ago and i didn't think of this months ago so—

((i was debating whether or not to limit this to gen z but i know it isn't just us who do this; or maybe that’s wishful thinking and it Is just us, but idk, man,, i feel like millennials be doing this too))

sometimes, a lot of the time i just . don't eat . and i don't have a bad or difficult relationship to food or an eating disorder or anything like that, i just Don't Do It because i either legitimately forgot or i didn't feel hungry even if i hadn't eaten for a significant period of time (6-18hrs, we'll say, because i do lose track). like,, when quarantine started, i was in my room, door Locked, for 15 to 19 hours a day + i wouldn't leave unless i had to use the bathroom or shower. i only started eating and leaving my room more because my mom had to ask me to. oh, and this should be obvious, but i don't sit and eat dinner with my family either.

additionally, and this is Much More Frequent, i don't sleep. i know i don't sleep because i slept for nine hours today and woke up dazed and confused. when we had school, i would either sleep for 1-6 hours or just not at all. and then i'd go to school and not pack anything to eat :p. i actually think the longest i've gone without sleep is a full day. and i don’t have insomnia or anything like that, i just be Staying Up

so, with those things in mind, i've been wondering, like,, like how the boys would react to an m/c like that, you know?

like, okay, first of all,, there's No Way mammon is gonna let mc sit alone in their room all day. his emotional support human?? alone without him??? unacceptable. it just isn't happening. he would Literally break mc's door down if they tried to keep him out, unless they, for some reason, really, really, really needed to be alone, and even then it is a Tossup. and then not sleeping or eating? hello, what do you think this is? he would accommodate them for a little while by bringing them food and making sure they slept but after a while he would literally drag them out of their room because there is no way. there is No Way he’s letting them turn into levi. not on his watch 

an mc like this would give luci an ulcer. a literal ulcer. why are you a human and playing with the limits of your body?? who are you, do you think you’re made of metal? do you realize you have classes to attend and that you’re surrounded by demons literally All The Time? you cannot be caught lacking (i.e. feeling faint or fatigued because you haven’t eaten in seventeen hours or slept in a day). he would bring food to your room so he could make sure you ate, but when it came to sleeping? get ready to literally be dragged/carried out of your room and into his because he has work to do and he needs to keep an eye on you because Clearly you cannot be trusted to take care of yourself. he would probably go as far as to stop doing work and go to bed so you have nothing to hold against him. can’t sleep at a regular time because of your nonexistent sleep schedule? that’s okay because, beloved, He Is Putting You To Sleep. how he does so is up to you; and if you try to play like you’re Fine?? 

“mc, it’s seven pm, when was the last time you ate?” “five.” “am or pm?” “...” “well, when was the last time you slept?” “i haven’t.” “MC.” 

you haven’t slept in just over a day? baby, levi’s record is three. he would be absolutely terrible for an m/c like this; he would enable them So Hard. maybe he would bring them food (and that’s Snacks, not actual food), and Maybe he would tell them to go to sleep once or twice, but Other Than That? he can’t take care of himself for Shit either, sorry you had to hear it from me, leviastans <3

asmo,, you are worrying this man Sick. you haven’t eaten in fifteen hours? are you on a diet? no? you Forgot To Eat? how many hours of sleep have you gotten? one? you Think? oh, Maybe it was two? ah, yes, mc, because that is So Much Better. seriously, though, if you won’t eat, fine, but if there’s one thing you’re doing, it’s sleeping. you can’t sleep at a decent time because you have no concept of a sleeping schedule? sweetie. beloved. he is putting you to sleep, be it through relaxing self care or something else, darling, you are knocking out. and when you wake up, he’ll have a full course meal ready and he will literally feed it to you himself.

what’s that? you haven’t eaten since Yesterday and it’s three in the afternoon? oh,, you sweet summer child, beel is heartbroken. keep insisting that you aren’t hungry while you can barely stand and his eyes will fill with tears. you don’t wanna leave your room? fine, but that is the only thing keeping him from throwing you over his shoulder and going to the kitchen. he would literally bring you as much food as he could carry and only eat a little bit on the way back to your room. can’t sleep? not a problem, wait there while he gets belphie to charm your pillow. do Not worry, teddy bear beel always has your back MUAH

speaking of belphie,, tell that man you haven’t slept in a day and he’s stopping what he’s doing, dragging you to the nearest cushioned surface, and laying down with you; you’ll be out in No Time. and once you’re up?? he’s dragging you to the kitchen and you’re eating any and everything he puts in front of you, and he’s not leaving you alone until you’re functioning like a human and not a gremlin, or so help him, you’ll die a second time. 

you’re like, op,, y did u put satan last?? i couldn’t think of anything for him until now, i Swear i love him, okay, Anyway, you haven’t eaten in almost a day? do all humans do that? no?? why can you Barely Stand??? do you need to be carried to the kitchen? he is so confused as to why you just Haven’t Eaten when that is a basic function that humans need to complete or else they literally die; now wait in your room while he brings you something to eat. you can’t sleep?? do Not worry, that man will curl up with you and read to you until you’re Knocked Out, which won’t take long because he has a calming presence and a soothing voice, sweetheart, u r in good hands

ok it’s 7AM and i’m contemplating doing the undateables,, should i do the undateables? i’m gonna do the undateables. 

oh my god,, if luke finds out that you haven’t eaten in, eighteen hours and you haven’t slept in like twenty,, the way you’re gonna have to put in Work to convince him that you did those things of your own volition and the demons you live with aren’t starving or overworking you and No they aren’t forcing you to lie about anything. after you’ve done that, he is seeing to it that you eat something right away; it does not matter where you are, you are a human and you’re feeling Faint around literal demons, are you Dumb? are you Dumb of Ass?? come with him immediately before you hurt yourself or get hurt, he is feeding you and then you’re sleeping in his room and he’s Not taking no for an answer; don’t even think about telling him no, he’ll cry at you. 

you cannot tell me simeon is not the doting/fussing type, okay, and he is appalled. Appalled. what did you just say. the reason why you don’t look so good is because you’ve been up since Yesterday and you haven’t eaten since then either? why? what do you mean you forgot to eat; what kind of human Forgets To Eat? oh, you didn’t forget? you just didn’t feel like getting up? you’re gonna give him an ulcer. if he doesn’t do anything else, he is getting you something to eat, you literally just activated every older sibling/parental instinct he has from luke being an angel. he will literally take you to the closest place with food, sit you down, and buy you whatever you want, and if you say you don’t want anything, he’ll buy you one of everything and give the leftovers to beel, do Not test him. and when you’re done eating, you’re taking a nap. where? anywhere. no one will disturb you so long as he’s there, you’ll sleep perfectly fine <33

dia is half horrified and half intrigued. you haven’t slept in how long? are humans supposed to do that?? NO??? like,, part of him wants to see how long you can last without sleep or food just to see the limits of the average human and part of him wants to feed you and make sure you sleep immediately. he would have to fight every urge to do the former, but once he did, you are eating everything he finds and you are sleeping for however long his Humans 101 manual says you should sleep for. 

i am so thoroughly convinced that solomon literally would not care at all you have No Idea- 

like,,, i just feel like he’d ask you if you were alright because you looked a little off and you’d tell him you hadn’t slept or eaten in a while and he’d first look at you like you were literally out of your mind and then depending on where you were, Maybe keep you company (read: make sure nothing happens to you) while you take a nap, or Maybe buy you food, or take you to the house or purgatory hall (whichever’s closer) because he wouldn’t leave you alone,, surrounded by demons, ever; let alone in your current state. ok wow maybe he does care what a sweetie

barbatos would literally. he would keep his ^_^ cool facade, but on the inside he would be Screaming. full throttle internal screaming that has been going on for centuries just got several notches louder because you can’t take care of yourself, i hope ure happy. you haven’t slept since yesterday? one notch. you didn’t eat breakfast or lunch? another notch. you feel faint? oH WOW REALLY??? I FUCKING WONDER WHY another notch. come with him. please come with him before he blows a fuse for the first time in 400 years because you think you’re an exception to the rules of being a human. he’s feeding you and putting you to sleep whether you think you’re fine or not; don’t argue with him, he already takes care of his immortal boss who is the equivalent of an excited child on most days or a troublesome teenager on others and he Does Not Lose Arguments. 

ok it’s almost 11am goodnight now <3

[let-it-raines]

your wonder under summer skies (5/?)

Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.

rating: mature

a/n: thanks to @resident-of-storybrooke for reading over these words ❤️

And to everyone else, happy Friday! You’ve made it through another week!

ao3: beginning | current

tumblr:  1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 

-/-

“Where are you going?”

Emma twists her head to the side and tugs her comforter up to her chest. “To get some water.”

“I wore you out then, did I?”

Emma groans and tries to get out of bed before Killian’s hands wrap around her waist and tug her back. His lips press against the back of her neck, scruff scratching against skin, and she melts into the feeling of it.

Almost.

“Wait, wait,” she interrupts, pulling away from him and twisting in the bed until she’s back on her side and facing him. He’s got red pillow creases all across his face, and he desperately needs to fix his hair. It’s a mess. They probably both are. “We need to talk.”

His eyes flutter closed before his lips spread into a smile. “I’ve found when a woman says that I’m rarely in for a pleasant conversation.”

Emma swallows and pulls the comforter up a little higher. She doesn’t know how well this is going to go, but it’s been on her mind pretty much every other minute for the past week. Well, besides when she wants to pull her hair out over the insane specificities that her boss is giving her for every event they’ve got on the books. A regular Tuesday night dinner with twenty people does not need to be the most well thought out dinner in the history of dinners, but no one seems to understand that.

A part of her almost misses waitressing, but then she remembers the pay and how shitty people are to waitstaff.

“We need to make rules,” Emma blurts out. She’s got to bite the bullet or else she’ll never do it.

Both of Killian’s brows raise at that. “Rules?”

“Yeah, about this.” She motions between the two of them. “I don’t – hell, Killian, we’ve kind of fallen into…”

“Bed?” he laughs, his lips ticking up into a broad smile.

“Shut up.”

“What? It’s the truth.”

“I know, but I – look, we’re friends, right?”

“Aye.” He nods and sits up as the sheets fall down to his waist and she’s only slightly distracted by the dip in his collarbone and the way the ink on his shoulder stretches across his skin. “To be quite frank, you’ve somehow wormed your way into being my closest mate.”

“Your closest mate who you’ve now been sleeping with for, like, a week, and not to be too emotionally aware since that is not my expertise, but I feel like that’s going to blow up in our faces at some point since we’re not really talking about it.”

Whew. She got that out. That was the hard part, right?

“Ah, so you want to make rules?”

“Exactly.”

Killian clicks his tongue and points between them. “If we make rules, Swan, it means we’re continuing this. Do you want to continue this?”

God, yes.

“I mean, I feel like it could be beneficial to both of us.”

“How so?”

He knows exactly what she’s trying to say, but the asshole is going to make her say it. Maybe she didn’t get the hard part over. “I’m not looking for a relationship,” Emma starts, “and I assume you’re not either.”

“I’m not,” he confirms.

“So why don’t we continue this? No strings attached. I don’t have to be some poor, heartbroken woman as my ex walks around with the woman he cheated on me with without a care in the world, and you don’t have to find one of your women for the summer. I can be that for you.”

Killian hums and scratches behind his ear before tilting his head to the side. The light from outside is hitting his eyes so that the blue is even brighter than usual, and a shiver runs down her spine as he stares at her.

This is weird but good.

“Rule one would have to be that we don’t let sleeping together get in the way of our friendship,” Killian starts, holding a finger up. “I can’t stay sane without having you to vent to about customers and Liam and also Will purposely not restocking my rum at the bar.”

Emma huffs. “I can’t stay sane without middle of the night slushie runs and runs with Skipper.”

“So, we agree on that then? Our friendship comes first.”

“Absolutely.”

“And we’re both fully aware that the both of us are using each other for sex, correct?”

“Well, don’t put it like that.”

“Why?” he laughs. “That’s exactly what we’re doing.”

“Yeah, but if you put it that way, it makes it sound absolutely dirty.”

“Dirty, huh?” Killian shifts in the bed and moves over toward her. Emma falls back onto the mattress while Killian climbs over her until he’s caging her in and staring down at her with those blue, blue eyes. This shouldn’t feel so damn good, but it does. “I can show you dirty, darling.”

“I think you’re changing the subject.”

“We were talking about sex.” He leans down and nestles his chin into her neck until his teeth tug at her skin, quickly soothing the spot with his tongue. “I’m simply changing it from talk to the act.”

“We have to finish our conversation,” she protests, falsely, as her nails scratch down his back. He groans, and Emma can’t say she minds the sound.

“There will be plenty of time for your lovely little rules later. I can assure you I will listen to them and follow them and do every little thing you ask of me. That’s the benefit of sleeping with a friend who is accustomed to listening to you.”

Emma’s hips arch up into his, and she gulps down as heat licks along her skin and curls between her thighs. He’s more addicting than he has any right to be, and she could definitely get used to a no strings attached kind of situation like this.

Friends with benefits.

She never thought she’d be the type of girl to do that, but it was probably because the situation hadn’t presented itself yet. It obviously has now.

She didn’t have the right friends, apparently.

“You’re a bad influence.”

“I never claimed to be otherwise,” he whispers into her ear, his voice soft before becoming gritty, almost in a blink of an eye. “Now wrap your legs around me. I prefer to do more enjoyable activities with a woman on her back than spending my time talking.”

“I feel like nothing has ever stopped you from talking before.” “Well, if my mouth is otherwise occupied, it does become a challenge. But, you know, I do love a challenge.”

-/-

Killian Jones: Rule #2. We don’t tell any of our friends.

Emma Swan: Agreed. They would lose their shit.

Killian Jones: Liam and David would join forces to keep us both locked in our apartments.

Emma Swan: David would at least give me food and water. Liam might leave you hanging.

Killian Jones: I’d somehow find a way to get Skipper to bring me food. Or you could find a way to send me something.

Emma Swan: It’d be the least I could do.

“What are you doing?”

Emma hits the button on the side of her phone and stuffs it in her back pocket. “I was checking our schedule for today.”

Mary Margaret tilts her head. “We’ve got the Silver Club’s luncheon at noon, a group information session at three, and then we have the Welcome Dinner tonight. How did you forget that? We’ve been planning this for months.”

“I didn’t forget,” Emma lies as she stands from the chair. “I was double-checking the times.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I just want everything to go well, you know?”

“Emma.” Mary Margaret walks closer and leans against the wall next to Emma. “You just ended a long, serious relationship. It’s okay to not be okay. You’ve been frazzled, and I don’t mind picking up any of the slack that you need me to pick up.”

“I’m fine,” Emma lies. “I am not at all upset about Neal. I just want to, you know…”

“You want to what?”

Emma puts her hands in front of her chest and pushes forward. “I want to push past it, shove it away.” “Of course, of course.” Mary Margaret’s ballet flat scuffs against the hardwood. “I always thought you two were good together. There’s not a chance that – ”

“Fuck no,” Emma laughs even as she wishes she could be anywhere but here. “I mean, we had our good moments, but I’ve been through too much shit to stay with him. I think for the first time I – you know what, never mind, it’s not important. Let’s get back to the dinner. Do you think it’s going to go well?” Super smooth subject change there, Emma. Mary Margaret definitely didn’t notice it at all.

Mary Margaret sighs and wraps her arm around Emma’s shoulder. “It always goes well. You’re good at this. You’ve got to know that by now.”

“I pretty much live in constant fear that Regina is going to fire me because someone is unhappy with a color scheme or because a kid is going to tell their parent we didn’t have the right kind of lemonade and then the parent decides to take rare interest in their kid for once just to make my life miserable.”

“Yeah, I live in constant fear of that, too. Those parents are scary.”

“How many are coming to the information session?”

“Ten new couples, three returning who want an update, and then we’ve got forty kids already signed up to stay in the kids’ club all summer.”

Emma lets out a low whistle. “Ashley and Aurora are going to lose their minds if we don’t get the part-time hires on board.”

“Or if we don’t help them out more than on the excursions.”

She hums and opens up the door out of her office. “I’m too busy dealing with whiny, privileged adults complaining about how the pool isn’t the right temperature.”

“You’re right. It’s such a hard life.”

Emma snickers. “Maybe we’re not meant for this job.”

“Probably not, but you prefer this to waitressing, right?”

“Oh hell yes. I will not go back to that and sleeping on your couch. You were the best for taking me in since I was pretty much a walking human disaster, but there will be no more sleeping on your couch. I like having my own bed and being able to eat food other than kitchen leftovers.”

“I do miss you on my couch, though. Lots of good talks. And my hair was long then, and you were the best at braiding it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma laughs. She takes a deep breath, letting a little bit of the heaviness on her chest evaporate. Mary Margaret pushes her a hell of a lot, but sometimes she does know when to step back. “I know you do. Now come on, let’s go make sure that there are no pink linens or Mrs. Rose will absolutely lose her shit.” “And we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Oh, I would, but like I said, I also like my job.”

“Then no pink linens it is.”

-/-

“How did I know I’d find you here?”

Emma’s heartbeat picks up at the familiar voice, and she looks up from her spot to see Killian walking down the beach toward her.

“Because Mary Margaret probably told you.”

“Damn, I’ve been found out.” He takes a few more steps until he’s sliding down onto the lounge chair next to her and handing her a slushie. “Because they melted the other night.”

Her cheeks heat at the thought, and she’s got to stop doing that. They are adults sleeping together, and there’s no need for her to feel weird about that. It’s a little weird talking about it somewhere other than a bedroom or over text, though. Yeah, that’s why his reference made her cheeks flush. That’s the only reason.

“Thank you.” She takes quick sip. “Is there tequila in this?”

“I thought you could use it after your Welcome Dinner. I know that’s hell every year.”

“Oh my God, yes,” Emma groans. “It was the worst. I swear it’s more people every year, and they all show up thinking this is going to be like that episode of Mrs. Maisel where they show up at the summer camp and never have to lift a finger. I mean, to the point where I would be putting their food in their mouths, which I am not going to do.”

“Isn’t that kind of what this is?”

Emma glares at him, but Killian not-so-slyly takes a sip of his drink and avoids her stare.

That was smart of him because she’s just exhausted enough to want to slap him for being a smart ass.

“No. We’re not a resort. They just come to the club for meals and parties and leave their kids with us all day. They ask us where they can rent or keep their boats, and I obviously only recommend you, and then they have to go home to their own homes or rentals at the end of the day where I have nothing to do with them or what they ear.”

“Oh, yeah, totally different than it being a resort.”

“Shut up,” Emma chuckles as she drinks her slushie. She’s going to have to run in the morning to work off all of the food she’s been eating today. She had so many of the cookies before they went out to the tables. “It is different. I’m just at their beck and call for half of the day. I would lose my mind if I had to do more.”

“A job’s a job.”

“And when you’re not qualified to do much else…”

Killian kicks his leg out in the sand toward her. “If things don’t work out for you, you can come work for me.”

Emma sputters out a laugh. “Liam would never in a million years let me work with you guys.”

“Oh, come on. He definitely would…at some point…maybe two million years.”

She rolls her eyes and twists on the lounge chair until she’s facing Killian again. A breeze from the ocean wafts toward her, and chills pop up on her arms. Killian silently shrugs off his sweatshirt before handing it over to her. He’s got on a Henley underneath it, and he obviously is more prepared for the late-night chill than she is.

“Liam isn’t my biggest fan. It’s okay. I’ll just have to go back to waitressing when I lose my mind on a member and throw a drink in their face.”

“Hey, now, he does like you a little bit. Let’s not immediately jump to throwing drinks in someone’s face.”

“You don’t have to placate me, KJ. Your brother is a stubborn ass to me. It runs in the family, but one of you at least makes up for it by providing drinks and mediocre conversation.”

Killian scoffs before leaning back up against the chair and running his hands through his hair. The scars on his hand look almost silver in the moonlight. She’s never noticed that before.

“Mediocre conversation? Is that what this is? I happened to think I was a brilliant conversationalist.”

“Occasionally. Did you know they want me to start wearing a uniform?”

“What?”

“Yeah, Regina is losing her shit. She wants me to wear khaki shorts and a different pastel colored polo for different days of the week, but that’s only for the afternoons. At night, she still wants me to get dressed up so I can ‘look like a member and not an employee.’”

“You’re not serious.”

“I am.”

“Damn,” Killian whistles. “I am going to love giving you shit about that.”

“Ha, I’m not going to wear the polos. I already have to wear the damn khaki shorts when we do events on the beach, but I am not wearing the polos. I’ll get fired first.”

“It’s a good thing you’ll have a job with me in a million years.”

“Two, I thought.”

“Possibly three.”

Emma laughs and settles back down onto the chair as she keeps drinking. Killian got a little too much cherry in this. Or maybe that’s just the tequila. It’s good, though, and she needed it tonight.

God, the people at the club are all so obnoxious, and she’s desperately going to miss fall and winter when she didn’t have people hounding her with questions every day all day. She deserves hazard pay for every person that makes a snide remark about the linens or someone who they think doesn’t fit the type of person they want at the club.

They don’t know she’s the exact type of person they wouldn’t want to associate with.

Foster kid, no money, little education, run ins with the law…the list goes on and on.

But she’s not that person anymore. She’s not. She’s at least got her life together in that she has money and isn’t having to steal Pop-Tarts from convenience stores.

Now she just drinks slushies from them that have tequila mixed in.

At least these were paid for.

She hopes. No, she knows. Killian definitely paid for them.

“Oh,” Emma says, “I thought of another rule. It’s kind of a big one.”

“Is it now?”

“If you want to start sleeping with other people, you can. Just say the word if you meet someone like, you know, you usually do, and we can stop. There’s no need to do it if you’re sleeping with someone else.”

Killian’s brows furrow, and he scratches his chin. “I thought we had already decided I didn’t need to find someone? I don’t purposefully look for someone, by the way. It just happens.”

“Oh, yes, I’m so beautiful too that people just line up to sleep with me.”

“I mean, you are. You’d have to be blind not to know that.”

Emma swallows and tugs down the sleeves on the sweatshirt before crossing her arms over her chest, hugging her stomach tightly. She is not going to give herself enough time to process what he just said. “Anyway, I mean that if you meet someone and want to give it a shot, go for it. Give me the word, and we can start pretending I’ve never seen your dick before.”

“Well, I mean, you already did that one time at – ”

“That was an accident,” she giggles, “and totally your fault for leaving the door unlocked while you were changing.”

“There wasn’t a lock on the door.”

“Whatever.”

“Rule four,” Killian sighs, holding his fingers up, “is that I do not have to cook you breakfast if you spend the night.”

“No. That’s a shitty rule, KJ, and you know it! You cook me breakfast now. You can’t go back on it.”

“Alright, alright, if you insist,” he laughs as his hand reaches over toward her and curls her hair around his fingers. They’re warm and rough, and she has to admit that it’s comfortable to have him hold her hand like that. “You know, Liam is staying over at Elsa’s tonight?”

“Is he?” she asks. Emma swallows and shifts a little closer to Killian, the ocean breeze suddenly much warmer.

“He is, and he won’t be back until we open at ten.”

“So, enough time for breakfast then?”

Killian’s eyes crinkle with his laugh. “Is that going to be the only reason you come over?”

“Nah,” Emma sighs as she stands from her chair, “I also really like your dog.”

-/-

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings​ @mrtinski​ @klynn-stormz​ @scarletslippers​ @jonirobinson64​ @snowbellewells​ @therealstartraveller776​ @thejollyroger-writer​ @sherifemma​ @shardminds​ @captainsjedi​ @galaxyzxstark​ @galadriel26​ @idristardis​ @karenfrommisthaven​ @teamhook​ @spartanguard​ @searchingwardrobes​ @itsfabianadocarmo​ @jamif​ @shireness-says​ @ultimiflos​ @nikkiemms​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @onepunintendid​ @bluewildcatfanatic​ @superchocovian​ @killianswannn​ @carpedzem​ @captainkillianswanjones​ @mayquita​ @jennjenn615​ @onceuponaprincessworld​ @a-faekindagirl​ @scientificapricot​ @xellewoods​ @ultraluckycatnd​ @stahlop​ @kmomof4​ @tiganasummertree​ @singersdd​ @tornadoamy​ @cluttermind​ @lfh1226-linda​ @andiirivera​ @cluttermind​

[sif-the-tsunami]

Ropes and Roses part six

Summary: Elizabeth Rosehill is a talented dance instructor and a force of nature that beguiles her famous student. Events in her life, however, have led her to search for more creative ways for her to keep herself afloat. What will she do to keep her dreams secure and what will it mean for her blossoming relationship. This is a very adult story about two people who are moderately terrible at adulting.

Warning: adult language, situations, arguing, less smut, more angst. If something in here needs a more descriptive warning I will gladly update it

Pairing: Henry and OFC (am I doing this right?)

Word count: 2K

A/N: If you read it and like it, it would mean a lot to me if you could say something nice! I have a lot of feelings this week that I’m trying to work through.

Henry woke up the next morning before Elizabeth. She was face down, her monstrous cat was curled up in a ball, snuggled up under her arm, gently purring. Alistair stared at him with his large green eyes for a few moments, fluffy tail flicking. The cat seemed to find him amusing at least. Looking around he saw a delicate crystal sun catcher dangling in the corner of her window. Tiny rainbows danced across the walls and ceiling as the sun rose. The woman in bed with him moaned slightly and moved herself on to her back. She opened her eyes briefly, smiled at him, then went back to sleep. Henry took a moment to watch her resting, peacefully exposed to his gaze. He rolled off from the bed from the other side. As the man left the bed, the cat seemed to relax more now that he was the only one in bed with his favorite human.

Henry did his morning ritual, and then started walking around her apartment while he waited for his lover to wake up. What was supposed to be her living room had book shelves on most of the walls that were crammed with different kinds of literature. She had one blank wall, but even on that one had a computer desk with two monitors, cat ear gaming head phones, and a keyboard that glowed different combinations of the rainbow while her computer was asleep. Taking a peek back at her room, Elizabeth was still asleep, he wiggled her mouse to see what kinds of games were on her desktop but her home screen was password protected. In a corner, there was a chaise lounge in a deep green velvet and a side table. No dining table or chairs, she probably ate at her computer, he thought.

Her kitchen was almost bare. One little table had a cat food bowl, the pantry had some basic staples but nothing that screamed out she hosted guests frequently. He found her coffee, and proceeded to brew a pot for them. He looked in the fridge for other breakfast foods, but he didn’t find much. He heard the thundering paws of Alistair come running to his feeding spot. The little predator noticed the light bouncing off of his watch.

“Oh, you like that, huh?” He watch as the cat chased the reflection. The two played together with the bright light, chuckling at the cats antics.

“You know, I could get used to finding you naked in my kitchen, Mr Cavill.” Her voice made him jump. “I’m sorry, I thought you heard me coming.”

She was standing in the door way wearing a loose fitting sweater. The sleep in her hair caused it to curl in every direction. The cat batted at her hand for some affection which she gave to him. He couldn’t stop staring at her again. This was the Liz he had been hoping to see, well rested and looking content with the world. She played with her kitty using the sleeve of her sweater. She asked him how he was doing after she caught him looking.

“Yeah, everything is fine. Just appreciating the view.” He said walking up to her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, reaching down to kiss her. “It’s Sunday, right? Do you want to go have brunch, I know of a couple places we can take Kal, sit on the patio.”

“Yeah, that sounds really nice.” She said between kisses.

“Go get dressed, we’ll have something delicious.” She came back when Henry was starting his second cup of coffee wearing a delicate pink dress with a light weight navy blue sweater. Her hair pulled back with some of her little curls falling down in the back. Henry had gotten into the clothes he had wore the night before and they made their way to his place. Kal had nearly tackled him when they had gotten there. Henry hurriedly cleaned up and dressed himself while Elizabeth sat on the couch to cuddle with Kal. He listened to her baby talk his dog. He was two seconds away from telling her they should just stay in and spend the rest of their time together for the day in bed. He wanted to learn every spot that made her gasp in delight.

When they finally made their way to the restaurant he had decided to put all of his cards on the table. He told her that he didn’t want to play games or hard to get. He wanted to get to know her and spend as much time as possible with her before he would have to go somewhere else to film on location. This would be the start of a fairly regular schedule they would stick to for the next two months. Thursday night he would take her out, they would spend time until it was time for her to get ready for her classes on Friday, Saturday he might watch her at the club or meet her afterwards, then Sunday they would have breakfast and part ways for a couple days to focus on work.

Soon the real world starting calling Henry back to it. They would call every night and, when they could, sneak in a few days away with each other. On one of their reunions, they hid away from their regular lives in a romantic cabin. He loved taking her to little hide a ways when he could. They would usually spend the entire time in bed with each other, nothing between them but their desires. He had looked forward to this all week and planned on making one of their favorite dinners that night to surprise her. However, when Elizabeth got out of the car, he could tell that she hadn’t been having a great day. The only thing she wanted from him right away was to be held and he willingly supplied her with affection. What started a hug turned into him carrying the woman he adored into the bedroom they would be sharing. She melted against him, but he couldn’t help but feel like there was something she was just not saying.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked after they had laid in companionable silence for a while.

“It’s nothing, I’m just pissed off about a conversation I had this morning with management. And one of my dance teachers tore he ACL so now we have to cancel all of her classes or I have to find a substitute teacher. I’m not sure which is better yet. If I have to teach it, that’s less time with you for the next six months.”

“I’m sorry, that does sound frustrating, but I’m not going anywhere. I can wait, your students need you. What was going on with the other problem?”

“Just some stuff with the Fox Catcher. I evidently am not drawing in the audience like I used to. They want me to do something different.”

“What kind of things are they suggesting?”

“They usually suggest two girls, which I’m fine with. Those nights always sell out, we might be able to market it as the subs are competing or whatever. But one of the owners came up with a completely idiotic idea. They want me to start dominating guys at least once a week.”

“No, out of the question.” He sat strait up. “I don’t care if you have to have sex with your girls on stage to get more asses in chairs, I’m not okay with you doing any of that with another guy.”

“What?” She was quite taken back by him.

“I’m dead serious, Elizabeth.”

“Henry, this is still just being thrown around right now.”

“And I’m telling you not to.” He pulled back further.

“But I can have sex with another woman? I don’t plan on fucking anyone else outside of this conversation, my dude. What kind of person do you take me for? And I really don’t appreciate you telling me that domming a dude is worse than having sex with someone who isn’t you. There is a reason I don’t go around doing either with just anyone.”

“You clearly get off on being a Dominatrix when you work with your girls, I have noticed a distinct difference in how you fuck me on the nights after your shows.” He cut her off. Fuck, Henry, what were you thinking. Her expression dropped. He rubbed his face, trying to think of anything he could say to fix it.

“Where is this coming from?” She asked, moving away from him on the bed, pulling her shoes back on. “You know what, no. I’m going for a walk so I don’t say something I regret.”

“Just say it!” He snapped, trying to get up to follow her.

“No, you need to calm down first. I will not be yelled at over something this fucking stupid. I haven’t even...”

“Damnit, Elizabeth! I..”

She hissed at him before he could finish his sentence with a level vitriol that he didn’t know she had in her. “I said no! I’m already having a bad day and this is why I didn’t want to talk about it tonight. Now I am going for a walk and you will sit down and think about how you want this conversation to go when I come back. We will talk like adults, you will not insult me again. Do you understand?”

Henry sat down again, completely taken aback, and nodded at her.  “Yes. Of course.”

“Yes, what?” Her eyes were looking glassy. He had accidently flipped her Domme switch, and he knew she didn’t enjoy using it outside of the club, but more importantly, he had know by now that she hated crying in front of anyone, especially him.

“Yes, Elizabeth, we will talk like adults, and I will not insult you again.” He tried to say it as evenly as he could.

“Thank you, now I’m going for a walk to calm down. Because, again, I don’t think either of us wanted this. I’ll be back.”

An hour later, he heard her coming through the front door.  She didn’t have the rage in her eyes like she did when she left which was a huge relief to him.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey,” he waved at her from the kitchen. He came up to her slowly and held her hands in his. They were so cold. “I’m sorry. I overreacted.”

“So did I, I didn’t make it any easier on you.” She squeezed his hands. “I’m sorry.”

“I made dinner, if you’re hungry.” She nodded and he made her a plate of carbonara. She thanked him and they ate their dinner in silence.

“I think I know now what was making me so upset about the idea of you dominating another man. And I promise, I won’t yell this time.” He said after he had cleared their places.

“Oh?”

“I thought about it while you were out and I think I’m just worried that you will find someone who is into it, and you guys will, I don’t know, I’m going to sound like such a bastard saying this. I’m worried that you would leave me for someone who is more into that lifestyle than I am. I’m falling so hard for you, but you have this part of yourself that I’m not allowed into yet.”

“I hadn’t even considered that being part of the problem. When I go back, I will tell management that me performing with a man will not happen.” She reached her hand out to him and he held it. “I’m falling for you too. It’s not that you aren’t allowed to be apart of that side of me, I hadn’t seen any indication that you might want to. Is that something you want to try?”

“I don’t know yet.” Henry replied, running his thumb across the back of her hand. “But what I do know is that I have you for two more days before you head back to town, and I want to take you back to that very comfortable bed, and hold you against me until we fall asleep.”

[taeken-my-heart]

Moirai Chapter 12

Summary: On your 18th birthday a name appears on your wrist. The name of your soulmate. It’s a momentous day that everyone looks forward to, but you’ve always brushed aside; refusing to believe in a fickle mistress called destiny. But what happens when on the morning of your 18th birthday you wake to find the name of your mortal enemy? Jeon Jungkook.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Soulmates au/ Enemies to lovers au. Angst, fluff, bickering, romance, eventual smut.

Word Count: 5651

Chapter notes: Nothing terrible, a little bit of angst, a little bit of fluff. The usual, haha

++++

Work came far too early the next day and you tiredly rubbed your eyes as you made your way towards the nurse’s station where Lizzy was standing, a coffee in her outstretched hand.

"Wow, you weren't lying when you texted you looked like a zombie." She quipped, "Aren't you glad I got you a pick me up?"

"Always an angel." You murmured, pulling the coffee to your lips and sighing into it as you leaned your elbows against the counter.

"So, I saw him." Lizzy replied smoothly.

"Who?" You asked, eyes still firmly shut as you focused on not sleeping where you stood.

"Dr. Jeon, of course." Lizzy sighed, slapping your arm.

"Oh." You said, eyes opening and staring down at your paper cup. Honestly, you'd forgotten about him in the aftermaths of a late night giving physical comfort to Jimin and an early morning at the hands of the sweltering heat.

"Oh?" Lizzy repeated blankly, "Y/N, no physical description does him justice and all you can say is oh? Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," you said softly, "just really tired. Didn't get much sleep last night."

"Oh," Lizzy smirked, "really? What exactly was keeping you up, my dear friend?"

"Take a wild guess." You chuckled and Lizzy squealed like a teenage girl.  "You act like you haven't gotten any in months!" You complained.

"I haven't!" She whined, "I'm living vicariously through you so you have to be generous with me."

"I am not sharing the details of my sex life with you, Lizzy." You smirked and she pouted.

"Well, the least you could do is give me regular updates of the good doctor."

“Lizzy!" You complained, "I've got better things to do, you know. Besides, I have a boyfriend and I don't think he'd like me paying so much attention to another man."

"Again, I am living vicariously through you. My appetite must be filled or I cannot be responsible for my actions." She insisted.

The doors to your right suddenly swung open and you glanced over to find Jungkook walking towards the nurse’s station, already dressed in his scrubs and dark hair pushed back across his head.

You watched as Lizzy practically drooled and you had to stifle your groan. "I was told you had a file for the Gibbons surgery." Jungkook said, coming to stand beside you at the nurse’s station, his gaze trained on Lizzy.

"Oh, yes I do, let me just grab that for you." She squeaked.

You stood silently, staring at the wall and squeezing your coffee just a little too tight and you noticed Jungkook incline his head towards you. "Good morning, doctor."

"Ah, yes, good morning." You replied awkwardly.

"You slept well; I trust?"

"Yes, I slept fine, thank you."

Jungkook nodded silently before the two of you plunged back into silence and Lizzy finally found the file, frowning at you with furrowed eyebrows as she handed him the file. "Here you are, Dr. Jeon."

"Thank you." He replied, flipping it open and waltzing back through the doors he'd come through.

"What the hell was that?" Lizzy asked.

"What was what?" You asked, casually.

"Oh, no, no. You can't act all coy and avoid the elephant in the room. The air was so tense just now, even I could feel it and I'm pretty oblivious. What happened between you and the good doctor? You only met him yesterday!"

You sighed, fiddling with the lid of your drink and shrugging. "Look, it would take too long to explain and right now I honestly am not in the mood for it. I'll explain it to you someday...maybe."

Lizzy pouted and you smiled softly. "Well, I suppose I can't pry it out of you, but just know I will probably die of curiosity."

"That's a shame," you hummed, "I was really growing fond of you." Lizzy's expression turned sour and you laughed, lifting your cup at her and backing away. "I'll see you later."

++++

Today you were spending most of the day in the blissful clutches of labor and delivery. Under normal circumstances you hated the labor and delivery unit. There were moments of reprieve where the mothers were thanking you profusely for the gift of an epidural but usually there was a lot of shouting and screaming, especially if you couldn't make it to their room in the 2.5 seconds after they requested your services.

However, anywhere that was not forcing you into Jungkook's company was a welcome relief and since he was spending the majority of his morning in trauma surgery, you were happy to greet your new favorite ward.

"You've got an epidural in room 12." One of the nurses sighed in lieu of a greeting. "She's been asking for you for the last 30 minutes in between crying and hitting her husband for ‘putting her through this.’"

"Oh goody." You smiled. "I suppose I'll head that way, then."

You were honestly trying to like the maternity unit, you really were. Babies and life were beautiful things and of course you knew that, but the ugly head of debilitating pain always reared its head in the form of screaming mother's to be and that could be overwhelming for even the most practiced of physicians. You were more used to your patients making no noise at all because 9 times out of 10 you were assigned to some sort of surgery that didn't involve neonatal work but there was always that occasion. Today you at least had 2 cesarean sections and that was an area you felt you could thrive in.

Despite your best efforts at keeping a positive attitude, you were absolutely exhausted by the time you slouched into your seat in the cafeteria and Lizzy looked up at you from her yogurt and grinned. "Babies got you down?"

"No!" You insisted, sitting straighter, "in fact, I'm having the time of my life over there. I'm just tired from last night, that's all."

"OK." Lizzy grinned and you rolled your eyes at her.

"So how has your morning been?" You asked, unrolling your sandwich and picking through it for any tomatoes and dropping them on Lizzy's plate.

"I suppose I can't complain. I really only had to draw a couple vials of blood and give one sponge bath. You know I'm jinxing myself right now, though, right?"

"Probably," you admit with a grin, "you'll have to let me know how things go the rest of your shift."

"What about you, Ms. L&D? How's your shift really going?"

You shrugged, swallowing your bite. "It's OK, the usual, you know? There is a sense of freedom, though."

"Really? Normally you say it makes you feel like you've been given a prison sentence."

You laughed, nodding and crumbling the sandwich wrapper in your hands as you gobbled half the sandwich in one bite. At this rate, trying to avoid conversation with your friend was going to cause indigestion. "Yeah, that's normally the case. Today isn't so bad though, I find I suddenly have the stomach for it."

"What changed?"

"The scenery."

"The scenery?" Lizzy asked, eyebrows rising, "I don't get it. Did they get some new potted plants or something?"

You glanced down at your watch before standing and stretching. "Hey, I've gotta go take a quick power nap before I head back to maternity. We can chat later, OK?"

"Fine," Lizzy pouted, "but you've gotta stop avoiding my questions. I'm just going to keep asking."

"I know you will." You grinned, popping the last bite of sandwich into your mouth and walking away with a wave.

++++

The on-call room in your hospital was an unfortunate mix of three sets of bunk beds, one single twin, and a mini fridge on a small wooden table that looked like it was about to give up the ghost. Thankfully no one was in there when you arrived so you dropped down onto the one single mattress (the coveted single twin was prime real estate in the room) and flipped yourself back to bury your head in the pillow. You had an hour until your next scheduled appointment (unless you got paged) and you intended to use the opportunity catching up on the sleep you'd missed last night.

Just as your eyelids were becoming heavy with sleep the door clicked softly as it opened and closed and you pouted, keeping your eyes firmly shut as you grasped at the tendrils of sleep now escaping your vision.

"Sorry." Came the soft baritone and you resisted the urge to shiver. His voice had always been deep but age had served to deepen it further.

"It's fine." You mumbled, refusing to open your eyes to look at him, even as he took the bottom bunk beside you. You could hear the springs squeaking as he shifted a few times and almost smiled. "If you're looking for a comfortable way to lay, you'll be hard pressed to find it. The beds here are all a bit sad, aside from this single mattress that Dr. Watson affectionately named "Bertha"."

"Charming name." Jungkook quipped. "You don't happen to need to leave in the next few minutes, do you?"

You smiled, opening your eyes and glancing at the clock by the door. "I've still got 40 minutes."

"OK," He sighed, "well dibs after you leave."

"Fair enough." You nodded, closing your eyes.

"So," Jungkook murmured after a few minutes and you began to resign yourself to the idea that you probably weren't going to be getting much sleep. "I never knew you had an interest in medicine."

"To be fair, we never really 'knew' each other."

"We did when we were kids." He said softly and you opened your eyes, turning to look at him.

"Yes, we were friends when we were kids but then you got pretty mean for a while. Never did give me a satisfying reason why, either."

He sighed, shrugging. "Because I was a stupid kid. I really don't have a good excuse for my behavior back then. I just hated that we were always forced together by our mom's and I took it out on you, even though it wasn't your fault. I guess it was right around the time that I started making friends with the other boys around and they were kind of mean about girls so I just started reflecting what I was seeing. I am sorry, though."

You chewed on the inside of your lip as you pondered your next words. "Doesn't really explain what happened in high school or, you know, when we got these." You raised your wrist slightly for him to see his name, partially obscured by the green of your scrubs.

"I didn't know what I really wanted back then." He sat up suddenly, leaning forward onto his knees and wringing his hands together. "See, the thing is-"

The chirping of your pager interrupted his next words and you glanced down at the message, frowning. "Someone is begging for an epidural up in L&D." You mumbled. Standing, you shoved your hands through your hair to try and tame it and readjusted the elastic of your pants. "Sorry."

You didn’t give him any time to reply before walking through the door and back out towards the maternity ward. The rest of the day was spent too busy to even breathe and by the time your shift ended you were slumping towards the door that hid your car from view.

“Doctor Y/L/N! Y/N, wait!” You turned to watch as Jungkook came to a halt by your side. “I’m off in 20 minutes, I was hoping we could grab a coffee or something and continue our conversation from this afternoon.”

“I don’t really think it’s such a good idea,” you said softly. “I’ve gotta get home to make dinner for my boyfriend and considering who you are…well, I don’t think Jimin would like that so much.”

“Considering who I am, maybe I could have 5 minutes of your time to just explain myself.”

“We talked about this, Jungkook.” You frowned.

“Y/N, I was 18 years old-”

You could see Lizzy walking down the hallway towards the two of you and the last thing you needed right now was to explain what your history was with the new surgical resident so you shook your head and stepped towards the door.

“I’ve gotta go, Dr. Jeon. Let’s just leave the past in the past, OK? Enjoy the rest of your shift.”

++++

Later that evening after you’d finished eating and the AC repair man had come and gone you looked up at the clock on the mantle, frowning. It was 9 o’clock and Jimin still wasn’t home. Sometimes things did run later with divorce cases and especially with this new couple, but he’d been strangely quiet the last few hours, normally he was sending you at least one eye rolling emoji if things ran overtime but so far…nothing.

You were lying in bed with a book before you heard the sound of his keys in the lock. Shuffling feet and a softly placed brief case met your ears before you finally saw him stepping through the door. “You’re home late.” You murmur softly and he jumped in surprise.

“You scared me.” He chuckles, before stripping down to his boxers and climbing into bed, laying his head against your stomach and sighing. “I’m sorry I’m home so late.”

“Why didn’t you text me?” You questioned, running your fingers through his hair.

“Didn’t really get the opportunity.” You can hear the frown in his voice and in turn you found yourself frowning.

“Normally you manage to find time.” You wish you had better control of the bite in your voice but as it was you were too emotionally exhausted to really try.

Jimin sat up to look at you, leaning against the headboard. “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”

“What was the giveaway?” You mumbled, pulling your book back into your lap and resuming the page you were on last.

Jimin sighed, pushing his hair out of his face. “Baby, I was honestly just really busy today. On top of all of my other cases, I had three new clients today in office and then had to go into court to oversee the completion of one of our divorces and sign a ton of paper work. Then, to top it all off, Mrs. Johnson wanted to meet to discuss some details of the divorce with her husband. He’s trying to shift some funds into another account outside of the country or something, I don’t know. Look, you know I would have messaged you if I could have, I just really didn’t have time.”

“You’ve had busier days than that before and managed to find time, I don’t know why today was so different.” You sniffed, putting your book down and sliding under the covers, turning out your light. “Let’s just talk in the morning, I’m tired.”

“Babe,” Jimin groaned, flipping you onto your back and hovering his face over yours, stroking his thumb down your cheek. “Come on, tomorrow is our anniversary. Please, let’s not fight. I want to enjoy our day off together.”

You sigh, rubbing your eyes and nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry. I’m just really stressed at work these days. “

“Is something going on? Someone bothering you?” He asked gently, peering down at you in the dark.

This was not the time for this conversation. What were you supposed to do, tell your boyfriend that your soulmate had reentered your life? That he was trying to make amends and “talk”? That was a conversation you did not foresee going well so you smiled, shaking your head.

“No, nothing like that. Just medical stuff, you know. I was back in the labor and delivery department today; you know how I feel about that.”

“Will you be there next shift?” He asked, laying his hand across your stomach.

“No, they only need me sometimes. Usually Dr. Gray takes those shifts but she was out of town so I was filling in. I don’t know, work has just been stressful and I know it’s not your fault. I just felt upset that you didn’t call or text or anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t let you know what was going on. I’ll be more mindful of it in the future, I promise.”

“Thank you, baby.” You whispered, reaching up to kiss him softly. “Did you think about anything you wanted to do tomorrow?”

Jimin smiled, wrapping his arm tight around your waist and pouting in thought. “I for sure want to sleep in, then some lazy sex, breakfast in bed, the usual.”

“And who’s making the breakfast, hmm?” You teased and he grinned.

“We’ll order in, how about that?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“I’m gonna go get ready for bed.” He yawned, standing from the bed and stretching his hands above his head, “you gonna be asleep by the time I get back?”

“Most likely.” You grinned.

“Well then, see you in the morning, my love.” He leaned over, kissing soft into your lips and you sighed, linking your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

“Goodnight.” You whispered against his mouth.

++++

You woke to the smell of pancakes, inhaling deeply and rolling to your side, hand flailing out against an empty mattress. Eyes blinking blearily open, you glanced around your room, but Jimin was nowhere to be seen.

You could hear pans banging in the kitchen and you smiled, laying back against your mattress. The cotton of your duvet brushed against bare legs and you stretched your arms above your head. You liked the idea of Jimin making you breakfast in bed, though he wasn’t very quiet about it.

You stood, long shirt drooping to your knees and made your way out into the living room. Jimin stood at the counter top, carefully cracking eggs, but when you entered the room he whined loudly, stomping his foot. “Ah, you’re supposed to still be asleep. I wanted to surprise you.” He pouted.

You smiled, walking over to him and wrapping your arms around his waist. “I was thinking…maybe we could skip the food and go straight to dessert.” You whispered, nipping at his chin and he turned to look down at you, eyes darkening.

“Trust me, you’re gonna wanna eat. You’ll need a lot of energy for what I have in store.”  He replied; husky.

Your stomach churned with electricity, chest crackling in excitement. “I like the sound of that. I don’t wanna wait, though.”

You kissed at his jaw, making your way towards his lips and he melted into you, mouth hot against your own as you opened to him, running a hand across his lower abdomen. “Mmm, food first, you naughty baby.” He replied, slapping you hard on the butt and you yelped, glaring before sulking back to the bedroom.

“I was thinking we could lounge and watch a movie today.” Jimin said, walking back into the bedroom a few minutes later with a tray full of food. You held it for him as he sat down, placing it in the center and grabbing for a piece of toast.

“Did you have a movie in mind?” You asked, turning to look at him.

He shook his head, pushing his fork into one of the sausages on his plate and taking a bite. “No, you can choose.”

“What if I choose something so horrendously sappy that you want to vomit?”

“Then I would still love you,” he said, tilting his head to the side, “but I’d have to go to therapy for all the damage inflicted. On your dime, of course.”

“Of course.” You nodded, grabbing a grape from the fruit bowl on the tray and popping it into your mouth.

“Let’s finish breakfast and then we can watch a movie.”

“What about sex?” You pouted and he smirked, tweaking your nose.

“Who said we need to be in the bedroom for that? We could multitask, you know.”

“I like the sound of that.” You purred, leaning over to give him a kiss.

++++

Later that evening, after making dinner together and laughing late into the night, lounging back into the cushions of the couch. Jimin ran to grab something from the bedroom, promising a big surprise. You watched after him as his figure disappeared into the dark of your bedroom, heart thumping eagerly in your chest.

He returned shortly, a small gift bag in his hand and grinned, sitting down beside you. “I wanted to get you something special. We’ve been together 8 years now, which is incredible, don’t you think? Anyway. This year just feels really special and I wanted to get you something big; something that would remind you how much I love you.”

Your heart raced in your chest; pounding against your ribcage. A small, blue velvet box rested inside the bag and you reached in, breath stilling in your lungs. Jimin watched you eagerly, eyes bright and lips rubbing together in anticipation as you slowly opened the box.

“Oh…” A pair of sapphire earrings blinked up at you from the cushion of their casing. Nothing like the engagement ring you’d been expecting.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked, eyebrows drawing together.

“Nothing. They’re beautiful, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. I…I just assumed…” You trailed off, bottom lip wobbling. All that anticipation built up and still…no ring.

“What did you assume?”

“Are you ever going to propose?” You whispered, and you could already feel the burn of your eyes filling with tears.

Jimin sighed, rubbing at his temples in aggravation and laying back into the couch. “Y/N, I really don’t like when you pressure me.”

“When have ever I pressured you?” You cried, swiping at a tear as it slipped down your cheek. “I’ve never said anything!”

“It’s not with words, baby. You think I haven’t seen the magazines you leave around, wedding rings, wedding dresses, ring sizes? I’m not obtuse, Y/N. I know you want to get married and I know we’ve been together a long time, but I’m just not there yet. Marriage is just a social construct, like soulmates. Just the government and the media trying to get us to do what they want.”

“What?” You gaped, brushing angrily at the tears staining your cheeks, “where is this even coming from? You’ve never told me you thought so poorly of marriage. We both agreed that we don’t like the whole soulmates thing, but marriage? I thought we were on the same page! It’s been 8 years, Jimin!”

“I just don’t know if I’m a marriage type of guy!” He huffed and you glared at him.

“You should have figured that out 8 years ago before dragging me along and wasting my time. I could have been married by now.”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. I didn’t say I don’t want to get married, I said I don’t know if I do.”

“That’s practically the same thing.” You hissed, pulling your arm away from him as he reached out for you. You stood, legs wobbling with emotion.

“Y/N, I love you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and right now if I pushed myself to get married, I feel like it would really ruin a good thing. Please, just give me more time. You’re the only one I could ever actually envision myself marrying.”

“Then why won’t you?” You fussed, crossing your arms over your chest. He ruffled his hair in aggravation, standing and walking towards you carefully, watching your every move as though you might take off running, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his chest.

“I love you. More than anyone in this entire world and I want to share my life with you. I just don’t know if I’m ready for marriage right now. I’m only 31.”

“How much longer are you going to make me wait?” You whispered, “I can’t wait around forever. I want a marriage and children, Jimin. Don’t string me along if you really don’t want that.” You looked up at him, his dark hair hanging down into his eyes.

“Just give me a little more time.” He pleaded, pulling you tighter into him, “please.”

You sighed, heart heavy in your chest. In the end, you couldn’t imagine life without him. He was your best friend and the only man you’d ever really wanted. You were willing to wait a little while longer. “Fine,” you agreed, “but you need to figure this out, Jimin. I can’t wait around forever and I won’t. I deserve more than that.”

“You’re right.” He agreed, “I promise I’ll be thinking about it and I’ll give you an answer. Just give me…just give me a year, one year. Please.”

“OK.” You nodded, “One year. But then you’ll have to make up your mind. Marriage and children may not be important to you, but it’s important to me.”

“I can accept that.” He nodded, leaning down to nudge his nose against yours. You melted against him, lips warm against yours and you inhaled deeply as you pulled away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, pulling from his arms and retrieving the gift he’d gotten you. “I was thinking…I got you a gift too and it’s in the bedroom. Why don’t I wear both your gift and my gift…and nothing else?”

Jimin grinned wolfishly, holding your hair out of your face as you slid the earrings into place. “That sounds like a really good idea.”

You looked up at him and he smiled, running the pad of his thumb against your ear. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, grabbing his hand and leading him into the bedroom.

++++

“So, I was thinking. We should do a welcome dinner for Dr. Jeon. It’s been two weeks now and I’m looking for an excuse to get obnoxiously drunk and not be judged for it. Plus, getting to look at his face for a couple hours is like a cherry on top of that already beautiful cake.” Lizzy spun her straw in her drink, feet kicked up on the seat across the table from her.

You glanced down beside you, the dirty soles of her sketchers greeting you. She smiled at you, cheek dimpled and you took another bite of your mashed potatoes. Somehow, by the grace of the gods, you’d been giving a longer lunch than normal, so you’d indulged in calorie dense cafeteria food to sooth you.

“Your bias is showing.” You said, staring over at her, spoon hanging from your bottom lip and she scoffed.

“I’m not biased! We’ve always had a welcome dinner for new doctors so it’s not like it’s a weird thing to suggest. I wouldn’t even be surprised if one was already being planned by the supe. Come on, where’s your party spirit?”

“Left it at home.” You shrugged, picking at the roll on your plate. It was a little stale, but it was cafeteria food, after all.

“Is this seat taken?” You looked up to find Jungkook standing beside you, peering down at the seat that Lizzy’s feet currently occupied. Lizzy quickly sat up, dropping her feet back down to the ground and smiling wide, waving for him to sit down.

“No, of course not! Sit down doctor. We were actually just talking about you!”

You glared over at her and she smiled pretty, pushing a corkscrew curl out of her face. Jungkook took the seat beside you, the legs of his chair squealing against the linoleum tiles and he looked between the two of you.

“You were talking about me?” He asked, eyes wide, “good things, I hope.” He smiled and you could practically see Lizzy melt.

“Of course.” She giggled, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and you looked at her like she’d sprouted a third head. She cleared her throat, sitting up straighter and leaning forward. “Actually, we were just talking about how we should throw you a welcome dinner. We do it for all the new doctors, or at least the ones we like.”

Jungkook chuckled good-naturedly and you wanted to die. “Ah, yeah, Dr. Ramirez actually mentioned that to me earlier. I think he said the administration is planning one for this Saturday night.”

“Excellent!” Lizzy beamed, “we usually do it in the breakroom since we can’t all take the night off to go out to eat, but we can spare a few minutes to stop by and say hello. Plus, the catering is pretty rad so it’s good for moral.”

You smiled, nodding, “I’m certainly never opposed to free food.”

Jungkook looked over at you, lips quirking at the edges and you looked back down at your food. “Sounds like it’ll be a good time, then.”

Lizzy’s pager beeped and she swore, looking down at it with a sigh. “Duty calls. Anyway, Y/N, I’ll find you later before I leave. I’ve got a dentist appointment so I’m gonna be leaving a little earlier today.”

You nodded, waving her off and she smiled, waving to the two of you before making her way out of the cafeteria and out of sight. You could feel your shoulders, coiled in tension as the sleeve of Jungkook’s scrubs rubbed against yours. He said nothing for a moment, just munching at one of the meatballs from off of his spaghetti and you took another bite of your potatoes.

They were nearly gone and you mourned their loss.

“I like your earrings.” He said suddenly and you looked up at him, fingers going to touch the sapphire studs in your ears.

“Thank you. They’re from Jimin, for our 8 year anniversary.”

“He chose well,” he remarked, looking down at you, “they really suit you. He’s a lucky guy.”

“Thank you.” You murmured, shoving a large bite of stale roll in your mouth to occupy yourself. You still had 10 minutes left in your break and didn’t intend to stand on your feet unless you absolutely had to.

“Lizzy seems nice.” He remarked and you nodded.

“She is; she’s my best friend. You gonna try and date her too?”

Jungkook huffed a laugh, looking down at you. “All I said was she’s nice. I’m just trying to make conversation Y/N. I thought you said you don’t want to talk about the past?”

“I don’t.” You sniffed.

“Well, then what would you like to talk about?”

“Preferably nothing.”

“Come on, Y/N, we’re colleagues, let’s try to get along, hmm?” He chuckled as you shook some hair from your face, taking a sip from your water bottle.

“Fine, you’re right. How’s your residency going?” You turned to look at him and he smiled bright. It made your heart ache but you refused to shrink from it.

“Well, it’s only been a couple weeks, but I’m pretty happy with it so far. The people are really nice, the hospitals facilities are excellent. I didn’t think I’d be getting to work with such state of the art technology so that’s been really exciting. Plus, my parents were thinking about coming to visit this weekend so I’ll get the opportunity to bring them to the hospital and show them around before the welcome dinner.”

“How are your parents?” You smiled, “I haven’t seen them in years. I think the last time was just after I graduated with my bachelor’s degree.”

“They’re great. They’ve been traveling around the world a lot. Making me look like a chump with all their cool adventures. What about your family? How are they?”

“They’re all really good. My parents are mostly just chilling. My dad is still working so my mom joined a Zumba club to keep herself entertained. Ella is actually getting married in about 3 months as well, so that’s really exciting.”

“Yeah, she actually sent my family and me an invite. I’m really happy for her.”

“She sent you an invite?” You asked, eyebrows rising.

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “I know, it seems crazy right? We made amends years ago, though, so all is well.”

“Wait, really?” You asked, turning to face him and he nodded.

“Yeah, she didn’t tell you?” At the shake of your head, he continued, “I was a sophomore in college and one day I just decided to call her and check in, see how she was doing. I wanted to apologize to her for dragging her through so much crap, it was never my intention. I really valued her friendship at a time when I felt like I was going crazy and losing it was pretty painful. We talked it out and she forgave me. I’m really glad she found her soulmate, she deserves to be happy.”

“I can’t believe she didn’t tell me.” You frowned, finishing off the last bite of your food.

“She probably thought she was sparing you, by not talking about…well, about me. Anyway, yeah, she sent me an invite and I’m excited to say hi to her and Michael. Have you met him yet?”

“Yeah, briefly last year, not long after they met.” You said, distracted. Your pager suddenly beeped and you glanced down at it. “Ah, I’ve gotta go, but it was nice talking Jeon.”

“Dr. Y/L/N,” he called as you stood up, grabbing your tray. You paused to look at him. “You’ll be at the dinner, right?”

“I work that night, so I’m sure I’ll sneak in at some point to grab some food.”

“Come say hi?” He asked carefully, “I bet my parents would love to say hi.”

You looked down at him, dark hair swept to the side of his face and looking so handsome you almost couldn’t look away. “Sure,” you quipped with a shrug, “I’ll make sure I say hi.”

“Thanks, Y/N.”

You nodded before spinning around and going to return your tray, making your way back out into the hallway.

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Ahhh. This chapter was so fun to write! The more I write this story, the more I love it. I am so, so excited for the next few chapters to come. Some interesting things are gonna be happening ^^ Also, I have a job interview tomorrow. Wish me luck! <3

Chapter 11

Chapter 13

Copyright © 2018 by taeken-my-heart (Nora.) All rights reserved.