#and asking my dipshit mom she just says ''oh just wear something nice'' as if that narrows it down anyway but I DONT OWN ANYTHING NICE

[wednesdayaddamsmood]

Six Little Nuggets - Steve Harrington Imagine

English is not my native language so I’m sorry for any grammar mistakes. Also this is not beta read and I finished editing this at around two in the morning.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x female reader

Word count:816

Warnings: Mentions of giving birth (not in detail), Jason. Let me know if I missed any.

It was finally somewhat quiet in the RV. Erica was looking out the window; Lucas and Max were talking in the backroom, and Eddie and Dustin were debating about D & D. You could say they were doing it quietly, but that would be a lie. Eddie was getting more and more agitated with Dustin by the minute. With Steve driving and you in the passenger seat, which left Robin and Nancy in the seats behind Steve.

Fire and Rain is playing on the radio; Steve is humming quietly to the music, and you can feel your foot tapping along to the beat. 

"How are you handling her?" you ask. "Well, considering that this is a house, wait did you just call it a she ?" Steve asked with furrowed brows.

"Yeah, you call cars she, you know how people call boats she, it’s the same with cars." You say.

"I’m pretty sure that they only do it to boats." Steve said.

"Well, I’m going to name the RV. Her name is Delilah." You say with a chuckle.

"I’m not calling her that" Steve said looking at me.

"So you admit that it’s a she" You say triumphantly.

"You are annoying." He says with an eyeroll.

"You love me." You say with a small smile.

There was silence for a few minutes before Steve started talking again.

"Ya know it’s silly, but I’ve actually, I’ve always had this dream that I’d have this really, really big family. I’m talking like, a full brood of Harringtons, like five or six kids."

"Six?" You said in disbelief,

"Yeah, six little nuggets, three girls and three boys, and every summer, I figured all of us Harringtons we would pack into something like this and just see the country. Like the Rockies, Grand Canyon, maybe even Yellowstone, end up in some beachside in California. Spend a week parked in the sand, learn to surf or something."

"That sounds nice."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," You nodded, "do I fit in this dream of yours?"

"Of course, there is always a babe of a mom in every road trip family."

You laugh, "oh yeah, is that how you see me, Harrington? Just  some floozy to be your eye candy."

"No, no, no," he chuckled, "I also really need someone to read the maps because you know that I'm hopeless with directions."

"Okay yeah, you really are," You said with a small smile, "but I hate to break it to you, but I don’t know where our kids are going to fit given that the RV is already full."

‘’What do you mean?’’

‘’ We already have six kids, technically seven if you count Erica.’’

‘’ … Babe, the dipshits are not our children. ‘’

‘’Yes, they are; you have practically adopted them since we fought the demo dogs with them, and don’t call them dipshits.’’

‘’ No, I haven't.’’

‘’ Yes, you have. You drive them everywhere no matter how much you complain about it, you babysit Dustin whenever Mrs. Henderson needs a night out, and despite how annoyed you pretend to be when they crash our movie night, you always seem to have extra snacks for them. You care about them, sorta like a mother bear.’’

‘’I'm not like a mother bear.’’

‘’Oh, so you didn’t sacrifice yourself last year to the Russians, so Dustin and Erica could get away.’’

‘’ Well, that was different.‘’

‘’You gave Dustin girl advice and even helped him prepare for the snowball dance. ‘’

‘’He needed my help; you should have seen what he was planning on wearing, and don’t get me started on that damn purring that he did.’’

‘’Steve, there is no shame in admitting that you like them.’’

‘’Okay, fine, they are alright most of the time, except Dustin has got to get some serious attitude adjustment. "You laughed at this and nodded a little. 

‘’But it would be kinda nice,’’ You admitted. 

‘’What would be ?’’ Steve asked

‘’ Your dream; the kids, a house with the white picket fence and a big backyard hell, we could even get a few cats to go with it.’’

‘’Yeah, it would be nice,’’ Steve nodded,‘’ but you’re crazy if you think we’re getting cats instead of dogs.’’

‘’Listen, mister, you’re the one that wants six kids, and that means I’m going to be the one pushing them out of my body, so I’m going to be the one that gets to pick our pet,’’ you say.

‘’Yes, dear,'' Steve said, chuckling.

‘’But we’re going to have to wait a few years until we get married and start trying for a baby,’’ he added ‘’ the twerps have gone to college and have their own lives; we can't have them hanging of us asking for rides when you start to balloon up.’’

‘’Bold of you to assume that Dustin won’t be living in our basement when we move out,'’ you say, laughing.

"Oh yeah, that is not going to happen; our child’s first word is going to be shit, or the kid will be some d&d nerd. It would be disastrous." Steve declared, shaking his head.

“Hey! Dickhead,” we turned around and saw Dustin looking at Steve with an offended look on his face, “ your kid would be lucky if he were anything like me.” 

Before Steve could say anything we could see Warzone coming up ahead, so when Steve parked the car, we jumped out after Eddie hid in the back with Lucas and Dustin.

When we walked in we saw that it was packed, it seemed that everyone near Hawkings were gearing up to hunt Eddie, you knew that it wasen´t going to be easy to go unnoticed.

“So much for avoiding angry Hicks” Robin said.

“Let’s be … fast,” Nancy said “ yeah ?”

“Definetly” Erica answered and you all split up. 

You went with Max and started collecting different kinds of knives and smaller blades, out of the corner of your eye you could see Erica loading ammo into the cart. After a few minutes, Erica came up to us.

“We gotta go now,” she said and behind her you can see one of Jason's minions checking out the axes. You quickly found Robin and Steve an drushed to the till and payed for everything and rushed out. 

We quickly got in the motorhome and sped off. When Warzone finally disappeared from the rearview mirror, we could finally relax a little, and you breathed out a sigh of relief, the atmosphere was tense, and Robin was in the back on the lookout for Jason and his troop. The radio was off, and when you looked over at Steve and could see him deep in thought.

“Hey, Steve ?” He looks at me,” What are you thinking about?” You ask him.

“Oh, nothing,” he says and puts his hand on my thigh. “Just thinking about how much I love you.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up and looked down on your lap to hide it. “I love you too.”

Steve squeezed my thigh in response and looked again out at the road.

 “What do you say when all of this is over, we move out of Hawkins, not too far out, the kids will still need us there, and then after a few years, we tie the knot and get started on those brood of children you want.”

“You really want that ?” He asked with a hopeful look on his face.

“Yeah, I do. I want it all, the white picket fence, the 9-5 job, and a house full of kids.”

“I love you. I hope you know that. We don’t have to wait to get married if that’s what you want,” Steve said. “ We could go up to -”

“Calm down, big guy,” you say, chuckling. “We are not old enough to be married right now.”

“Yeah, Stevie,” Dustin calls from the back, “We don’t need any mini Harringtons running around anytime soon.”

“Thank you, Dustin !” Steve yelled back with an annoyed tone. 

You laughed a little, while Steve rolled his eyes. 

It fell into a comfortable silence and Steve focused again on the road. You turned on the radio and “Everybody wants to rule the world” by Tears for Fears was playing and you let the music play.  For the first time in the last few days, you finally felt content with everything, even though we were going up against Vecna and there was a very good possibility that we weren’t all going to get out of this alive, at least you had Steve by your side and you know that if you had him by your side we could take on anything.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things

[muttever]

i just love how im told on monday that i have to go to a funeral on saturday, giving me *looks at watchless wrist* about no time to... i dont know, find fucking appropriate clothes to wear, for one

#and i only have friday to try and prepare AND the only person with any info i wont see again til friday because fucking work #so i cant ask where its happening or how i should prepare until its too fucking late #and asking my dipshit mom she just says ''oh just wear something nice'' as if that narrows it down anyway but I DONT OWN ANYTHING NICE

[supercorpkid]

Recovery is hard, but not far.

Part 5 of T is for Trauma - The Series

Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader

Word count: 2580.

Warnings: Injuries. Just a small amount of angst now.

Previously on the series – part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4.

It’s been a couple of days since you’ve left the DEO. Kara flew you home, and soon enough all the yellow sun lights were placed around your bed, and you’ve been lying under them ever since. Things are still hard. You still feel very weak and heavy-hearted. You don’t know how to explain the feeling, but you feel that something broke inside you.

Your moms never leave your side. They look as beaten up as you do. Lena looks tired, like she hasn’t slept in weeks. There are bags under her eyes, her hair is a mess, and she’s wearing nothing but jeans and sweaters. It’s distressing. Kara looks wretched. You’ve never seen your momma looking so miserable all your life. And she hasn’t left her sweatpants in days. You don’t think they have worked in weeks, and sometimes you want to ask them about it, but you’re scared that will send them away, and you can’t see yourself being alone right now.

Jamie visits every afternoon. And the only time you feel slightly like a normal person again is when she’s telling you about school, and the people from it. Alex also comes by a lot, but it’s all very medical. She examines you, makes you talk, walk, and checks if you’re recovering. Kelly came by a few times and tried to access how you were feeling, but you couldn’t tell her, because you don’t even know exactly how it is. To the surprise of no one, she pointed out that you need therapy, and you agreed to do it once you’re feeling strong enough.

You don’t talk much. Not because your voice is still not coming out, but because you don’t have much to say. Your powers are still not back, which feels weird. Even though you can’t control them very well, you’re used to having them. So, you’re feeling very empty inside.

“Hey, you’re awake. Did you sleep well?” You hear Kara’s voice as soon as you open your eyes. You agree with your head, so she knows you can hear her. “Do you need to go to the bathroom? Or do you want to eat first?”

“Bathroom.”

Kara picks you up and takes you to the bathroom. You appreciate the help; your leg still hurts a lot when you try to walk. Probably because you don’t have your powers. But it feels weird being carried everywhere, and helped with everything.

“Are you done?” Kara asks from the other side of the door.

“Mhm.” This is almost humiliating, isn’t it? She goes back inside and picks you up again. “Bed, please.”

“But your mom made a huge breakfast for us, all of your favorites are the-”

“Not hungry, momma. But thank you.” You try to smile at her, but it’s not a real smile. You haven’t been able to do that in a while. Kara puts you back in the bed and lays down next to you. “You can go if you want to.”

“Do you want to be alone?” She asks, and you know she’s only worried you might be feeling suffocated with them around you all the time, but your heart starts beating fast with the thought of being alone, and she hears it. “It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m not going anywhere. I’m right here. Hey, hey, baby.” Kara puts her hand on your chest to feel your heart, even though she can hear it. “You’re ok. Mommy is here.”

“I’m sorry.” You try to hold your tears and even your breath.

“Baby, you don’t have to apologize. It’s ok.” She kisses your temple, and wipes the tear that is falling to the side of your face.

“Can you hold me, please?” You’re not even finished with your request and Kara already has her arms wrapped around you, and she pulls you so close you can hear her heartbeat. You like that.

You don’t know how long you two stay like that for. Probably hours. You only let go of Kara when you hear her stomach growling loudly. Jamie walks in right at that moment, and Kara can finally leave you and go eat.

“Hey little Danvers.” Jamie throws herself in your bed and looks at you with a smile. “That looked nice. Does it mean you talked to them?”

“About what?” You ask, confused.

“Well, you know, about the science fair thing.” Jamie props herself up in her elbows to look at you. She knows you haven’t by the look on your face. “Seriously? They’re in here all the time and you haven’t had the single most important conversation possible?”

“That all seems really stupid after you almost die.” You mumble under your breath, but she can hear you either way.

“Yeah, ok. I get it.” She shows her hands trying to admit defeat. “But it’s how you feel. And once you recover, things like that can happen again if you don’t let them know how it affects you.”

“Aunt Kelly said I need therapy… Does she know you say things like that to me?” You try to say it as a joke, but Jamie knows you better than you know yourself, so she’s aware you’re just trying to deflect your feelings.

“Listen, I’ve known you my whole life. You’re funny, smart and powerful.” She sits back on the bed and holds your hand. “There’s no one like you. Really. Aunt Kara is powerful, but she’s not smart like you. Aunt Lena is smart, but she doesn’t have powers. You have both. And to top it all up, you’re a genuinely good person.”

“What do you want? Money?” You raise an eyebrow at her and she breaths deep.

“See, this is what I’m talking about. You can’t even take compliments!” Jamie rolls her eyes. “You literally saved National City from destruction while our parents were frozen in time, and when everyone started applauding, you ran away from it! Why is it so hard for you to accept appreciation?”

“It’s not!” You defend yourself, but you can see her face of disbelief. “Well, you said it yourself, I had to. It was up to me. I had to save everyone.”

“No, you hadn’t! I was just trying to make you overcome your fears. If you didn’t exist, I’m sure Superman or like, the entire Justice League, would've shown up and done something about that.” You furrow your brows thinking about it. “But they didn’t have to, because Superkid was there to save the day. And Superkid was there to save her mom from being killed, and you, dipshit, created a mind reader, just because I went like ‘ok make me a mind reader’. I mean, who does that?”

You don’t answer, you just keep looking at her, waiting for her to get to the point. Which you kind of already know what it is.

“I think, and I’m not a therapist so I might be wrong, but-” Jamie holds your hand again and smiles at you tenderly. “You keep underselling yourself, because you’re afraid your moms are not going to be impressed by anything that you do.”

“I-I am-WHAT?”

“You put them on this pedestal and you look at them like they’re some goddesses who are never wrong, and you feel you can never be wrong so you can be a part of this family. But I have to tell you, little Danvers, they’re not perfect. And you… You have to stop trying to be.”

“Um…” You don’t even have words to what she just told you. Is she right? Did Jamie just read you perfectly?

“Well, anyways, I brought your homework.”

She drops the subject just like that, and takes both of you guys homework from her backpack, so you could do that instead.

“You know what’s not fair? You haven’t been to class in almost a month, and your grades are still better than mine.” She fakes complain and you roll your eyes at her. “Mom said you can go back to school when you want to. You can use a leg cast or something.”

“I don’t have to go to school, I already have better grades than you.” You joke and she sticks her tongue out at you.

Jamie spends the afternoon with you, and when she leaves Lena takes her place next to you, so you’re never alone.

“Did you manage to get any work done today?” You ask when she sits next to you. She pulls you to lay your head on her lap.

“Eh, who cares about that?” Lena says, while stroking your hair. “What I care about is that you didn’t eat enough today. You didn’t have breakfast, you barely touched your sandwich at lunch, and I saw that Jamie had to force you to eat your snack. So, what do you want me to make for you to eat, baby?”

“I’m ok.” You say and you hear a loud sigh in response. “Really, mom, you don’t have to worry.”

“Oh baby, all a mom does is worry.” She smiles and strokes your cheek. “Especially when her little monster stops eating.”

You smile at her, and close your eyes, getting comfortable enough to sleep. But you can’t, because Jamie’s words are in the back of your mind, and god dammit, she was right!

“Is, um, momma on a Supergirl call?” You ask, and your answer is Kara poking her head on your room.

“Nope. Why? Do you miss me already?” Kara says with a playful smile and she sits on your bed too. “Or do you want to talk to us about that thing Jamie was talking to you earlier?”

“Eavesdropping much?” You joke and Kara smiles at you. “It’s nothing. It’s old news.”

“Well, I would still like to talk about it.” Lena says and she helps you sit on your bed so you can look at them. “You were right baby. The reason why what you said hurt us so badly, it’s because you were right. We made a promise, and we should’ve kept it. I don’t want you to think that my job is more important than you. It is not. Nothing is.”

“Yeah.” Kara scootches over and wipes your tears. “CatCo, Supergirl, all of it, it’s just a job. This family is way more important than any of that. You know that, right?”

“I know it. I just don’t feel it sometimes.” You shrug, and you feel Lena kissing your temple, and Kara kissing your forehead at the same time.

“It’s our fault. And we’re going to work very hard to get better at that, ok?” Lena says and you agree with your head.

“But baby, you have to tell us how you feel. You can’t keep saying it doesn’t matter to you, when it’s hurting you so badly. We need to know, so we can do better.” Kara holds your hand and you breathe deep. Guess it’s time to say how you feel.

“It’s just… Everyone in school hates me. When I’m up there, after winning something, there’s no one in the crowd, besides Jamie, looking happy or proud of me.” You’re crying a little, but your moms are crying hard. “I guess I just wanted to see someone looking happy for me.”

There’re a few minutes of loud sobs, desperate noises and your moms repeating ‘we’re so sorry’ over and over again, until any of you can make up a complete sentence again.

“Baby, we’re sorry we never saw things like that. You just kept saying it wasn’t a big deal, and I guess we convinced ourselves of it because it was easier.” Lena is the first one to recover, wiping her tears on Kara’s shirt.

“We don’t want you to feel that you winning something, it's not important, no matter how small you think it is.” Kara squeezes your knee, reassuringly. “Everything you do is important to us. All your inventions make me so proud. I keep wishing that I was smart like you, just to create something out of thin air.”

“And your powers? And you saving me over and over again? You’re just a kid and you saved my life so many times it’s unbelievable.” Lena completes and you give her a little smile.

“We are so proud of you and everything that you accomplish, little one.” Kara cups your face and looks in your eyes. “So proud.”

“It’s nothing compared to what you two do.” You shrug, dismissive.

“Baby, you’re sixteen! You can’t compare a sixteen-year-old life to a forty-six.”

“Or seventy.” You say as a joke and Kara laughs tickling your waist.

“Prankster.” She smiles and, for the first time in a while, you smile too. A real one. “Besides, at sixteen I was in school getting passable grades and not saving a single soul. I didn’t even use my powers at your age! So, you’re better already.”

“I was in college, but I have to tell you, I was inventing way less important things than you’re right now.” Lena adds. “You don’t have to undersell your achievements. Because no matter what it is, we’re always very proud of you.”

It’s the first time you thought about it that way. You always thought that you saving two or three people, defeating one or two bad guys was literally nothing. And compared to your momma’s numbers it is nothing. But she has so many years in this superhero life, and you literally just started. People are just now knowing your name. It was not long ago when you got your first super suit. So, it’s not fair to yourself comparing your achievements to Kara’s.

And the same goes to Lena’s inventions. She obviously made the world a better place with all the things she created, and all the projects she supported with L Corp’s money. You haven’t even had the courage to put any of your inventions to mass production yet, so you can’t compare to them or you will never be satisfied with yourself.

Besides, they might be living pretty impressive lives, but you know they’re not perfect. There were some people Kara weren’t able to save, and there were breakthroughs Lena never had. They are amazing parents, but they’re not perfect, and it doesn’t matter, because you love them either way. And they will love you if you’re not perfect too.

“What’s going on in that big brain of yours?” Kara asks when you don’t talk for a while.

“That I have the best moms in the world.” You smile and they hug you at the same time. “No one can’t be perfect all the time. Not even the big Kara Zor-El or the great Lena Kieran Luthor.” You say, making her chuckle. “But you two come pretty damn close to it.”

“Yeah. No one is perfect, and we shouldn’t try to be.” Kara squeezes your face between her hands. “Being yourself is more than enough.”

“Oh, yes. You are more than we could ever have dreamed of, babygirl.” Lena adds and your heart almost jumps in your chest out of happiness.

“I’m glad you two are feeling like this, because I need a ride to the bathroom.” You look at Kara raising both of your eyebrows at the same time, and she picks you up immediately. “And mom? I think I can eat now.”

“I’ll order everything!” Lena gets up from the bed right away and you smile at them.

Yeah, they’re not perfect, but who needs perfection when they’re this awesome?

#supergirl #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp #kara x lena #supercorp fanfic #supercorpfamily #kara x reader #lena x reader #supercorp daughter #reader insert

[adorethedistance]

City Slicker, Cowboyfriend - Owen Joyner x Reader

JATP masterlist

Warnings: Swearing, nerves, mentions of covid.

Words: 2163

Summary: You’re starting to have doubts about moving all the way to Norman until a shopping trip to Ikea turns into the meet-cute you’ve been waiting for.

A/n: This isn’t a request or one of my Valentines day fics, this is just something that I have had stuck in my head ever since Owen posted this on IG and bc I’m facing total writers block with my other pieces I cranked this one out in a few hours to get the ball rolling again. Hopefully. Enjoy this totally unproofed, fluffy madness!! (Because who doesn’t need more Owen content in their life?)

There are perks to moving and one of them is undoubtedly: shopping. For furniture, home decor, kitchen utensils, whatever! Granted, shopping alone can be tedious and, for some, like pulling teeth, thus, I’ve enlisted the help of my best friends Leila and Chelsea. I didn’t even have to bribe them to come because everyone loves getting lost in Ikea. It’s one of the best things about the human experience.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been in an Ikea,” Leila says to no one in particular as we walk through the onslaught of staged bedrooms.

“What?! Are you telling me you don’t get meatballs and lawn chairs on a weekly basis?” My exaggeration makes Leila laugh as she steps into one of the display kitchens. Looking between me and Chelsea she asks,

“What would you do if I turned the handle then a jet of water sprayed out?”

“Die, I guess.”

The three of us continue through the faux house displays and past the mattresses despite Leila’s urge to jump on every single one. As we walk through the section of different lighting features, I sigh with a frown as I think about college. I changed my bachelor’s to an associate’s so I could graduate in two years. Chelsea’s parents moved out here at the end of our senior year in high school, and she moved with them to study in Norman. Leila in turn went to Arizona for an athletic physical therapy gig, leaving me to face college alone in L.A.. In the two years the three of us were apart, we missed each other more and more, and after determining which of the three states we lived in was cheapest, we packed up and headed East. Covid kind of delayed our plans. But after a few months, I picked Leila up from Arizona and together we chased open job opportunities into Norman, Oklahoma. The three of us found an apartment space to live in together and thus, we ended up in Ikea on this fine Sunday afternoon.

Snapping back into reality I see Leila standing directly under a light that’s hanging very low from the ceiling. Once standing directly underneath it, she pulls down her mask and opens her mouth, rising to her toes to eat the fixture.

“Leila, don’t you dare fellate that light bulb! You’re gonna get us kicked out.”

I swear I’m practically their mom when it comes to behaving in public. Figuring they can’t hurt themselves in the college dorm section, I lead them quickly through it and into the giant furniture warehouse section. On the far wall, I see a large poster of a couple smiling brightly behind Chelsea, but I don’t bother to read the text. Leila and I spot the poster at the same time, and the imagery jogs her memory.

“Chelsea, how’s Hunter? Haven’t heard from him slash about him in like a week,” she asks about Chelsea’s boyfriend of a year.

“Oh, yeah, he tore a ligament in his wrist.”

“What?!”

“Yeah, I guess he moved it wrong or something and put too much stress on the area that it just tore. He was moving hay bales into the horse stables.”

“As opposed to the chicken stables,” Leila judges under her breath, which makes me snicker as a result.

“I still can’t believe you’re dating a literal cowboy,” I interject, “Like, I know we’re in Oklahoma, and he’s from Tennessee, but we saw Texas on the way out here and that’s cowboy country. Norman seems more...” I trail off in search of delicate phrasing.

“Just barely marry your cousin territory, but still downing chewing tobacco whilst driving a lifted truck?” Leila hits the nail squarely on the head.

“Yeah, that sounds about right-” Before I can continue giving my thoughts on Norman, I cut myself off at the sound of laughter behind me.

“Sorry. We weren’t trying to eavesdrop, that was just really funny.” When I turn around, I see a guy roughly our age dressed in all black with bleach-blonde hair, speaking through light, broken laughter.

“No worries,” I dismiss the apology as we pass by one another, and out from the dressers section. The three of us continue into the different sections, and come to a stop once I see we’re exactly where we need to be: dining room shit!

“Cowboy boyfriends aside- oh my gosh: cowboy boyfriends. Cowboyfriends,” I say getting lost in my new terminology. Both of my friends share a mix of laughter and gasps and my ingeniousness. “Anyway. Cowboyfriends aside, how is Avery?” I ask Leila who begins blushing madly.

“She’s really good. We were just making plans for our three year anniversary, which reminds me to tell y’all I’m flying back to Phoenix to surprise her.”

“Awwww,” I nearly tear up and the sweet image of Leila and her girlfriend reuniting, “Y’all are so cute. Both of you and your partners. You know, being the only single friend in this group has made life suck a lot. Y’all are so happy and in love and not dead inside. Honestly? Get fucked both of you.” Despite my harsh words, the three of us break into a lighthearted conglomerate of laughter.

“We’ll find you someone… eventually.” Leila pretends she also can’t hear the last part of her sentence despite being the one saying it.

“I know, but I don’t think it’s in the cards for me to find love in Norman. I don’t need a cowboyfriend, and we’re not gonna find a true city slicker here either.”

When I finish my statement, I see our blonde friend seems to have followed us. I observe he comes to a stop in front of another guy in a flannel with a shopping cart. The way they jump into conversation with one another parallels the animated body language Leila, Chelsey, and I share. I continue to watch their exchange as Chelsea speaks up.

“Maybe you need someone right down the middle.”

“Yeah, like a guy who drives a truck but uses it to transport Ikea furniture instead of a whole ass tree that he’ll carve into a chair.” A small laugh escapes my lips, at both Leila’s statement, and the scene ahead of Blondie pretending to strangle his friend over something. I’m snapped out of my nosy yet endeared stare as a third guy appears. He’s a sandy blonde with billowing locks tucked under a trucker hat. And he came from behind me and my two friends to place something in their cart which keeps his back toward me. When he turns back around, my mind goes blank. Any thoughts of shopping for dining room chairs has left my mind. He is wearing a face mask, but he has such nice eyes that he could have a giraffe snout under the mask for all I care. I see him look up from the shelves, directly into my eyes. We stay locked for a moment before he breaks away and turns to his friends. I slowly turn to my friends too who are both giving me the exact same look of excitement and conspiracy.

“He’s really cute,” I sigh out with a laugh, swooning much louder than I’d have preferred.

“He has a face mask on,” Leila points out, her expression dropping from excited to cynical.

“Still! I can just tell.”

“Girl, what are you doing? Talk to him!” Chelsea whisper-shrieks.

“Shhh, I cannot take you anywhere!”

Glancing back at the handsome stranger, we connect eyes once more and I feel my face heat furiously as I realize he was already looking at me. I’m the first to break; I consult my friends for the best course of action and as I’m turned 180 to face them, Chelsea starts pretending to hyperventilate excitedly. Leila looks over my shoulder for me, discreetly surveying the other trio in the dining chairs aisle.

“Don’t look now, but he’s talking to his friends and looking between them and you.” I can hear in her voice she’s trying her best not to smile despite wearing a face mask.

“Should I give him my number?”

“Yes!”

“What are you waiting for?”

“I’m nervous! What if he’s gay?”

“Will you just get over there? I promise you a gay man would not be wearing what he’s wearing right now. Maybe a lesbian,” Leila adds for good measure.

“You guys are freaking me out, I need you to leave so I know you’re not judging my flirting.” I shoo my best friends out of the aisle as inconspicuous as possible. Kinda wish blondie would’ve done the same because when I turn back around, the other trio hasn’t moved and the only one looking at me is the one in all black. He quickly averts his eyes though and I take one last deep breath before walking over to the stranger. I tilt my chin up ever so slightly to fake a sense of confidence that I unmistakably don’t have right now.

“Hey.” Really, Y/n? Hey??

“Hey,” he greets back breathily. Why is he nervous? I’m the one who gets to be nervous! Man, he’s really cute. I can’t fuck this one up. I’m not doing so stellar right now. Perhaps you should say something else, dipshit?

“Uhm,” I should’ve scripted this. “I just wanted to say that-” You’ve got this. Don’t be a bummer. “I-uh, I think you’re really cute and I was wondering if I could give you my number?” My speech is slow, each word deliberate in spite of the fact that I feel like I’m having an out of body experience right now. I’m not the one in control of the words that are coming out of my mouth.

Upon realizing why I walked over, blondie’s friends take the question as a sign to leave and less than inconspicuously back away from the two of us. Trucker hat spares them one last glance over his left shoulder and judging by the look flannel gives him, they were definitely talking about me in their team huddle.

“Uh, yeah. I was gonna ask for your instagram- if you have one, that is.”

“I’m cool with both.” The two of us reach for our phones and unlock them with anxious hands. I move to hand him my phone with instagram open, and he trades me for his which has a new contact open. I type my name and put my favorite heart emoji next to it after triple checking the number is correct. Wow, you’re just so ballsy today, Y/n!!!!! I give him back the phone, scanning the instagram account he’s just opened and followed for me. I hear him exhale a little harder as a small laugh and can only imagine it’s from the stupid heart emoji.

“Owen,” I say in a hushed, endeared voice, fully not intending to say it out loud. “You have a million followers?! Oh, you’re an actor. OH… You’re an actor.” I really don’t need to be speaking my entire thought process right now in the middle of this Ikea. Exhaling a small laugh of my own, I see we already have a small bunch of mutuals, one of which is… Chelsea??? Looking up from my phone I turn around to see Chelsea and Leila watching the interaction from around the corner of one of the industrial shelves.

In the flurry of scattered likes, I see him find my account and follow me back. I accept the request, nervous of what he thinks of me without a face mask on. What do I think of him without a face mask on? Going back to his account, seeing his entire face is even better than just his eyes. I was right, Leila: he is cute.

“You’re really pretty,” I hear him almost sigh as he combs through the grid of my account. The comment makes my heart beat all the much faster and I finally look upward to get a glimpse of Owen in the flesh. Still as beautiful as the last time I checked!

Sparing a quick glance over my shoulder, he looks back down at me and laughs,

“I think your friends got tired of waiting.”

“I think yours did, too.” The other members of our trios come back into the aisle we had kicked them from more or less two minutes ago. We connect eyes once more and stare longingly, wordlessly at one another, so lost in each other’s beauty our friends have to break up the staring contest of infatuation.

“Y/n?” I hear Leila behind me.

“Uh, well, I have to get back to chair shopping, but- text me later?”

“For sure.”

“For sure,” I mimic his voice.

“Guess I’ll see you later. Y/n.”

“Yeah.” And with that, we’re pulled apart by our respective best friends, through the vast expanse of the Norman Ikea.

“What was that?” Chelsea asks, excitedly linking arms with me.

“I don’t know I- Wait, you have some explaining to do!”

*** 

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#Julie and the phantoms #Julie and the phantoms fanfiction #Julie and the phantoms fanfic #Julie and the phantoms fic #Julie and the phantoms writing #Julie and the phantoms imagine #Julie and the phantoms oneshot #Julie and the phantoms one shot #Julie and the phantoms fluff #Julie and the phantoms smut #Julie and the phantoms angst #Julie and the phantoms x reader #Owen Joyner #Owen Joyner fanfiction #Owen Joyner fanfic #Owen Joyner fic #Owen Joyner writing #Owen Joyner imagine #Owen Joyner one shot #Owen Joyner oneshot #Owen Joyner fluff #Owen Joyner smut #Owen Joyner angst #Owen joyner x reader #Owen Joyner x y/n #Owen Patrick Joyner #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfiction #Owen Patrick Joyner fanfic #Owen Patrick Joyner fic #Owen Patrick Joyner writing

[imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl]

Californian Dream (Pt. 05 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 3 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

×

Rebel

On the next morning, you're still feeling a little anxious, afraid of what he said last night was just to keep you from moving out. But, since you were sleeping on the couch, you woke up just when he was leaving for work, and you were so relieved when he didn't just say ‘good morning’ and left. He asked if you slept well, and said that you can try and sleep a little more on the bed now. It's just a little thing, but it's different from before. And you hope it lasts. You also got the chance to tell him not to bring anything for dinner. He has been spending too much money with that, so you told him you'd cook something yourself.

And that's what you doing now. The chicken breasts are in the oven, almost ready and you focus on finishing the potato salad, adding mayo, a drizzle of olive oil, and seasoning it, mixing everything together. You're happy with what you could come up with, and it did help you pass the time since there's nothing to do here other then watch the news, and that only makes you anxious. After checking the chicken once again, you sit on the table, pinning your hair up on a ponytail, and that's when Billy comes back, your eyes immediately finding him on the door as he closes it shut.

“Hey.” You mumble, running your fingers through the ponytail. For the first time, you notice the uniform he has to use. A nice, black polo shirt with the logo of the company on the left side. On all of those days, you were avoiding looking at him, since he seemed like he didn't want anything to do with you. “You look like such a good boy in this shirt.” You know he doesn't usually wear stuff like that. Billy doesn't know it, but you went through his wardrobe a couple of times, and there is nothing like that that shirt in it.

“That's company policy.” He sounds a little annoyed, and you can tell he doesn't like to wear it. “It smells nice in here. What are you doing?”

“Lemon roasted chicken with potato salad.” You gesture at the oven. “It's almost done.”

“You... Can cook?” Furrowing his eyebrows, Billy comes near the table, giving the oven a look. “Like, actually cook?”

You get what he means. The girls don't usually know how to cook since they'll always have someone to do that for them. “Well, in my house, my parents always choose what we'll have for the meals. So I figured out if I wanted something different, I'd have to cook it myself.” Shrugging your shoulders, you stand up to check the oven again. “So Amelia taught me everything I know.”

“You're a box full of surprises,” Billy mutters, so low it makes you wonder if he wanted you to hear it. “I'll shower. If you wait we can eat together.”

“If it's not in an uncomfortable silence, I'll accept the invitation.” Leaning on the countertop, you give him a look.

“Good.” He stands there for a few seconds before moving away, and you can't help but try to understand why he always does that. It feels like he wants to say something, but he never does.

You patiently wait, and when he comes back, hair still damp, you both serve yourselves and take the usual seats on the table, across from each other. Billy takes a look at his place and squints his eyes, right before staring at you. “(Y/N)?”

“Huh?”

“Where did you get these peas?”

You didn't think he'd notice. “Uhm... There's a nice grocery store just around the corner.” It sounds like a question, but before he can say anything you raise a hand. “I know, I know. But I do look different and I borrowed your sunglasses just to be sure. I didn't speak to anyone... Well, I did chat with this old lady, but that was it.”

“You gotta be careful. I know it's far from your neighborhood, but even so.”

“I was careful, I just... It sucks being in here all day doing absolutely nothing.” You didn't want to rant about it, but it just comes out. “And, inevitably, I will watch the news channel.” Then, you're not hungry anymore... Despite skipping lunch again.

“Did they find anything yet?” Silently, you just shake your head no, deciding to push the food in, even though the heavy sensation on your stomach. “Sorry.”

“Don't apologize, it's not your fault.”

Then the silence hits again, and it goes on for way too long for your taste, a leg bouncing nervously. “It's really good, by the way. Much better than what I can come up with.”

“Thanks,” you mutter with a smile.

“I've been meaning to tell you. I usually go to the gym with some friends a couple of times a week. I've been coming straight back because–”

“No, no. Please, go. I don't want to mess with your routine. More than I already did.” Reassuring him, you feel relieved when he nods. “Oh, you mentioned something about college. What do you study?”

“Marine Biology.”

“That's so cool.” You exclaim, imagining what Billy could work with. California has a lot of opportunities for marine biologists. “I bet it's amazing.”

“It is. What about you?”

“It's not that cool.” Warning him, you can't help but feel bored just to think about it. “Law. At Cali's Elite Academy, obviously.”

“It doesn't sound like you enjoy it very much.”

“I don't.”

“Then why do you do it?” As he speaks, Billy moves to the fridge, muttering something when he opens it. And you know why. “You also bought soda.”

“Yup.” Turning towards him, you take the can he offers you, cracking it open and taking a sip. “You know why I do it. Mom wanted me to, father is a lawyer already, so you get the picture.”

“I hope to be around on the day you decide you had enough of this shit and rebel against everyone who tells you what to do,” Billy says as he goes back to his chair, his eyes focused on you. Sometimes it feels his eyes can see right through you, even the parts you try to hide from yourself. The places you rather keep secret, locked deep inside. He also brings to life things you didn't even know existed. A true need to break free from everything you can't take anymore, everything that has been drowning you, suffocating you.

“Maybe it won't happen.” You burst out, pushing your plate away, still half full. “You said it yourself on the night I came here. I'll probably just slip into anything my mother wants me to do and be as frustrated as she is. With nothing in life but some millions in the bank.” There's a lump in your throat, a cry you're holding back. You don't want to be like your mother. Or like anyone else from her circle. But would you be able to shake this away? You're so used to doing this, avoiding conflicts and being the good, obedient daughter... Could you be more?

“Don't you remember what you said after?” Billy leans forward, elbows on the table, those ocean blue eyes burning through your skin. “That you'd leave California before she forced you into being another stupid girl pushed into a loveless marriage just to add up to the family's fortune.”

“I remember.” Whispering, you look down at your hands, hoping he can't see your teary eyes. “I get brave when I'm sleepy, that's why I say those things but... I'm not sure I'd be brave enough to just leave like that.”

“I came back here a year ago. My father forced me to move to Hawkins, Indiana, a dipshit small town that I hated more than anything.” His words and the weight behind them makes you raise your eyes again, meeting his stare. Billy never told you anything about his past, and you want to hear it. “I have no good memories of that place, and the moment I turned eighteen and got my High School diploma, I got into my car and left.” There's power in him, courage. You know there's more to the story, but you won't push him into sharing it if he doesn't want to. But you can picture it, Billy running away from somewhere he hated, hitting the road and leaving it all behind. You're mesmerized by it, you're not sure why. “And I came back here. I came back home.”

“California never felt like home to me.” That you remember saying. “I... I really wish I had a place where I could feel–”

“Free?” Billy finishes off for you, and you nod. “I don't think California is the problem. I think–”

“Me. I'm the problem.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. You have no idea why you're telling him all this, or how he so skillfully stormed through your walls, but you feel like Billy is the only person who can understand. Who won't think you're stupid or crazy. “I feel so... Lonely and desolated, even when I'm in my bedroom. I feel better when I'm at the beach, all alone than when I'm in the comfort of my bed. I know it's insane, but it just... It's just what it is. Of course I wish I could run away like you, but maybe I can't.”

“It's not from California you have to run away, it's from this person you pretend to be just to please everyone.” Billy stands up, taking both your plates and moving to the sink. But you stay there, motionless, thinking how you could do that.

“Tell me how and I'll do it.”

“Be the girl you were at the party.” He says, and you decide to stand up as well to help him with the dishes... But also because you want to be near him as if he's the only one who could help you do this. What exactly, you don't know. But Billy was brave enough to do something you wish you could. “The girl who doesn't care if her company is just the pool guy, who doesn't care if she almost hits a waiter, and doesn't mind having to suck some chocolate off her thumb.” Billy glances at you, and you start taking the dishes and drying them with a dishcloth. “The girl who ran from a very important beneficial gala and was very happy about it.”

“Yeah, but if you weren't there, I would never do that.”

“I might have given you a little push, but you made the decision.”

You'd never take Billy for the guy who would say these things. By what people told you about his behavior, you'd never think he'd be this... Kind. “Are you always this nice with girls?” Trying to light up the mood after the emotional conversation, you ask him, chuckling.

“No, I'm not.” He passes you the last fork, and you dry it and put it on the drawer. “Definitely not.”

“I get it.” Lying the dishcloth down, you shrug your shoulders. “Guess some girls like the bad boy.”

Billy giggles, taking the dishcloth to dry his hands. “What about you? Good boy or bad boy?”

“A guy like you would be nice.” Wait. What? It takes a couple of seconds for you to process what you just said, and what it means. “Uhm... I'll... I'll organize some of my stuff.” You quickly manage to say, turning your back at him and leaving the kitchen.

When you reach the bedroom, you shut the door behind your back, wondering what the hell just happened to you. It's completely out of question to start liking Billy. You're literally living with him for who knows how long, it would complicate things to such a high level that you would really have to move out. You're already too lucky he doesn't bring girls here, but out there... Suddenly, the names Gisele gave you start flashing through your mind, and you groan, throwing yourself on the bed.

“Don't be stupid.” You mutter, pulling the sheets over your head and expecting a calm, dreamless night.

• • •

Before, you were anxious. Worried. Now, you're just angry. Another week has passed, and nobody knows anything. A bunch of people were abducted, in huge black vans, and nobody knows where they went. It's plain stupid by now. You're already up when Billy opens the bedroom door to shower and change for the day, and you move to the living room, putting on the news channel again and letting yourself fall on the couch. The boredom won't help either. Besides going to the grocery store, you're locked in here, doing absolutely nothing other than housework.

You're by the window when Billy comes out, already in the company uniform. Turning around with your arms crossed, you stare at him. “We gotta talk because I'm losing my mind.”

“Does it has to be now? Because if I don't leave in five minutes I'll be late.”

Then, the best idea you ever had in days comes to your mind. “Take me with you.”

“What?” He bursts out, eyebrows furrowed.

“Take me with you. Where are you going today?”

“William's. The mansion by the cliff.”

“They don't know me very much, my parents hate them. Please, take me with you. I can't stand being in here all day.” Walking over him, you grab his hand. “C'mon, Billy. I can help with something.”

“I don't think it's a good idea.” He looks down at you, a thoughtful expression on his face. “If anyone recognizes you it could be dangerous. Everyone thinks you were taken too.”

“See? Nobody will hope to see me hanging around.”

“(Y/N)...”

“I swear to God if you don't take me I'll head to the beach and stay there until sunset.” It wasn't a plan, but now it is. Stepping back, with both your hands on your hips, you wait for Billy's reaction.

“Is it a threat?”

“I don't make threats, only promises.” Shrugging your shoulders, you cross your arms. “So?”

“You have three minutes to change out of these sweatpants.” He's still speaking when you're moving, quickly taking your pj's off and putting the first thing you find. Short jeans and a black T-shirt that's a little bit similar to Billy's. Not so much, but it's the best you can do.

When you're back in the living room, dramatically putting Billy's sunglasses on, you rush through the door when he opens it, more than eager to spend the day somewhere other than in the apartment.

And, as if on purpose, Billy takes one of the most beautiful roads of California. At least in your opinion. On your side, you can see the ocean, and since the waves here are more violent, the beach is empty, except for some surfers. Billy has the windows open, and the wind messes with your hair. But you like it. Closing your eyes, you stretch your arm out, feeling the wind brushing in between your fingers. Maybe it's the speed, or the daylight, or the fact that you're finally outside after weeks of confinement. Maybe it's the company... But this feels good. Almost overwhelming. There's a smile on your face that doesn't look like it's leaving anytime soon, and for the first time in... Since you can remember, you have no worries. You allowed the wind to carry them all away.

“I forgot how beautiful this place is.” You tell Billy, holding your hair out of your face so you can look at him.

“Beautiful.” He says, his eyes on you instead of on the ocean outside the window. You squint your eyes, just about to ask what he's looking at when he clears his throat, eyes on the road again. “But we're almost there. Look.”

Some miles away you see the William's house. Huge, way bigger than yours, built by the cliff, which gives them an amazing view of the ocean.

A few minutes later, you're being guided inside by one of their employees. There's nobody home, and by what the old man said, they'll only be back by nightfall, when you and Billy will be far away. So there's no danger. You're taken to the pool, and Billy starts moving around.

“What do I do?” You ask, taking a look at the enormous pool. It's so big it has an isle in the middle. The last time you came here, you were a kid, and you didn't remember it to be so big.

“I'll start with emptying the pool skimmer.” He looks around and then points at the skimmer net. “Think you can get rid of those leaves floating?”

“Yup.” Moving to get the skimmer, you start with your task.

As you move around the pool, catching the leaves and placing them on a plastic canvas Billy lied on the deck, you notice him giving you a few glances. But you only know that because you're also staring every now and then, as he comes and goes from the supply closet. Soon enough, you get so nervous about it that you can't help but giggle as you walk to the plastic canvas, dropping some more brown leaves on it. Since he's coming your way, you wait there, using the pole to sustain some of your weight, your free hand on your hip.

“Getting tired, princess?” Billy mutters in a mocking tone, and you roll your eyes. “Still half of the pool to clean.”

There's that pet name again, and at the very mention of it, you feel something on your stomach, like tickles. “I'm alright so far.” You mumble, hoping you're not blushing. As soon as he walks by, you resume your task.

The truth is that you're very tired already, and the skimmer is heavy. And the wind starts blowing the leaves all around, which makes you walk around the pool too many times. It's past 1 pm when Billy is over, and you decide not to get the four leaves left in the water.

“Let's go.” He says, and you get up from the wooden bench you've been seated for the last five minutes after he locked the supply closet, following him.

“I'm starving.” You mumble, letting your hair down from the ponytail as you get into the car again. “Where do you usually have lunch?”

“In a restaurant associated with the company. Which means employees don't pay.” He glances at you. “And I guess you didn't bring any money, so...”

“I would have if you told me that.” Pulling the door close, you take a deep breath. “Just buy me an ice cream and I'll be fine.”

“Absolutely not.”

“I'm fine. You did the hard work.” You buckle up when he speeds away, once again hitting the road. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath when you feel the fresh wind on your face. “What are you doing next?”

“Got a fancy car to fix.”

“Uhm...” Opening your eyes again, you look at Billy's side, taking in the beach. It's completely empty now. But your eyes wander to Billy. In this perfect light, he looks amazing. Breathtaking. His grip on the wheel is loose, and he has a hand out the window, looking carefree. Billy loves this place, you can see it on his eyes, on his posture. He's home. “Do you think we have a few minutes to spare?”

“What for?”

“I just wanted to take a walk on the beach. But it's ok if you can't.” Looking away, you focus on the road ahead. But Billy is slowing down, pulling over to the side of the road. Biting your lip, you wait for him to stop before stepping out of the car. You're already crossing the road when you notice Billy is still in the car. So you stop, turning to look at him from the middle of the road. “Hey! Aren't you coming?”

“It sounded like you wanted some alone time.”

“I had plenty of alone time in the apartment.” Rolling your eyes, you gesture for him to come. “Let's go.” Reaching out your hand, you smile when he leaves the car, patiently waiting for him. You were just about to put your hand away when he takes it, rushing you to move since there was a car coming that you didn't see. It makes you giggle a little, your other hand coming to hold on to his forearm. “Seriously, you have to stop saving my life.”

“Then stop putting your life in danger.” It takes a little too long for him to let go of your hand, your fingers brushing against each other.

“I'll try.” When you get to the edge of the road, you don't see any steps leading to the sand. Only a rock that someone placed here to offer some help, but it's still a little too high for you. “Isn't it a buzz killer?”

“I'll help you.” Billy easily jumps to the sand, not even using the rock. “Come.”

“If I fall, I swear to God...” Sitting on the edge, you try calculating if you could just jump to the ground.

“You won't fall. C'mon.” Billy comes to stand right in front of you, both his arms raised to catch your fall.

Taking a deep breath, you push yourself forward, closing your eyes on the process, so you only feel when you collide with Billy. His hands are quick to hold your waist, sustaining your weight, and not allowing you to reach the ground. The sudden change makes you open your eyes, and you immediately take in how close you stand. His face is only three inches apart, and as he pulls you down, you hold tightly on his biceps. Billy's eyes are locked on yours, and even after you're safe on the ground, he doesn't move. His hands remain on your waist, his face still close enough to kiss, if only you were brave enough to stand on your toes. Your stomach feels funny, and your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest.

But a car passing by snaps you out of it, and you both move at the same time, stepping back.

“Sorry.” You mutter, clearing your throat. “But thanks for not letting me fall.”

“I told you I wouldn't.”

×

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things #stranger things x you #stranger things fanfiction

[ricksroaches]

Jimin - Dysphoria ch. 2

pairing: Yoongi x Reader, OT7 x Reader (platonic)

summary: Jimin gets in trouble defending Y/N. Later that night things get deep.

notes: Y/N is based of an OC so if a few traits don't match yours I'm sorry T.T. To clear things up, this chapter takes place like a year before the actual storyline. Present day, Y/N and Jimin are juniors.

word count: 4.5k

warnings: cursing, mental illness, drugs (weed, LSD), smut (fingering, spanking, v penetration), mentions of sexual assault

Prev chapter Next chapter

Jimin lost his virginity when he was 14.

Too fast? Ight let’s take it back a little.

Jimin was the perfect kid. Obedient, polite, compassionate, the ultimate parent dream package. He was born to please everyone. To give everyone joy, even if that joy was his own. But it wasn’t enough when it came to his parents. Their marriage was rocky even before he was in the picture. They divorced, and his dad moved out when he was 8, leaving his mom to raise him and his older sister by herself. He got a good lawyer and ended up getting out of custody, but his mom managed to get decent child support out of it. If one thing is true about this world it’s that a man with deep pockets can get whatever he wants.

Jimin wouldn’t see his dad for another four years, but life went on as it does; he continued to excel in dance, make good grades, make everyone happy. That was, until Seunghyun came into the picture.

He seemed okay at first. His mom had met him through a friend, and it didn’t take long for them to start dating. He was nice enough, handsome enough, wealthy enough. Jimin remembered the day he met him for the first time.

“Hey, Jimin right?”

“Yes sir.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you. Your mom talks about you a lot.”

“…thank you?”

He laughed. “How old are you?”

“11.”

There was a pause. He simply nodded a few times before clapping him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid. Keep that up.”

Seunghyun began coming over more and more frequently, most times even staying the night. Jimin had grown to like him quite a bit. He always brought something for him like a candy bar or a pair of Ray Bans he didn’t wear anymore. He often took him out to get ice cream and other spur of the moment treats.

Jimin's sister, Roseanne, was also a dancer. In fact, she was the reason he started. She was the whole world in his eyes and the most beautiful dancer he’d ever seen. Her dancing was the kind that sucked the air out of the room. No one dared breathe as everyone’s eyes followed her fluid movements. You simply couldn’t take your eyes off her in fear of missing a detail. It didn’t matter what you were doing. If Rose was dancing, you were watching.

Rose had a dance tournament in L.A., a solid 6 hour drive from their home in San Francisco. Mom was too busy with work to take her, so Seunghyun offered which she gratefully accepted. Jimin wasn’t worried at all, he knew she’d beat everyone there, which was why it surprised him to see her come home with a broken spirit. When he asked her what happened she simply said, “I didn’t make it.” He consoled her while she wept throughout the next two nights.

It wasn’t until the boys’ trip Seunghyun planned as an extra birthday gift that he would understand Rose’s tears. He’d just turned 12.

Jimin separated his life into two books. One of his life before that trip. The other, his life since. He often kept himself up at night wishing he hadn’t gone, and that he would never become the person he is now.

What happened on the trip, however, it didn’t stop. In fact, it happened more and more often, and it wasn’t just him, it was Rose too. The night Jimin heard Seunghyun slip into his sister's room next door, he made a decision.

He started taking the brunt of Seunghyun’s doings to keep him away from Rose. He could tell she was wilting. Her dance had become lethargic and she rarely competed anymore. Jimin wouldn’t have that. If he had one purpose in this world, it was to make Roseanne happy.

The promiscuity began in 7th grade with his first kiss at the back to school dance with Megan Shelby, one of the most popular girls in school. Their brief relationship rocketed him to the top of the dating hierarchy. By the end of the semester, he’d had 3 girlfriends and 4 boyfriends. Oh yeah, he knew he swung that way for a while now.

By 8th grade, things became more sexual. He just needed more. That rush that he got feeling someone else’s lips on his, getting to touch their body any way he liked, being touched himself, it was addictive. In those moments, he could forget about everything and enjoy himself for once.

His first nude was leaked by a boy who pretended to be gay for a month so Jimin would send to him. He didn’t have much shame when it came to sending nudes. He never asked for any, he was a gentleman. But if asked, if the guy was cute enough, he would.

Jacob. God that boy. Jimin was head over heels for that boy. Whatever he wanted, Jimin did. His first time giving head was pretty scary. He gagged a lot and could barely fit half of him, but it was the hardest he’d ever been in his life.

It didn’t take long for Jacob to want more than blowjobs. It was a spur of the moment thing, really. It was the summer before freshman year, Jacob had gotten them invited to a high school party, and Jimin’s mom had just broken up with Seunghyun (for reasons unrelated to this story). That was also the first night Jimin had ever gotten drunk. This was his night to secretly celebrate his freedom from the burden he lived with for three years. He took to the stuff rather quickly and before long Jacob was carrying him slurring up the stairs to a bedroom for him to rest.

Jimin playfully initiated a make out session that got pretty hot and heavy thanks to the alcohol. It was then that Jacob pulled back and popped the question. Jimin thought about it for a good 4 seconds before smashing his lips back onto his beloved boyfriend’s.

A new chapter in the Book of Jimin was written that night.

Jacob ended up cheating on him to which Jimin proceeded to rack up the highest body count in the school. It’s ancient history.

Despite his vigorous sexual awakening, Jimin remained the same angel in every adult’s eyes. It was hard to live with the memories of Seunghyun that plagued him almost every waking moment. He was finding it more and more difficult to come up with excuses for his breakdowns that sent him home from school. He couldn’t tell his mom. It would break her heart. So he dealt with it on his own, hiding all of his pain and fear behind a polite smile.

~~~

SOPHOMORE YEAR - OCTOBER

“All I’m saying is, dying of old age is like dying from not dying.”

Jimin swung his locker closed revealing the unzipped hoodie clad Y/N leaning against the locker beside him. “It took you ten minutes just to say that?”

“If you won’t appreciate my philosophical ideas then I will take them elsewhere.” He eyed her down.

“Y/N, you probably can’t even stand up straight right now.”

“And why might you say that?”

“Because it’s the last day before fall break I know you're high as tits right now.” She let out a slurred chuckle. She leaned her temple against the red metal and gazed at him with a dopey smile spread across her face. “Yeah, uh huh. Didn’t even share with me, bitchass. Now let’s go.”

“Yessir.” She stuffed her hand in her shorts pockets in search of her keys when a rough slap to her ass made her stiff as a board.

“Nice ass, L/N. You should wear those more often.” She could barely recognize the voice as Will Jacobs before he was on the floor with Jimin on top of absolutely wailing on him. He paused his assault briefly.

“You never touch her! You hear me?!”

Will glanced at her before zoning back in on Jimin. “Her? Tell her not to wear something like that and not expect feedbac-” he was cut off by Jimin's fist connecting to his nose with a delicious crunch. He didn’t stop, though. He kept punching and punching and punching. By now, a crowd had formed shouting and chanting for either boy. Y/N didn’t do anything to stop it. She stood there, keys dangling from her finger, in stoned awe. Although the sober side of her would’ve enjoyed to see it happen nonetheless. She was also too stoned to warn him about the principle marching towards the pair.

“JIMIN PARK!” His fist stopped midair, fully reared back to strike. The circle scattered like rats upon their fighters’ capture. He was yanked up by the back of his shirt and Will was hauled to his feet by two security guards, a shit eating grin on his blood smeared face. Jimin turned to Y/N, who’s mouth was still hanging open, while being dragged to the office.

“Just go without me. This is gonna be a while.” To which she dumbly nodded and made her way out of the building baked and confused.

~~~

The sun had set and Y/N still had no word from Jimin. She assumed his mom took his phone as punishment or something so she went about her business, albeit a little bummed.

She had just settled on her bed with her bong nestled in her lap when a soft knock at her window made her jump. She whirled around to see Jimin crouched outside her window. She unlatched it and shoved it up with a half annoyed huff half sigh of relief. “What the hell are you doing?” He ignored her query and slipped through the window and rolled onto her floor.

“I told my mom I’m at Tae’s. I just wanted to see you after earlier.” With a nod of approval, she turned around to inspect her bong for any damage.

“I live alone dipshit you could’ve used the door.”

“Oh, right. I keep forgetting that.”

Yes. Y/N lives alone. We’ll unpack that later.

“So what happened?” She settled back in her spot but set the hot pink crystal contraption on her nightstand. Jimin crawled onto her bed and collapsed into the soft blankets. The smell of weed mingled with the lavender fabric softener to create a devastating blend that could knock anyone out for hours.

“Most of it was just them saying how disappointed they were and how I tainted my ‘flawless’ record. They didn’t even address the reason I gave them for doing it.” His lips twitched into a hateful scowl briefly. “They’re suspending me for three days.”

“But it’s fall break.”

“Exactly, that’s why I’m suspended the first three days we get back. Jokes on them, I just got my break extended.”

“What about Will?”

“He was in the nurse’s office the whole time.” She casually lifted her fist and he bumped it.

“That’s my guy.”

There was a comfortable silence while the two relived the moment in their heads. She was thinking about how stupid she probably looked watching the ordeal. He wished he’d done more damage.

“Hey, Jimmy boy?”

“Yes, bitch?”

“You wanna get high?”

Y/N had just gotten a new sheet and wanted to try it out. They placed the tabs on each other’s tongues and watched the little mushroom design dissolve. An hour later they were sitting across from each other staring at the other giggling incoherently.

She studied every one of his features like it was the first time she’d seen him all over again. His peach hair was parted down the middle, bangs brushing his temples. His clean, solid eyebrows were in perfect contrast to his sun kissed skin. His eyes formed tiny crescents when he smiled only adding to his adorable look. His smile…….his smile. Perfect, pink, pillowy lips she could only describe as belonging to an angel. Glowing white teeth that radiated beauty every time he opened his mouth. His face slowly began to look like an oil painting on canvas the longer she stared at him. Her smile grew ever wider as she traced the brush strokes along his jaw and the delicate shading of his toned neck.

Jimin gazed at Y/N’s face with pure adoration. All of his love for her magnetized by the dopamine dump in his brain, and he hoped she saw herself the way he did. Her wild curls wiggled in place like a cute version of Medusa’s snakes. Very fun to look at when there’s a whole mane of it. Her freckles sparkled like dots of purple and blue glitter and the moonlight that hit the apple of her cheek shimmered and twinkled like it was coated in diamond dust. A barely audible giggle slipped from her parted lips. It made him giggle too. “What?”

“I’m just so happy…” her spacey smile said it all. He could see in her eyes that she truly meant it. He watched as the color changed from blue, to green, to hazel, to grey. The colors mixed and faded slowly and if you didn’t focus you wouldn’t catch it. He counted each individual fleck of gold in the center of her irises and they glowed like fireflies on a summer night.

“…Jimin..?”

He snapped out of his daze to see that her eyes were wider than they were before. He also realized that she was laying on the bed, and he was on top of her. He was frozen. When did that even happen? He stared back at her with equal shock but neither moved away. Her eyes didn’t show any signs of fear or discomfort. She was just surprised.

Every thought he ever had about her was rammed to the front of his mind and he had the crushing need to show her how special she truly was to him. Without further ado, he smashed his lips down onto hers. She let out the tiniest squeak before quickly returning the favor. She carded her fingers through his hair and pulled him father down to deepen the kiss. His chest was now pressed against hers and the grip on his hair tightened. Few breaths were taken between kisses while she pushed his jacket down his arms and let it drop to the floor.

Jimin took it upon himself to slip his hands under the hem of her shirt and pull it over her head. He slid his palms up and down and stomach and waist, completely lost in the distorted sense of touch that hypnotized him. He was reminded of his task by a soft tug on the hem of his own shirt which he hastily peeled off before diving back into another kiss. He took his course to her jaw and then found purchase on her neck, sucking and biting until wine colored marks dotted her entire neck and collarbone. He made quick work of her plain black bra and tossed it behind him to an unknown corner of the room. He got to work making his marks anywhere and everywhere he could reach. The sharp rise of her chest when she gasped only spurred him on.

His hands snaked down her naked torso and yanked her sleep shorts out from under her before slipping his fingers under the waistband of her undies. Simple black Calvin Klein cheeky cut. Modest, yet tasteful. Her thighs jerked when he found her clit and started rubbing smooth circles, drawing out a silent cry from her behind his lips. He made sure she was good and wet before sinking two fingers past her lips, earning another heavy gasp that made her chest heave against his. He broke the kiss and leaned back much to her disappointment. He pumped his fingers in and out, finding every little nook and cranny to massage. He pressed his palm into the space between her belly button and her entrance and curled his fingers in a ‘come here’ motion, eliciting a satisfying cry from her. He burned the sight of her back arching off the bed at his handiwork into his memory permanently.

He curled and pumped his fingers faster and faster until her walls clenched around his digits and her body shuddered and twitched from the force of the climax he’d brought her. She collapsed against the bed a heaving mess and he gazed down at her with a devilish smile. Demon Jimin had come out to play.

In a flash, he was out of his jeans and back on top in only his boxers. His muscular thighs and arms caged her underneath him as he raked his eyes over her figure before landing on her last remaining article of clothing. Before she knew it, she’d been flipped onto her stomach. His hands glided up her thighs and kneaded the flesh of her ass. With a rough tug, she heard the sound of fabric tearing and cold air hit her core sending a shudder down her spine.

A single, dazzling smack stung her right cheek before the pain was kneaded away. He pressed his body into hers and spoke low in her ear, “You feel that? Only I’m allowed to do that. No one else.”

She could feel the familiar hardness grinding against her ass sending another shiver through her body. He chuckled darkly. “You like that, don’t you?” She nodded, her face pressed into her pillow. He dug his fingers into her hips and abruptly yanked them into the air. Her yelp was muffled by the pillow but he definitely heard it. His boxers were discarded and he lined himself up at her entrance. He teased his tip against her folds watching them flinch with every touch. He sunk his full length into her evoking a high pitched cry from her and a low groan that ripped through his chest.

He wasted no time setting a rhythmic pace that had them both a moaning mess. They could feel every single square inch in 4K and their brains could barely keep up. He was so lost in the feeling he didn’t realize he’d sped up significantly and she was gripping the pillow to muffle her pleasured cries. “Why are you hiding those beautiful noises?” He wrapped his hand around her neck and hoisted her upright on her knees. “I want to hear everything that I do to you. Don’t you dare hold back, because if you go quiet I’ll only fuck you harder.”

He sacrificed speed for force in the new position. More sounds of pleasure spilled from her lips with each snap of his hips. His arm snaked between her breasts to grip her neck and pull her to his chest while he fucked into her with devastating force. The harder he rammed her cervix the louder the cries he squeezed out of her. He increased his speed once again leaving her a rag doll in his arms.

With another flip, she was on her back again and he was back inside her before her vision steadied. He hooked her thighs over his own to get a better angle which sent her curling off the mattress once again. Her head was thrown back and her eyes were squeezed shut to concentrate on the feeling. He gripped both cheeks in one hand and pulled her face down. “Look at me.” Her eyes fluttered open and she tried to find his face among the stars that jumbled her vision. He lined her face up with his, “I want to see those pretty eyes when I make you cum around my dick.” She breathlessly nodded and tried to maintain his scalding gaze while her body was getting shoved into the mattress with every thrust. The headboard cracked against the wall, accompanying her escalating cries when his thumb moved to circle her clit again.

“..-m I’m-”

“Go ahead. Do it.”

Her walls instantly clenched around him eliciting a jagged groan and his daze darkened. He pounded into her while her climax had her screaming loud enough for him to break. He finished after a burst of inhumanly fast strokes, burying his shaft as deep as he could to shoot his load and riding it out with a few hard snaps of his hips. His eyes never left the sea of her irises.

He leaned back and sat on his heels. The only sound in the room was their ragged breaths. He let his head fall back to relish in the aftermath of his ministrations. She watched the beads of sweat trickle between his abs with each swell of his chest. She never thought she’d find herself in this compromising position with someone like Jimin. Yeah, they made out a few times when they were bored but that couldn’t hold a candle to what just went down.

Jimin slid out and rolled over to lay next to her.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“What are you?”

After a shower that quickly turned into round two, they were dressed and tucked in bed. Her head rested on his chest while she fiddled with the collar of the oversized (on her) grey shirt she’d given him. His arm was wrapped around her waist and his fingers traced her ribs under her shirt in slow, meditative strokes. The old Jimin was back.

“Jimin?”

“Yeah?”

“Why’d you freak so hard with Will? You’ve never gotten in a fight at school, ever.” Her head bobbed with the heavy sigh that escaped him. She lifted her head to look at him. He stared up at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. His pink lips curved in a slight grimace.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

“No. I had to tell someone eventually. It might as well be now with someone I trust.” She couldn’t help the rush of confidence at his comment. That good feeling died quickly when she processed what he said. “My mom used to date this guy, Seunghyun.” He had to pause to adjust to saying his name. “He was nice. I liked him. A lot.” She watched his eyes dart around the ceiling trying to remember details of the memory. “They’d been dating for about a year. He was gonna take me on a boys trip to his lake house for my birthday. My sister….She tried to convince me not to go and…and I didn’t know why.” His voice trembled with the last words. “The first night he made me sleep in the same bed as him…The second night…” He looked up to blink the tears out of his eyes. She reached up and wiped them for him with her thumb. “The second night, we were getting ready for bed, and he asked me if…if I knew what sex was. I said yes thinking he was trying to give me the talk. He asked me…..if I ever touched myself…I didn’t know what to say so I said no.” His voice caught in his throat, his words coming out at a higher pitch. “He-” His lips pulled back in a quivering frown and his chest beat with one single, silent sob.

“It’s alright, it’s alright, take your time.”

“He came up behind me…and he stuc-….he stuck his hand…down my underwear.” His free hand flew to cover his squeezed shut eyes, gripping his forehead. “He kept asking be if I liked how it felt…I said I-I didn’t know so he kept going.” It tore her apart to see him struggling to speak the way he was. Tears of her own started to stream down her cheeks. “I worked up the courage to tell him to stop and he did. I tried to sleep on the couch in the other room but I woke up in his bed the next day. I don’t know if he…did anything, but the third night I was standing on the dock connected to the house. It was too dark for the neighbors to see anything. He came up to me again. He asked how I liked the night before again and I was too afraid to say anything so I didn’t. He did it again, but this time he pulled his out and…tried to get me to…t-touch it. I didn’t so he took my hand in his and…,” he took a deep breath “and he…u-used it to-”

“You don’t have to say it.”

He nodded

“I never finished…he did. I don’t remember the last day but I remember on the ride home, he said that if I told my mom….it would break her heart. And I didn’t want to break her heart-”

His sobs came out in soft, rapid beats but she was quick to pull him into her chest to soak her t-shirt. He buried his face in the crook of her neck and squeezed both arms around her torso while his cries shook the pair in silence. She didn’t say anything, simply wrapping her arms around his neck and planting kisses on his ears and shoulders.

“That wasn’t the only time, was it.” He weakly shook his head into her neck. “You don’t have to talk about it. You already did so great. You’re safe.” She continued to stroke his hair while his shaking began to plateau.

“You’re safe.”

~~~

The next morning was peaceful. Jimin woke up not feeling like shit like he’d expected. He actually felt….good. Given the bomb he dropped last night. But, she didn’t treat him any differently than she did the day before, and he was grateful.

She cooked for him while he showered, and they hung out having their regular old conversations like nothing happened. Although he noticed something. She was sober. It was nearing 6:00pm and he hadn’t seen or smelled weed since he barged in on her session. She stayed sober….for him. He didn’t like to admit it, but he enjoyed sober Y/N better. Granted, he still loved her any other day of the week, but he loved seeing her natural personality when she wasn’t in a dark place at the moment. And she didn’t seem to be now. Sober Y/N was smart. Sober Y/N gave great advice, and before she dropped him off at home, she left him with some.

Jimin typed in the code on the door and the lock clicked with a mechanical whir. Making sure not to make much noise, he shut the door behind him. He made his way upstairs and down the hall. Framed photos of him and Rose dotted the walls, and as time went by, their smiles were more and more forced. No one could tell but them. He eventually stopped in front of the door he was looking for. He softly knocked and he heard a muffled ‘come in.’ He opened the door to his mom’s room where she was sitting in bed, reading glasses on her nose, looking over the blueprints she’d drawn. She was an architect.

“Mom?”

“Yes?”

“Can I talk to you about something?”

Cover photos by @BIGHITTED on Twitter

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts angst #jimin #jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts smut

[tomdiddlyumptious]

T.H/H.O| Old Apartments

Summary: two new comers come, good and bad intentions at first, a triangle at last.

Warnings: drinking? Not proof read, a love triangle? Which is possibly gonna be terrible with the way I right

Chapters? I don’t know but I know this is a small skit

“Look mate-“ “this is where like the stoners live haz! I’m not staying here!” “Well piss off! I’m about to go have some fun” haz shrugged, taking his stuff out of the uhaul and going inside the rather old, crusty apartment.

“I’m boreeddddd!” Tom (Tom Felton/draco, but he is like is real age now so) yelled on the empty large space. “Well you won’t be! We are having some new mates!” You smiled, taking the ice cream out the freezer and grabbing a spoon. “Yeah why don’t you go hang out in the pool or something” Evan stated (Evan peters/ Tate Langdon). “I’m pretty sure Aja threw up in there” “wait when!” You ask, looking at him and sitting in the tall chair.

“Last week! Oh I forgot you have a boring job” “shut the fuck up draco” he only makes a face at you but somebody catches all of your eyes. You all turned your heads finding someone you don’t know heavy panting.

“That’s a bit much to carry all the way up the stairs if you ask me” Evan said, coming up to help the fellow guy out. “T-thank you” the stranger smiles, Evan only chuckling and telling the stranger to follow him.

“Yikes” your eyebrows cock and you dig with the spoon for more ice cream. “I hope he doesn’t make the house boring like you do” “go do some crack or something, it’ll make you happy” you shrug suggesting. “I’ll check into that actually” he nods. “Alright addict we need your help!” Evan yells from inside the room, out of breath. “That’s my que” Tom says, standing up and making his way to the strangers room. “I guess I could help to” you mutter, putting your ice cream down and grabbing your slippers and going the the elavator.

You looked around at the street and the parking lot, finding a wide open uhaul, you walk over and grab something, which was heavy. “Hey you twat! Stop stealing” you hear someone say, hearing footsteps you place to mattress down and look at him confused. “I’m actually helping someone, so your the idiot mate” you smile at the unknown person. “O-oh” he stutters “can I help you then?” “I think I’m fine, im not too idiotic” ooo that was some extreme shade, good job y/n. The stranger looked taken back a bit, cursing at himself for being so dumb. “I’m sorry” he let out, “I don’t accept sorry, sorry” you glare at him, taking in his looks.

Doughy brown eyes, skinny beat lean, slight chubby arms, teeth a bit crooked, no lips, a mopped, reddish brown hair color that dropped across his head. You rolled your eyes, picking up the mattress again and the stranger watching you as you struggle back inside, sighing you noticed how weak you actually are.

“What’s your name?” You asked the blonde with blue eyes. “Harrison” he smiled at you, lifting his hand you looked at it and thought ‘yes’ “yes what?” Harrison asked. “Oh she just has a extreme hand kink” Evan grinned. “Shut up!” You yell, grabbing a quarter in your pocket and throwing it at him, hitting him in his forehead. “Well uhm, do you still want a hand shake?” Harrison chuckled, you smiled taking his hand in yours, making eye contact with him. “Is this romance I see?” Tom dramatically gasped, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “So this is loveeeee, mhm mhmmm” Evan sung, flipping the quarter. “Would you asshole shut up!” You embarrassingly cover your eyes, Harrison laughing. “So this is what it’s like?” “Yep, were a family here, it’s nice to meet you Harrison, just keep your hands in your pockets at all times” “y/n let’s go make dinner” Tom said, you nodded following him out.

Thomas stood outside, debating if he go there or not. “Fuck it” he murmured, picking up as much stuff as he could and making his way up.

“Wine!” You smiled, grabbing it from the cabinet. “Perfect!” Tom smiled, the nice pasta in the pretty bowl. “Hi” there was a small sound, you looked over and seen stranger. “Hey idiot, might not wanna put to much stress on yourself” you say, setting down the wine and helping him with his stuff. “Thank you” he whispers, you only smile and pull him to his room with Harrison. “I’m guessing this what do you call it, twat? Is your friend?” ‘Your right” he nodded, his side of the room already set up. “I’m not a twat, I’m protective” he groaned as you both put the stuff in place, “eh your a twat” you chuckle as he rolls his eyes.

“Dinners done!” Tom yelled, grabbing plates and setting them up in the livingroom while the flavor of love played. “Let’s go” you smiled, they both smiled back and followed you out. “Aja your here? Since when?” Evan asked, plopping himself on the couch wearing his grey sweats and white shirt. “I’ve been here all day, I’m sick remember?” “Ewww” you, Evan, and Tom shouted. When Aja gets sick she gets sick terribly, “so who’s taking care of her? Because it’s not i” “not i” “not I” “did you forget I’m here dipshits?” “Oh no we are very fond of you” Tom said making everyone laugh. “Fine I will do it, Aja I’ll make you something” you said, while everyone else sat on the couch, and of course stranger had to be the odd one out, sitting in your seat. “Might not wanna sit there” Tom whispered. “Why are you whispering?” “Y/n will attack you, verbally, and you won’t like it” “he’s being very serious, don’t sit in that seat” “alright” he shrugged, standing up and sitting next to haz and Aja. You slapped some saltine crackers on a plate and room temperature sprite in a champagne class. Everyone made their plates, Evan making yours “what is this show?” Haz said, “flavor of love? Ya know-“ Evan got cut off by Tom “flavor flaveee” you laughed and came back over, giving the soup, crakers, and sprite to her. “It’s spicy” you tell her, she nodded and you sat down in your seat, Evan giving you your plate and you thanked him, the wine you poured yourself.

About a season in Aja turned off the TV, everyone groaning and looking at her. “What? I think we have to get to know each other” she shrugged. “Right, okay” Evan shrugged, you took all the plates and put them in the sink, rinsing them off and washing your hands, you sat back down and joined everyone.

“Well whos more interesting?” “Y/n” everyone said at the same time, except for stranger and haz. “I’m not that intresting, I’ll go last” “well we are all actors, or at least used to be, except y/n, we all just huddled together and said hey let’s have a shitty apartment and make it our home” “yeah pretty much, what’s your name stranger?” Aja said, looking at stranger “Tom” “no my name is Tom, what’s your name?” Tom said, “it’s Tom- well thomas but” “we are calling you Thomas then” “you sound like my mom-“ “well what would you like to be called sweet cheeks?” “Uh- Stanley?”

“Well welcome home Stanley, my names Evan, Evan peters, I’ve been active since like 2008, I’m pretty basic, I met y/n before anyone else, I like the color black, Taco Bell, and uhm, I don’t know what else?” “My name is Tom, I played draco in Harry Potter as you should already know, I like titanic, grey olive, red, the simpsons, and etc” “I’m Aja, I play in how to get away with murder, uh favorite color?” She coughs, your face scrunched “blue, I like anything really I guess” she shrugs.

You sigh as it was your turn, everyone looking at you, “uh, my name is y/n, my road to fame was a book I made-“ “best book ever” “shut up and let me speak, unlike everyone here I’m bi, I like dark green I guess, I like music a little to much, I love being alone, I paint sometimes, I have weird stages in my life and fazes and I guess yeah” you shrug. “She left out to much detail, she’s really fun and can bright up any room, she’s like the soul to this old ragged place, we wouldn’t do anything without her, she makes us clothes, she feeds us, spends money on us, talks to us, she’s our family in so many pieces, sooner or later you’ll find out for yourself” Evan smiled at you. “You do to much Evan” you rolled your eyes.

Stanley just looked at you, haz smiled and looked at you, both thinking “beautiful”.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x black!reader #harrison osterfeild x reader #Harrison osterfield x black!reader #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfeild imagine

[starkerforlife6969]

Single Dad Baker Peter x Lawyer Tony

There was a misconception about divorce lawyers when Tony was at law school.

His classmates at Harvard sneered at him whenever he took it as an elect, semester after semester. They thought that the money was in corporate, that the prestige was in finance, that the fame was in criminal.

Family law, they sniffed, was for silly little things.

Tony hadn’t given them any credit then, and he doesn’t give them any credit now.

Ask anyone. He’s the most renowned divorce lawyer in the country. He’s one of the wealthiest men in the state. He’s on more retainers than plastic on teenager’s teeth. Rich heiresses and paranoid old men, wealthy immigrants and not-so-idealistic trust-fund students know better than to enter into the law-binding contract that is marriage without Tony Stark ready and waiting in the wings to come and save them some day from utter devastation.

Sure, Tony doesn’t believe in love, how can he? With everything he’s seen? But he does believe in loss. He’s seen wholesome people lose their homes, seen kids torn apart by separation, seen ruthless, vindictive jerks - men and women- tear their partner to shreds for reign over the holiday home. For custody. For triumph.

Tony wears his tailored suits, and lives in his penthouse apartment looking over the city, he drinks expensive coffee and he sleeps on a thousand-thread cotton sheets, but he knows that the only thing a partner is good for, is one night.

Repeats? No thank you. But here’s his card. One day, when you make the mistake of falling in love (a temporary state) and divorce arrives (inevitable. Horrible) he’ll show up on his steed (a Bentley) and his sword and shield (a fountain pen and a stack of papers) and he’ll win.

Oh he’s saved tech-tycoons 50% of their business. They’ve repaid him with a few percent here and there, stakes and shares in stocks and bonds, and he has more money than he knows what to do with.

You’d have to be out of your mind to think he’d ever kiss someone on the lips and put a diamond on their finger, just to see them take half of it away in a few meagre years.

No thank you.

* Tony comes back to New York after a month long holiday in India (what do you mean he networked and picked up a few new clients? Royalty looks ever so good on the old resumé, not that he’s needed one to get a job for a long, long time), there’s a new bakery around the corner from his penthouse.

He squints at it, trying to decide whether or not he’ll venture in tomorrow morning.

It’s called The Parker Place. It’s painted a sweet lavender, and there’s a chalkboard sign outside that says: We serve hot drinks too! with a smiley face and a heart. It’s nice and neat and-

“That’s been there for the better part of a year, dipshit. Nice tan.”

Oh. Maybe he should spend a little more time exploring his city. Tony turns with a smile. “Nat. You’re looking well.”

She is, but then again, she always does. Her hair’s pinned up today, and her pencil skirt and blazer are some sort of silky material that he wants to reach out and touch. But her stilettos are weapons, and he still has a bruise on his calf from when tried something. “I’m sure.” She rolls her eyes, “taking on your workload for a month didn’t have any impact on me at all. Not like I have my own case load.”

He hums around his smile, and nods at the bakery. “Any good? They serve coffee?”

“Pretty good,” she says noncommittally. “Though, I rate according to convenience and this is a little out of my way…”

“Why are you here? Not that I don’t appreciate the welcome party.”

She doesn’t give anything away- she has a brilliant poker face, like everyone in this game- but he’s known her for too long now. Over pizza and late nights studying for finals and Mock Trials with hang overs- “Rumlow called. Wants to hire you.”

Tony blinks in surprise. “I’m Kate’s retainer, she hired me years ago.”

“Rumlow’s offering triple. Fury wants you to switch.”

Tony scoffs at that. “I’m Kate’s. Besides, I can’t drop her without-“

“Fury can get you cause, Tony. Kate’s been taking Class B-“

“She has to,” Tony snaps, “married to that thing. Fury’s not my boss, Nat.”

The red-head looks bemused. “Technically-“

“I’m not dropping Kate. I want to put Rumlow in the ground. it’s about time they get divorced, he’s a fuckin’-“

“I know.” Nat cuts him off, softer. She shakes her head a little. “You’re a real softie, you know that?”

He bristles a little in offence. “I’m a shark.”

“Every other time you follow the money, but when you see a good person you go all warm-hearted and soft.”

Tony flips her the bird and heads into the lobby. He can feel the weight of her stare on the back of his neck and decides to be especially vicious when it comes to destroying Rumlow. He wants blood. He’s a shark, not a softie.

*

The sight that greets him when he steps into The Parker Place on Monday morning is so fucking cute he nearly melts on the spot.

And then he catches himself, and he scowls and puts on his air of casual, charming, charismatic. His default setting.

Besides, it’s not that cute. It’s just a very handsome man with fucking fluffy Disney curls and big eyes at the counter, covered in flour, with a young girl- just as covered- with the same brown hair and adorable laugh, and they’re mixing a bowl of what smells like heaven.

It’s not cute. Not even when the man reaches over to smear chocolate on the little girl’s nose and she tries in vain to lick it off.

Not cute at all.

Instead, he busies himself with looking around the place. It’s nice. Airy and inviting. There are shelves of cupcake decorations and cake stands on one side, freshly made loaves of bread on the other. Behind fancy glass cases are doughnuts bursting with cream and an assortment of toffee pastries.

It smells phenomenal. There are sheets of freshly rolled dough on baking sheets ready to be slotted into the many ovens behind the counter. For now, though, the ovens billow out the delicious scent of vanilla and sugar.

There’s muffins, croissants and cake all lit up in display perches, chocolate sprinkles, vanilla sponges and sugar dusted cream-filled puffs. The small, silver bell above the door gives way to the sound and scent of happiness, sugar, and home-spun food.

Tony doesn’t even know where to look.

He’s the only person in the shop this early, and he glances up at the chalkboard propped against the wall and reads the drinks options in handwritten cursive.

Caley Coffee! Tina Tea! Hannah Hot chocolate!

Tony’s not so sure those are brands.

“Oh! God! I’m so sorry!” Comes an effusive voice, and Tony is suddenly wondering whether it’s the little girl responsible for all those exclamation marks.

Still, he can’t help but smile through his shark facade when the beautiful young man wipes his hands against the front of his blue apron and hops up behind the counter. Is he here all alone? No way he’s able to manage this workload. “It’s fine,” he nods, feeling a little off his game. He wants to be suave. Wants to wink and do a little flirting, because this gorgeous slip of a thing would be divine for a night-

But the man’s daughter is still avidly mixing the huge purple bowl dotted with flowers, and Tony doesn’t feel right flirting in front of a kid. Not to mention, the man’s probably taken. There’s no wedding ring, but the man’s covered in four. He probably removed it.

Not that marriage is a huge obstacle, anyway. They always crumble.

But Tony’s not about to violate one. “I’ll have a-uh- a Caley Coffee.” He says as he steps up to the counter.

His breath catches for a second. The man, up close, is even more attractive than Tony first realised. He’s not attractive, he’s beautiful. It’s a sort of beauty Tony’s never seen before, outside of twilight era, Hollywood movies. Fading starlets, a type of beauty he thought might have died out a long time ago, along with the black-and-white pictures his mom used to watch.

His eyes are honey, and his lips: strawberry. There’s a sprinkling of freckles across his nose, and his skin is like smooth cream.

He’s positively edible.

“Oh yeah,” the man blushes- fuck. That blush. Tony watches it hungrily. “Sorry about that, Hannah names all the drinks because she says everyone deserves a name.”

Tony can’t help but crack a smile. “Sounds like a smart girl.”

Hannah looks up from her bowl and beams. “I am a smart girl!”

“You’re just smart,” the man chuckles, effortlessly making the coffee without even having to look as he adds milk and sugar and creamer- all things Tony hasn’t asked for, but he’s not about to stop the man now. “Girl or not, you know that, baby.”

“Yeah, I know,” she nods, “I’m smart!”

Tony could watch them all day.

“So, are you new around here?” The man asks, handing Tony his coffee and ringing it up. It’s cheaper than Tony thought, so he pulls out a few extra bills to put into the tip jar.

Tania the tip jar, according to the label.

“No, no, I’ve been away. I live just around the corner.”

“Must do something fancy,” the man teases, taking the money. “Suit like that.”

Tony tries not to preen. “Lawyer.”

“Oh god, Hannah-Montana,” the man whispers, aghast, and the brunette’s head snaps up immediately, already giggling at her father’s antics. “An actual shark has walked in here and you didn’t warn me!”

“A shark!” She squeals, looking at Tony with enormous honey eyes, “you’re a lawyer! Lawyers are sharks in snappy suits, and they snap snap snap and give law suits!”

Tony’s cheeks ache a little, from how hard he’s smiling.

“You’d be amazed at the sorts of things they have in story books now,” the man teases apologetically. “I hope you have a good day, Sir!”

He can’t help it. It slips out. “Tony.”

The man goes that lovely pink again and nods shyly. “Peter Parker.”

* There are a few reasons Tony can’t get The Parker Place out of his head.

For one, that coffee was goddamn fantastic. Sweet and high quality roast, an exotic, but homey flavour- he’s craving more.

Second, Peter Parker.

Maybe even Hannah, a little.

He never thought being a shark could make a kid laugh, but hey…he hadn’t hated it.

It’s only the first in a series of blows today, but Rumlow buckles like a baby calf. Kate stares at Tony; tears of hope and gratitude in her eyes, and Tony ignores Natasha’s knowing look from the back of the court room, and wraps the woman up in a hug.

Divorce cases rarely see the inside of a courtroom when Tony’s working them. It’s normally huge meeting rooms in sleek offices, with glass tables and leather seats and gorgeous views.

It’s elegant, and sometimes there are vases full of honeysuckle on the table and it doesn’t look like a place where people sign their love away.

Tony knows better, of course.

* When he goes into The Parker Place on Tuesday morning, it’s to get some coffee. Definitely not to try and find out whether or not Peter’s attached.

When he steps inside, however, Peter and Hannah aren’t there. Instead is a friendly looking guy in a Hawaiian shirt with a huge grin. “How can I help you today, Sir?” He beams, and Tony wonders whether this bakery has some sort of magic power. Everyone here is obscenely happy.

There are a few other customers milling about, considering the different cakes in the case, and he orders his coffee, trying not to feel the sense of longing that permeates deep into his core.

The coffee’s still excellent though.

* Stane isn’t a great lawyer, but he gets under Tony’s skin. Rumlow did a smart thing hiring him.

As he heads home on Tuesday evening, a light drizzle hanging over New York, he’s surprised to see the lights in The Parker Place shining brightly; a radiant gold in the otherwise murky, lightless street.

He’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

Inside, everything’s spick and span. The counters gleaming and wiped down, and Tony can see Peter fiddling with something on a baking tray.

Tony opens the door. The bell dings, and Peter looks up.

“Tony,” Peter sighs happily, “I hoped we’d make a repeat customer out of you! But it’s always hard to tell, you know? There are so many places just like this in New York.”

“Your coffee was amazing.” Tony manages, and it’s not as subtle as he’d have liked, but it makes Peter blush again.

“Thank you, please- um- sit, I’ll be with you in a second, I’m just trying to finish these scones before tomorrow.”

Tony sits on the pale blue wooden chair and feels all the stress of the day leave him. He watches as Peter squirts gooey filling into each puffed shell; watching as they fatten up happily, and he tries for the love of god, not to get an erection. He clears his throat, “so where’s Hannah?”

“In bed, thank goodness,” Peter laughs, and Tony takes him in- there’s a few dark circles under his eyes, his hair’s a little frizzy and his sleeves are starting to come down. It’s the end of a long day. He gestures to the ceiling, “and I’ll be able to hear if she gets out of bed. Thin floors.”

Tony glances up in surprise. “I didn’t realise you lived- above.”

“It’s a nice little apartment,” Peter nods, dusting the scones with flour or sugar. “It was a big risk moving here- I had to sell the house, but…” he nods, a content smile on his face. “It was the right thing to do. We’re- we’re doing okay.”

Tony wants so much he aches. “Hannah’s mom…”

“Oh no, it’s-“ Peter huffs out a small, sad laugh, “it’s complicated.”

Tony wants to brush the sadness away. Wants to feel Peter’s cheek under his palm. “I’m a smart guy,” he offers.

“Well my- my parents died when I was really young, I don’t even- remember them, but my Aunt took me in. She raised me, and then a few years ago, she…she fell in love. They had Hannah, but-“ Peter turns, sliding the tray into the fridge and hiding his face. “They passed away, and- now Hannah’s mine.”

The sense of loss hangs heavy in the air, and when Peter turns around- he’s smiling again, like everything’s okay.

“We’re happy,” Peter whispers, “it was- hard, but we’re…” he gestures to the shop and the pastries and the smiley faces drawn on the chalkboard. “She’s my little girl, and we’re gonna be okay.”

Screw one night, Tony thinks, speechless. What about the rest of our lives?

* “Well what are you doing, little miss?” Tony grins, sitting opposite Hannah as she scrunches her face up over homework.

She looks up at him, eager for the distraction. “Daddy said if I finished all my homework, I could have a peanut butter cupcake.” She pouts, looking down at her work. “But this is hard. Mr Lo made it look easy, but it’s not.”

Tony clucks sympathetically, before looking over her little work sheet. He shakes his head fondly. “You are damn smart, sweetheart. Every single one you’ve answered is right.”

She perks up at that, looking down at her work with surprise and renewed enthusiasm. “Really?”

“Ya huh.”

She races through the last few, and bar one silly mistake, finishes it all. She scampers off into the kitchen, and returns triumphant, with a peanut butter cupcake in one hand, and a mini pancake in the other.

Tony takes the pancake eagerly and they both chew in contented silence for a moments. “You always such a nerd?” He asks conversationally, and she giggles.

“Daddy says we’re equals pequels.”

Tony hums thoughtfully around his delicious mouthful. “How’s that?”

Hannah licks all the icing off her cupcake. “It means- if I don’t do homework, daddy can put me on the naughty step. And if daddy says a bad word, I can put him on the naughty step. We’re a demo-cacy. And and, if daddy knows more, I should listen to him as much as I can, like with boring stuff like-“ she looks a little sulky, “playing with fire, but if I know more- daddy tries to listen to me! Like, on how pirates speak, or or what flavours taste best in a cheesecake!”

Tony chuckles. “That’s quite a modern take on parenting. I approve.”

He looks up when the last rush of customers leaves, and finally Peter’s free. He’s covered in edible glitter and a light sheen of sweat, and there are a few diced rose petals still on his fingertips as he comes over and ruffles Hannah’s hair. “Hannah-Banana, eating that peanut butter cupcake, I can only assume…?”

“All finished, daddy-doughnut!” She chirps, and Peter kisses her with sticky lips.

Then he looks at Tony, a little shyer, a little braver. “I’m closing up soon, Tony, maybe…you could come up? For tea? And danishes?”

* “I’ve put on at least five pounds since meeting you.” Tony grumbles, squinting at himself in the mirror, even as he takes a huge bite of one of Peter’s raspberry cream danishes. The flavour bursts across his tongue, and Peter laughs, coming around with a tray of tea.

“You’re as dashing as ever, Tony, and I think you know it.” He teases, as the two of them sit down.

Tony watches Peter take a long, deep sip, the smell of jasmine tea in the air, and he wants.

“I don’t…” Tony croaks, when Peter meets his eyes, and everything is there; exposed, between them. “Love is…”

“Very real,” Peter promises, gesturing to Hannah’s bedroom.

Tony sighs. “That’s a different kind of love, Peter. That loves never goes away. Romantic love…it fades. Always.”

“Okay,” Peter murmurs, his honey eyes sad, “I wouldn’t know anyway, right? I’ve never had it.”

“Me neither,” Tony whispers.

*

On a sunny Saturday morning, Tony pinches his nose and looks through the annulment contract, Peter’s slicing peaches, and Hannah’s playing with a complex looking forest set.

“Have some eclairs, Tony,” Peter urges sweetly, setting down a heaped tray. “You worry too much, you’ll win like you do every other time.”

“I don’t know,” Tony sighs, reaching for the chocolate coated deliciousness. “Both of them are vicious- they’re tearing each other apart.”

Peter brings over another plate- this time, topped with gooey, chocolate chip cookies. Hannah comes racing over to grab three. “I’m sure it’s nothing that can’t be solved with a bit of sugar and some maple syrup.”

Tony feels reluctantly fond. “Peter, property division is a little more refined than that.”

But of course, as he chews, he wonders.

* Susan and David pause when they walk into the meeting room in the sleek office building among the New York sky rises.

Tony grins winningly. “I hope you don’t mind,” he says as he beckons them in, “it was a colleague’s birthday and there were left over cookies.”

“It’s not- a problem.” Susan chokes, as the two of them enter the room. She sits down stiffly, eyes on the heaped stack. The room smells of melted chocolate. “We actually-“ she gestures to David awkwardly, “we met in a cooking class.”

David nods, looking anywhere but Susan. “First week was desserts.”

Susan stares at her nails. “I burnt mine so badly, but David, he…”

“Swapped ‘em. She was so worried the teacher wouldn’t like her, like we were kids.” His laugh is wet.

The two people in this room are human. The ones who were in here last week, fighting for custody over the house and the dog and the garden shed tools- those were animals. Tony gestures for them to sit, and as soon as they do, David bursts into tears.

“Have the fucking house,” he whispers, so quiet Tony almost doesn’t hear it.

Susan wipes her black, mascara-coloured tears. “He’s your dog.”

*

“Daddy told you,” Hannah laughs, decorating her cupcake with blueberries. Tony hoists her into his arms and tickles her till she cries mercy.

Peter comes out of the kitchen, covered in custard and bread crumbs, and Tony crosses the bakery floor-

And kisses him.

* Peter’s skin tastes like sugar- it never fades, but Tony’s always had a bit of a sweet tooth.

They fit together, slot in a way Tony never expected.

He loves Hannah fiercely, is overwhelmingly protective, and understands his work a little better now. Love is strong, but it’s balanced on life and circumstance, which is weak and flimsy. Sometimes love falls and cracks.

“I love you,” Tony whispers, as he and Peter snuggle in bed. They’re in Tony’s apartment- they’ve just christened his kitchen- baking wise, and Hannah is fast asleep in one of the guest rooms.

Tony’s childproofed the shit out of this place. He can feel Peter’s smile curve along his shoulder, “love you too,” he says, muffled.

But Tony means it more than that.

So, the next day he comes in, and hands Peter the annulment.

Peter looks down at his hands- covered in clumps of dough- “as romantic as legal documents are, handsome, I’m-“

“I’ve signed it already.” Tony breathes, “if we ever divorced- you’d get half my money- I’d be entitled to nothing. I wouldn’t take anything from you. It’s all yours.”

Peter blinks. “Tony, we haven’t even-“

“We will,” Tony blurts, feeling unhinged and desperate, “I’ll end up baking you some disgusting cupcake, but you’ll eat it because you’re too lovely to decline, and then you’ll find the ring I put into it, and we’ll get married and then life will fuck us, Petey, and then we’ll divorce and-“

“Oh Tony, Tony,” Peter cries, rushing around the counter to gather the older man into his arms. He gets raw dough all over Tony, but Tony doesn’t care. Just leans into Peter’s embrace as the younger man peppers his face with kisses. “You’re such a romantic skeptic, I can’t deal with you. I love you, and I will love that proposal, you glorious man.”

Tony gazes down at him, tears in his eyes, “but what happens when-“

“When life tries to fuck us?” Peter whispers, twining their fingers together, and he smiles. “We’ll fuck it right back. I promise.”

From anyone else, Tony wouldn’t believe it.

Right here, he does.

* “Bet you never thought you’d see the day, huh?” Tony mutters, adjusting his bowtie.

Hannah’s in a frilly white dress, tossing rose petals into the air.

“Actually,” Nat grins, fixing his bowtie for him, “I saw it coming a mile away.”

* He loses his fear somewhere along the way.

Between school runs and tantrums, between the highs and lows of Peter’s business as customers come and go. He loses his fear somewhere along their cotton anniversary. Somewhere around Peter burning casserole for his special birthday surprise dinner and the fantastic make up sex on Egyptian threads.

He loses his fear even when faced with the never-ending line of couples wanting to hire him. For the gold diggers and the sunset clauses and the genuine destructions of love.

He loses his fear because he comes home every night to Peter. To Hannah.

Peter crawls onto his lap in the middle of Aladdin and stretches out against him like a cat. “Let’s go on holiday,” he says around a yawn, “I always wanted to go to France.”

“I’ve gone a few times,” Tony hums, carding his fingers through Peter’s hair, “I’ll take us. You like the sound of that, Hannah?”

She gives him a thumbs up, eyes on the movie.

He’s gonna see her grow up, Tony realises. He’s going to drive her to college with Peter, sit at her High School graduation and cheer embarrassingly loudly.

He’s going to go grey and Peter will find him even sexier than he already does. Peter’s going to get better and better and better at baking.

Tony’s going to spend the rest of his life this happy. This in love.

The truth hits him, and the fear leaves. It evaporates.

He’s home.

“You love me,” he breathes, alight with certainty, and Peter snorts.

“Only a lot.”

“I will never divorce you.” He vows, speaking of a future certainty that he always warns his clients against. Breaking every rule he’s ever known. He was trembling at their wedding- even though he loved Peter with everything, he was still so scared of the transience of their love-

Now he knows.

“Good, good,” Peter says around another yawn, “I’ll never divorce you either. You’re my Tony.”

His Tony.

It’s all he ever wants to be.

Hannah notices the cuddling and leaps onto the couch with them, and Tony holds them close and is content.

#starker #fluff #peter x tony #lawyer tony #baker peter #single dad peter #getting together #flirting #tony stark is bad at feelings #precious peter parker #tony stark has a heart #protective tony #nicknames #lots of warm cookies and feelings #divorce lawyer tony #happy ending

[petersasteria]

Anger Issues - Harry Holland

Requested? Nope. I’ve been meaning to write this for so long and decided “fuck it” whether ppl will read it or not lmao what’s important is I finally release some decent content and I like it and that’s important.

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Words: 4,307

Masterlist 

* * * *

"Please wait here and the doctor will call you when it's your turn." the assistant tells you before leaving the waiting room. You look around and see two guys there. One of them had his hands in his pockets, his hood up, and his head nodding along to the music going through his earphones. In short, he looks like your average everyday mysterious emo guy from high school. The other guy looks the total opposite. He was like the guy everyone liked, but not exactly popular. He was on his phone, chuckling from time to time. He was wearing a blue sweater and some worn out jeans.

You sit across from them and the two guys look at you. You give them a tight-lipped smile. Emo guys rolled his eyes, but the guy next to him smiles back at you. It wasn't a fake smile either. It was a genuine smile.

'Seems like a nice guy.' you thought to yourself.

The less emo guy puts his phone in his pocket and starts up a conversation, "I've never seen you around here before and we're here every week. What-"

"Can you just shut the fuck up, Thomas? Why do you have to talk all the fucking time?? You're so fucking annoying. Maybe that's why your girlfriend left you for that other guy." emo guy snaps.

You and 'Thomas' look at him. While you were shocked at his mini outburst, 'Thomas' looked like he was used to it, though. "You don't have to speak like that whenever you're annoyed at someone, Harry." Thomas tells him in a soft and comforting voice.

"Wow. Look at you being a big brother for once!" Harry says sarcastically. "And the brother of the year award goes to...Thomas Stanley Holland! Give it up for him everybody!" He claps his hands. At this point, you and Thomas are beginning to feel uncomfortable. Especially you; you've never met these people before.

Thomas looks at you with a sorry expression, "I'm sorry about Harry. Anyway, I assume you heard my name already-"

"Of course she did. She has ears, dipshit." Harry mutters under his breath before taking his phone out of his pocket and scrolling through it.

"You can call me 'Tom'." Tom smiles, ignoring Harry. "What's your name?"

"Y/N." you tell him. Tom nods before looking at Harry then at you. He gets up from his seat and immediately sits next to you. You were a bit... scared. A stranger suddenly sits next to you after his brother shouts at him in anger isn't exactly an ideal way of meeting and getting to know someone.

Tom seems to notice your change of demeanor and chuckles, "I won't do anything, don't worry. It's just nice to see someone else in this place on a Saturday morning. It's usually just me and him and sometimes Sam, our brother, tags along too. But most of the time, just me and him."

You nod and feel yourself getting comfortable with Tom. "So, why are you alone? It's hard seeing a psychiatrist alone for the first time. I mean, it's not Harry's first time here, that's for sure. But if I were in your place, coming here with someone closest to me would make me feel less scared and nervous. Even if they don't go inside the room with you, it's nice to know that there's someone in the waiting room who's waiting for you and who's there for you every step of the way." Tom rambles.

"My parents dropped me off and then they said that they'll come back for me when I text them as soon as I finish here." you tell him truthfully.

"Well, they're shitty parents." Tom crosses his arms, "No offense."

"None taken." you chuckle. "They are shitty parents, though." Tom laughs and shakes his head.

The door opens and the current patient quickly in tears. The patient practically ran, not giving you a chance to see if it were a girl or boy. You look at the direction they came from and see the psychiatrist standing there. You look at the psychiatrist in fear.

You turn to Tom and whisper, "Why the fuck was that patient crying? Is this lady batshit crazy? Does she always make them cry??"

"Of course not." Tom whispers. "All I know about that last patient is that they're always here three times a week. I know, because I've asked before."

"Harry, you can come in now." the psychiatrist smiles at him. Harry rolls his eyes and stands up, getting his backpack (which needed to be washed) from the floor.

"You'll get through this today, Harry! I'm right here." Tom smiles at him, cheering him on as if Harry were to compete at something. Harry looks at him, gives him a fake smile, and the middle finger before entering the room, the 'click' of the door being closed was heard immediately after he went in.

"Now it's just you and me." Tom says. "What do you usually do here when you're alone waiting for Harry?" you ask curiously, obviously bored out of your mind.

"I just go on my phone. Sometimes I bring my homework and do it here. But since I don't have homework at the moment, I'm as free as a bird." Tom answers. "Speaking of phone, let's exchange numbers! It'll be so much fun having a new friend!"

Thomas Stanley Holland was too bubbly for your liking. But you exchanged numbers anyway. Even social media usernames.

After two hours of chatting with Tom, you come to realize that he's genuinely a nice and friendly guy. You really had fun talking to him. Harry emerges from the room with the same mysterious emo look on his face. "Let's go, Thomas."

"Hey champ! How was it?" Tom smiles.

"Are you fucking mocking me?" Harry asks, his temper slightly rising.

Judging by the little time you've known Harry, you've come to conclusion that he's in therapy for his anger issues. You notice that the little things seem to tick him off. The dude's a fucking time bomb.

"Harry, I was just asking nicely. I didn't mean to offend you. Please don't get mad at me." Tom says in that comforting and soft voice.

An outsider would think that they're complete strangers who are fighting, because at this point, it's hard to believe that they're siblings.

"I wouldn't have gotten mad if you just followed me when I said that we should go home. I wouldn't have gotten mad if you didn't open your fucking mouth." Harry said in sort of a Draco Malfoy tone.

Tom looks at you and quietly says, "I'll text you." He stands up and follows his brother on his way out.

"Y/N, it's your turn." the psychiatrist says.

"Welp, here goes nothing." you say to yourself before going in the room and closing the door.

"Hello Y/N. I'm Dr. Joanne Moore. But you can call me Joanne, so that it's less intimidating." Joanne smiles. "Please take a seat and make yourself comfortable."

Joanne motions for you to sit on the couch while she sits across from you on the spinning office chair everyone loves. You do as she says and you let yourself relax as your gaze wanders around the room. The room was neither small nor large and the only light source was the sun shining outside; its rays coming through the window.

"I understand that you're new here. Where are you from?" Joanne asks.

"New York." you reply. Joanne hums and nods, "Why did you move here?"

"My father is English and my mother is American. My mom told my dad that maybe it'd be best to move to a new environment. She's basically sick of New York. Around the time she said that, my dad got offered a new job here with a salary higher than what he was paid back home. Then, the rest is history." you respond. You've been repeating the same response to your neighbors and to everyone you meet, so you completely memorize it like the back of your hand. You can say shit in your sleep.

"I see. Welcome to London." Joanne smiles. You mutter a small 'thank you' before leaning back on the couch.

"Would you like to tell me why you're here?" Joanne asks.

"I thought you'd never ask." you lightly chuckle.

-

"Y/N, is that you?!" you hear a familiar voice from your left side. You turn your head and see Tom with a smile on his face, "Oh my god, it is you! I didn't know we had the same school. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Um, I didn't think it was necessary?" your answer came out more like a question.

"Of course, it's necessary. We're best friends now!" Tom grins. He looks behind him and says, "Guys, come here!" A group of guys walk in your direction with Harry following behind them.

"Guys, this is Y/N the girl from therapy." Tom introduces. "Y/N, this is the gang: Harrison, Sam, Jacob, and of course you know Harry."

"Hi everyone." you smile politely.

"Hey you don't have an accent too!" Jacob smiles. "I'm from Hawaii. What about you?"

"New York." you smile proudly. You were beginning to feel homesick and talking about New York would make you feel much better.

"That's so awesome! I've been there once. It was family vacation and I had so much fun there! Maybe there was a slight chance we bumped into each other while I was there or something." Jacob tells.

"Are we going to class or are we going to stand here all day while Jacob tells his New York escapade?" a voice from the back startles everyone even though they knew who it belonged to. The five of you look at Harry and mutter apologies to which Harry replied with "whatever" and rolling his eyes before leaving the group.

"My twin has left, lady and gentlemen." Sam says to all of you.

"Wait, he's your twin?" you ask in shock.

"Yup." Sam confirms. "Hard to take in, right?"

You nod in agreement. "Let's go to class. I don't want to be late on my first day." you chuckle nervously.

"You'll be fine! We'll probably have classes with you." Harrison says, calming your nerves a bit. "Good luck if you have a class with Harry, though. He's hard to work with. He kind of wants to do his own thing, but he helps even though he's like that."

Harrison's heads up about Harry made you not want to share a class with him.

Luck wasn't on your side, however. As soon as you enter your first class, which is history, the only empty seat was next to Harry. You take a deep breath before walking to the empty seat next to him.

"Oh great." Harry mumbles. Understanding his issues, you bite back a reply and just take in everything that's happening. Everyone is talking to each other except for you and Harry despite the fact that you know each other. To be fair, you aren't close with him. You're closer with Tom, so you didn't know what Harry liked to talk about.

Just then, the teacher arrives and everyone went to their proper seats. The teacher looked like she was in her mid 30s. She looked nice.

"Before we start, we have a new student from New York." she smiles at you. "Please, introduce yourself to everyone."

Harry turns to you and sees your shocked face. Upon seeing that, he chuckles and shakes his head, "Just get it over with." Hearing Harry being normal sounded so foreign to you, but you took his advice and went on to introduce yourself.

"You don't have to stay here in front. Just stand up and tell us about yourself." the teacher says.

"Okay, um, my name is Y/N Y/L/N and I'm from New York. I just moved here, like, a week ago. So yeah...that's it I guess." you awkwardly say and you sit down.

"Welcome Y/N! I hope you enjoy your stay. My name is Mrs. Smith and I'll be your history teacher." Mrs. Smith says. "Speaking of history, let's get started."

Mrs. Smith began to discuss for the rest of the time. Five minutes before the class ends, Mrs. Smith tells everyone that they'll have a project that'll be done in pairs. You didn't know anyone in class except for Harry and Harrison's warning is at the back of your head. So to say that you didn't know what to do would be an understatement.

"I already have a list of pairs and I'll dictate it." Mrs. Smith says.

'Thank god.' you mutter under your breath.

'Fucking hell.' Harry rolls his eyes.

"Y/N you'll be paired with Harry." Mrs. Smith smiles, before continuing. You look at Harry and he looks at you unimpressed.

"I don't usually allow anyone to work with me, but since you're new and you're practically best friends with my brother, I'll give you a chance. That's as far as I can go with being nice to someone." Harry tells you. You just nod, still kind of intimidated by him. "Also," he says again, "back the fuck off when we're out together. I don't like it when people invade my space." Harry fakes a smile and puts his stuff in his bag. You just stay quiet and do the same.

When Mrs. Smith dismisses the class, Harry immediately left. Of course, you followed. You didn't want to be alone in a room with people you didn't know. You'd much rather be stuck with Tom even though he talks too much and is too bubbly. You'd also prefer if you were stuck with Harry and even though he gets angry all the time and he hardly says anything to you, at least he's someone you know.

As soon as you leave the room, Tom and the rest were there to greet you. "Hey!!!" they all greet cheerfully.

"Oh my god what the fuck did I get myself into?" you ask yourself, putting on a smile for them nonetheless.

"Congrats! You survived your first class in your new school." Jacob says. "Are you ready to go through the rest of the day?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." you respond. It wasn't even at least half of the day and you were already tired. Tom and his friends seem to have a lot of energy and seeing them really energized makes you tired.

-

Saturday comes around again and you're back at therapy. You walk in the waiting room and see Harry there. Now, it's awkward. Like last week, you sit across from Harry and begin to mind your own business. 'He did say "back the fuck off", right?' you think to yourself.

"Tom has a dentist appointment in case you're wondering." Harry's voice startles you. You look up from your phone and see him already looking at you. "It's just me today. Sam is at his part time job and I don't want to bring my youngest brother, Paddy to this depressing place. I don't want him to end up mentally messed up. He doesn't deserve that."

How the fuck are you going to respond to that?

"Oh, I see." you says, still not sure what to reply. "Thanks for telling me, I guess."

"What'll you do after this?" Harry asks curiously.

"I'll probably just walk around or go sight seeing. My parents are on a business trip and all my siblings have their own lives now, because they're older than me." you tell him truthfully. He nods and says, "I have nothing going on at my place at the moment and I want to get away."

You shrug, "Go ahead, then. No one's stopping you."

Harry just stares at you and it's beginning to freak you out, because you don't know if he's going to burst or not. Finally, after almost a minute of silence and staring at each other Harry speaks up, "Do you have money on you?"

"Excuse me?"

Harry rolls his eyes, "Do you have cash right now? I have some stashed in my backpack right now."

"Um, is that even importa-"

"Just answer the fucking question, Becky." Harry says, clearly starting to get annoyed. "Yeah, I do. Why does it matter?" you gulp.

"Good." Harry says. "We'll talk later after your session. It's my turn now." As if on cue, the door opens and the patient from last week quickly runs past you and Harry. He stands up, grabs his backpack and enters the room.

To say you were confused was an understatement. Why was he suddenly talking to you? You decided to text Tom about it.

To: Tom

Hey man hope the dentist thing is going well for u. Harry just said the weirdest shit and idk what to say or feel. Send help xo

You didn't expect a reply, so you went on Instagram and just scrolled through it until it was your turn.

-

After your session, you were surprised to see Harry waiting for you. He looks up from his phone, takes out one of his earphones and asks, "Ready to go? I'm starving." You just nod and off you two went.

Both of you end up at a sandwich shop far from the building. You both eat in silence and it's beginning to feel awkward; for you at least. Harry seemed fine.

"Let's leave London." Harry says all of a sudden, making you choke on your sandwich. "Jesus, are you okay?" he asks with no concern, whatsoever. He's more worried about both of you causing a scene.

You finally calm down and nod, "Now I'm okay. Where are we going?"

Harry shrugs, "Anywhere we set our mind to. I haven't been outside of London for years. Maybe we could go somewhere to experience a new environment or whatever."

"...London is my new environment." you explain to him.

"I know, dipshit." Harry rolls his eyes, "but you wanted to go sight seeing, don't you?"

"Yeah, around London not outside London."

"What's wrong with going outside of London?!"

"Why're you pushing for us to go outside of London?!" you rebutt.

"BECAUSE I HATE THIS PLACE!!" Harry yells causing everyone in the shop to look at both of you. You flinch at his words and you didn't know what to say. Harry angrily stands up, kicks the chair, and leaves the shop. All of the customers and employees look at you with pity.

"Poor thing." one customer said.

"Wow, worst boyfriend of the year award goes to that guy." the other said.

You gather yours and Harry's belongings and run out of the shop, hoping you're not too late to catch Harry. After looking left and right, you see him standing not too far away and you approach him.

"Hey," you say softly, "you know what? Let's go outside London." You decided that maybe Harry hasn't been getting what he wanted that's why he's always angry, so you'll give him a chance. You also started using the same tactic as Tom: speaking softly which is quite difficult and tiring, but if Tom can do it, so can you.

Harry looks at you and nods. Without saying a word, he grabs his bag from you and walks to the train station. Not wanting to get lost on your second week in London, you rush to follow him before you lose him in the crowd.

-

"So where are we?" you ask Harry.

"Dorset." Harry responds. "It's probably my favorite place. I don't know why, but it calms me down. I usually go here alone, but I don't want to be alone at the moment." You nod, you understand the feeling.

You and Harry walk around and he shows you the different spots he likes to stay and relax at and somehow, both of you end up on top of a hill. The view was remarkable. It was different from your view in New York and different from your view in your room back in London. This view gave you peace and you're starting to understand why Harry likes it there so much.

You both sit on the grass and sit in silence. Taking in the smell of the sea while your hair was following in the direction the wind is blowing. "How long do you usually stay here?" you ask Harry almost in a whisper.

"Until it gets dark." Harry responds. "Sometimes I don't go home at all. Not like anyone would care anyway. It's boring back at home to the point where it doesn't feel like home anymore. Back in London I just live in a house with three brothers, a set of parents, and a dog named Tessa. Being with them doesn't feel like home."

You nod, "Is that why you go to therapy?" You knew it wasn't your business to ask, but he's starting open up to you about the things he's feeling.

"I think you already know why I go to therapy. I had an episode at the sandwich shop." Harry laughs bitterly. "Maybe the question should be asking me is how I ended up like this."

"I wasn't always like this, you know. Believe it or not, I was like Tom." Harry admits. You didn't say anything, though. You wanted to, but you figured he needed to let it all out.

"It happened two years ago. Kevin, my best friend, and I were walking home from school. We didn't know the bullies from school followed us, but when we noticed them it was too late. For some reason, I was an easy target. So they took my money and taunted me and all that shit. I was used to it, but Kevin had enough. He punched one of the bullies and soon, they were nearly killing each other. I tried to stop them, but two of them held me back while I watched how the 'leader' of the group punched the life out of Kevin. Maybe someone saw what was happening, because the police came. The 'leader' threw one last punch and pushed Kevin before running. The two guys who held me back pushed me forward and ran away too." Harry tells you, his voice becoming shaky.

"I immediately went to check on Kevin and panicked when I didn't feel a pulse. One of the policemen called an ambulance. Then we arrived at the hospital and he," Harry takes a deep breath, tears falling freely down his cheeks, "he was dead on arrival. I guess he got pushed really hard and his head collided on the concrete with so much force. Lethal damage."

"Ever since then, I never forgave myself. I could've done something; anything. But I was just there, watching as my best friend die right in front me." Harry sniffs. "I can't help, but blame myself. He intervened to save me. If I only knew that saving me would lead to his death, I wouldn't have let him. I would've just gave the bullies what they wanted so they can leave him alone. He was the only one who understood me and he knew my secrets."

"I lived with that guilt every day ever since that happened. I could never forgive myself. My family tried to help me move on, but I couldn't. Every time they helped, I pushed them away. Then I started to get irritated with everything they did, like, why can't they leave me the fuck alone?! My parents decided it would be best for me to go to therapy seeing as I won't let them help me. Tom went with me the first time, because I was irritated with him the most. He kept bugging me. And of course, up to this day he still accompanies me." Harry says, wiping his tears.

"So," Harry chuckles lightly, "that's my story. What's yours?"

You chuckle too, "There's nothing special about it, really. My parents just think that there's something wrong with me, but that's not true. At least I think it's not true." Harry just nods for you to continue.

"I'm the youngest in my family. I have three older siblings and they're all married now. My parents are obviously so happy. In fact, they're so happy that they forget about me...all the time. Every time we have this little family lunch or dinner, my parents always ask about how my siblings are doing and shit like that. I've tried, you know? I've tried to push myself to talk to them, but whenever I do, my parents dismiss me and they tell me they're busy or they tell me to shut up, because one of my siblings are talking and it'd be rude to interrupt. I got tired and I just didn't try anymore." you tell him.

"It sucks, man. I have no one to turn to when things get tough. I have no one to be excited for me whenever I have good news. I feel so alone. I only had three friends back in New York and to be honest with you, they weren't even near the level of becoming my best friends. Sure, we hung out and stuff, but I was always their last choice to hang out with. If everyone else is busy, they call me and my stupid ass would answer immediately. Thank god we moved here. New environment is good." you sigh. "I'm really glad I met you guys, though. Tom talks too much, but he's alright. I now have one best friend; how cool is that!"

Harry laughs lightly, "Well, now you have two."

You look at him and give him a small smile, "Are you sure? I'm no Kevin, but I'll try."

"I don't need a new Kevin. Just be you." Harry says, nudging you slightly. "It's nearly getting dark. Should we head back?"

"Sure." you smile. Both of you stood up and grabbed your things before leaving. From that moment on, something told you that you wouldn't be alone anymore and it felt great to finally have someone by your side.

* * * *

Feedback please?

Tagging my mutuals: @sweetdespairbarnes @myblueleatherbag @fanficparker @tommysparker @lcvelyparkers + @justasmisunderstoodasloki (bc this person is nice to me sksks)

Want to contact me? 

#harry holland #harry holland imagines #harry holland one shots #harry holland fanfiction #harry holland fanfic #harry holland fic #harry holland x reader #harry holland x y/n #tom holland #tom holland imagines #harrison osterfield #haz osterfield #sam holland

[pa-panda-heroes]

this was purely self-indulgent so i don’t expect it to get a lot of traction, but i liked writing it so ;;v;;

Warning: slight violence, reference to child abuse(??? not reaaally but....). The warnings sound worse than it really is honestly. i’m just being careful

Words: 1,400

It was raining. No, not the aggravating midday downpour that ruins hairstyles and shoes, soaks formal suits, and douses pedestrians when a bus happens to roll through water gathered at the side of the street as it attempts to slow to a stop. It was night, late at night. Calming and calling. Calling for something. But Saiko didn’t know what.

Under her umbrella she guides her lithe fingers through her hair, a sigh - a normal, plain sigh with nothing behind it - leaves her chapped lips as she walks the sidewalk. For the first time in a while, she didn’t wear her mask to go out in public. Other walking bodies were sprinkled here and there, this area being one of bars and mom and pop restaurants. It was a nice little area, cramped comfortably and with a homey vibe. There was a reason she was walking this street, but Saiko didn’t know it.

She didn’t know a lot of things, it turned out.

Saiko walked past a young boy, almost a teenager maybe, fiddling with a ukulele that looked like it had been passed down a few generations. She stopped for a short moment to stare with a straight face. After a short second he noticed and looked up at her with candied eyes and a carefree smile.

“Do you play, onee-san?” he asked through the rain. Under an awning he sat.

“No.”

He looked so innocent and young.

“Aw, shame! I need a mentor.”

“You were going to ask me to mentor you?” She quirked a brow at him, feeling ancient. Her chest hurt to look at him. Maybe it was the rain, but it sounded like she heard voices inside the building behind him. Angry voices.

“Well, why not?” He gave a young shrug. “You’re the first to stop and talk to me. I think you’re the first to even notice I’m here, actually. I thought you looked like the type of person who helped others in need...” His smile this time was embarrassed, as if bashful or ashamed to tell her his impression of her, for assuming her character.

“Do I? Maybe I was meant to be. But I’m not.” Her eyes softened at him, the pit in her heart growing wider. She was sad as she looked at him. “Why are you out in the rain?”

“It’s relaxing, I think. Besides, it’s too hot in there.” He points to the building behind him before focusing on the instrument in his hands.

Both jump when something made of glass hits the door to his left and the voices come closer, louder and angrier. A wave of sadness flashes across the boy’s face for a split second.

“Your parents?” she asked. She wanted to do something but it wasn’t her place. She had no reason to get involved.

“Yeah. Arguing about sports, you know how it is.” He laughed it off.

He was hiding from them, or from one of them. It was obvious, now.

It was abundantly clear from whom he was hiding when a drunken man, middle aged, stumbled through the door. Anger practically radiated off of him, and the look in his eye spoke of spilt blood. The man didn’t even seem to notice Saiko, instead his horns aiming at the boy. She began to walk away. It was a familial matter, and she had no business sticking her head in. Saiko wanted no part in it.

“What’re you doin’ out here, huh? You really think you’re smart enough to learn music, brat?” he spat, words slurring. “Pssh.”

“I don’t see the hurt in trying,” was the boy’s meek reply. As soon as that door opened, his whole demeanor had changed.

The older man laughed and waved his hand before uttering something and raising his fist, the little boy turning and cringing in response, waiting for the sound of skin cracking against skin. His eyes were shut, and then he heard it. But he felt nothing.

“Keep those eyes closed and cover your ears, kiddo,” he heard the unfamiliar woman say, and so he did.

Saiko had turned and caught the man’s wrist, then proceeded to yank it her way, and kneed him in the gut. He bent over in pain with a groan as she let go. “Why don’t...” she grabbed what little hair lay on his head and yanked it up to her eyes’ level, “you pick on someone your own size, eh?!” She landed a haymaker to the side of his face, sending him back into a trash can with a loud metallic sound.

“Who... who the he-“

“Ever heard of the Fourth Circle of Hell?” Saiko asked proudly, stretching her arms out to raise her open palms at hip level.

He scrambled on the ground away from her, panic clear in his breathing and movements. “No! N-no, no, no... Please don’t tell them!” He was all bark and no bite. Hell, he wasn’t even all bark, now.

She stepped slowly and menacingly toward him. “I am them, dipshit! Now,” she pointed to the restaurant directly across the street, “I’m gonna plant some guys over there, and you know what they’re gonna do?” He said nothing, and so she kicked the metal trash can loudly. “Huh?! C’mon!” It’d been so long since she’d heard her own voice that loud.

“I-I don’t know!”

“They’re gonna watch you, and they’re gonna listen, and if they even think that you’ve laid your hands on that child,” she towered over the man, seemingly ready to send him to meet his maker, “his mother, or siblings, or berate them in any way, they’re gonna tell me. And I’m gonna pay you a little visit. Got that?!” She kicked the trash can again as if to solidify the message and he cried out in fear. Saiko spun on her heel towards the boy to walk past him, but seeing him closing his eyes so tightly and covering his ears like that, she decided to gently tap his shoulder.

Oh, how she had wished someone did this for her.

He opened one eye at a time and then removed his hands from his ears, his eyes darting to his father on the ground. “Are you a hero?” he asked, seeing the blood trail down his father’s temple and the whipped pup look on his face.

“I-“ Saiko stopped, then looking at the ground shamefully. “No.”

“You’re my hero. You have kind eyes.”

Her breath caught in her throat painfully. She let out a sigh and patted the poor boy on the head. “Kind eyes can hide a cruel personality.” Saiko stood up straight and went on her merry way, knuckles stinging as she picked up her umbrella from the ground. It sounded like the boy’s mother came outside and brought him in. She didn’t look back, though, instead tucking her chin down and picking up her pace. As she breezed along the sidewalk, she noticed a couple waiting at the bus stop on the other side of the street, sitting on a bench under an awning to hide from the rain as they waited. Saiko’s grip on her umbrella tightened. They were young, and the lady seemed to be about six months pregnant.

They smiled and laughed with one another, their cheery demeanor a total contrast to the weather, and Saiko couldn’t help but grin a little. How sweet and happy they looked. She couldn’t look any longer and kept walking, her umbrella beginning to feel as though it weighed a metric tonne. She looked down at the ground as she walked. The rain fell heavier.

Saiko wasn’t sure when, but she must’ve dropped her umbrella before turning into some random alleyway. She couldn’t breathe. The air was soothing and cooling, but she couldn’t breathe. A sob fought its way out of her with so much force, she dropped to her knees, letting out other, less intense sobs as tears gushed from her poor eyelids. She huddled over and hugged herself, fingers digging harshly into her own shoulders. She choked on air itself, hiccuping and holding back an anguished scream.

In that very moment, she just wanted someone to hold her. They wouldn’t have to say anything. Merely the presence of another would soothe her right now.

The rain pelted her back so hard it hurt, but not as much as the eternal loneliness that never subsided.

#bnha oc #mha oc #panda writes #my oc tag #saiko #y'all i have no idea what to tag #this isnt anything special so i didnt name it but #kinda feel like i should

[therainroguefanfiction]

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 038 [Wildest Fantasies]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 3,240

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“If you ever need somebody, even if all your tiles fall down, If you even need somebody, even when all your hope runs out, If you ever need somebody, I believe, I believe, I believe in you.” The Score, “Believe”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Nice work,” Aizawa told us. “You have the next two days of school off to recuperate. I’m sure the pros that watched the festival will want to recruit some of you. We’ll look over the draft forms and update you when you return. Get some rest, you still have a lot of training.”

“Yes, sir!”

I glanced over at Iida’s empty desk. After the awards ceremony had ended, I caught up with Zuku and asked him about what had happened. He was hesitant to tell me, but finally revealed that Iida’s older brother, Ingenium, had been attacked. He didn’t know much more than that, but the fact that Iida left the sports festival prematurely spoke volumes.

A hand slammed down on my desk, breaking me from my thoughts. Katsuki was shaking with anger, the first place metal still clutched between his teeth. I raised a brow, “You look like a feral dog, bro. Are you up to date on your shots?”

“Shut up!” He spat the medal out onto the desk and slammed his hand down again. “Your dumbass was disqualified! You said you didn’t get in trouble, you fucking liar!”

I hummed, leaning back in my chair. “I didn’t lie, dipshit. I said I had to apologize, which I did, but I never said that was all. Which reminds me, I’m supposed to apologize again.” I stood up, throwing my shoulder bag over my head before patting his shoulder. “Grats on winning first place, Katsuki~” His body tensed up and he grumbled something under his breath, but I couldn’t make out what it was he said.

Class B was buzzing with chatter about the day’s events, but it died down as soon as they noticed me in the doorway. This school has a serious fucking staring problem. I huffed in annoyance before approaching Monoma, who sat in the same spot as Zuku. His eyes widened a bit when I stopped in front of him. To be honest, I had planned on just apologizing and leaving, but with everyone staring fucking holes into my body, I’m feeling a bit, uh… well, I don’t fucking like it one bit.

“Come with me for a minute,” I demanded, jabbing my thumb toward the door. He hesitated before standing up and grabbing his bag. I caught Ryuu’s eye on the way out and he sent me a worried smile. Guess I can’t blame him for not trusting me anymore. I brought the blonde to the stairway, waiting for two girls to finish their descent before speaking up. “I’m sorry for punching you, bro.”

His brow furrowed, eyes guarded. “You already apologized once. Huh, I guess class A really has no pride!”

I shrugged. “Midnight said I had to apologize again and I don’t wanna face the cruelty she promised if I don’t. Later.”

“Wait,” he grabbed my wrist before I could walk away, but quickly let go when I narrowed my eyes at him. He cleared his throat, meeting my eyes. “I may hate class 1-A, but I’m not a snitch. I didn’t tell anyone that you hit me, and neither did Rin or Kendo.”

My brow furrowed as he walked away. I know he’s telling the truth, but then… how the fuck did Midnight find out it was me? Was someone else there that we didn’t see? I rubbed the back of my head. What a pain.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I stifled a yawn as I slid the chicken breast into the boiling oil, hearing the sizzle as they started to cook. Honestly, I feel so fucking exhausted, I just want to go die on the couch, but I need food first. Plus, Aizawa still can’t do anything with those arms of his and if I make him a delicious meal, maybe he won’t punish me as hard over the whole punching thing. Hell, if it’s good enough, he might forget altogether!

The front door creaked open, followed by a loud, familiar voice that made me groan. “Your students are crazy, Shota! They totally rocked the show today!”

“You’re too loud,” Aizawa grunted. “You’re gonna wake Jen up.”

Aww, he really does care!

“Hey hey, what’s that delicious smell?!” Mic stuck his head in the kitchen, his face lighting up. “Jen, my beautiful girl!” He rushed me, trying to throw his arms around me but I sidestepped and he slammed his face into the cabinet above the counter. Heh, that’s what you get for being so tall, fecker. “Ow~”

“I figured you’d be asleep…” Aizawa regarded me curiously from the doorway.

“Should be, but it is my job to take care of you until you’re all healed up, ya know.” I wagged my finger.

“Aww, she loves you!” Mic cooed, reaching out for my cheek but I slapped his hand away. Why’s this fucker gotta be so damn touchy?

“No, she doesn’t.” He responded blankly, settling down at the kitchen table. “She’s trying to butter me up so I don’t punish her.”

I winced, forcing a smile. “I would never do such a thing, Shouta~”

“Don’t pretend to be nice, it’s creepy.”

“Fucking rude, bro.”

“Let Mic finish the food. That’s the only reason I brought him here.”

“Hey! I thought you enjoyed my company!” Mic cried out.

“You thought wrong.”

I laughed when Mic cried out again, turning toward the chicken and poking it with a fork like a sad little kid. “You guys are so mean~”

“Sit down,” Aizawa ordered, staring me down. I hesitated but sat beside him. “Midnight told me why you were disqualified. You know better, Jen.”

I scowled, slouching down in my chair and crossing my arms. “It’s not my fault, Zawa. Today has been the longest, most draining day of my entire life. Even worse than that time Travis brought a fucking llama to show in tell only for the administration to ban fucking llamas. I mean, who does that? Llamas are majestic as fuck and they deserve to be treated with respect!”

“Uh, Shouta, what the heck is she talkin’ about?”

“I have no clue.”

“Anyway, if my life were a book, today alone would take up like thirteen chapters. Thirteen chapters, Aizawa! That’s insane.”

“Pretty sure you’re the insane one, darling.” Mic commented.

“Hey,” I glared at him. “Focus on the fucking chicken you damned cockatiel.”

“You gave me a nickname?! I knew you loved me!”

“Fuck off!”

Aizawa sighed, clearly done with both of us. “Did you apologize to Monoma?”

“Twice.”

“Good. The next two days are going to be pure hell for you. I hope you’re prepared, Jen.”

I swallowed hard, a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek. “W-What are you talkin’ about, Zawa?”

“Did you really think I wouldn’t punish you?” He deadpanned. “As punishment, you’ll be training non-stop during your two days off from school.”

“Oh come on, that’s so not fai -” My words died in my throat at the challenging look he sent me, his eyes daring me to finish the word so he could spew the same lecture about how life is full of unfairness get over it. Instead of replying, I let my forehead drop to the table with a thud, the table shaking from the impact.

I really hate my life sometimes.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

I huffed and puffed, but I didn’t blow the house down, don’t even worry about it. I leaned over, resting my hands on my knees as my lungs burned, my side feeling like I was ripping open stitches with every deep breath I took. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, the sky lighting up with shades of orange and red. True to his fucking word, Aizawa had woken me up at three-fucking-thirty in the morning to run around the city.

“Get moving,” Zawa’s voice buzzed through the earpiece he had forced me to wear to ensure that I was, in fact, carrying out my punishment. The damn thing gave him real-time updates as to my location and if I was moving or not and if I stopped to catch my breath for too long, he’d bitch at me to get moving.

I groaned in frustration and started to run again. I wonder if I can stick this fuckin’ thing on a dog and just spend the rest of the day napping in the park. If he found out I did that, though, he’d double what he’s already making me do. Man, this sucks. What’s Katsuki doing right now? What about Zuku? Or Todo –

“Fuck!” I fell backward, clutching my forehead that had just collided with another. “Watch where the fuck you’re going, you fuck – Oh, hey Todoroki.”

His brow was furrowed, hand on his own forehead as he sat on the ground across from me. “Winchester…”

“Sorry,” I grunted, pulling myself to my feet before extending my hand to him. “Wasn’t paying attention.”

“It’s okay,” he slipped his hand into mine and I pulled him up.

“What are you doing out and about so early?”

“I’m… going to go see my mom.”

“Hmm, I see.” I smiled, ruffling his hair. “Be safe on your way, Todo.”

“Please wait…” His slim fingers curled around my wrist, stopping me from leaving.

I raised a brow at him. If I don’t get moving soon, Aizawa’s gonna bitch at me again and every time he does, he adds five more minutes to the total time that I’m meant to be running. Still, what if what he wants to say is important? Ahh, fuck choices. “What’s up?”

“What was… the technicality that stopped you from fighting me?” He questioned, his heterochromatic eyes meeting mine.

“Ah, that. I punched a guy from class B.” I grinned. “Totally fucking worth it, but after seeing you fight Zuku, I was disappointed. Though I guess it doesn’t matter, you wouldn’t have used your flames against me, huh?”

He tilted his head, bangs swaying against his forehead. “You wanted to fight me?”

“Well, not at first, no. I thought it would be a pain.” I scratched my cheek. “But damn, those flames of yours are fucking beautiful.” I lifted up my hand, flames dancing across my palm as I molded them to look like a Sparrow. “Don’t get me wrong, I love my flames, they’re a part of who I am, ya know? But… I don’t know, there’s just something mesmerizing about yours.”

His cheeks dusted pink and he shifted his gaze to the side. “No one has ever said that to me before…”

I chuckled as Zawa scolded me through the earpiece, telling me to stop lazing around. “Listen, Todoroki, don’t let that flame fuck of a father determine how you live your life. Zuku was completely right when he said it’s your power. Using it doesn’t make you him, it doesn’t make you like him, and it doesn’t mean you’re giving into him. It’s a part of who you are, don’t run away from that.”

It was small, but he did smile. “Thank you, Winchester…”

I grinned, ruffling his hair. “If you ever need anything, don’t hesitate to reach out to us, okay? No need to keep that shit bottled up when you have us. Now, get going and say hi to your mum for me~” With a wave, I continued my jog.

I still have no fucking idea why my mother chose to become a hero and I probably never will, but that’s okay. It took me a while to figure it out, but I finally found my reason to fight, to go on with this new life I’ve been given. I want to get stronger and master this quirk so I can protect class A and help them reach their goals and achieve their dreams. I’ve decided that I’ll be the one on the sidelines, lifting them up every time they fall and encouraging them to keep moving forward. That will be my purpose in this life. At least for now.

It probably sounds stupid and some people might not consider it a real goal or a valid reason to become a hero, but it’s what my heart wants and no matter what you try, you just can’t deny that fucker. More than anything, I want those kids to smile and be happy as they chase after what their hearts desire.

Gramps gave his entire life to me, even though we weren’t related by blood. He could have so easily just transferred me to that new world and left me, but he didn’t. He gave up everything so I could grow up with love and support. I couldn’t do anything to repay him, to save him from his fate, so I’ve decided that I’ll pay it forward instead and show these kids the same kindness, love, and support that he showed me. And this time? This time I won’t let the life be ripped from the people I love.

I grinned as a feeling of warmth radiated against my chest, pushing my legs harder as I ran toward the sun, rising higher into the sky.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

At twelve-thirty, Aizawa gave me permission to take a break for lunch. Naturally, I headed straight for Shimatsu Tacos. The building itself is kinda small, wedged between a flower shop and a used bookstore, but the place was feckin’ crowded like an amusement park, people hanging around outside the building as they waited for people to clear out from inside. Shit, if I wait in this damn line, I’ll have to start running again before I can even make it to the counter to place my fucking order.

With a scowl, I ducked under the arm holding the door open and squeezed my way through the throng of people, feeling like I was on the fucking subway. It was loud inside, chatter mixing with the yells of the chefs as they called out completed orders. I’m not claustrophobic but hot damn, I might just fucking be after I leave this place. I squeezed my way toward the counter, eyes locking on the back of the next guy in line. He’s tall and lanky with spikey black hair. Here’s to hoping he’s a nice guy. Not like a nice guy, but a genuine one.

I tapped his shoulder to get his attention and he turned his head. Holy fucksticks, what happened to this dude? His chin, neck, ears, and the skin under his eyes were badly scarred and burnt, the skin purple and wrinkled, with metal staples connecting the marred flesh to the rest of his milky complexion. Metal rings covered the orbital of both ears and three small studs pierced his right nostril. Half-lidded turquoise eyes met my own. Quirks are fuckin’ weird, man.

“Hey, I’m kinda in a hurry, do you mind if I cut in front of you?” I asked, glancing at the wall. Fifteen minutes had already passed by.

“Why should I?” he drawled.

“I’ll pay for your fucking food,” I scowled as the cashier called the next person in line.

“Deal,” he grinned, stepping aside so I could approach the counter.

“Good afternoon!” The woman smiled. “What would you like to order?”

“Five soft shell and a large Dr. Pepper,” I pulled out my wallet, using my other hand to wave at the man behind me. “And whatever he wants.”

He stepped up behind me, his natural warmth strong enough that it seeped through his clothes and mine. “Twelve hard shell, add lettuce.”

“Lettuce, really? You’re distorting the perfection that is a meat and cheese taco, you fuck!” I scowled.

“Lettuce is good for you, doll.”

I clicked my tongue, holding up my finger. “False! The lettuce used in most tacos is shredded Iceberg, which offers zero nutritional benefits. You’re basically just eating water.”

“Why do you know what?”

“At my old school, they tried to force the students to eat an Iceberg salad with every meal. That shit’s pretty disgusting, so I did some research and told the principal off. They stopped forcing us to eat it after that.”

“Umm,” the woman sweatdropped. “I-Is that all?”

I looked at the ravenette expectantly and he rolled his eyes before addressing her. “No lettuce.”

She nodded, typing away at the register. “That comes to a total of $20.50, please.”

“Fuck you’re expensive,” I scowled at him and he grinned, giving me a half-shrug.

“Wait a minute, Cleo.” A hand rested on her shoulder, stopping her from taking my money. “It is you, kid!”

I grinned at the man standing behind her. “Yo, Ojin!”

He smiled brightly before addressing the confused cashier. “Cancel the transaction, this one is on the house!” He then waved his hand, indicating that we should follow him to the back of the shop so we didn’t hold up the line. The ravenette seemed reluctant to follow but did so while keeping his distance. “Sorry I couldn’t stick around for the end of the festival, my phone was blowing up because of you!”

“Heh?” I tilted my head in confusion.

He swung his arm out in front of him. “This crowd? It’s your doing, kid! To be completely honest with you… if things didn’t turn around soon, we’d have had to close down and sell the building, but because you wore our band during the sports festival, we’ve been slam-packed with customers!”

I grinned brightly at this information. “I’m glad to hear that, Ojin. Sorry that I didn’t make it farther.”

“Nonsense, you did great!”

“Boss! Mrs. Shiozaki is calling again!” A man stuck his head out of the kitchen.

“Be right there!” Shimatsu patted my shoulders roughly. “You have my eternal gratitude for saving my father’s business, Jen Winchester. You’re always welcome to eat here for free!”

F-F-Free tacos for life?! Oh my fucking god, I think I’m gonna pass out. Midnight was fucking right, my wildest fucking fantasy just came true. I can die in peace now.

Once Shimatsu was back in the kitchen, the ravenette shifted from his position against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “That happy expression on your face is making me want to vomit.”

“Green ain’t a good color on you, bro.” I tsked. “Don’t hate, appreciate.”

He rolled his eyes, but I didn’t miss the subtle tug of his lips as he held back a smile. “You got me, I’m totally jealous of you, doll.”

The earpiece buzzed, “Time’s up, Jen. Get to it.”

“Goddamn it,” I muttered. Come on, just gimme a few more fucking minutes you damned mummy.

“Here you are!” A young man approached us, holding out a plastic bag with the shop’s name written on it and my large drink. I thanked him and we squeezed our way out of the shop, finally able to breathe properly. I made him hold my drink as I pulled my five from the bag, holding them gingerly between my forearm and chest, light enough that I didn’t squish them but heavy enough that they didn’t wiggle free. I handed him the bag and he returned my drink, rubbing his wet hand on his jeans.

“Later, bruh.” I lifted my drink in a sort of mock wave before turning around.

“Hey, doll.” He paused, his eyes shining. “Thanks.”

I grinned. “Always happy to share the love of a taco. Later, Patchy.” I continued on my way, doing this sort of speed walk mixed with a jog as I tried to inhale my food while balancing the drink and avoiding pedestrians that refused to get the fuck out my way.

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

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[sinsiriuslyemo]

The Rabstian relationship continues to develop, and the sexual tension finally boils over. Merry Christmas if that’s what you celebrate! Happy Holidays is Christmas isn’t your bag! Thank you to those of you who read this story so so much for reading this couple’s journey!

tagged: @bullet-prooflove, @delia26, @ghostofachancewithyou, @whiterose2664, @blown-transistor, @esparza-army, @mikeydodds, @southern-magnolia, @majahight, @katmstanton, @letty-o

9. Merry Christmas

FIVE DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS 2013

The aftermath of Thanksgiving in New York city had always been a whirlwind of holiday shoppers, trying to balance everyday life with the impending deadline of Christmas Day that loomed ahead. Sebastian had never quite understood it; for him holiday shopping had always been easy enough for the three people he typically shopped for. But what exactly did one get for a man they’d been seeing for only three months? Casper had suggested a simple card or giftcard and the pianist couldn’t help but cringe at the thought. Giftcards, while practical, seemed void of any sort of thought, and a simple card was thoughtful, but didn’t exactly show very much effort on his part either.

“You gotta keep it simple, you can’t get him something you would get for me, for example,” Casper said as he followed his friend down an aisle of the store they were in.

“What makes you think that I would get you something similar to what I would get for Rafael?” Sebastian answered with a smirk. Coming upon a rack of shirts, he examined his options as Casper played with a snow globe behind him.

“You know what I mean, dipshit, you always get me amazing gifts because you know me inside and out. Not to mention that it wouldn’t creep me out if you got me something expensive because we’ve known each other since puberty--”

“--When have I ever gotten anyone anything expensive? Do you even know me?” Sebastian replied, turning to knit his brows at Casper.

“I meant rich not as in rich rich, just...thoughtful. Heartfelt.”

“What are you getting Katie this year?” Sebastian asked, turning his attention back to the shirts.

“Don’t change the subject.”

“Look, I know a lot about stuff he likes, but you’re right. We haven’t been seeing each other that long, plus he’s got a demanding job, so the gift not only has to be appropriate for the amount of time we’ve been dating, but also practical given his schedule. It’s just taking me a while to decide what that gift is going to be,” the musician said. Letting out a heavy sigh, he abandoned his search for a t shirt and continued down the aisle.

“You’re thinking way too much about it,” Casper said, setting the snowglobe on the rack with all the others before following the pianist. “What about a case of beer?”

“You’re a neanderthal,” Sebastian mumbled. “It’s Christmas, not a damn barbeque. What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Alright, so a seasonal brew.”

“No, I wanna get him something nice, but not too...big...you know? Casual but...thoughtful,” Sebastian replied.

“Okay, what do you know about him?”

Sebastian sighed again as he stopped in the middle of the aisle and turned to face his friend. “He likes coffee. And theatre...and music, all kinds of music...he really likes crossword puzzles--”

“There you go, get him one of those uh, book-puzzle-thingys,” Casper suggested.

“A book-puzzle-thingy.”

“A book-puzzle-thingy,” Casper repeated. “He’ll like that.”

“Yeah, but he can get those anywhere. No, I want it to still be special, something he can’t find just anywhere.”

“Coffee mug.”

“Animal,” Sebastian replied, pointing to Casper.

“At least I’m coming up with ideas, all you came up with was ‘something special’ which by the way can mean literally anything,” the lanky brunette replied as the two wandered down the next aisle.

“I could make him a book of crosswords?”

“No,” Casper answered, shaking his head. “That’s way too much effort for only having been dating three months, get outta here.”

“Well, what about you?” Sebastian replied, again trying to steer the conversation away from him and Rafael.

“Katie? Figured I’d get her another one of those action figures she likes,” Casper answered with a shrug.

“You got her that for her birthday and let me tell you something else, pretty soon it’s gonna be coming up on a year that you guys have been hooking up and you still won’t give her the girlfriend label. If I were you, I’d shit or get off the pot.”

“Shit or get off the pot,” Casper repeated.

“Shit or get off the pot.”

“Where’s all this pressure coming from all of a sudden? What, are you my relationship counselor now?” Casper asked.

“No, I’m just saying, I know what it feels like to be really into somebody that refused to pull the trigger on making it official,” Sebastian answered as he bobbed his shoulders. “All I’m saying is, she deserves to know whether or not she’s wasting her time after seven months. That’s all.”

“Okay, cupid, so what should I get her then?”

Again Sebastian turned to face his friend, a smile forming on his face. “That depends.”

“On?”

“On whether you want to be her boyfriend or just keep being roommates.”

“Whose friend are you again?” Casper asked.

“Come on, I just think she’s a great girl and to put up with your shit as much as she does, I gotta give her credit for that,” Sebastian replied. “But I’m your friend. Animal. Always.”

“So...what, like a bracelet?” Casper suggested.

“No, that’s generic and she doesn’t wear jewelry. Think outside the box a little,” Sebastian replied, watching as Casper’s brows furrowed in thought.

“She told me once that she’s always wanted a bathrobe.”

“There you go,” Sebastian said with a grin. “Okay, now you just gotta find a bathrobe that fits her personality and you’re good to go.”

Casper arched a brow. “You’re serious? You think I should get her a bathrobe for Christmas?”

“Yes. It’s a relatively small gesture that shows you’ve been paying attention to her and something you know she’ll use,” Sebastian answered. “She’ll love it.”

The brunette remained silent for a moment, eyes lowering as he considered his friend’s words. “Okay  but if she hates it, I’m gonna tell her it was your idea.”

“Fine,” Sebastian replied, turning to resume his search for the perfect gift to give to Rafael.

TWO DAYS BEFORE CHRISTMAS 2013

A lull in the legal system had never been more welcomed and with the William Lewis trial looming--and his lawyer filing seemingly every pretrial motion under the sun--Rafael was all too happy to have the reprieve from other cases. As it was, Lewis’ lawyer had filed three separate motions just that morning, all of which had left him at the office prepping until late.

Walking into the piano bar, his eyes subconsciously went to the man onstage, who was just finishing a cover of Piano Man. Rafael made his way to the bar and smiled at the lanky brunette who was rinsing a glass.

“What can I get you?”

“Hi. Casper, right?” Rafael asked.

“That’s my name,” Casper answered, casually hanging the white towel in his hand over his shoulder. “What’ll it be?”

“Um...scotch, rocks please,” Rafael answered as Sebastian came up beside him and the prosecutor turned towards him. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Sebastian replied, leaning in to drop a kiss on the other man’s lips. “Good day?”

“The courthouse is officially closed for the holidays and now I get to see you, so yes. Amazing day,” Rafael answered.

“Scotch rocks,” he heard Casper say as he placed a drink on the bar. Reaching into the cooler in front of him, he took out a beer for Sebastian, opened it and set that on the bar as well.

“Thank you,” Rafael replied.

“Yup!” Casper said with a nod, walking to attend to another patron on the other side of the bar.

“Don’t mind him, he’s a neanderthal,” Sebastian said, rubbing a hand over Rafael’s back as the attorney chuckled. “Long day?”

“Yeah, I had two pretrial motions earlier and then the same lawyer filed three more for after the holiday,” Rafael answered, taking a sip from his drink.

“That sounds like fun,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh yeah, absolutely. I’m sorry I missed your last set.”

“No, it’s okay, I understand. You’ve been to every one for the last three months, I can’t exactly complain,” Sebastian answered as they walked to Rafael’s usual table, where Katie was sitting, watching something on her phone with earphones. Sebastian leaned towards Rafael and mumbled in his ear, “Somebody tried to sit there earlier so she decided to park it to save you the table.”

“She fended off another customer for me?” Rafael asked with a smirk.

“Mhm, she likes you,” Sebastian answered, smiling back at the prosecutor as they approached the table.

“You didn’t watch the show?” the lawyer asked the brunette, who pulled the ear buds out of her ears when she saw the two men.

“What?”

“What are you watching?” Rafael asked in a chuckle.

“America’s Dumbest Criminals on Youtube. Some people are so stupid,” she replied, setting her phone down. “You’re a lawyer, how many dumb asses do you come across? Like, on average.”

“A few,” Rafael answered, bobbing his shoulders. “Thanks for saving the table for me.”

“Oh, no sweat, I like a corner table anyway,” Katie said, waving a hand. “I’m gonna go grab another beer, you guys want anything?”

“We’re good,” Sebastian answered, holding up his beer and resting his free arm over the back of Rafael’s chair.

“Alright,” Katie replied before she walked to the bar.

“And how was your day?” Rafael asked as he took another sip from his drink.

“Good,” Sebastian answered. “I found your present today.”

“Oh?”

“Yup, I just have to wrap it and it’s good to go,” Sebastian said with a grin. “You going to your mom’s for Christmas?”

“Yes, dinner at eight and then midnight mass. What about you? I assume you’re going to be spending it with Mrs. Fitzgerald?”

“Yeah, I think I’m gonna bring her some food. The Thanksgiving spread wasn’t exactly up to her standards,” Sebastian answered.

Rafael arched a brow in interest. “You cook?”

“Do I cook,” Sebastian replied in a chuckle. “Maybe I can cook for you sometime if you bring me another piece of that flan your grandmother makes.”

“You got yourself a deal,” Rafael said, smirking. “How’s your writing going?”

“Finished another song this morning,” Sebastian replied. “This next one is real bitch, though. I’m struggling.”

“You’ll finish it. I have faith in you,” Rafael said as one hand fell to stroke the musician’s thigh as Katie came back and reclaimed her seat across from them.

“Thanks, babe,” Sebastian mumbled around a smirk.

“Hey, do you know if Casper is getting me a present for Christmas?” Katie asked, looking at Sebastian.

“Maybe.”

“Bastian, come on. You don’t have to tell me what it is, but if he’s not getting me anything, tell me. I don’t wanna get him something and then have him go all weird if he didn’t get me anything,” she replied, her eyes pleading with him.

The pianist sighed heavily. “Okay, yes. He got you something, but that’s it. That’s all you’re getting out of me.”

“That’s fine. Really, it’s fine, don’t tell me,” she said, taking a pull from her beer. “No, tell me what it is--”

“--Nope. Hard line there, I’m not gonna tell you anything else,” Sebastian answered as he shook his head. “Don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“Did you at least help?” she asked. The only response she got, however, was a quirked brow and a smirk. “Come on,” she groaned, turning her attention to Rafael and giving him a sweet smile. “Rafaeeel--”

“--No!” Sebastian interjected, moving his hand from the back of the prosecutor’s chair to his shoulder. “You get no more information.”

“Yeah, don’t pull me into this,” Rafael agreed with a chuckle. “I’m sure that whatever he got you, you will love.”

“Ugh, you both suck,” Katie groaned playfully, taking another sip from her beer. “Hey, you guys should come to trivia with us some night.”

“Trivia?” Rafael inquired.

“Yeah, it’ll be, like, a fun double date,” Katie answered.

“Yeah, I think that sounds fun,” he said, looking over at Sebastian, who winked at him.

“Yay! It’s on Tuesday nights over at the bar on 23rd and 6th.”

“I work Tuesday nights,” Sebastian replied.

“So get Anna to cover you, I’m sure she’d be stoked to work more than one night a week,” Katie said.

Rafael knitted his brows as he took another sip from his drink. “Who’s Anna?”

“She sings here on Monday nights,” Sebastian answered.

“Maybe you should consider it,” Rafael said, bobbing his shoulders. “It would give you more time to work on your musical anyway.”

“Yeah, and besides she’s gonna be finishing school soon. If she doesn’t get more hours, she’ll have to start looking for another job,” Katie chimed.

“Maybe after the holidays,” Sebastian suggested.

“Speaking of which, Katie, what are you doing for Christmas?” Rafael asked.

“Going to my parents’ for dinner and then timing my exit before they try to guilt me into spending the night. I’ve got younger siblings that wake the entire house up at six in the morning to open presents and I am not about that. There is literally no reason to get up that early on any day, including Christmas Day.”

“Um, to see what Santa brought,” Sebastian said with conviction, earning a chuckle from Rafael.

“Fuck Santa,” Katie replied with a gentle smile.

Rafael and Sebastian both gasped and Katie chuckled as she brought her beer to her lips again.

“Fuck Santa?” Sebastian repeated.

“I mean, I don’t believe in Santa anymore than the next person, but I have to admit he represents cheer and warmth,” Rafael said.

“Yeah, come on, kids love Santa and it’s great to see them so excited about some chunky, red-suited guy bringing them presents,” the pianist added.

“Even if it is technically breaking and entering,” Rafael said.

Sebastian nodded in chuckle. “And despite the fact that eventually the dream of Santa will die when someone inevitably tells them he’s not real.”

“You guys are too much,” Katie said with a giggle.

“Last call!” they heard Casper announce from behind the bar.

“You wanna get outta here?” Sebastian asked, looking over at Rafael, who nodded before taking a final sip from his drink.

“Oh sure, leave me with Mr. Grinch,” Katie teased.

“Good night, Katie,” the pianist replied with a grin before he turned to Rafael.

“It was good to see you again, Katie,” Rafael said, smiling at the brunette.

“You too. Goodnight,” she replied.

THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE 2013

The chill outside was barely noticeable to Sebastian as he and Rafael walled to Rockefeller Center to admire the huge Christmas tree. It was something the musician had done every Christmas, sometimes with Edna, other times--most times, due to the freezing weather--alone but he was ecstatic to be continuing the tradition with Rafael.

As they came upon the 94-foot tree, their fingers intertwined at their sides, Sebastian leaned against the railing that framed the ice rink and let his eyes roam the majestic, multi-colored Norway Spruce. They stared in a comfortable silence as below them, people skated in pairs on the ice rink. As was typical during the holiday season, the air was dense with laughter and love, things that Sebastian thrived on.

“I never get tired of seeing this tree,” Rafael said as he took a side-step closer towards Sebastian and wrapped an arm around his waist.

“I know, it’s the most beautiful part of the city this time of year,” the musician answered. “I’ve never gone skating here though, fuck that line.”

Rafael laughed, nodding. “I’m not much for ice skating either. Honestly, I’d probably fall flat on my face.”

“Yeah, same here. Skating is young man’s game,” Sebastian teased in a chuckle. Tearing his eyes away from the tree, he looked over at Rafael. “Thanks for coming with me.”

“Of course,” the ADA replied as he met Sebastian’s gaze. “I wouldn’t pass up a chance to spend time with you.”

“Me neither.”

The corner of Rafael’s lips curled as he rocked forward, catching the pianist’s pout with his own in a firm kiss before they each turned their eyes back to the massive tree before them.

“Barba?” he heard from behind them and Sebastian turned to see a tall, bundled up brunette with the most striking eyebrows he’d ever seen. Her mouth curled into a gentle smirk as she glanced at him before turning her chestnut eyes back to Rafael. “I didn’t think ADA’s appreciated the tree at Rockefeller center.”

“I do have a life, Olivia,” Rafael answered with a matching smirk.

“I guess so,” she said, looking to the pianist again. “You must be Sebastian.”

The pianist blinked, turning to face her as he held a hand out. “Yeah, that’d be me...I’m guessing you’re Olivia?”

“I am. Barba...talks a lot about you,” she replied.

He grinned, feeling his heart swell in his chest as he shifted his gaze to the man beside him. He could see Rafael’s cheeks grow red and placed a hand on the small of the prosecutor’s back.

“You here with Cassidy?” Rafael asked, clearly wanting to change the subject.

“No, actually, I uh…” Olivia turned her face away for a moment as if to collect herself, but Sebastian could feel the tense energy radiating from her. “I just thought I’d go for a walk and…” She paused again, looking back at them with a forced smile. “...ended up here.”

The pianist gave a sideways glance to Rafael and his face fell slowly when he saw the ADA’s somber expression. Turning his attention back to Olivia, he gave her a warm smile. “I was just gonna suggest we get out of the cold and get something hot to drink. Would you wanna join us?”

She looked surprised as her mouth fell open as if to respond, though no sound escaped until she glanced at Rafael. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

Sebastian bobbed his shoulders, setting his eyes on the ADA. “I don’t mind.”

“Me neither,” Rafael echoed, trying to smile. “Come with us. Really.”

“I appreciate the invitation, but I should really get home,” Olivia replied. “It was very nice to meet you, Sebastian.”

The pianist smiled and nodded once. “Yeah, you too. Hope we see each other again.”

“I hope so too.” She shifted her eyes to Rafael. “I’ll see you around, Barba.”

“Take care, Liv,” Rafael replied, watching her turn and walk away. The ADA sighed before looking at Sebastian.

“Liv...is that the same Liv that you were upset with not too long ago?”

“Yes,” Rafael answered.

“You never talked to her about the whole dinner party thing, did you?” Sebastian wondered as the corner of his lips curled upward. He had sensed an unspoken tension between the prosecutor and his coworker from the moment she’d walked up and could only imagine there being one reason for that.

“No,” Rafael in another sigh. “She’s been through a lot the last few months, I didn’t want to add on to that by making her feel guilty.”

The pianist frowned and gently squeezed Rafael’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that. She okay?”

The prosecutor bobbed his shoulders slowly. “I’m not sure. She says she is, but...I wonder sometimes.”

Pulling the ADA closer, Sebastian kissed his cheek. “You’re a good friend.”

Turning his head to brush his nose against that of the musician’s, Rafael smiled. “Wanna get out of the cold?”

Sebastian nodded and kissed the ADA’s pout, humming when a trickle of warmth fell over his frame.

“So you talk about me?’ he asked playfully, lacing his fingers with Rafael’s.

The ADA grinned, cheeks growing rosy again. “Yes. I have.”

Sebastian smiled and gently squeezed the other man’s hand. He could hear Casper’s words in his mind to reel in his emotions, but his heart ignored the reasoning of his brain as it swelled with love for the prosecutor. He just had to keep himself from saying it out loud any time soon.

CHRISTMAS EVE 2013

“What time are you supposed to be going to Edna’s?” Casper asked from his place on the couch in Sebastian's apartment. Every years since they were in college, he and the pianist had spent Christmas Eve day together before going to their respective families homes for the evening. It had become a tradition without very much effort on either of their parts.

“Five thirty,” Sebastian called out from the kitchen as he put his enchiladas into the oven and set the timer. “You should’ve invited Katie over with you.”

“Why? It’s always been just us,” Casper answered. “Besides, I don’t see Rafael here either.”

“Hey, speaking of which, what was up with you the other night?” Sebastian asked, going into the fridge for a couple of beers.

“What are you talking about?”

“What am I talking about? A few weeks ago you were hounding me for a formal introduction, then last night, you barely even looked at him,” Sebastian replied, handing his friend one of the beers as he sat down on the other end of the couch.

“Yeah, I thought about it more and I figured maybe it’s better to wait until you guys are actually dating, like together, like boyfriends before he starts meeting your friends,” Casper answered.

“Katie met him.”

“Yeah, but Katie’s different. I’m your friend since forever, Katie’s known you about as long as she’s known me,” Casper said. “Meeting acquaintances is no big deal, but meeting your best friend, that’s right up there with meeting your brother.”

Sebastian grinned, nodding his head. “So, I guess you and Katie are actually dating then.”

“Whoa--”

“--You just said…” He smirked as Casper sighed heavily. “...that meeting a best friend is like meeting a brother--which, by the way, I agree--and that you shouldn’t meet Rafael until he’s actually my boyfriend. So, since Katie and I have not only met but been friends since you two have been sleeping together, that must mean you’re dating.”

“Fuck you and your deductive reasoning,” Casper groaned.

“Why are you so damn afraid of calling her your girlfriend? She’s a great girl and she likes you, despite the fact that you’re a neanderthal,” Sebastian said. “It’s time.”

“Shit or get off the pot.”

“Exactly,” the pianist replied with a slow nod.

Casper groaned again, letting his head fall back against the cushions of the couch. “I just don’t want things to get weird, you know? I mean, we already live together. What if after I give her the girlfriend title, she starts talking about getting married, having kids? I mean, shit, man, I’m not ready for that.”

“Maybe she’s not either,” Sebastian replied.

“Women are always ready for that,” Casper said with a pointed look.

Sebastian held up his finger as he took a sip from his beer with the opposite hand. “That’s sexist.”

“Maybe, but it’s true. I’m telling you, man, as soon as you’re living together, their ovaries fucking explode.”

“Come on,” Sebastian replied with a chuckle. “You’re thirty-fucking-six years old.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means, if you don’t get over being such a damn commitment-phobe, you’re gonna end up alone,” the musician answered.

“I am not. A commitment-phobe,” Casper said.

“I call bullshit,” Sebastian mumbled. “You are a commitment-phobe.”

The bartender sighed heavily, taking a drink as he tried to focus on the confrontation on the TV screen. “Okay...maybe.”

“Maybe,” Sebastian replied, taking a sip from his own beer. “What the hell are we watching?”

Casper smirked softly, looking over at his best friend and inhaling slowly as he let his eyes back to the TV. “Jersey Shore, the...second season, I think?”

Sebastian furrowed his brows as he looked over at Casper. “You watch Jersey Shore?”

“Yeah, Katie got me into it...it’s actually a pretty interesting social experiment about what happens when you mix vacation brain with alcohol and the younger generation.”

Sebastian couldn’t help the wheeze-like laugh that swelled in his throat and turned into a staccato sort of cackle. “Social experiment.”

“Laugh it up, asshole. So, what’d you end up getting for Rafael?”

Groaning under his breath, Sebastian sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “A shirt...a tshirt, it’s a tshirt.”

“You got him a tshirt?” Casper asked, knitting his brows. “What happened to the thoughtful gift you wanted to get him? Wow, I mean this has got to be a first. You’re usually the king of gift-giving.”

“I mean, it says Coffee is my spirit animal,” Sebastian replied. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? God, what the hell was I thinking? He doesn’t even wear tshirts.”

Casper caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes lowering for a moment. “How much time does the enchilada have?”

“I dunno, probably five or ten minutes,” the musician replied in a sigh.

“Okay, when you get it out, we’re gonna go out and get Rafael another gift.”

“It’s Christmas Eve, where the hell are we gonna find another gift? Most places close early--”

“--Don’t worry about that, I got a guy,” Casper replied.

“You got a guy,” Sebastian repeated.

“I got a guy. Just get your damn enchilada out of the oven and trust me,” Casper answered. “You trust me?”

“Always.”

“Alright, then shut your mouth and get your dish outta the oven,” Casper replied as he stood up and shut the TV off.

CHRISTMAS DAY NIGHT 2013

After a day at his mother’s brownstone, Rafael took a cab home to pick up Sebastian’s gift, which he had spent more than a day picking out and walked down the street towards the musician’s apartment. He could hear the crunch of every step as snowflakes continued to fall from the sky and wondered whether his grandmother had been right when once again at dinner, his relationship status had been brought into conversation. He wasn’t old by any stretch, but he certainly wasn’t getting any younger and it made him consider how long he and Sebastian had been in such close proximity. He felt thankful for having met the musician and yet couldn’t help but wonder how much time they had lost that they could’ve spent together.

As he reached the top of the narrow staircase just outside the pianist’s apartment, he let out a breath and knocked on the door, butterflies forming in the pit of his stomach when he heard movement from inside the apartment. The door opened and the fluttering in his belly grew more pronounced at the sight of the fitted thermal shirt that hugged Sebastian’s muscles and jeans that hung loosely over his hips.

Rafael felt a stir in his belly as he step forward and smiled, lips touching lips in silent greeting. A gentle shock from the kiss pulled a moan from deep within him and it wasn’t long before his head tilted, tongue requesting entrance with a soft flick against Sebastian’s pout. Strong hands slid across his ribs and the pianist pulled him flush against a solid wall of muscle. Trembling arms wrapped around the musician, his fingers slipped through Sebastian’s soft, blonde hair as the two stumbled into the apartment.

He heard the door shut behind him and forced himself to pull away, breathless. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Sebastian replied as he smiled at the ADA. “How was dinner?”

“It was fine,” he said. “I missed you yesterday.”

Blue eyes lit up with the grin that the pianist aimed his way. “I missed you too but I have to admit that kiss was definitely worth it.” His hands came up and loosely took hold of Rafael’s coat, pulling him closer. “You want a drink?”

“Yes, please,” Rafael replied in a sigh. As Sebastian went into the kitchen, Rafael took off his jacket and hung it up on the coat rack before he went to sit on the couch.

“I got some eggnog yesterday and some hot chocolate,” Sebastian said from the kitchen. “Which do you want?”

“Eggnog sounds good,” Rafael replied.

His mind was going a mile a minute, hand that wasn’t holding his gift for Sebastian fidgeting with the hem of his sweater, then the legs of his fitted jeans. On one hand, he’d been happy with their decision to take things slowly with regard to physical intimacy. But on the other hand, he had been finding it extremely difficult to stop thinking about wanting to feel Sebastian’s hard, naked body against his. He would find himself laying awake a night with images of the pianist’s narrow hips rocking against his backside, groaning against his pulse point as Rafael’s fingers kneaded the muscles in the musician’s back. He itched to feel Sebastian’s cock pushing inside him, reaching the place that hadn’t been touched by another man in so long.

Clearing his throat gently, Rafael shifted in his seat as the pianist came to sit beside him, handing his a glass of eggnog.

“You okay?” Sebastian asked, scooting back o  the cushions.

“Yeah,” Rafael answered as he offered a smile, gesturing to the eggnog. “Thank you.” He took a sip from the glass.

“Sure,” the pianist answered, turning to reach beneath the tiny tree that sat on the end table beside the couch. “I, uh, I got you something.” He took up the small, narrow, neatly wrapped box.

“I got you something too,” Rafael replied with a smirk, holding up the envelope he’d brought with him and handing it to Sebastian as the musician gave him the box.

Placing their eggnogs on the coffee table, they shared a glance before they each began to open their respective gifts. Sebastian pulled out two tickets to an off-Broadway musical and grinned.

“I’ve been wanting to see this,” he said with a chuckle.

“I know, Katie told me,” Rafael answered as his cheeks grew hot. “I thought we could go together.”

“What a little sneak.” Sebastian looked up at Rafael with a smirk and nodded. “Thank you. I’d love to go with you.” His eyes fell to the half-opened gift in Rafael’s hands and he passed a hand over the hair on the back of his head when the ADA continued to open it. “You can return them if you want--”

“--Don’t be ridiculous,” Rafael answered as he looked down at the black box with Bombas written across it. Opening the box, he took out three pairs of dress socks, each with different patterns and colors. “I love them.”

“Shit, really?” Sebastian replied in a surprised chuckle.

“Yes. Thank you,” Rafael said, leaning forward to press his lips against Sebastian’s. A jolt went through his chest, traveling to his stomach and resting in his hips.

A shiver fell over his shoulders, forming into a tingle that settled below his belt when the tip of a wet tongue licked against his lips. Tilting his head, he granted the pianist entrance and moaned when he felt a strong hand lay against his chest over his pounding heart. He felt his shaft stir in his pants as Sebastian hand slid up to his neck, then back down over his heart. Unable to keep his hands still, Rafael set the socks aside and pulled the musician closer with a sweaty palm on the back of his head, fingers sliding through the pianist’s soft curls. He could practically hear the the thumping of his heart in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the city coming from just outside the window by the piano and his skin grew hot as his hips arched as if to find contact.

The hand not occupied by Sebastian’s hair wedged between the musician’s side and the couch, wrapping around his lower back to bring their chests together. A gentle vibration from Sebastian’s hum buzzed against his lips, sending another tingle to his shaft. Rafael could feel a pool of wetness forming on his underwear as his cock slowly began to fill with arousal. Just as he had when he’d first arrived, the ADA pried himself away from the other man’s pout, breath heavy through his lips. He could smell both his own and Sebastian’s arousal in the stuffy room and feel drops of sweat running down the center of his chest beneath his sweater.

Still, when the musician rocked forward to begin their kiss anew, he placed a hand on Sebastian’s chest, applying the slightest bit of pressure. “If I start kissing you again, I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop.”

“What if I don’t want you to?” Sebastian asked in a low voice as the hand on the ADA’s chest dropped to his mid-thigh.

Rafael’s eyes were fixed on Sebastian’s pout as he licked his own lips, catching the bottom petal between his teeth. He wanted it. It was fairly clear that the blonde also wanted it, but still he couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“Should we talk about the hard on in the room?” Sebastian teased, earning a chuckle from Rafael.

“Trust me, there’s not just one in the room,” Rafael replied. “But yes, let’s talk.”

He watched Sebastian’s adam’s apple travel up and back down as the musician swallowed and nodded, moving back to put some space between them. Rafael’s arms trembled as cold air hit him and he shifted in his seat again in attempts to discreetly rearrange the partially-erect appendage in his pants.

“Last time I was tested was four months ago, full panel,” Rafael said between heavy breaths. “And I’m clean.”

“Three months ago. Full panel, also clean,” Sebastian answered as the hand draped on the back of the couch fell to allow his fingers to make contact with the other man’s neck . “And I’m on PrEP.”

“So am I,” Rafael replied as he moved closer to the pianist and placed a hand on his knee. His next question would be the deciding factor as to whether they would be sexually compatible and he could feel his heart in his throat as he took a deep breath. “My diet generally consists of high fiber. How about you?”

“No, but I like to bottom every once in a while so I usually keep an enema kit handy just in case the mood hits,” Sebastian answered. “I can dig light kink, but none of the hardcore stuff.”

“Me too,” Rafael replied with a smile. “It’s been a while for me so…”

“For me too,” Sebastian replied as one of fingers stroked the lobe of Rafael’s ear. “Slow...ish?”

“Ish,” Rafael whispered, smirking.

His eyes held those of the musician’s for a heavily silent beat before Rafael rocked forward to close the space between them again. Driven by the wanton hunger in the pit of his stomach, he moved his hand to the back of Sebastian’s head and gripped a fistful of hair as the musician pushed him onto his back on the couch. As the pianist’s lips made a hot path over his jaw and down to his neck, Rafael moaned and slipped his free hand under Sebastian’s thermal, bucking his hips upward as his frame buzzed with the feel of hard muscle pressed against him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Sebastian purred against his pulse point, sending another jolt to his shaft. His ass tensed as a hand gripped the side of one cheek and the ADA instinctively wrapped his leg around the other man’s hip, using the leverage to pull Sebastian’s body harder against him.

“Take this off, I wanna feel you,” Rafael whispered, bunching the other man’s thermal over his back. He whimpered as Sebastian lifted his upper body enough to whip his shirt off and exposing his chiseled torso. The ADA groaned as his fingers toyed with the thick tufts of hair that splayed the majority of the pianist’s chest and stomach. “God, you’re so sexy.”

Moaning beneath a half-smile, Sebastian pushed up to his knees as he reached for Rafael’s sweater and pulled it off. Sitting up to allow for his undershirt to be pulled off as well, Rafael leaned forward to kiss over the blonde’s stomach. He made a wet path to one nipple and earned a moan from the musician as he tugged on the ADA’s undershirt, pulling it off and cupping his face as he bent for another hungry kiss.

Rafael’s hands fumbled with the other man’s belt, one paw moving to stroke over the outline of Sebastian’s erection.

“Fuck, Raf,” the musician hissed as he reached down to return the favor, rubbing over the wet spot on the ADA’s jeans as their lips and tongues tangled.

Bringing his hand to join the other, Rafael unfastened the pianist’s jean, carefully pulling the zipper down. He felt the button of his own pants being unfastened and let out a hum of relief, furrowing his brows when he felt Sebastian stand.

“Come here,” the pianist whispered, eyes half-mast as he pulled Rafael to stand in front of him and pressed their lips together again. Unzipping his jeans, Sebastian slid his hand beneath the denim to grab the ADA’s ass.

“Fuck! Don’t, that makes me too hot,” Rafael moaned against the musician's lips.

Sebastian chuckled as his hand retreated. “Okay.”

The prosecutor pushed the other man’s jeans down, watching as he stepped of out each leg before pressing their lips together again. Toeing out of his shoes, Rafael moaned as the pianist tugged at his pants until they were in a pool on the floor behind him. Without warning, Sebastian wrapped one arm around his waist while the opposite hand curled under his knee and picked him up as though the ADA were made of air. Reflexively, Rafael wrapped his other leg around the pianist's hip and looked down with surprise.

“Oh my God,” Rafael groaned as Sebastian carefully laid him back on the couch, settling on top of him. He could feel the urge to have the other man inside of him intensify as his hole clenched in desire. “You’re really making me wanna get fucked right now,” he purred. His legs tightened around the other man’s hips, arching his own in attempts to gain stimulation where he most wanted it.

“Sh, sh,” Sebastian sounded against his lips, taking Rafael’s wrists and bringing them over his head. “Just hold onto that for a second,” he whispered, bringing his own hand to gently nudge the ADA’s legs off his hips before he reached between them and pulled the front of the prosecutor’s boxer briefs down, exposing the stiff muscle beneath.

Rafael’s hands gripped the arm of the couch behind him as a strong, calloused hand wrapped around his cock and stroked, smearing his precum over his shaft. His back arched, hips bucking upward as his teeth dug into his bottom lip and his eyes closed. He felt the pianist’s warm breath over his pout and lifted his head for a slow, passion-fueled kiss as the hand moved away. Rafael whimpered at the loss of stimulation, arching his hips to find it again only to be met with something smoother, harder, much slicker than the hand had been.

Growling against Sebastian’s lips, Rafael ground against the other man’s body, his carnal lust finding the perfect satisfaction in their movements, one against the other. Sweat now in abundance, the amount of friction became just enough to sate his hunger yet leave him wanting--no, needing--more. He ground faster against the pianist, who responded by grinding harder and Rafael’s arms wrapped around the other man. The fingers of one hand slid through damp blonde hair as their kisses became increasingly wanton and wet, a hurricane of lips and tongues fueling a perfect storm between their bodies.

A sting in the corner of his eye made him fully aware of the heat sparking from their movements and the only sounds he could hear were their heavy breaths and wetness between their hips. The wordlessness of their coupling made him dizzy with lust as he was brought closer and closer to oblivion, head tilting to taste the salty skin of Sebastian’s neck. Despite being pinned down by the weight of the man above him, Rafael had never felt stronger as their thrusts became frenzied, his focus being narrowed to Sebastian’s cock, hot, wet and throbbing against his.

“Fuck, Sebastian,” he let out in a trembling whisper, earning an animal-like moan from the man above him.

Their arms wrapped tightly around the other, containing the fire between their thrusting hips as Rafael lost control, moaning louder and digging his short nails into the musician’s slippery back as his cock pulsed and fluid burst from it’s tip. Not long after, Sebastian’s voice joined in the deafening bellows of their orgasms as more hot essence shot between them, coating their stomachs and chests in the evidence of their climax. Rafael trembled as his body experienced jolt after jolt of pleasure, releasing the knot of desire that had been built in him when they’d begun their dance.

Their foreheads pressed together, eyes closed to keep the sweat out, their hips gradually slowed, wanting to prolong their bliss as long as possible. And when Sebastian tilted his chin forward to kiss him, a whirlwind of emotions fell over him as if reconnecting with a lover from a previous life. His heart swelled with warmth as the musician collapsed on top of him.

Turning his head, Rafael pressed a kiss to the pianist’s forehead, unable to remember when he’d ever felt more content than he did in that moment and he lost track of how long they stayed that way, limp, unable and unwilling to move.

Slowly, Sebastian pushed himself up to meet the ADA’s eyes and brushed the man’s nose with his own before meeting his lips again in a gentle kiss.

“Merry Christmas,” Sebastian teased with a smirk, gaining a chuckle from the man beneath him.

“Merry Christmas.”

#rafael barba #rafael barba x male #the prosecutor and the piano bar #rabastian

[bevetm-blog]

[Fic] No Words

Sooooo I’m new to the ship and I wrote a little thing to ease myself into it. SOMEONE MAKE FRIENDS WITH ME PLEASE. I’m cute and I’m only a little ways above begging.

Established relationship. Absent Billy. Tired, pining Steve. Dustin making things better. And worse. At the same time. ~1200w

Read on AO3 or down below!

“Sure thing, Mrs. Henderson. Yeah, no - no, it’s not a problem. I’ll be there. Not at all. Yeah - yeah, you too. Bye.”

It’s already dark when Steve pulls up to the Byers home to pick up Dustin. Though he’s happy to do Mrs Henderson this favor whenever she’s tending to the new Henderson cat’s periodic freakouts (especially because Steve knows why the cat has freakouts), he wishes he could have gone straight home today. It’s been a long shift and he’s tired and irritable, not least because Billy’s been in California for four days now, sorting out whatever shit he didn’t want Steve along for, didn’t even want to talk to Steve about, after attending an old friend’s funeral. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’ll call again tonight and he’ll be fine, his laugh a little shaky and his silences a little long but he’s fine. He’ll be home soon. 

Steve takes a deep breath and sighs it back out. The car is already cooling down as he finally gets out and jogs into the house, letting himself in right after knocking and almost running straight into Joyce.

It’s a full house. From the number of voices shrieking and laughing behind Will’s half-open bedroom door, it sounds like the party’s all there. As Steve stands in the kitchen declining all offers of drinks, snacks, and dinner from a slightly harangued-looking Joyce, Will ambles in and deposits an armful of empty soda cans in the trash. 

“Hi, Steve,” Will says, half-lifting a hand in a little wave. “I’ll tell Dustin you’re here.”

“Hey, yeah, thanks. How’s it going?”

Will shrugs, looks away. “You know. Pretty good. Did you talk to Billy? Since he left, I mean?”

Of course he knows. Everyone always knows. Steve scrubs at his hair. ”Yeah - yeah, he calls. He says hi to everyone.” Billy hadn’t.

Will nods seriously. He looks tired, too, but - better. Healthy tired, Steve thinks. 

“Cool. El kept talking about him the other day but, uh, she said he’s okay. You know, mostly. I guess you probably know. Uh. Anyway - I’ll go get Dustin.”

“Thanks, kid.”

Steve rubs his eyes. Joyce has returned to her slightly frenzied dinner prep, and Steve wonders absently how many of the kids are staying. He decides to leave her to it, heading back into the living room where Nancy is huddling on the sofa with Jonathan. She smiles warmly when he walks in.

“Joyce dragged you into that kitchen so fast I couldn’t even say hi. How are you holding up? Are you staying for dinner?”

“I’m - yeah, no, I’m headed straight back. Dustin’s mom wants him home.”

The “and I want this day to be over” remains unspoken, but Nancy pulls a sympathetic face anyway. “How’s Billy?”

“He’s, he’s okay. You know. Dealing with shit. He calls every night. I mean, he doesn’t tell me much. But he calls.”

“Good. I’m glad.”

“Yeah, well.”

Steve can almost feel the energy in the room shift as Dustin bounces in. Probably polished off half of that soda all by himself. 

“Steve, my bude!”

Steve frowns. “Yeah, already lost. Brother dude?”

“Uh, no, that would obviously be brude. My best dude! Which is you. Also obviously.”

“Yeah, real obvious,” Steve mutters. Dustin has, for inscrutable Dustin reasons, decided that the new thing to do is mash words together. He doesn’t seem to intend it to be annoying - probably thinks it’s cool. But it’s definitely annoying. Steve has no idea what’s going on most of the time.

“Nanceathan! What’s up?” Dustin grins.

“Nanceathan?” It’s hard to tell whether Jonathan and Nancy, responding in perfect unison, are more amused or more exasperated.

Steve snorts. “Nanceathan - if they can’t do it, no one can.” He throws up half-hearted jazz hands to go with the lame joke. “Right, dipshit, let’s go. It’s late.”

“Shit, wait, I forgot my plards in the lair.” With that, Dustin sprints off.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Steve says to the air. “And lair? Lounge... chair? Wait. Actual lair. God, this shit messes with my head.”

“So plards is fine?” 

Steve rolls his eyes as he turns to Jonathan. “Figured that one out two days ago. Shit, how are you guys? Pretend I asked when I came in.”

Jonathan smiles. “Don’t worry about it. We’re good. Thinking of catching a movie tomorrow night, if you want to come?”

Steve does not want to do anything. If nothing else, Dustin’s timing is impeccable: he jogs back into the room just as Steve opens his mouth and realizes he’s really about to start talking without a decent excuse ready. 

“Sorry, my liege,” says Dustin, stuffing some cards into his pocket. “By the way, man, how’s Killy?”

“Jesus, Dustin -”

Dustin throws his hands up, alarmed. “Just King Billy, dude. Chill. I maybe didn’t think that through.”

“You’re gonna want to unlearn that one before he gets back,” Steve says, still incredulous.

Dustin nods slowly. “Yep. Yes. I will... do that.” He brightens. “So, only a couple more days right? Till, uh, Billy comes back I mean.” He waits a beat. “To the Stansion.”

Steve sighs, gestures at Dustin to elaborate. “The...”

“The Stilly mansion. Stilly, as in -”

“Okay, Stilly? Dustin? Really? That’s terrible.”

“It’s terrible that you can’t appreciate linguenius.”

Steve just stares at him blankly.

“Harringrove,” Nancy offers suddenly, looking up at them from the sofa. She’s wearing that quietly pleased look that still makes Steve’s chest feel warm and full to bursting. It takes him a second, but then he feels a small grin pull at his mouth. “Wow, Nance. Nice. That actually sounds like something.”

Dustin rolls his eyes. “Yeah, like something overpriced that moms buy.”

“No way, man. It sounds nice. I like it.”

“Dude, Steve, whatever. You guys aren’t smooth enough to be called Harringrove. You’re Stilly. Don’t shoot the messenger.”

“Guys,” comes Jonathan’s voice from next to Nancy. He’s definitely trying not to laugh, and Steve eyes him warily. “Guys. Listen. It’s Beve. They’re Beve.”

“Oh my God.” Dustin’s hands fly into his hair. “Beve!”

Steve watches, resigned, as laughter overtakes the little shit until he collapses onto the floor, where he continues to gasp for breath and occasionally utter high-pitched, tearful little “Beeeve!”s. 

Steve waits for him to calm down. It’s not even that funny. Kids are ridiculous and this is ridiculous. As Dustin regains his breath and - somewhat - his composure, Steve catches his eye just as inspiration evidently strikes. Dustin opens his mouth and Steve groans.

“Beve it or leave it. Beve or grieve. Too Beve to believe. You guys - you guys are my pet Beve. Beve achieved!”

“Dustin,” says Steve. He’s so tired. This isn’t funny. Jonathan and Nancy are both cackling. Steve definitely isn’t smiling. He drops his head into his hands, lest that little dipshit see him—okay, smiling, and take it as his cue to continue. “None of that makes any sense.” 

“No reprieve from the Beve!”

“Oohh my God. Jesus. Okay, that’s it. We are leaving, and you are never using words again."

Steve is still grinning when he gets home. To the Stansion.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things #fic #harringrove fic #harringrove fanfiction #fanfiction #womp womp #stilly #beve #might as well tag em #ao3

[not-just-any-fangirl]

I would love to hear more about your NaLu son, I adore when they have a son

hoooo boy nonny. Are you ready? cus I sure as FUCK am

Igneel Dragneel

aka, Elly

because Elly could not believe his parents actually named him fucking Igneel Dragneel

he understands it’s after his deceased grandpa dragon but ffs his name is ‘Igneel Dragon-Igneel’ wtf mom

Elly is the first born, and as such, has decided it is his job to protect his little baby sisters from the gross men of the world. 

it is the world that needs protection from his baby sisters

they are literal fucking demons okay like imagine Natsu as a tween with Lucy’s cunning and intelligence

it is

bad

His hair has a pink tinge in the sun but mostly looks like a reddy blond. He usually keeps it short and with either one or both sides shaved. He has his father’s eyes and his mother’s nose

He has three ear piercings all in his left ear

His guild mark stamp is between his shoulder blades and is gold

Elly realizes he is gay when he is six and his best-friend-five-ever is talking about how cute Dreyar is and Elly wholeheartedly agrees. The two spend their recess planning the joint marriage to this poor boy, Azure Redfox in a pretty white dress and Elly in a pretty white suit and Dreyar in a black suit.

its basically that shitty ‘x has two hands’ meme but schoolyard love version

Elly can be very set in his ideas

see; his little sisters can do no wrong

like objectively he is aware that if something explodes within a ten mile radius it’s probably Luna, but he is always very confident there was a good reason for it

the reason was that a random dude stole her coffee from the basically-starbucks shop and she called a firey storm of righteous fury from the sky and blew him to shit

if he decides you’re a good person you could kill a man in front of him and he’d help you hide the body

alternatively, if he decides he doesn’t like you, you better buckle the FUCK in for one hell of a bumpy ride to change that idea

The boy has Natsu’s hatred of change and it drives his mother up the wall

He also has Lucy’s imagination and zero tolerance for bullshit attitude

Elly LOVES spicy food but he can also only take three bites before it gets to much and he needs to chug the milk gallon

Elly has a stuffed dragon he calls Mr. Scales and he will cut a bitch if they look at him the wrong way. 

so what if a wing has had to be sown on five separate times and it’s faded and black glass eyes are so scratched they’re grey it is his friend and he has aged like fine wine 

The easiest way to get Elly to do something is to tell him not to do it and give him no reason as to why not

If you explain to him he is likely to see the logic or at least respect you more for treating him like a fucking human but if you say ‘bcus I said so’ you can bet your ass he’s gonna climb to the top of the bell tower from the outside and fucking hit the lunch gong at 11:16 and fuck everyone’s internal clock up

This also manifests as a lot of spite and apathetic rage (how?? who knows) at homophobes

He’s usually lowkey bcus it was never made a big deal of in his family and you don’t see normal boys being extra straight and also while he gets crushes as easily as Lucy he cares for a real relationship about as much as Natsu

Mitsu: Hey, Gail was checking out your ass today

Elly: Oh that’s nice

Tatsu: Yesterday you literally said if you had a womb you’d carry his children

Elly: Yeah but have you seen  Ulijha’s eyes today?? Take me now please you green haired knight of muscle

Mitsu and Tatsu in synchronization: why are you like this

However he will deck out in all leather assless chaps and pride flags if he thinks for a hot second you have a problem with gay people

Lucy helps him bcus she’s so proud of her little boy standing up to bigots and she doesn’ for a second doubt his ability to punch out a motherfucker if someone tried to make it physical 

But he will do it in a way where the person is unsure if it’s just ironic timing or if Elly is being a Bitter Bitch and being passive aggressive

Elly gets irritated easily over minor things but that goes as quickly as it comes. Now if you really piss him off you won’t know until he snaps and then cuts you out of his life. Boy can hold a grudge. 

He may have inherited many things from his parents but forgiveness to the point of being a flaw is not one of them. 

There will be consequences if you’ve fucked up

Very, very, cold and painful consequences

MAGIC

Elly decides he wants to be a dragon slayer like his father, but fire always seemed so volatile to him and brash

he was always entranced with the winter and snow and Uncle Gray’s creation and manipulation of ice

Natsu is. Betrayed

how dare his own flesh and blood prefer to be like that Dick-sicle than his own father???

Lucy has to remind him that it was Natsu’s idea to make Gray the godfather of his children

Natsu asks how that has any relevance

Elly perfected his ‘do you see the shit I have to put up with?’ at a very early age due to his mother’s conversations with his father and mimicking her facial expressions

When Elly is twelve he asks if Gray can help train him alongside Natsu so he could practice both skills. 

Elly takes to ice like Luna to fire. His rate of learning and mastering dragon slayer techniques skyrockets, and over the years he also manages to combine lighting and ice dragon slayer magic, and shadow and ice dragon slayer techniques. 

Oh how the next generation builds on the work of their parents

Gray brings his son Tenkiame to the training session

Elly has known Tenten since he was born, but watching the nine month older boy train Awakens Things. 

Elly works even harder to train and get stronger to impress Tenkiame. He may also be a tad bit competitive and legit just wants to surpass him, but it’s mainly trying to get his attention and impress him. 

The first time he performs a successful Roar of the Ice Dragon he accidentally pins Tenkiame to the guild wall. 

Tenkiame doesn’t stop complain-bragging about it to everyone for a week

Elly is a flustered and mortified mess. 

As the years pass the crush fades but never fully goes away, but the boys grow to be inseparable. 

Tenkiame makes the first move and kisses him and Elly runs away for a month as he tries to process his emotions and the major change in his world

He runs away to Natsu’s old cottage and Lucy rolls her eyes but leaves her dumb seventeen-year-old son alone

He comes back with his tail between his legs and has a long and painfully awkward conversation with Tenkiame bcus even tho he’s Lucy’s son he is also Natsu’s and the boy does not use words to explain his emotions well

Tenkiame, however, can translate dumb dragon and listens patiently. 

Tenkiame has inherited his mother’s steadfast determination of ‘wait and the boy will come to you if you wear him down enough’

For most missions the group is Elly, Tenkiame, Azure and her fellow triplets; Aegen and Admirl. 

yes the triplets are named after shades of blue starting with A

Levy is a fucking linguist nerd what are you expecting here

Elly also goes on family missions with his sisters and it usually costs the guild a shit ton and a ver sincerely written letter of apology to whatever own they half destroyed

those trips are his favourite

bcus the boy will Kill for his sisters and they are his closest friends

Their favourite thing to say is ‘you’re like family to me’, and the other responding in the flattest voice ‘we are family numb nuts’

Tatsu: Mitsu, when you show me such devotion I can’t help but feel as though you truly are my sister

Mitsu: We’re twins dipshit. We shared our mother’s womb.

Mitsu: Also it’s a donut please chill for minute of your life

Elly: Did someone ask a Dragneel to chill?

Mitsu and Tatsu: No one asked you go and be gross in your boyfriend’s lap

Elly :(

Luna, without any emotion: oh my, whatever could be so delightful as a chilled Dragneel child. 

Elly: :D

Elly: You know, Lulu, if I were to have any siblings I feel in my soul that you would truly be my favourite sister

This got super long I’m sorry. It’s developed into a major shit post please take this before it get’s worse

#ft next gen #fairy tail #nalu #Anon #just any answers #just any hcs #Elly dragneel

[kdinthecity]

Zutara Week 2017: Confessions of a Teenage Sugar Queen

The title is a throwback to a movie I liked when I was in high school, so that is the voice I’ve chosen for this AU. (Not Lindsay Lohan’s from the movie, just me trying to channel my inner teenage Katara...)

All of my @zutaraweek submissions will be part of one continuous story. Get ready for some slow-burn Zutara angst starting with Day One: Fire Lady.

“I can’t wait until summer!” A blur of orange brushes past me in the school hallway. “I’m gonna go hang gliding and kite surfing and eat ice cream for breakfast and donuts for lunch!”

That would be Aang. He lives with his head in the clouds on most days.

“Let me guess. Cream puffs for dinner, Twinkletoes?”

Toph is pretty solid for a freshman. She keeps Aang grounded when he starts to get too flighty. I like hanging out with them, but sometimes their immaturity annoys me. I can tell this is one of those moments. No one can eat dessert all day. Talk about a serious sugar crash.

“What about you, Sugar Queen?” Toph asks.

I don’t know why she calls me that. OK, maybe I suggested once that I could survive solely on fudgsicles and moon pies, but that was only after that bad breakup with Jet. Toph elbows me hard in the ribs, her usual gesture for getting my attention.

“Oww! I have plans this summer, alright? I can’t just goof off. I’m going to get a job and do something that matters for my future!” I hate how haughty that sounds, but I’ve been under a lot of pressure lately. I hurry past them before I say anything I might regret.

“Geez, what’s with her?” Toph mutters. Aang sighs airily in response.

They just don’t get it.

I’m the only sophomore to participate in the school’s summer internship fair this year. My brother calls me crazy. Well, I think he’s crazy because as a junior, it’s his last opportunity to gain this experience for college applications. Yet, he’s blowing it off to go fishing in Alaska with Dad. Maybe Sokka will end up taking over the family business, but I know he’d rather pursue engineering than commercial fishing.

The truth is, Dad cannot provide for our college tuition with his income. Sokka doesn’t think about these things, but I do. I’m getting an internship this summer so I can help pay for stuff like clothes and school lunches. And then hopefully I’ll get a scholarship for a top tier school like Atlas University. I will not be a burden to anyone.

“But what do you mean I can’t get any of the paid internships?” I am nearly in tears as I approach Principal Pakku.

“I’m sorry, Katara, but you’re under the legal working age. You can apply for one of the volunteer positions.”

“I’m a hard worker! And a straight A student!” I want to add that I’d do a better job than half the junior class.

He folds his arms across his chest. “Rules are rules.”

The pale blue of his suit starts to blur in my vision, and my bottom lip trembles, but I refuse to cry in front of this man. “But I'm turning 16 this summer!” My birthday is actually at the end of August. Had I not gone to Montessori kindergarten, I would be an entire grade younger according to the age cutoff for public school.

Ms. Yugoda, the school nurse, senses my distress. “Katara, sweetheart, it will still look good on your college applications, and it will help you land a top notch internship for next year. You still have time.”

“But, I need… the experience.” I will not beg for money.

“There’s nothing I can do.” Principal Pakku claps his hands and rubs them together as if that settles the matter. “I’ll put in a good word for you. How about… the zoo?”

I brush the back of my sleeve across dampened cheeks and stomp my foot. “I do not want to be scooping up ostrich-horse shit all summer!”

The principal’s expression is scolding, but I can’t stand the look of pity Ms. Yugoda is giving me right now. Before I have a chance to apologize for my outburst, Ty Lee sweeps in from the adjoining door that leads to the nurse’s office.

She hooks a bandaged arm through my elbow and escorts me out into the hallway. “What’s an ostrich horse? Sounds… magical!”

Her high-pitched giggle grates on my last nerve. An ostrich horse happens to be an imaginary animal from this fictional world I created. Sometimes I write about characters with amazing abilities to bend the elements. For me, I've always wanted to control water—like command the waves, summon the tides. My earliest memories are of Mom at the beach, so…

“Katara?” The knitted brow and slight frown look out of place on Ty Lee.

“Sorry.”

“You can always join the circus with me!”

“Right.”

I should have asked her what happened to her arm, but apparently I am too self-absorbed today to care about my friends.

“The Marine Science Center has a few openings. Here, take a brochure and see if anything interests you. We are a non-profit organization, so we can’t pay our interns unfortunately, but sometimes our students come back to work for us after they graduate.” The woman has an almost ethereal look about her.

“So… I wouldn’t be cleaning up seal sh—poop? I mean, it’s OK. I just don’t want to do that the whole time.” I cringe, but she smiles.

“No, no. That’s not really a valuable learning experience, is it? I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself. I’m Yue.”

“Katara. Nice to meet you.”

“So, we have a position that works with the medical staff. Most of the marine animals we treat are sick or injured, so we nurse them back to health, tag them, and set them free. Another position studies the water, looking for contaminants and identifying potential threats, like factory pollution, for example. Then, you can work on a government petition to shut those facilities down or enforce environmental safety regulations. And lastly, we have a group that goes to schools, summer camps, and museums to talk about all these things.”

I skim my fingers across the panels of the tri-fold brochure as she speaks. Rehabilitate. Advocate. Educate. I always swore I would never go into fishing, but this is different. I care about the environment. I even organized a beach cleanup day as a community service event for the honor society. (This is how I know the juniors are lazy dipshits.) And I want to be either a professor or a doctor when I grow up, so the experience would be relevant. I take an application, give her my best smile, and express my sincere interest in the positions.

I sign up for a few other things before deciding I’m done. There isn’t much interest in the unpaid internships, and my eyes are drawn to the crowd on the other side of the gym. The largest group gathers at the table for Future Fire Technology. I've heard quite a bit about the company because the CEO’s daughter is in the honor’s track with me. Azula talks nonstop about how the former weapons company has rebranded and now manufactures cutting edge robotics. I couldn’t care less.

Azula will undoubtedly secure a position at her father’s company for the summer. She’s ambitious like that. Her brother, Zuko, will likely work there, too. He strikes me as different somehow—not really the corporate type. He’s not one of the half-assed juniors, though. He’s still pretty intense. I’m a little intrigued by him, but Sokka warns me to leave him be. Well, Sokka can’t tell me who I can and cannot talk to… I just wish I could get up the nerve to… oh monkeyfeathers!

“There aren’t many sophomores here, y’know,” a voice rasps. Zuko is standing right here. Talking to me. Sokka says he never talks to anyone.

“I, uhhh…” I want to slap my forehead for being such a blubbering idiot.

“I saw you at the Marine Science Center table. Sounds cool, huh?”

He was… watching me? The pink that rises to his cheeks would indicate that yes... yes, he was. I'm dying to ask about that mysterious scar across his left eye, but I guess that won’t make the best first impression.

“Katara,” I say.

“What?” he asks, his single brow raised in confusion.

“I’m Katara.” I hold out my hand like a dork.

“Oh, right. Sorry. Zuko.”

We are now shaking hands. Like dorks.

“And yes.” I clear my throat. “The Marine Science Center looks cool. I hope I get it.”

The results are posted the following week. With everyone crowded around the bulletin board outside the gym, it feels like we’re clamoring to see who’s made the basketball team or the cheerleading squad. I’m the only sophomore and of average height, so it takes me a while to wiggle my way to the front so I can see.

There are three names listed for the Marine Science Center.

Me! I got the position I wanted!

Then, Hahn. I don’t really know him, only that Sokka hates him, which should be interesting.

And… Zuko?

I scan the crowd for his unmistakable face, but he’s nowhere to be found. I can’t help but notice the red-clad crew off to the right, however. Azula, Ty Lee, and Mai are all on our school’s beach volleyball team. Either they just came from practice, are headed to a game, or just want an excuse to wear their uniform. Two seniors, Ruon Jion and Chan, hover nearby, enjoying the view. Ty Lee offers a shy wave when she catches my eye.

“Congrats to the newest Future Fire Lady!” Azula salutes Mai.

The dark-haired girl simply huffs. “But Zuko won’t be there. He got some stupid job at a water park.”

I fight the urge to march right up to her and emphasize how respectable and meaningful the Marine Science Center internship is, but the look on Ty Lee’s face stops me. Her bottom lip protrudes in a full-on pout, and I remember that she told me about Mai’s childhood crush. Apparently it is one-sided, and everyone wishes she would just get over it. Mai's scowl confirms that I should let it go.

“Of course Father wouldn’t give him a job after the equipment malfunction last year.” Everything Azula says comes out like a sneer. “He’s such a disgrace to the family. We need someone who is competent and level-headed in the company, Mai. Not lovesick and forlorn. Should I retract my recommendation I made to Father?”

Even though she’s shaking her head, I swear I hear Mai mumble bitch under her breath. For some reason, I am mesmerized by the exchange. The crowd finally thins out as everyone heads to class. With only two weeks left of school, the summer will be here before we know it. And I will be nursing injured seals back to health with Zuko?

Toph nudges me with her elbow. “Hey Sugar Queen. Watch your back, will ya?”

“What? Why?”

She’s gone before I can ask what the hell she’s talking about.

Chapter Two: Underwater  |  Chapter Three: Steamy

Chapter Four: The Fall

#zutara week #zutara week 2017 #zkweek #zkweek2017

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Mutilated Mannequin (Part 7)

Azula doesn’t enjoy being back in the cosmetic surgery facility, even if it is just a follow up and even if it is only to have the bandages and splits removed once and for all. It is a weekend, at the very least, she is thankful for this. 

She isn’t quite thrilled that her father has simply dropped her off with a simple, “I’ll be back within an hour, I have some errands to run.”

The only thing that helps is TyLee’s hand clutching hers. 

“Oh, I’d love to wear a dress like that.” TyLee points at a magazine depicting a model in a glitzy pink and silver dress. It is long and form fitting and throws glimmering reflections on the backdrop. 

“It’s alright.” Azula says. “Pink isn’t my taste.” But she flips through the magazine and looks for a price tag. She waits for TyLee to get up to use the restroom before tearing the page out. Perhaps if the girl is supportive enough she’ll buy it for her one day. She pockets the page and crosses one leg back over the other. She sits rigidly with her hands clasped over her knee. 

TyLee has her rear hovering just over the chair when Azula is called back. She stands back up again and follows along. 

“Good morning, Ms. Kasai.” Dr. Guhira greets. 

“Yes, you too.” She tries to sound warm but her words lack the enthusiasm needed to do so. 

“This should be a very quick appointment.” The doctor notes as he carefully cuts away the bandages and removes the splints. He takes a few minutes to inspect her nose before declaring, “everything looks as pictured, you’re all set.” He types something into his computer before turning back to her. “Would you like to see?”

“I’ll wait until I get home.” She finds that she would much rather breakdown in privacy. 

“I think that it looks nice.” TyLee smiles. She holds her pointer up to boop Azula’s nose. 

She flinches out of the way of TyLee’s finger. At the fall of her friend’s face she explains, “I don’t want it to get ruined so soon.”

“You won’t have to worry about that.” Guhira promises. “I wouldn’t have taken out the splints if that was going to be an issue. Just don’t do anything that would have broken your nose before the surgery and you’ll be fine.” 

Azula nods. 

The man glances at the clipboard. “I’ll see you in a week.” 

Azula nearly lets her mouth fall agape. She hadn’t realized that her father has already scheduled the next one. She has hardly recovered from this one. She swallows and nods again, knowing that she is in for a discussion with Ozai. “Thank you, Dr. Guhira.” She holds out her hand. 

He smiles as he shakes it and leads her back into the waiting room.

“Mom?” TyLee asks. 

A woman with wide eyes and a round chin springs up. She looks so much like her daughter, she can almost pass as a high schooler herself. After leaving TyLee’s embrace she says, “Ozai asked me if I would pick you girls up.” She turns to Azula, “I made grilled chicken and cookies if you would like to join us for dinner.” 

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind coming along.” Azula replies. Any excuse to delay having to talk to her father. Anything to distract her from her nose. 

.oOo. 

Her father still isn’t home. She can’t find any sign of Zuzu either. She is almost certain that her brother is helping Sokka with his campaign speeches, in which case she doesn’t want his presence around the house anyhow. Not that she had expected him to support her anyhow. 

Azula supposes that it is a good thing that she is alone. She wanders her way to her bedroom and paces around for a bit before moving to her vanity dresser. She rests her palms on the edge of it but can’t bring herself to look up just yet. It is such a minor change, only one aspect of herself and yet she fears seeing it. 

She fears it because it is a change and she finds that she isn’t a fan of change at all. Even so, she lifts her head and her gaze.

The whiplash she expects doesn’t come. The change isn’t so profound that she feels a disconnect from herself. In fact, it is such a slight altercation. But, God, it makes her look so different. Just as Ozai had hoped, there is a subtle point to her nose that makes her look, somehow, older. More mature. She decides that this might work in her favor in terms of the debate. If she can appear older, she can look more professional, more suitable. 

She brings tentative and cautious fingers to her nose. To her surprise, and relief, it feels rather genuine. 

It is going to take at least some getting used to but she has to admit that her new nose is already doing favors to her overall aesthetic. 

She hears the door open and makes her way to the entry room. “Hello, father.” She can see a new watch glimmering on his wrist and something in her stirs. Had he really blown her off to get a custom-made watch? 

He looks her over. “Definitely an improvement.” He notes. 

Azula isn’t sure if she should feel elated at his newfound approval or disheartened at the implication that he hadn’t accepted her before. The unpleasant flutters in her tummy speak for her. “I think it looks better as well.” She admits. 

Ozai’s lip curves up and he puts a gentle hand on her shoulder. “That is great to hear. I had a feeling that you would like the final result.” She watches him rifle through a small bag. He pulls out an even smaller box and places it into her hand. “Go on.” 

Azula unwraps and opens it. Encased in velvet is a small pendant on a gold chain. It is a blend of ruby and citrine fused together to form a lily. She holds it up and watches the pendant twirl and catch in the light. 

“Congratulations on your first operation.”  He squeezes her shoulder and her former resentment and unease melt away. 

.oOo.

Katara bends over with her hands on her knees huffs. 

“Keep moving, Katara!” Kyoshi barks. 

Katara groans and starts back into a sprint. She doesn’t see any sense in having gym class the hour before lunch. No less she makes her way around the track for the sixth time. Ten more laps to go, but she doesn’t think that she has it in her. 

“Aren’t swimmers supposed to be good with endurance?” Jet calls from the other side of the track. 

Katara rolls her eyes and ignores the comment. She can’t help but find it annoyingly true; she doesn’t know why it is so much harder to keep pace on land. In the water she could have had these laps done minutes ago. On land she is getting passed left and right. Azula has at least two laps on her already and is about to overtake her a third time. 

The girl doesn’t even spare a glance as she breezes past.

“What a show off, am I right?” Sokka asks as he too whizzes by, backwards at that. Clumsy too, but somehow he is still up right and keeping up with everyone. 

“Yeah, apparently she’s not the only one.” Katara raises a brow. 

Sokka laughs but only for a moment before colliding with Jet. 

“Watch where you’re going, dipshit.” Jet scowls after picking himself off of the ground. 

Sokka lifts his hands. “It was an accident, I’m sure that you’re still in one piece.” 

“You won’t be when…”

“Save it for your wrestling tournament, Akunin.” Kyoshi grumbles. 

Jet shoots him a final glare before resuming his laps. 

“Geeze, men are so intense.” Sokka notes. 

“You would know.” Katara replies. She tries to sound less grumpy, running laps is more tolerable with Sokka making light of things. The last thing that she wants to do is chase him away. 

“Hey. Question.”

“Yeah.”

“Women tend to notice little details…”

“Just ask the question, Sokka.”

“Is it just me or does Azula look different to you?” 

“I don’t usually go out of my way to stare at Azula.”

“Well, next time you get a chance can you look over? I wanna know if it’s just me.” 

Katara nods, not planning on actually deliberately doing so. She finishes her final lap. Right now, her main focus is getting to the drinking fountain and catching her breath. Kyoshi announces her time but Katara isn’t paying any mind to that either. 

She steps towards the drinking fountain only to find a body blocking at. “Back of the line, darkie.” Jet points. 

“Excuse me!?”

“Her voice is so shrill.” Chan holds a finger to his ear. 

Katara balls her fists. She feels a pair of hands on her shoulders and gets ready to send her fists in that direction instead. “They’re not worth it, Katara. Come on.” Suki mumbles. 

“I was here first and did you hear…”

Suki nods. “It’s just a drinking fountain and those were just words. Don’t let them get you all angry, that only makes them laugh harder.” She pauses, “besides, there’s another fountain over there.” 

Katara sighs and heads towards the other fountain as Suki makes her way back into the gym. She decides that she should probably pick her battles anyhow, but she is sick to death of the name calling and dickwaving. 

She leans against the wall and waits for her turn. Azula comes to stand behind her. Curiosity gets the better of her, “what was your time?” 

“Four minutes and forty-five seconds.” Azula inspects her nails. A thick and somewhat awkward silence lets Katara know that the conversation is over. 

She stares at Azula for a moment longer. Sokka is right, there is something different about her. That something explains the bandages. She wonders if the other girl had, had some sort of accident. Katara steps up to the drinking fountain. She closes her eyes, pleased to have some liquid soothing her burning lungs. 

.oOo.

Azula hopes that she isn’t pushing herself. Her nose is tingling uncomfortably. She can’t remember how long Dr. Guhira had told her to wait before getting back into athletics. She knows that swimming is off limits, but running? She thinks that she should probably take it a little easier, but she has to keep herself in shape for track. She has goals to meet and she won’t be cutting more seconds from her end time if she gets lazy now. 

She rolls her shoulders back and readies herself to run another mile around the track. 

“Resume.” Kyoshi calls. 

She and her classmates surge forward. She almost feels bad for Yue who looks as though she is going to collapse at any minute. “God, this is so much easier in the water.” she hears Yue complain. 

Azula is three laps in when her nose begins to drip. She groans and slows herself. 

“Ms. Kasai, I know that you can do better than…”

Azula points at her nose.

Kyoshi gives a head nod, “nevermind, you go to the bathroom or the nurse’s office and get that taken care of.” 

Azula wanders to the locker room and finds her nasal drip pads. Guhira had warned her that her nose can still gush if she puts too much strain on herself. She sighs and makes her way to the bathroom. She spends the rest of the hour leaning against the wall, envious of the people still running the track. It only makes Yue’s incessant complaining that much worse. 

“I can’t do it anymore Kyoshi, I just can’t.” The girl pleads. 

“Then walk the rest of the laps.” Kyoshi concedes. 

“Seven minutes and twenty-six seconds, Chan.”

Chan gives the gym teacher a thumbs up and props himself up against the wall. 

“I think that this is your fastest time.” Azula remarks. 

“Had to get it over with so I could talk to you.”

“Flattering.” 

“Hey, look.” He pants. 

“Do you need a minute?”

“No.” He shakes his head and takes another deep breath. “No, I’m good.” 

Azula waits for him to continue. 

“So, about homecoming. TyLee pretty much has her pick of, like, everyone in this school…”

“And.”

“So I was wondering if I could take you instead?” 

For a flicker her eyes go wide. “You want to take me?” 

He nods, “yeah, I was hoping to.” 

She lets a faint smile tug at her lips. She feels giddy and euphoric. This time the fluttering in her belly is of a more pleasant and elated variety. She has never been asked to a dance before. “Let me talk to TyLee.” Not that she can see TyLee objections, the girl has only been pestering her to find a date for ages. Any desire to talk her father out of the second operation fades. It would seem that she has made the right call in deciding to get the surgery after all. 

“Let me know at lunch?” 

“Yes, I’ll let you know at lunch.” 

By lunch, the doubts settle in. She wishes that she would have just said yes before they did. Before it had dawned upon her that TyLee might get offended. She tries to tell herself that such is her only dread and that it will be alleviated after a talk with TyLee.Yet, faintly in the back of her mind she feels guilty. Like she is lying to him. 

She can’t imagine that he’d care much for her if he knew that the surgery had been her idea and not her father’s. She can’t imagine that he will appreciate kissing fake lips. She also can’t imagine that he’d like kissing her real lips either. 

She can’t imagine that he’ll stick around long enough to make it to the homecoming dance. Not with a school full of prettier faces. 

“What did you want to talk about?”

Azula sighs in relief, “I was asked to homecoming.” 

TyLee is beaming, “by who!? Oh, Mai is going to be so excited!”

“I don’t know about that, Ty.” She sighs, “Chan asked me.” 

“You two are going to be so cute together.” She squeals. 

“TyLee. You were going to take him.”

“Oh yeah…” TyLee taps her pointer against her lips. “I forgot that he asked me.”

#Azula #Sokka #Katara #Zuko #TyLee #Mai #Suki #Avatar #Fanfiction