#//but ye it's 1 a.m. i should go to bed ://

[cuteniarose]

Most of the time you can’t really tell that I have a 10 year age difference with the two mutuals/friends I talk with the most, but then @rokurookajima will randomly do something like, idk, post her art from *2013* that DOESN’T look like an elementary schooler’s scribbles and suddenly the gap is very very obvious lmao

For reference, in 2013 I was 6 going on 7 and my artistic capabilities were limited to poorly drawn ponies and cotton-candy-coloured stick humans because I thought the first Equestria Girls movie was an unmatched cinematic masterpiece :P

[deermurdock]

poor thing | m. murdock

NSFW a/n: this is kindaaa a full version of the blurb i posted a couple of days ago because i've been in a mood so uhm. just a lot of horny stuff. the reader is very touch starved and also uses hearing aids. so! have fun with this :)) uhm this got super self indulgent at the end but i think it's pretty good-- not to toot my own horn or anything but uhmmmm enjoy!! warnings: dom/sub dynamics, nicknames, Matt flipflopping between being a soft dom and a hard dom bc i couldnt make up my mind, oral (fem receiving), p in v sex, uhhh dirty talk, cursing, reader is suuuuper touch starved wordcount: 4.3k

You have brunch plans for tomorrow morning.

You, Matt, Karen, Foggy and Marci—Nothing but mimosas and French toast.

If you can make it through the night, of course.

Okay, fine, it’s not that dramatic. But sometimes, you think you might die—Right then and there, cause of death? Matt Murdock.

You had planned to stay the night, bringing an overnight bag with you to work. And at around 1 a.m., after a homecooked meal, a movie and sitting curled against his side, the two of you realized you should probably get some sleep.

You brush your teeth in his bathroom, take your medication in his kitchen, and then you go to get changed. You dig through your bag, trying to find your pajamas—Your shorts are here, but not the tee shirt you were planning to wear.

Not in any of the little pockets of your overnight bag.

You twist the shorts in your hands awkwardly, watching as Matt pulls out sweatpants from his drawer to wear.

“Matthew?” You say softly, tilting your head.

“Yes, sweetheart?” He wonders, tilting his head back to you.

“Could.. I borrow a tee shirt? I guess I forgot mine.” You see a smile form on his face.

He shuffles through his drawers, fingers running over tags. Then, he turns back to you, and hands you a black tee shirt. You look at it for a second, reading the text on the front of the shirt. Then you grin.

“My Chemical Romance?” You read. Matt’s face flushes a bit.

“I had.. a bit of an emo phase in High School, okay?”

“That’s all I get? You’re gonna drop that on me and not give me anymore details?” You wonder.

“Let’s just say for a blind man, I am.. very good at doing eyeliner.”

You giggle.

“You’re probably better than I am.” You’re not big on makeup.

“Just go get changed.” He tells you, turning back to his drawer.

You oblige, heading into his bathroom to change. When you slip the tee shirt over your head, you pick the fabric up and put it up to your nose, inhaling his scent. You can’t help yourself. He’s got this very subtle vanilla smell to him. Then, you make your way back to his bedroom, tossing your clothes over your duffle bag.

You stand by the doorway, sort of.. taken back by the look of him. He’s sprawled out in his bed, just in a pair of fuzzy socks and sweatpants. Your face flushes. You’re about to sleep in a boy’s bed—With him in it!

You shake your head, chasing the silly thought out of it.

“Aren’t you coming to bed?” He doesn’t even have his glasses on. When you realize this, your heartbeat picks up. You’ve only been going out for about two weeks, just enough for you to become curious about his eyes.

“This is weird..” You mumble, and his head tilts curiously.

“What do you mean?”

A smile breaks out on your face.

“I don’t know,” You confess, “It’s just.. I can barely handle it when you kiss me in front of our friends, I’m overwhelmed at the idea of like.. cuddling all night.”

“Well, this isn’t in front of our friends.” He reminds. He pats the bed next to him. “Come sit,” He offers. He stays still, as if he’s scared you’ll run off like a skittish animal.

You move to sit on the bed, an inch or two away from each other. Matt’s hand finds yours. You lean your head against his shoulder. Then, you remember something, tilting your head to face him, leaning your chin on his shoulder.

“Matt, I won’t be able to hear your alarm clock go off,” You remind. Your hearing aids will be out while you sleep, and you’re not likely to hear his alarm clock. “We’ll be late and—”

Matt kisses your forehead.

“I’ll wake you up,” he says.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You smile and press a soft kiss onto his lips. He stops, basking in the initiated affection.

You take out your hearing aids, and then melt into the bed, waiting for Matt to wrap his arms around you. He does, his arms snaking around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your next. Then, he says, right into your good ear so you could hear him,

“This okay?”

You smile.

“Yeah.” You promise, your hand wrapping around his arm, squeezing it tightly. You’re kept warm all night. There’s this moment at around three a.m., and your eyes flutter open as you wake up.. rather randomly.

You take a minute to admire Matt’s sleeping figure in the dark. His face is.. peaceful. Your lips twitch up. Then, you lean in and press a soft kiss on his jaw. You’re not used to physical affection.. But you’re doing your best to change that.

-

In the morning, Matt keeps his promise.

He removes his hand from your skin to turn off the alarm clock blaring,

’10:00 a.m.’

His hand runs over your back, since you’re now laying on your stomach, hugging Matt and a pillow. You breath deep, and for a moment, Matt tries to imagine what you’re dreaming about.

Your family?

Your job?

Him?

But, he knows you have to get up soon, so he begins to kiss you—

He starts at your cheek, before moving to your neck, and then, when he reaches your clothed shoulder, he moves your sleeve up your arm, beginning to kiss your arm, as his fingers tease the hem of your shirt, unsure if you’d kill him if that’s how you wake up, when your eyes flutter open.

“Good morning,” he smiles. He talks at just the right level so you can understand him.

“What’re you doing, Matthew?”

“Just waking you up,” He leans down and kisses your arm again. A shiver runs through your body.

“Okay, I’m awake now.” You grin.

“Okay, great,” You lean over and grab your hearing aids, putting them on. “Let’s go out to dinner tonight,” he requests, “My treat.”

“Like.. a fancy dinner or just something casual?”

“Fancy.” He confirms. “Fancy clothes and everything.”

Your heartbeat quickens.

“Kay.”

Matt leans forward and kisses your cheek.

He almost moves to get up, but he stops to ask,

“What were you dreaming about?”

You smile a bit.

“The Taj Mahal.” He laughs.

“The Taj Mahal?”

“Mhm.”

“You’re so..”

“Weird? Annoying? Nerdy?”

“Fascinating.”

He takes note at the way your heart races when he says that.

-

After brunch that morning, you and Matt split up to go get ready for your date, and you’re mostly successful.

But, you struggle with your eyeliner.. And then you remember something Matt told you last night. So you wait for Matt to get to your apartment. When he does, he comes with flowers. You smile as he kisses you hello, and you take the flowers.

You come back to him as you’re slipping on your shoes.

“I have a favor to ask,”

“Anything,” He smiles.

“Do my eyeliner?” You offer him your eyeliner pen, and he smiles.

“Sit on the couch,” he gestures, taking the pen from you. You sit on the couch, and Matt kneels down a bit, leaning in to feel around your face, getting a good feel of where your features are. Then, he grips the pencil in his hand and uses those handy heightened senses to delicately do your eyeliner.

He smiles when he finishes.

“Okay, all done. Do mine?” He asks, and you smile.

“Sure, how do you want to—” and before you can finish, Matt has moved quickly to sit on the chair before pulling you onto his lap. You let out a squeak, your face red. He grins.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He feigns innocence.

“You’re such a pain.” You huff, and he just smiles, leaning into kiss your cheek. You blush, avoiding looking at him now.

“C’mon, just do my eyeliner for me,” he requests, and you let out a huff as you gently tilt his head up towards you.

“You know you need to take your glasses off, right?”

“I know,” he smiles, and his hand is removed briefly from your waist to take off his glasses. Then, slowly and methodically, you begin applying the eyeliner, trying to ignore how nervous this whole thing is making you.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast,” He smirks. You bite back a sarcastic comment, and his hand begins to rub up and down your side. You pause your application of the eyeliner to squirm a bit in his lap. “What’s the matter, baby?” he coos.

“Oh, you’re such a dick.” You mumble, your grip on his chin tightening as you finish applying his eyeliner. He smiles and slips his glasses back on, as you climb off his lap. “C’mon, I’m starving—”

“Me too,” he says before grabbing your arm, and pulling you in for a long, deep kiss. His tongue brushes against your lip before slipping inside your mouth. After the initial urge to run away dissipates, you lean into the kiss, only for Matthew to pull away. “Alright, let’s head out.”

You try to find words, but you’re breathless from that kiss. Instead, you betray yourself. You let out this needy little whine, and Matt just smirks.

“What? If you’re whining over one kiss, I can’t imagine how you’ll be later.”

You tilt your head, cautiously. Matt wants to tell you how dog like that is, how it’s easily one of his favorite things about you.

“What do you mean, later?”

He kisses your head, and opens the door to your apartment, gesturing for you to walk out.

“Use that pretty head of yours. What do you think I mean?”

Your face flushes as you take a few steps out of the apartment.

“I don’t know.”

He closes the door behind him, and then his arm takes yours.

“Guess.”

-

To you, Dinner feels like it takes a million damn years.

You suspect that’s partially because of the way Matthew insatiably teases you.

His hand stays on your thigh throughout all of dinner.

When he wants you to try something, he gathers the food on a fork and glances to you.

“Open,” he says, and when he puts the fork in your mouth, you bite the food off the fork. “Good pup,” He hums, and of course, you blush.

He licks his lips like he’s quietly begging for a taste, and at some point during the dinner, he leans over the table and asks you quietly,

“Do you think I can’t smell how wet you are, kid?”

So by the time you two get home, it’s all you can do not to get on your hands and knees and beg him for something more than just a couple of teasing words. Maybe that’s what he wants. You’re not sure—Your brain is fuzzy.

You step into Matt’s apartment and toss the jacket that he wrapped around your shoulders onto the couch as he steps in, putting his cane and glasses down first.

“Can I ask you a question?” You finally blurt out.

He smiles, sensing your anticipation.

“Sure.”

“Are we.. are we gonna sleep together tonight?” You can’t help but ask. Matt chuckles gently.

“Do you want to sleep together?”

“Yes, please,” you finally answer.

“Go sit on the couch.” He orders softly, and he hears no objections as you take off your heels before sitting on the couch. He breathes deep and cracks the bones in his neck. He knows you have no idea what you’re in for.

He runs a hand over his jaw, trying to decide how he’ll start. He knows no matter how he does it, he’ll absolutely torture you, poor thing. So, he starts with sitting down next to you, placing his hand on your thigh.

He smirks as you squirm.

“What’s the matter, baby?” He coos softly.

“Oh, you know damn well what’s—”

Matt moves his hand from your thigh to grip your chin.

“Shh..” He starts, “If you want me to fuck you, you’re going to have to knock off the attitude,” He demands gently.

“Can’t help it—”

“You haven’t even tried.” He scoffs. “Come on, just be good for me and I’ll make all the thoughts disappear from your pretty little head.” His grip on your chin tightens, and he leans forward to brush his lips against yours. “Answer me.”

“Okay,” You breath out, “Okay, sure, I’ll be good,” You promise, and Matt kisses you in approval. But he doesn’t pull away after a moment. Instead, his hands move to cup your cheeks. He deepens the kiss and doesn’t stop you as you reposition yourself, now sitting on his lap.

His hand trails down, beginning to massage your thighs as you kiss him. He can smell how wet you are, hear how fast your heart is beating.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips again, so that he can explore your mouth. He studies it like its his damn job, and he relishes in the tiny gasps and moans that he’s able to draw out of you.

You begin rocking your hips against him, and his hands move to your hips, holding you in place. He pulls away from the kiss, and is met with your whining.

“What’d I tell you about the attitude?” He wonders, and you bite your lip, just desperate for him to continue. One hand releases your hip and reaches up to tug your hair. You let out a whimper. “Answer me.” His voice is steady, but deep—He knows exactly the effect he has over you.

“To stop it,” You answer, and he clicks his tongue. You try not to react, but Matt smirks at your attempt at self-control.

“Poor thing,” He coos, “You just need someone to take care of you, huh? Order you around, fuck you dumb..” He hums. When you squirm a bit in his lap, Matt decides to kiss you again, wanting you as brainless as he can get you.

He slowly pulls away, and he takes a second to stop, to catch his breath. He knows you need the second too, so he just inhales as he listens to the sound of your heartbeat, anxiously awaiting his next move.

“If you want to stop, you just say ‘Lava’. Got it?”

“Lava, got it.” You know he’s looking for verbal affirmation, that you understand what’s about to happen might get.. less than vanilla. He nods, and places an uncharacteristically soft kiss to your lips.

“Take your dress off,” He commands softly, “And then get on your knees for me.”

For a moment, you contemplate being bratty. You contemplate not following his order. But, you decide against it. You stand and slip out of your dress, left in just your jewelry, underwear and pretty makeup.

You kneel between his legs and watch as his lips form this smile that makes your stomach churn.

“Good dog,” and he chuckles when you lean your head against his thigh. “Poor thing,” He repeats his early sentiment, before he stands up. He takes a step towards his bedroom, and then, his hand comes down to pet your hair—

Before he grips it, starting to pull you by your hair all the way to his bedroom, listening as you whimper, trying to keep up with him. When he releases your hair, you pant softly from the pain as you sit next to his bed, watching as Matt unties his tie, wrapping it around his hand like you would a bandage.

“Sorry, honey,” he coos, suddenly soft, “That was mean, wasn’t it?” He wonders, and you pause, not sure if he wants you to actually answer. His lips twitch into a smirk. “Go ahead, you can answer.”

“Yeah, it was,” You finally answer, “The fuck did you do that for?” Matt lets out this dry chuckle.

“There’s that attitude again,” He hums. He leans down and effortlessly scoops you up with his arms and puts you on his bed, “Yeah. I was mean.” He nods, “Let me make it up to you?” He’s not really asking for your permission, and he proves that by grabbing your ankles and pulling you to the edge of the bed.

“Are you going to stop being mean to me?” You wonder, and he can’t help the smile that forms on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He moves to lean closer to you, before unwrapping the tie from his hand and then, he ties it around your head, making sure to lay it right over your eyes. “I never promised that. I just promised I’d make it up to you. Ask how I’ll do that.”

You inhale and exhale, a little thrown out of the moment.

“How?” You ask, desperately in love with him either way.

“I’m gonna ruin that pretty eyeliner,” He kneels between your legs.

“How are you—” You gasp when he pulls down your underwear quickly, slipping it down to your ankles, and then throwing them to the side.

“You’re a smart kid, I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon.” He says, before leaning in to lick a stripe across your cunt. Then, he starts to lick and suck on your folds, devouring you. You moan loudly, hands finding his hair as you try to get used to the feeling.

And after a couple of moments of eating you out, You do get used to it, and you absolutely melt into the bed, suddenly forgiving him for all his mean moments earlier. You’d forgive anything he did if he just stays on his knees, eating you out.

His fingers come up to your clit to gently rub circles into it, before moving his fingers to slip right between your folds, relishing in the way you whine, in the sound of your moans. His fingers begin to pump in and out of you.

He licks stripe after stripe into your cunt, his scruff scratching your thighs as he eats you out. You pull and tug at his hair.

“I’m—I’m close,” You finally manage to gasp out,

Matt just hums out an, ‘Mhm’, too busy lapping up your juices on his tongue. His nose brushes against your clit, and you’re suddenly coming undone as his licks your juices up. You ride out your high with Matt’s face between your thighs.

After a couple of minutes, he slowly comes up for air, head tilting upwards.

“Feeling okay?” his voice is soft now.

“Yeah,” You breath with a breathy sigh. “Just.. thinking.” Your hands absentmindedly comb through his hair.

“’Bout what, baby?” He asks, and leans in, pressing a kiss to your clit. When you whine, he coos mockingly, “Aw, poor thing.. Answer the question.”

“..You.” You try, and he scoffs, before biting your thigh.

“Try again, brat.”

You blush.

“It’s embarrassing!”

“I just buried my face in your pretty pussy and you’re worried about an embarrassing thought?” Matt asks, and you huff.

“Well, when you put it that way—” He bites your thigh again. “Fine! Fine,” You huff. “I’m thinking about the seven wonders of the world.”

A beat.

Matt lets out a low chuckle, and your face flushes.

“Matthew!”

“What? I can’t help it,” He giggles, and as you start to move away, but he grips your thighs and pulls you closer, “Okay, okay. What about the seven wonders of the world?”

“I’ll tell you if you take off the blindfold.”

“Oh,” He lets out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Oh, poor thing, this isn’t a negotiation.”

“Seems like it is—” He scoffs at this, “It is! You’re the one on your knees, I’ve already came, seems like I have a bit of leverage here—”

Matt rolls his eyes, and stands up, his hand coming up to your head to the blindfold. He pulls it off and takes just a second to brush hair from your face. Then, he wraps the tie around your neck. He pulls a bit, just snuggly tugging and applying a bit of pressure. He towers over you now, and he pulls the tie up a bit so that you’re looking at him.

“Listen to me, you little brat,” He growls, “What did I say about the attitude?” You just let out a whimper, and he clicks his tongue again. “I bet I can fuck the attitude out of you. Or at least, I can try.” He snaps, tightening the tie around your neck.

Then, he works on his pants and tugs his dress pants down just enough for him to pull his cock out. Then, he shifts the two of you so that you’re sitting on his lap, his tip teasing your folds.

He tugs on the tie, pulling you forward so he can bite and suck on your neck, and you begin to moan, whine at the feeling of. Matt just bites down, marking you in every way he can.

“Not used to all this attention, huh?” And then, Matt says his phrase of the night, “Poor thing,” He hums. His hand comes up to uncharacteristically kindly move the hair from your ear, and then begins to kiss every inch of your skin.

You’re like puddy in his hands. Mendable, soft.

He guides his cock to your folds, and then, as he distracts you with kisses and hickeys, guides you to sink down onto his cock. When you do, you let out a breathy moan, unused to the feeling of being so full..

After giving you a minute to adjust, Matt begins to thrust into you, encourages by your moans and egging you on with whispers of encouragement,

“Taking my cock so well for me,” He praises, planting kisses down your neck, “Like you’re made for me to fuck you like this,” He gasps as he feels you clench around him. “Fuck, So good for me,” He says. It’s like he’s addicted to kissing you, to kissing your neck and shoulders and every inch of skin he can get his lips on.

He fucks you intensely, and you feel every single thrust as it echoes through your body, and the longer he goes, the more he whispers in your ear, (“Come on, pretty thing, just keep taking my cock, just like that—Oh, god—Fuck, Baby, you feel so good,”) the closer you get to your climax.

“’m gonna—”

“I know, I know,” He hums, and then he smirks as he smells salty tears in the air. Tears run down your face, and Matt knows he’s won. “Aw, baby.. Did you ruin your eyeliner?” When you don’t respond, Matt pulls your hips down, commanding you to answer.

“Yes!” You whimper, a sob escaping your lips.

“Poor thing,” he coos, and his thrusts are particularly intent as he continues, “Poor, poor baby,” He hums, kissing your shoulder before biting down on it. And without another word, you grip his arm as you clench around him, cumming around his cock. He thrusts a few more times, “Gotta pull out before—”

“No!” You whine, “Just come inside, it’s fine—”

“Are you sure, I don’t want to—”

“Matt,” you whine, beginning to roll your hips, desperate to feel him come inside you. You whimper softly, as Matt thrusts into you, finally coming inside you. He rides out his own high before his thrusts come to a slow.

“Fuck,” He gasps, sweat dripping down his neck. “You were even better than I could imagine..” he confesses.

For a moment, the pair of you just breath. His hands slowly rub up and down your sides. Thoughts seem far away.. in the best way possible.

He knows you need a bath. He knows he needs to clean you and himself up. He knows he needs to teach you to suck him off. He should ask you how that was, what he should do again, what you would’ve preferred. He has a damn list, but all he can think to ask is—

“What were you thinking about earlier?”

“What?” you ask, cock still buried deep inside you.

“After I ate you out,” He starts, “You were thinking about the seven wonders of the world. What about them?”

You study his face. There’s no mocking intent, no malice in his voice.

“I was thinking about The Gardens of Babylon. How deeply I relate to them.”

“What? How can you relate to ancient architecture?”

“Well, we don’t know if they were even real. Maybe they were, but there are theories that it was all just.. poetic. That they weren’t real, and that the story is just.. something we choose to believe.”

His face twitches in confusion, trying to process what you mean, how can you relate to ancient architecture, especially ancient architecture that you don’t even know the certainty of.

“So, which one would I be?”

He expects you to ask questions for confirmation.

Instead, you answer almost immediately.

“The Roman Colosseum.” You grin.

“The colosseum?” He questions.

“Strong. Stable. Gorgeous. Breathtaking.” You pause, a smirk on your face. Your finger comes up to his nose. You run it down the shape of his nose, “Roman.” He grins.

“So, we’re the Gardens of Babylon and the Roman Colosseum?”

“No, no,” You shake your head, “we’re not the Gardens of Babylon and the Roman Colosseum! We’re the wonder of the world that’s built out of white marble, a wonder made because death doesn’t stop love-- We are the Taj Mahal.” You offer.

“Oh, my mistake.” He grins. “We’re the Taj Mahal.”

“See? You get it.” You smile back.

Matt thinks for a moment.

“So this morning, when I asked you what you were dreaming about this morning.. Technically, you were dreaming about us?”

You smile.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Matt just kisses you deep, pushing you back onto the bed as he begins to unbutton his shirt, tossing it off to the side.

The two of you spend your night intermittently going back and forth between passionate lovemaking—Part of Matt’s love language and talking and expressing how much you love him in an abstract way—Part of your love language.

Neither of you get much sleep that night.

[oikasugayama]

YOU CATCH HIM M@STURBAT!NG

NSFW, for adults ONLY, MDNI or I'll block you. No idea how many parts this will be. Let me know which BSD men you want to see ;)

pt. 1 Fyodor, Poe, Chuuya | pt. 2 Fukuzawa, Kunikida, Dazai | pt. 3 Ranpo, Akutagawa, Ango | pt. 4 Sigma, Mori, Tetcho | pt. 5 (finale) Atsushi, Nikolai

Fyodor

Walking in on him touching himself is REALLY surprising because he doesn't seem the type to masturbate, in your mind. You straight up couldn't imagine him touching himself until the very second you walked into his office and saw his bottoms around his ankles, his top hiked up around his chest, and his hand furiously pumping over his pale dick.

His head is thrown back, eyes closed, mouth lazily hanging open. You've never seen so much skin on him before. He's PALE pale which makes the brightness of his mouth and tongue and the tip of his cock seem so much brighter.

"oh love, yes, yesss" he moans, and your whole body flushes red with embarrassment and arousal at the same time. You shouldn't be seeing this but you're having a hell of a time turning away from him. You need to leave the room. You need to go. You need to turn around.

"y/n," he purrs, tilting his head and opening his eyes half-way, looking so fucked out and erotic. "do you like what you see?"

You can't formulate an answer, you're standing in the doorway short circuiting, trying to make words but only noises come out

"since you're standing there I thought you might be interested," he says as slow and calm as ever. Even jerking himself off his voice doesn't hitch or raise or speed up and it's honestly really hot right now. "Care to join me?"

"i-i, um... I'm really s-sorry, f...fyodor."

He moans softly biting his lip while still staring straight at you.

"say it again," he purrs. "say my name."

"fyodor..."

"again," he moans, hand working faster.

"Fyodor."

you walk in and close the door behind you.

Poe

You two scheduled a hang-out at his place but despite how many times you knocked on the door, he wouldn't answer...so you try the doorknob, and hey, it's unlocked! You've been to his place many times, you don't mind letting yourself in and don't suspect he'll mind either.

After you put your stuff down and take off your shoes, you register a quiet noise coming from a different room. you sneak closer and realize two things: it's crying, and it's coming from poe's bedroom

you open the door and rush in without thinking. "poe! what's wrong, why are you-- OH FUCK"

you rushed right into him kneeling at the edge of his bed, bouncing on a dildo and not crying, whimpering, moaning.

he calls your name and you can't tell if he meant to moan it but he absolutely moans it and he sounds like a wreck and he looks pathetic and fucked out, and you feel it when he says your name.

"I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have been this, I'm gonna go home--" you say, turning and rushing out of his room. he calls your name after you, multiple times, moaning and moaning and moaning--

you sink down against his front door, still slightly able to hear the sounds of him moaning and whining from his room. you're so horny now, absolutely drenched through your panties/rock hard in your pants. You know you should leave, you know you shouldn't still be here, but he never told you to go, he just kept saying your name...

a few minutes later, after the noises have subsided and the apartment has gotten deadly quiet, his bedroom door creaks open and he slowly peeks his head out. he must be crawling still because he's near the floor.

"[y/n]," he sighs, "I didn't want you to find out like this."

it takes you a second to collect yourself, but you manage to ask "find what out?"

"that i... i think about you... a lot..."

Chuuya

you're on a PM mission with chuuya and several other PM members. you've got to share a room with chuuya, but at least you have separate beds. it's fine. it's whatever. until.

until you wake up one morning--the clock on the bedside table saying it's only 6:23 a.m.--to the sound of a rhythmic slapping, some occasional huffs, a-- a moan?

you sit upright in bed quickly, your head turning toward chuuya's bed.

"are you fucking serious?"

"what" he huffs, and through the tiny bit of daylight creeping through the curtains you can see movement beneath his sheets.

"are you jerking off right now? dude we're sharing a fucking room."

"you were asleep," he says defensively. "not like you noticed yesterday."

"dude!!!"

"get over it, it's fuckin' natural," he says and his voice is getting tight and higher almost like he's biting back a moan or getting close to cumming.

"it's disrespectful when you have someone in the same room, chuuya," you say softer, subconsciously still trying to hear the sounds he's making. you're embarrassed at how intrigued you are

"i'm not stopping you," he says. "you can jerk it too for all i care."

"to what... to you jerking it?"

you can almost hear the smirk in his voice when he says "I never said anything about that, so you thought that up all on your own. is that what you're into, pet?"

[verysanebsdfan]

ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ʀᴀᴍʙʟɪɴɢs - ɪsʜɪɢᴀᴍɪ sᴇɴᴋᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Hiii!! So I decided to write this cause I can't sleep... Yeah!! Hope you like it!! <3 Stay hydrated

masterlist

wc: 621

───────────────────

The quiet atmosphere of the cloudless, starry night was accompanied by the occasional sound of glasses clinking together or the silent noise of chemical reactions. Yes, that’s exactly what you hear. It might be around 1 a.m., yet he is still working—constantly. Ever since he woke up, he has been on and about.

It was almost heartbreaking, seeing your crush- I mean friend, overwork himself. He should know that sleep is essential for human life, so why? Why doesn’t he go to sleep?

“That’s it!” You thought and got up from the comfort of your sleeping place and sneaked out of the science shed in which you’ve been sleeping for the past few months. Slowly, on your tippy-toes, you get to the laboratory where Senku is currently experimenting. 

It’s always “Go to sleep so you’re fresh tomorrow,” or “Go get your beauty sleep (Name), not like you need it.” But what about him? Seriously, he is like a child. Well, he was just 15 when this big responsibility of restoring the world fell on his shoulders, but even a 15-year-old should know about the importance of sleep.

You peek your head through the curtain that works as the laboratory door and see him, staring at a glass full of an unknown chemical substance, unknown to you at least. 

He then turns his head to look at you, staring you up and down. “(Name)? What are you doing here? Why aren’t you sleeping?” He questions you and continues stirring the substance.

“I could ask you the same thing, really.” You let out a small sigh and walk into the laboratory, the only light here being two lightbulbs, which are enough to illuminate the whole working space. On the table could be seen a bunch of makeshift equipment and a cute drawing of you two, made by Suika.  Seriously though, what was she thinking when she drew it? 

“I’m working, obviously.” He stated as he put down the beaker, finally turning to me.

“Well then, get a break, and let’s go to sleep. It’s like 1 a.m. already!” You tell him sternly, there’s no room for debate. 

And so he quickly cleans his work space and goes along with you, back into the science shed. You waste no time laying back down into the comfort of your bed, even though you could hardly call it that.

Senku, albeit quite annoyed, also joins you. He slowly lies down, surprisingly closer than usual.

“Hey, (Name)?” He calls out to you. “Is there anything you miss? From the modern world, I mean.” He asks, and you turn to look at him, confused at where this question is even coming from.

“I miss a lot of things, honestly.” You start slowly, tearing your eyes from his. “Like good ramen, sushi- oh I miss that so much, I hope we get rice soon.” You take a breath in; after all, this is a lot to talk about. “I miss our classmates, even if they were annoying sometimes.” You look back at him, finding his red eyes, which are reflecting the night sky from the window behind you. “I miss the life with barely any responsibilities.” 

He nodded along, agreeing with all of this. “Oh, and I also miss our sleepovers. I guess we have a sleepover every day now, but I miss playing videogames with you and eating snacks.” You sigh.

“I swear, I’ll make sure the civilization returns as soon as possible, (Name).” He looks me in the eyes. “For you,” he breathes out.

“What’s that even supposed to mean?” you chuckle nervously. 

“Whatever you want it to.” He smiles at me and then turns around. Falling asleep faster than you’d think is possible. 

“HEY- !”

───────────────────

[ashthesalamipiece]

Can you write a fanfic about Kiribaku X reader where they have been married for a few years and have teenage daughter. Lately they have noticed her being more "Dreamy" And out of the world. One night they all are going to check up on her after hearing some concerning sounds. Opening the door, they find her in a quite, embarrassing position. Having sex with a secret boyfriend that, tonight. She had snuck in through the window. You can choose the rest.

"Don’t Climb Through Our Damn Window"

Pairing: Kirishima x Bakugou x Reader

Featuring: Their teen daughter, chaos, and a very unlucky teenage boyfriend.

---

It all starts at 1:13 a.m.

You're awoken not by pregnancy cravings, not by your bladder, but by a thud. A very suspicious one.

You shift under the blankets with a groan, hand on your growing belly. “Eiji. Katsuki.”

Kirishima stirs first. “Hmm? Baby okay?”

Bakugou's voice follows, half-asleep and already pissed. “Tch. That sounded like it came from her room.”

You all freeze.

Silence.

Then… another thud. And a muffled giggle.

You, Kirishima, and Bakugou stare at each other in the dark. Slowly, simultaneously, all three of you throw off the covers.

Kirishima tries to reason with the universe. “Maybe she’s just watching a show…”

“She better not be fucking watching anything that makes her laugh like that at 1 AM,” Bakugou mutters, already stomping down the hall.

You wobble behind them in your robe, seven months pregnant, ready to destroy or cry — whichever comes first.

---

THE SCENE

Bakugou flings the door open.

“What the fu—”

Chaos.

Your daughter is half-buried under the covers. A sweaty, half-naked boy — definitely not family approved — lets out a yelp and dives under the blankets like he’s in a war zone.

Your daughter screams.

You gasp.

Kirishima's mouth falls open. “Oh.”

Bakugou short-circuits. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!”

“Katsuki, the baby!” you cry, grabbing his arm. He’s shaking with rage. You’re shaking with hormones.

“YOU SNUCK A BOY INTO OUR HOME?! THROUGH THE DAMN WINDOW?!”

“I—DAD! STOP YELLING!!”

Kirishima, bless his soul, tries diplomacy. “Okay, let’s all calm down—”

“CALM?!” Bakugou points toward the lump under the blanket. “THERE��S A PANTSLESS TEENAGER IN OUR DAUGHTER’S BED!”

You blink rapidly. “Wait. Did you even use protection?! Do we need to give you the talk again?!”

Your daughter whines, pulling a pillow over her head. “This is so humiliating!”

“It should be!” Bakugou snaps. “Next time, you better hope the fire escape collapses under him!”

From under the blanket, a shaky voice: “Should I… go?”

Bakugou: “If you value your fucking life, yeah.”

---

EXIT STRATEGY

The boy tries to sneak out the window the way he came. Halfway out, his pants around one ankle, he slips. You shriek. Kirishima lunges and catches him by the hoodie midair like a pro-hero dad.

He hauls him back inside, sets him down.

“Shoes. Pants. Dignity. Now.”

The boy scrambles to obey.

Bakugou points a threatening finger in his face. “If you ever come near this window again, I will install lasers. Do you hear me, dipshit?”

“Y-Yes sir! I swear this won’t happen again!”

“Oh it won’t,” you mutter, patting your belly. “Not if I go into early labor from this circus.”

---

AFTERMATH

Once the boy is gone and the window is double-locked, your daughter is sitting on her bed, red-faced, arms crossed.

“You ruined my life.”

Kirishima sits beside her. “Sweetheart, you sneaking a boy into your room ruined your own life.”

Bakugou’s pacing like a wild animal. “I can’t believe this. I trained her better. She knows tactics. Stealth. AND SHE BLEW IT FOR A HORMONAL MAKEOUT SESSION?”

You groan. “Babe. My water didn’t break, but my will to live almost did.”

Your daughter looks up, guilt in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Kirishima kisses her forehead. “We’ll talk in the morning. But sneaking around isn’t how you do relationships, okay?”

“And,” Bakugou growls, “if he ever shows up again—pregnant or not—I will blast his ass back down that drainpipe.”

---

THE END.

Or… the beginning of another hilarious therapy story.

[cryogeniccrush]

“Soft on You” (bucky barnes x f!reader) 18+

Part Two: Sweet Girl in Distress

Summary: You had one job—just one. Survive a regular Tuesday. Instead, you woke up from a dream that should be illegal, delivered coffee to the most gorgeous man alive, and somehow ended the day fearing for your job. The girls have theories. Bucky has a plan. And your sanity? Rapidly vanishing.

Word count: 6k

Warnings: heavy yearning, one (1) sex dream, reader blushing violently, inappropriate workplace tension, mutual emotional delusion, meddling coworkers, Bucky being accidentally hot, reader being so down bad it’s concerning, light language

part one • masterlist • next part

The sheets twisted around your legs.

A hand brushed your hip—warm, rough, familiar. It curled around your waist and pulled you closer.

His voice was a whisper at your ear, low and thick and reverent.

“Does that feel alright, sweet girl?”

You gasped, but the sound didn’t reach your lips. Not with his mouth already there. Pressing. Kissing. Worshiping. You arched into him, head tilting back as his teeth scraped lightly down your jaw and—

You shot upright in bed.

Eyes wide. Hair a mess. Breath stuck somewhere in your chest.

Oh my God.

You slammed your pillow over your face and screamed into it. A long, muffled, tortured sound.

“What is wrong with me?”

The alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. You rolled over and checked your phone.

6:04 a.m.

You didn’t need to be up for another two hours.

But there was no way you were going back to sleep now. Not with the ghost of Bucky Barnes’s dream hands still gripping your thighs.

You got dressed, grabbed your coat, and fled.

════════════════════════════════

Winter bit at your nose as you sat on a cold metal bench, legs crossed, scarf tucked under your chin. The world was just beginning to wake. Cars rolled by with sleepy drivers. A man jogged past with a husky. Two women walked arm-in-arm, laughing under their breath. Lovers, maybe. Or something close.

Your eyes flicked to their hands. Intertwined. Swinging softly.

You swallowed the sudden lump in your throat.

“What would it feel like…” you murmured, “…to hold his hand?”

To wake up every morning and see that face—those sleepy eyes, that grumpy half-smile.

You shook your head hard.

“What the hell is wrong with me? Am I crazy now?”

Yes. The answer was probably yes.

You bundled deeper into your coat, tugged the collar higher. At least you’d dressed warm: pants, turtleneck, and basically every other thing you found in your closet. Your hair was down today. A new perfume clung to your skin—sweet citrus with a hint of amber.

☕ 7:39 a.m. – At the Café

The coffee shop door chimed as you stepped inside, warmth curling around your boots.

“Hey, you’re early today!” the barista beamed from behind the counter.

You smiled. “Couldn’t sleep.”

She tilted her head. “The usual?”

“Yup,” you said. “And… an espresso too.”

The barista smiled, scribbling on the cups. “Smiley face today?”

You hesitated.

Your breath caught just a little.

“No,” you said softly. “Not today.”

She blinked. “Oh. Well—I hope it’s back soon.”

You gave her a small, lopsided smile. “Yeah. Me too.”

🏢 7:56 a.m. – The Building

The lobby was still quiet—eerily so. That pre-9 a.m. silence that only happened in government buildings, where the fluorescent lights buzzed a little too loud and the air smelled like over-waxed floors and bureaucracy.

Only two people were ever here this early:

Mark, the security guard, and Congressman Barnes.

You didn’t know why Bucky came in before everyone else. Maybe he liked the quiet. Maybe he couldn’t sleep. Maybe he was just that dedicated.

Whatever the reason, it meant the office always felt... different in the morning. Slower. Still. Like the whole building was holding its breath.

“Morning, sunshine!” Mark called from the front desk, voice bright as ever.

“Hi, Mark,” you said, smile already blooming. “I have something for you.”

You handed him the espresso. His eyes lit up.

“Oh, this is perfect. You got my order down now, huh?”

“I have a gift,” you teased, tapping your temple. “Also, you always look out for me. I figured it’s my turn.”

He patted his chest dramatically. “I’m gonna cry.”

“Don’t cry, just enjoy it.”

Mark walked you to the elevator, pressed the button for your floor, and gave a playful salute as the doors slid shut.

Okay, you thought.

Deep breath. You can do this.

Little did you know, that’s exactly when the universe (and Bucky, and literally everyone else) decided to start testing your patience.

════════════════════════════════

📋 Test #1: His Office ✅

The scent hit you first.

Bergamot. Old paper. Cedar. And… something else. Him.

Sunlight filtered through the blinds like a dream. And there he was—silhouetted by the window, mug in hand. Hair falling into his eyes. Sleeves rolled. Tie loose.

Death, you thought. I’ve entered death. This is the afterlife.

You stepped in and handed him his coffee. He took it without looking at first, murmured a distracted “Thanks,” and then—He paused.

Glanced down at the cup.

Still no smiley face.

His fingers brushed over the sleeve, thumb hesitating where the little doodle usually went. A tiny crease formed between his brows.

“You beat me today, sweet girl,” he said finally, looking up at you with a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

You held your breath.

“I had a weird dream,” you said too fast, setting a stack of papers on his desk. “Didn’t feel like going back to sleep.”

He turned slowly.

His eyes were curious. Gentle. Unreadable.

“What kind of dream?”

You blinked.

Lie. Lie fast. “I… don’t remember, something weird.”

He raised a brow, moving closer as he flipped through the files you’d delivered.

“Weird how?” he asked, almost to himself. “Weird like… insects?”

Oh my God.

“Weird like nonsense?”

Please stop talking.

He leaned in just slightly.

Or maybe the room shrank.

“Or weird like… something else?”

Your brain blue-screened. You stood so fast your chair almost fell.

“I—don’t remember,” you squeaked.

Bucky glanced up. Smirked.

“Aja,” he said softly.

Then: “You can go to your desk now, Lila.”

You didn’t walk—you escaped. Like the room was on fire and your entire nervous system short-circuited.

You didn’t breathe again until you sat down.

You just put your head down and whimpered softly into your keyboard.

📋 Test #2 – Thumbgate ✅

A little later, the office began to fill in. The quiet hum of early morning gave way to rustling bags, soft chatter, and the hiss of the espresso machine down the hall.

Katt came in first, hair damp and messy from a rushed shower. She clocked you instantly.

“Girl, you look like a panda. Did you sleep at all?”

You threw a paperclip at her. “Love you too.”

Mai walked in behind her, sunglasses still on indoors. She didn’t even sit before smirking. “Let me guess—you were up all night thinking about what it’d feel like if he proposed to you.”

Your jaw dropped. “No!”

She raised a brow.

You pouted. “I just… had a weird dream, okay?”

“Weird like what?” Katt asked, settling into her chair with way too much interest.

You looked at your screen. “Nothing. Drop it.”

They exchanged a silent, knowing look.

You tried to disappear into your keyboard.

You finished the reports. Perfect. Flawless. Color-coded like the neurotic overachiever you were.

You looked at Mai...

She looked at you...

You glared.

She pointed toward Bucky’s office like she was casting a curse.

You pouted. Then trudged forward like a soldier marching into war.

He was at his desk, reading. You set the folder down with practiced grace.

His thumb brushed yours.

Your heart hiccupped. Skipped. Maybe died.

You walked out like nothing happened.

Then sat down and whispered to Mai: “I think I need to be resuscitated.”

📋Test #3 – The Chair Incident ✅

Katt and Mai were gossiping about something involving Legal when it happened.

Bucky walked out of his office—paper in hand—and made a beeline straight to your cubicle.

Katt blinked, mid-sip of iced tea. “Uh… is he coming over here?”

Mai squinted. “He’s definitely coming over here.”

You pretended not to notice. Focused hard on your screen. Didn’t even flinch when he stopped right beside you.

“So… Katt,” Bucky said, awkward and low. “That, um, that presentation yesterday—really great job.”

Katt blinked. “Thanks, Mr. Barnes. That’s… literally my job?”

He nodded. “Right. Yeah. Just saying.”

Then he turned to you.

You nearly passed out.

He walked around behind you and gently—gently—adjusted your chair.

You froze.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself like that,” he said quietly, fingers brushing the back of your seat. “Neck strain.”

Then… silence.

The office had stopped breathing.

Bucky glanced up and realized everyone was staring. Katt’s mouth was open. Mai was gripping her desk like it owed her money.

Panic flickered in his eyes.

“I—I just can’t have my employees getting hurt,” he said, voice a little too loud. He laughed awkwardly. “Ergonomics, right? Haha.”

He pointed randomly. “Good posture, Jason. Keep it up.”

From across the cubicle, a confused voice: “Uh, it’s Jackson, Mr. Barnes.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky nodded, backing up. “That’s what I said. Jackson.”

And then he disappeared into his office like a man fleeing the scene of a crime.

Katt’s jaw dropped. “Did he just—did he just adjust your chair?”

Mai blinked. “He totally did that on purpose.”

Katt slapped Mai’s arm. “Omg her brain stopped working. Look at her. She’s paralyzed.”

Mai crouched beside you like an emergency medic. “Okay. Deep breaths. Come on, babe. Inhale. Exhale.”

You inhaled.

You exhaled.

You remembered how close his mouth was.

You inhaled harder.

Katt smacked your arm. “Girl, not in labor! Normal breathing!”

📋 Test #4 – The Tie Emergency ✅

Your name echoed through the phone system: “Lila, Mr. Barnes would like to see you.”

You stopped at his door, took a breath, and silently prayed—to every god, goddess, saint, and minor deity you could think of—for the survival of your last two brain cells.

Then you entered his office like you were walking into a dragon’s den.

He stood in front of the mirror, hair slightly messy, shirt half-buttoned, tie in hand.

“I need you,” he said breathlessly.

You short-circuited.

“…Excuse me?” you squeaked.

He turned. “To help with this damn tie.”

You blinked.

He frowned at the tie like it had personally betrayed him. “I’ve tried three knots, and they all look like I’m going to a middle school dance.”

You walked over, heart in your throat.

He stepped close.

Too close.

You reached up. Fingers brushed his collar. His chest. Your entire bloodstream dissolved into glitter.

“This one?” you managed.

He met your eyes, that rare softness flickering.

“You always pick well,” he murmured.

You almost dropped the tie.

You didn’t breathe until you were safely in the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face like a woman in crisis.

“He’s trying to kill me,” you muttered. “That’s what this is. Slow emotional death.”

📋Test #5 – The Yelena Incident ✅

Bucky had decided to call a team meeting. Something about "transparency" and "better internal communication"—his words, but clearly following instructions from Charlie, the team’s ever-enthusiastic manager. Charlie was great. Bright. Energetic. Occasionally too energetic. But manageable. Hence: mandatory morning meeting.

That’s why you were all in the conference room, suffering in collective silence.

You sat at the end of the table, pen in hand, pretending to take notes while your soul hovered ten feet above your body.

Bucky sat at the head of the table, talking budget.

You weren’t listening.

Because he kept looking at you.

Not once.

Not twice.

Five times in ten minutes.

Your pen almost exploded from how tightly you were holding it.

Yelena slid into the chair beside you with a devious grin.

“You good?” she whispered.

“Peachy,” you whispered back.

“You don’t look good.”

You gulped. “Caught the flu. Or the plague.”

Yelena’s eyes flicked to Bucky.

He was watching.

She smirked.

“You know you’re cute, right?” she whispered, just loud enough.

Your soul left your body.

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. Jaw flexed.

“Th-thank you,” you whispered.

Yelena beamed. “Look, Barnes. She blushed. That’s fucking adorable.”

Bucky’s voice dropped into a hiss:

“I see that, Yelena.”

Katt covered her mouth. Mai blinked like she’d just seen a live fire.

You stared at the table, praying it would swallow you whole.

════════════════════════════════

You were in the break room, wedged between Katt and Mai on the old green couch, a cookie in one hand and your cup of tea in the other. The overhead lights buzzed slightly. The heater ticked. Outside, the city dragged itself through another gray, winter afternoon—but in here, it was warm. Safe. Friendly.

Natalie, the new girl from the communications team, was leaning against the counter, texting someone and grinning to herself.

“Okay,” Mai said, stretching her legs out in front of her. “Let’s talk vacations. Where are we going?”

“Greece,” Katt said immediately. “I want to be chaotic in Santorini.”

“I want to go to Japan,” Natalie added. “Cherry blossoms. Cute cafes. That kind of vibe.”

“I just want sleep,” you muttered into your mug.

“Poor baby,” Katt cooed dramatically as you leaned your head against her shoulder. “She’s been emotionally tortured all day.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, eyes heavy. “He’s everywhere.”

“For me, it’s pretty clear,” Mai said, sipping her chai. “You both like each other. And you’re both the same amount of stupid.”

You blinked. “That’s… a very bold theory.”

“Not bold. Obvious.”

You didn’t argue. Mostly because you didn’t have the energy.

Natalie perked up. “Have you guys heard the rumors?”

All three of you said, “What rumors?” at the same time, like a Greek chorus of doom.

She looked over her shoulder, eyes wide. “Charlie told me—during the meeting prep—that Bucky mentioned he’s eyeing people for the secretary position.”

You sat bolt upright, nearly spilling your tea.

“WHAT?!”

“Shhhhhh,” the three of them hissed in unison, grabbing your arms like you were about to be escorted from the premises.

You flopped back into the chair and clutched your hair. “I’m so fired. This is it. This is my funeral. Start planning it. Lilac flowers. Closed casket. Bury me with my organizational binder.”

“No, no, no!” Natalie said quickly. “I don’t think he’s firing you. I think he’s just… overwhelmed. It’s a big job. Maybe he thinks you need help?”

“Or maybe he’s giving you early vacation,” Katt offered, munching on a cookie. “You’ve been working nonstop since summer.”

“Okay,” Mai said, clapping her hands once. “Let’s all calm down. You’re literally the best secretary this building’s ever seen. You’re at the top of the Secretarial Hunger Games rankings. Borderline neurotic. Flawless in heels. The man literally drinks your coffee like it’s communion wine. I highly doubt you’re getting fired.”

“…Okay,” you said, very softly. “:(”

════════════════════════════════

Bucky’s Office – Before the Meeting

Yelena was asleep on his couch again, snoring softly, one hand draped over her eyes.

Bucky stared at his desk, chewing the inside of his cheek.

She looked tired.

She’s always tired. Shit.

He slammed his hand on the desk, sending a stack of folders skittering.

Yelena jumped, nearly falling off the sofa. “Happy Christmas, what the fuck?”

“I know what to do,” Bucky said, standing like he was about to deliver a battle speech.

Yelena squinted. “Oh God.”

“I’m giving her a vacation.”

She blinked. “You mean… like normal bosses do?”

He ignored the sarcasm and opened a drawer, pulling out a thick stack of résumés—applications they kept on hand “just in case.” He slammed them onto the desk.

“Make yourself useful,” he said. “Help me pick a secretary.”

Yelena rolled off the couch, hair wild, snatching a few of the papers. “You know, this would all be so much easier if you just told her you liked her.”

Bucky turned to her like she’d grown a second head. “What do you mean I like her?”

Yelena arched a brow, deadpan. “Really?”

“I don’t—” he made a disgusted noise. “She’s just really good at her job. That’s all.”

Yelena put her feet up on his desk, flipped through a résumé lazily. “Mhm. Sure. Keep lying to yourself, Barnes. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Bucky scoffed, tossing another folder aside. “Where are the decent candidates? Is there no one competent left in this city?”

Yelena smirked without looking up. “You’re one to talk.”

════════════════════════════════

🌙 6:04 p.m.

You knocked twice.

“Come innnn,” Yelena sing-songed through the door.

You poked your head in.

She was draped across the couch like royalty. Bucky was still at his desk, sleeves rolled up, brows furrowed—but his eyes softened when he saw you.

“I’m heading out, Mr. Barnes,” you said, careful not to let your voice crack from exhaustion. “Need anything before I go?”

He looked up at you, took you in for a moment. “I’ll manage,” he said, voice gentler than usual. “Go home. Rest.”

You nodded. “Okay. Goodnight, Mr. Barnes.” You gave Yelena a tiny wave. “Bye, Yelena.”

“Bye, cutie.” she called, winking.

You blushed so hard your ears burned and closed the door behind you like it might keep your heart from leaping out.

════════════════════════════════

Outside, the wind was sharp and cold against your cheeks. Katt stood on your right. Mai on your left. Three exhausted women against the world.

“We should have a girls’ night,” Katt said, tugging her scarf up. “I’m talking wine, chocolate, reality TV that makes us dumber.”

“I’m too tired,” you mumbled as you reached your building. “Maybe tomorrow?”

Mai kissed your cheek. ��Sleep well, Lila. And none of that dreaming about metal arms and sexy workplace power dynamics.”

You groaned. “You’re both the worst.”

“Love you too,” Katt said, waving.

You watched them walk away, then headed upstairs.

Your apartment was warm but too quiet.

You curled into bed in mismatched pajamas, staring at the ceiling.

What if I am getting fired?

Or replaced?

Your pillow didn’t have any answers. Just the lingering scent of that citrus perfume you wore this morning.

Still, sleep came faster than you thought.

But peace didn’t.

First of all—THANK YOU.

The love for Part One has absolutely melted my brain in the best way. Every comment, every tag, every scream. I read them all. I giggled. I kicked my feet. You guys make writing this so fun and I’m so grateful. Thank you thank you thank you. 💓

Now. Part Two.

Bucky is confused. The reader is malfunctioning.

We got dream sex, thumb brushes, ergonomic warfare, and a chair adjustment so intimate it caused a spiritual crisis.

Charlie still hasn’t figured out that he’s managing a romantic comedy and not a congressional team, and I think that’s beautiful.

Anyway, buckle up. This is only the beginning of the blushing violence, and Yelena being the best wingwoman against Bucky’s will.

More chaos soon. <3

Taglist: @jenniferpendragon , @iyskgd , @amarveloustime222 , @httpkoylinnn 💓

[mooonage-daydreamer]

hey guys! this is my first ever micro-fic for the marauders! i hope it’s ok xx

marauders playing monopoly- 705 words - hope u enjoy!

It was already 11 p.m; how is it possible for a monopoly game to last this long? Remus thought to himself. Mary had fallen asleep on Lily’s shoulder, Remus was reading his book, and James looked as though he was on the verge of tears; it was just Sirius and Marlene shouting at each other. Remus was certain no one had any idea what they were arguing over at this point, but none of them really cared; they all wanted the game to just finish already. Finally, the arguing died down, but then Lily nudged him to draw his attention from his book and let him know it was his turn. Why did he agree to ever play in the first place?

“Remind me to never play monopoly with Sirius and Marlene again," he asked Lily. She looked just as fed up as he was and sighed in agreement. He took his turn, and unfortunately, he landed on Sirius’ property.

“HA!” Sirius exclaimed, “That will be 200 quid, thank you very much, my dear Moony!”

“I’ve ran out of money," replied Remus. He hadn’t really; he just didn’t have the energy to play anymore.

“WHAT!” replied Sirius angrily. “THEN HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GET PAYED?"

“Padfoot! Calm down!” James said.

“BUT HE NEEDS TO PAY ME! HE LANDED ON MY PROPERTY, SO HE MUST PAY ME! THATS HOW THE GAME WORKS!” argued Sirius.

“That wasn’t the rule five minutes ago when you landed on my property," Marlene retorted quietly.

“Look,” James replied, “why don’t we just call it quits for tonight? We’re all tired, and we want to go to bed.”

Everyone nodded their heads in agreement except Sirius and Marlene, of course.

“THATS NOT FAIR THOUGH!” they shouted in unison. They glanced at each other, then back at James.

“If you two are so desperate to win,” interrupted Remus, “why don’t you two just carry on?”

For the first time in that long evening, everyone agreed, even Sirius and Marlene.

“Fine.” Marlene said while glaring at Sirius.

They all knew it was a bad idea to leave the two most competitive people alone while playing a board game, but they were all too tired to care. Peter, James, Remus, Lily, and Mary all headed upstairs to go to bed, but only minutes later they heard more shouting.

"NO, YOU DONT DESERVE MY MONEY!” screamed Marlene.

"THAT IS NOT HOW THE GAME WORKS!” screeched Sirius.

"WELL, THE RULES ARE ABSOLUTE BULLSHIT! WHY SHOULD I GIVE MY HARD-EARNED MONEY TO A CRIMINAL?” Marlene shrieked.

“ITS NOT MY FAULT IM IN JAIL!” yelled Sirius.

“Ok, rock, paper, scissor, who goes down to sort this out as they clearly can’t sort it out themselves?" suggested Remus.

“Good idea,” Lily responded, “rock, paper, scissors shoot!”

“For fuck sake,” Remus complained, “it was my idea; why do I have to do it?"

“Remus, please,” Peter said, “we don’t give a shit what you do, just sort it.”

"Ugh, fine,” he replied. So Remus made his way down the stairs, but just as soon as he reached the bottom, Sirius bombarded him with questions.

“MOONY! "DON'T YOU AGREE WITH ME?" he asked. “RULES ARE RULES RIGHT?”

Remus just ignored him and slowly started walking over to the monopoly board. Once he reached the board, he looked them both in the eye and just flipped the board upside down. “There”, he thought, the game was finished.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Sirius and Marlene screamed at him.

Ignoring them, Remus began making his way back up the stairs to join the others. Peter looked at him with genuine fear in his face. “Moony, what have you done?" he asked.

“We all wanted the game to end, right?” he said. There were murmurs of agreement.

“So I just did the simplest thing and flipped the board over.”

"Oh, Moony, mate, you’re absolutely fucked.”

James told him.

“I mean, someone had to do it,” Mary responded while yawning. “Does this mean we can go to bed now?”

“Yes,” Lily said almost immediately, “come on.”

It was almost 1 a.m. when the screaming finally died down. Remus assumed they had fallen asleep while arguing. ‘I’m chucking that board game out when I wake up tomorrow’, Remus thought to himself

[obitez]

Hundred Mile High

Written for @buckandbobbyweek Day 1: “Can you come pick me up?” & “Are you hurt?”

Bobby had felt like he had just fallen asleep, Athena was working a night shift, and both Harry and May were at sleepovers at friends’ places, when he was woken up by the sound of his phone ringing. 

He sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face as he reached over to the bed stand for his phone, looking at the screen. Buck’s name on it front and center. 

Why was Buck calling him on a… Tuesday night? 

Bobby swiped his finger on the screen to pick up the call, and brought it up to his face. “Buck?” he asked. 

“H- Hey, Bobby,” Buck greeted him back. His voice sounded off, like he was sort of out of it. Bobby didn't know what Buck had plans Buck had that night, but whatever they were, it didn’t sound like things had ended up going to plan. 

“Buck, what’s wrong?” Bobby asked

“Bobby, do you think you could,” Buck’s voice trailed off as he was distracted by something that Bobby couldn’t see. There was a crashing sound resembling boxes falling on the ground somewhere in the background, and Buck’s voice came back. “Bobby, can you come pick me up?” he asked. 

“Pick you up?” Bobby repeated. 

“Y-yeah,” Buck said. “I- I forgot where I parked my Jeep and- and I don’t think I should be driving right now.”

“Buck, are you alone?” Bobby felt the need to ask. He knew that Buck occasionally went out downtown alone, but on those nights Bobby knew he didn’t stay out until… he glanced at the time… 1:30 a.m.

“Um…” Buck started, and again, Bobby heard the sound of a crash in the background. 

“Are you somewhere safe?” Bobby asked. 

“Yeah, kind of,” Buck said, and Bobby did not want to know what ‘kind of’ meant in this case. “Hey, I’ll send you my location,” Buck said. “Can you please come pick me up?”

Bobby said yes, if only so that he would know where Buck was and actually be able to try and help him from whatever situation he had found himself in. 

When Buck’s location came through to his phone, Bobby could only thank God that he was only a fifteen minute drive away. 

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

Bobby followed the directions on his phone pointing to where Buck had marked his location. As he was driving he could only pray that Buck would still be there when he arrived. He should have really forced Buck to stay on the phone with him until he arrived. 

He pulled his truck over to the side of the road when his phone showed he was nearly on top of Buck’s location. He looked out of the side window, but even in the fairly bright light of the streetlights, he couldn’t see anyone. 

Bobby sighed as he turned off the truck and got out, locking it behind him. “Buck?” he called out. He didn’t hear any response. 

He brought his phone up and began to call Buck, keeping an ear out to hear the other man’s ringtone. Before he could hear it, Buck answered the phone. “Bobby?” he heard Buck’s voice ask. 

Bobby nearly let out a sigh of relief. “Buck, I’m at where your location shows. Where are you?” he asked. 

“Oh, I’m-” Buck still sounded dazed, even more than earlier. Bobby really needed to find him - and fast. “I’m in the back.”

In the back? 

For the umpteenth time that night, Bobby just had to ask himself what kind of mess Buck had gotten himself into. 

Bobby walked down one of the side alleyways, keeping an ear out so he could hopefully pick up on any sounds coming through Buck’s side of the phone call. 

And there, Bobby found Buck sitting on the ground, his back against the brick wall of the rear of some closed store Bobby didn’t look at the name of when he walked by. 

“Buck,” Bobby said as he ran up to the man and squatted down next to him. Buck’s head lolled to the side and he blinked slowly as he looked up at Bobby. 

Well, at least Buck was still conscious. That had to be a good thing. 

“Bobby~” Buck said, his voice slurring. “You’re here.” 

“Yeah, I’m here,” Bobby scanned his eyes up and down Buck’s body, looking for any obvious injury but not seeing anything besides some scuffs on his shoes and a tear on his jeans that didn’t look like it was there on purpose. “What happened to you?” 

Buck hummed, his eyes giving a tight blink before he opened them up again. “Don’t know,” he said. “Was inside… middle of a drink. Then just… started feeling bad.” Oh God, don’t tell him that Buck got drugged.  “Then I was out here, phone in my hand and called you,” Buck said, lifting up his left hand to show the phone that was still in it.  

“How much did you have to drink tonight?” Bobby asked. 

“Ughh…” Buck moaned. “Only remember… I was just starting a second beer.”

So unless Buck had a large gap in his memory, and Bobby suspected he had some type of memory gap, Buck hadn’t actually had that much to drink, especially from what Bobby knew the man could usually hold. 

Bobby looked up and down the alleyway, knowing Athena would probably kill him if she knew he hadn’t done so when he first entered. But he didn’t see anyone else or anything out of place. 

“Okay, how about we get out of here now,” Bobby said as he stood up and held a hand out to help Buck stand up. Buck reached an arm out, clumsily grabbing hold of Bobby’s hand. He then stood up, or tried to, his legs buckling as soon as he got his feet underneath him. 

“Okay,” Bobby said as he grabbed hold of Buck’s arm and wrapped it around his shoulders, supporting the younger man’s weight so he could stand. 

“I thought you said you were somewhere safe?” Bobby said as they walked back to his truck. 

“I was,” Buck slurred. “No one was around me.” 

“That does not mean you’re safe,” Bobby said. 

Getting back to his truck, Bobby opened his passenger side door and helped Buck get inside. Buck’s head was already listing to the side as he sat in the seat. “Buck,” Bobby lightly tapped his cheek. “At least stay awake until we get back to my house.”

Buck mumbled something that if Bobby had to guess was ‘Just take me back to my place.’ 

Yeah, Bobby was not doing that. 

At least not until he found out just what happened to Buck. 

Bobby drove back to his and Athena’s house, giving the occasional glance to his right at Buck the entire way. He thought that at some point, Buck had fallen asleep, but was proven wrong as he pulled into his driveway and heard Buck’s voice softly ask, “Why are we at your place?” 

“You don’t honestly think I’ll be dropping you off alone when you’re like this, do you?” Bobby asked. 

Buck pouted as he crossed his arms. “I’ll be fine by myself.” 

“You couldn’t even stand on your feet twenty minutes ago,” Bobby said. 

Buck let out a displeased hum as he sank further into his seat, bringing his crossed arms tighter around him. Bobby took the opportunity to turn the truck off and went around to the other side and opened the passenger door. 

As Bobby again wrapped Buck’s arms around his shoulder and began walking with him towards the house. 

“What about the others?” Buck mumbled and asked as Bobby worked to unlock the front door. “Don’t wanna bother them.”

“Don’t worry,” Bobby said. “Athena’s working. Neither of the kids were here tonight anyway.”

Walking inside, Bobby walked Buck over to the couch, where Buck promptly moved his legs to lie down fully and then got comfortable. Watching him, it looked to Bobby that Buck had fallen asleep near instantly. 

Bobby had half a thought that he really should give Buck a full medical check before he let the man fall into a deep sleep, but looking at his relaxed face, Bobby hadn’t the heart to ask Buck to wake up. 

“So much for not wanting to stay over here,” Bobby muttered to himself. 

“S’not like you would let me leave anyway,” Buck mumbled, his voice muffled by the way his face was pressed into the couch cushions. 

Yeah, so much for Buck telling Bobby to take him home earlier.

⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐ ⭐

The next morning, despite having gone to bed at almost 2 a.m., Bobby woke up at 8, about fifteen minutes before Athena came in. 

Bobby had been making a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Buck was still fast asleep on the couch, the only sign of life being his breathing and the occasional twitch of muscle, when he heard the front door open and the sound of Athena’s footsteps walk inside. He heard her footsteps stop right in the entrance to the living room. 

“Bobby?” Athena asked. “Why is Buck asleep on our couch?” 

That was… an interesting question. 

One that Bobby didn’t really have a full answer to. 

“What if I told you he called me last night after midnight needing to get picked up?” Bobby said. 

“And if I asked what happened to him where he couldn’t get himself home?” Athena asked. 

“For that…” Bobby paused. “We never really got around to talking about that last night.”

[scar-lie]

You’re Mine [Scarlett]

Summary : Scarlett got jealous over Tom Hiddleston

Pairing : Scarlett Johansson x Actress ! Fem ! Reader

Warning : Curse, unprotected sex, cock warming, rough sex, praise kink, creampie

Word count : 1,877

ORIGINALLY POSTED IN WATTPAD

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it let me know.

We're here on the set of Civil War. Well, it's 1 a.m., and here we are outside talking around a bonfire, eating marshmallows, and just asking one another

I'm sitting besides Scar, my girlfriend of 3 years now. We sit in a love seat, and my legs are on top of hers. Her right arm was behind my neck, making it like my pillow, and her left hand was in my inner thigh.

Me, Scar, RDJ, Hemsworth, Evans, Lizzie, Anthony, Sebastian, Jeremy, Paul, and Hiddleston, who visited us and decided to stay the night here, and the others are already asleep in their trailer.

"Ok... Ok Y/N," RDJ said, and look at me. I hum.

"So who's the best kisser and sex you have besides Scarlett?" I look at Scar, who was eyeing all of them, giggling. I'm not sure if I should tell her because things can escalate pretty quickly.

Then I see Lizzie, Anthony, and Paul whispering while giggling. Oh no, they're probably thinking this will be a long night for me and Scar.

"I don't think it's appropriate to talk about it," I say, going even closer to Scar and putting my right arms around her waist, then kissing her neck.

"Oh, come on, it's not like Scar will kill them," Robert teases.

"Yeah, it's just a little game; come on," Anthony says, and I roll my eyes at them.

After some time, they started bugging me. I got irritated and sat up straight.

"FINE. FINE!" I yell frustratedly, then I look at Scar, then at Tom, and I sigh deeply.

"It's Tom," I whisper enough for me to hear, well me and Tom got together 6 years ago; we've been dating for over, like, 6 or 7 years; he's one of my greatest loves, what can I say? He's charming, kind, thoughtful, and everything good; even in bed, he's the second best. Of course, Scar is the best in the bedroom; she makes me feel so good that I've never felt it before.

He's the last ex I have, and after him, 1 year later, Scar courted me, and she spent 2 years earning my yes to be her girlfriend. Why did she spend two years courting me? Well, let's just say that after Tom, I have trouble trusting anyone who likes me, so it takes time to say yes.

"What? Louder Y/N, we can't hear you," Hemsworth said, and I closed my eyes tightly and sighed deeply.

"Tom Hiddleston, ok?" I say louder for them to hear and look at Tom.

Then I heard a loud 'ohh. Then I could feel that Scar are getting jealous, so I broke eye contact with Tom.

"So Tom was good in bed, huh?" Anthony teases, so I just nod, then another 'oohh' again.

"Is he rough? Probably yes! Duh, and probably a Daddy vibe." Robert teases and wiggles his eyebrows looking at me, so I just giggle and roll my eyes at him.

"Robert's right; I'm probably rocking your world," Evans teases and winks at me. I just roll my eyes, and then the teasing goes on until Scar gets involved too, saying that if she can rock my world, Tom can do it too.

So I snuggled up to her; she didn't say a single word this whole teasing time. Feeling her jealousy, her jaw was clenching tightly, so I buried my face in her neck and hugged her, then kissed her neck.

"I love you so much," I whisper, only for her to hear. One last tease, and Scar is already beyond her limits.

She just stood up, put me over her shoulder, and just walked off. I looked at them, and they were winking and thumbing up at me.

"You're welcome," Robert mouthed to me, giving me a thumbs up. I just put my middle finger up for him, and they all chuckled.

Scar, go to her trailer, lock the door, go to the bedroom, and throw me on the bed.

"Sca-" I got cut off when she kissed me aggressively, but I melted to it and kissed her back.

She sat up and tore my shirt off, which made me moan and bite my lips. I saw her bulge, so I touched it but got stopped immediately.

"You don't get to touch me, slut." She husked in my ears and grabbed my both wrists and took a silk rope from her nightstand, then tied it in the bedpost.

"Sca-" I got cut off again by her.

"That's not my name, slut." Then she tied it tightly, but not so tight that it could hurt me.

"Sorry, Mommy," I correct myself, that she smirked, then she tore my PJ pants, which left me with a navy blue lace lingerie set.

"I don't like how you acted minutes ago," She whispered seductively in my ears while she was teasing my folds through my thin fabric underwear.

"Is Tom your best sex mate?" she asks, then rips my underwear, which makes me moan.

"N-no..Mommy." Then she started to circle and put pressure on my clit

"Is he that good in bed, slut, huh?" then she starts to suck on my sweet spot, which makes me gasp and throw my head back, tugging the rope.

"Mo-mommy...." I moan loudly, and she sits up, which makes me whine.

"You're too loud, baby." Then she took my ripped underwear and put it in my mouth.

"You look so beautiful like this slut," she said, then tore my bra too and started to suck my tits.

"Mmmmhhh," I moan, arching my back and chest.

"Are you going to be a good girl?" she husked, reaching into her nightstand, then pulling out a vibrator.

"Mmmmhhh," I moan, and then I hear a vibrating sound that makes me moan.

"Mmhh, I'll take that as a no for an answer." She smirks, then continues sucking my breast, then puts the vibrator on my clitoral area, which makes me squirm.

"Mo-momny..mmhh, please." I moan, the words muffled, and tug the ropes, wanting to touch her.

"Look at you, so desperate to touch me, huh?" Then she went lower and lower until she came face to face with my center.

"Mmmhhh, please, Mommy. Please fuck me." I'm begging, but it's all come out muffled because of the fabric in my mouth. Then I arch my hip towards the vibrator, and she slaps my inner thigh.

"Stay," She growled, so I tried my hardest not to buckle my hips.

"Good girl." She praises me, and she blows an air in my clitoral area that makes me throw my head back.

"AAHH!" I moan, wanting her to just fuck the shit out of me, then she starts to lick me.

"Mmhh, so sweet." Then she put three fingers in me, which made me moan louder and arch my back further.

"So wet for Mommy." Then she started to speed up to an inhuman speed that left me panting.

"Such a good girl for mommy, aren't you, slut?" She took off the vibrator, to be replaced by her mouth sucking it hard.

"AAAHGGHHHHHH!" I'm screaming at this point, and she continued her assault, destroying my pussy

"I'm so close; I'm clenching around her fingers, and when I'm near cumming, she suddenly pulls out and takes her mouth off of my clitoral area, which makes me whine.

"Mmmhhh," I whine, and she slaps my pussy, which makes me jolt up, pleasure rushing through my body.

AAAHHMMMMM," I moan, and she teases my folds.

"You think you can cum that easily, slut? Oh, Mommy has many plans for you." She smirks at me and starts to edge me again, leaving me so desperate to cum.

She did that for like 30 minutes, and the fabric in my mouth was long gone minutes ago, and now she was pumping in and out a fake dildo in me.

"Please........please Mommy, let me cum please, I-I'm sorry......aaahhhhh fu-fuck........ Yo-you're the best of....fu-fuck, the best, please Mommy" I'm gripping the rope tightly, knuckles go white, while I throw my head back and my legs are shaking wanting to cum

"Is that so, slut?" Then again she pulled out, leaving me on the edge.

"Mmhh, yes, Mommy, please........ I-I need you-your.....fat cock inside me, filling me up with your warm seed. Please, Mommy." I moan, bucking my hips to nothing, finding some friction to pleasure me.

"Such a slut for me." Then she suddenly trusted in me instantly, then pulled all the way out. That makes me whine.

"Mmmhhhh, please, please mommy, fuck me. Fuck me senseless, please." I'm rolling my hips to reach out for her, and she chuckled.

"So desperate for Mommy, huh?......" Then she put both legs together on her left shoulder, holding it tight.

"I'm going to fuck you real good; I'm going to destroy this beautiful little cunt of yours." Then she trusted hard and faster, making me moan loudly and grip the head board tightly.

"You. Are. Mine. Slut. Mine," She said with a hard trust, and I didn't say anything or moan because of the pleasure I'm receiving; only our skin slapping can be heard all over the room.

"Not. Tom. Not your exes. Nor anyone. You. Are. Mine," She said, and I was a moaning mess under her.

"I'll make you remember it, slut." My legs are shaking, wanting to cum. I'm so close that I'm clenching around her length, which makes her groan.

"Aaahh. I'm go-gonna cum. Please, Mommy, let me cum." She fastened her pace so much that I thought the bed would break.

"Hold it, slut, you don't get to cum without my permission." She's now jackhammering me, which made me squirm, throw my head back, and acrh my chest.

"AAAHHHHHH, I-I... CAN'T HOLD IT!" I scream, and I know she's close too because of her speed and her member twitching inside me.

"Hold it," She demanded, so I kept holding my orgasm until she's chasing her orgasm.

"Cum." With that one word, I cum hard on her, which makes my cum drip down to her balls and thighs to make a wet patch in the bed, and my cum drips down to my ass hole and butt going to the sheet, creating a wet patch too.

With that, she trusted hard and cummed all over inside me. She kept trusting hard, twitching her member inside me while she shot her warm seed inside me.

"AAAAHHHHHH....FUCK!" I scream with her, and she slows down her trusting to help us from our high.

We were panting while she's still trusting, and she dropped my legs down, and she stopped trusting, looking down to see her dick still deep inside me. That made her moan, and she slumbed down in front of me.

Both of our bodies are covered in our own sweat, but we couldn't care less; we're still panting and recovering from our high.

Then she turned us over, so I'm now on top of her, and she buried my face in her chest.

"I want you to cock warm me, sleep baby." And she kissed my head, and I hummed, tired from our hot session.

"I love you so much," She whispers, hovering over my lips, so I smile and peck her lips.

"I love you more," She chuckled, drawing shapes on my back and playing with my hair.

"Not possible, love." We both giggle until she sings me a lullaby that I love the most.

In just a few minutes, I fall asleep with her, happy and content with who we are and what we have right now!

[whumpfish]

Reference: Psychogenic Fever

You've seen it in anime loads of times: the protagonist overexerts themselves or experiences a highly stressful event, and they dramatically collapse. The next thing you know, they're in bed with a cloth over their forehead and an ally informs the rest of us that they have a fever.

Well, it turns out that can actually happen.

If your immune system is already shot, and you experience acute levels of stress, your body will respond to those stress hormones the way it would normally respond to a virus. Your core heats up, and you develop a full-blown fever.

According to what information I was able to dig up, some patients can develop core temperatures of 41°C/105°F. I didn't apparently record mine when this was going on, but given the temperature dysregulation caused by the seroquel I take that prevents me from cooling off if I get hot and the reverse, and how hot literally anything I touched got, I was probably in that higher range.

The Progression:

I went to bed at around 1:45 a.m. I'd already been through so much stress with my grandfather's funeral, how my dad elected to process grief, and scrambling to get the SSI-D function report that had arrived in our mailbox when I was out of town returned on time, I had already crashed out earlier that day from the energy expenditure. Now, I have ME/CFS, and crashing out after exertion/stress is normal, so nothing stood out as a warning sign. If there was one, I dismissed it as my usual fatigue. I went to sleep.

I woke up about 2.5 hours later, experiencing sleep paralysis--presumably in lieu of a fever dream. When I woke up the rest of the way, I was sweating profusely and feeling about like I'd been mowing the lawn in 105° heat. I've done that, and collapsed from heat exhaustion from it, before. I was hotter at that moment than I had been back then.

I put a wrist to my forehead, and the sensation was like holding a hairdryer on high to my forehead at point-blank range. My pillow was just as hot, and no amount of flipping fixed that. (I should point out here that I normally run cold--ridiculously cold, sleep with the quilt up in the middle of a Texas summer cold--and this never happens unless I am very sick.)

I smelled like fever. Some people don't think you can smell fevers, but I was a sickly child and spent so much of my life in pediatricians' waiting rooms full of feverish children that after a while I noticed a particular smell unique to those environments. Since then, I've been able to accurately identify it elsewhere by that smell.

I was completely confused. I'd had to go into the grocery store without a mask earlier that day because I ran out, but even I don't present that quickly. It couldn't be from that. Some old geek part of me remembered Anime Fever, and on a hunch, I googled "can you give yourself a fever from stress?" And yes. Yes, you can.

I sat up, and when I touched the mattress where I had been sleeping with one hand, it felt like trying to pick a dish up out of the dishwasher immediately after it's through running. It was that hot.

The recommended treatment was anti-inflammatories and any relevant psych meds that can reduce anxiety, so I took 800mg of ibuprofen and an extra, small dose of seroquel. Then I took my clothes off and downed a few bottles of water, my usual trick for cooling down once I've gotten too hot, and sat on the foot of my bed to give my mattress time to cool down before getting back in bed to try to sleep.

The fever broke at around 6:15 a.m., and I was finally able to rotate back to the other side of my mattress and pillow, and go back to sleep. I slept until 1:20 p.m.

The Takeaway: This is a real phenomenon! Use it on your whumpees with poor immune systems, either naturally or broken down from their ordeal. It's no longer just an anime trope.

[wordsofelie]

Chapter 8

🔥Phoenix and Ashes

Suna Rintarou x f!reader

Summary: “It’s funny how nobody believed that we could make it work.” - “Well-maybe they were right.”

Meeting Suna Rintarou wasn’t part of your plan. Dating him, either. Getting your heart smashed into the palms of his hand, even less.

Content Warnings: Timeskip, Manga Spoilers, Alcohol Consumption, Mention of 1 OC, yn is lost & confused

Word count: 4.5k

chapter 1 - chapter 2 - chapter 3 - chapter 4 - chapter 5 - chapter 6 - chapter 7 - chapter 9

184.

That’s the number of days that have passed since you last saw Suna or heard from him. 184 full days, mornings and evenings, without hearing his voice or touching his skin. You can't sleep a wink the night before the twins’ birthday party. You squirm in bed and watch the hours pass.

So many questions run through your mind.

What will happen when you see him? Will he talk to you; look at you? If you have the opportunity to hold him again—will you?

It’s raining outside. You hear the raindrops brushing the trees before crashing against your window. The moon is shining bright and high in the sky, at times, clouds hide it. It’s a typical autumn night, heavy and nostalgic. Just like your heart.

Around 3 a.m. you decide to text Umi.

“I’m scared to see Rintarou,” you admit.

It doesn’t take her long to reply, “I can come if you want.”

Osamu has invited your best friend to the party. Not only because he had known her for years but also because he would feel better if you had her by your side.

“D’ya mind?” He asked his brother.

“Do whatever ya want,” Atsumu said, he tried to look unbothered, but Osamu knew him all too well. Umi and Atsumu haven’t seen each other since high school and their friendship did not end up on good terms. The boy was still holding a grudge towards her. But if he admitted it, he knew his brother would make fun of him for acting like a child. So, he played it tough, pretending that seeing her again after years would be fine (but anyway, that’s another story).

“You should sleep,” you text.

“Says you haha”, followed by “but really, just tell me and I’ll come.”

You stare down at your phone, unsure of what you should do. Since Osamu told her about the party, she has been asking you if you wanted her to come, but you brushed her off each time. However, now that it is only a matter of hours before you see your ex-boyfriend again, you start to freak out.

“If you have nothing planned why not.”

“I don’t! see you tomorrow then, try to have a good night!”

The sound of the rain covers your heartbeat, the caress of the wind against your window masks the trembling of your hands.

It’s going to be okay, you repeat and repeat.

You arrive at the Miya’s apartment before anyone else. You tell Osamu you want to help them (or, rather, him) prepare.

Atsumu comes out of the bathroom when you put the beers you have bought in the fridge.

“Oya, oya dear Mademoiselle.”

You share a surprised look with Osamu—one tinged with mockery and pity. It takes you a lot of self-control not to burst into laughter.

“Ya speak French now? And don’t walk around shirtless.” Osamu sighs.

“Yer my mom or what?” Atsumy says while getting closer to you. “My abs deserve to be shown to the world.”

Your eyes immediately fall on his toned chest and belly. And you must admit that yes, Atsumu’s muscles are indeed well-shaped and nothing compared to his high school days. Despite his childish attitude, he is a man now.

“See, she agrees with me.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and smiles teasingly.

“I never agree-”

“I’ll grab a beer.” The setter cuts you off and opens the fridge.

Osamu strides forward and takes the beer from his brother’s hand, “Calm down ya moron, it’s for tonight.”

“The night is young little bro.”

“Huh?” Osamu frowns, “Never call me that again.”

Atsumu mumbles something back and the argument escalates as always. The starting point of the fight is soon to be completely set aside.

You laugh so hard, that you almost forget the knot in your stomach. Atsumu decides to go back to his room, insults resonating in the whole apartment.

“Why do you guys live together?” You ask, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye.

“Gosh, I don’t know. He pisses me off.” He grumbles.

“But?” You put your hands on your waist and look at him, waiting for your question to be answered—honestly.

“But…” He hesitates then mutters with a shy voice, “Am just used to bein' with him all the time, ya know. It’s -” he clears his throat, “comfortin'.”

The vulnerability in his eyes soothes your heart, you tilt your head and smile. Osamu sees your nose wrikling. He turns around, “Shut up.”

You lift your hands in defence, “I haven't said anything yet”

“But I know exactly what yer thinkin’”

“Can you read my mind, Miya Osamu?”

“I’d rather not.” He glances at you, his back still facing you.

His left profile really is his best, you tell yourself.

You only chuckle after that and stop the conversation here. After all, he is not wrong. Why would he want to read your mind when it’s full of Suna? Paced with the memories of what you shared and tortured by the regret of what could have been. Maybe this incessant ache in your heart and in your thoughts is a reminder of how guilty you should feel for letting your relationship down, for not showing him enough support. Maybe you have been too hard to love and he is happier with someone else.

Or maybe, you truly deserved better?

Maybe he is the one who let you down? Who didn’t fight for you?

Maybe you should be happier with someone else—could you be happy again; loved again?

You open your mouth. Anyone who would see you might think you have seen a ghost. The questions make you feel dizzy so you decide to push them away. You feel the tension of your face ease a little and when Osamu calls you to help him cut avocados to prepare some guacamole, you take a deep breath and join him.

It’s time for the guests to arrive.

Since Kita has some last-minute inconvenience at his farm, Ginjima is the first to arrive. Half an hour passes and the place is almost full.

You stay with Osamu in the kitchen, even if “ya should go talk with everyone”, he tells you. “I like to be with you.” You reassure him—how can he argue with you after that? But your gaze travels to the living room, moves through the clock hanging in the entrance, and stops at the door. And it keeps going there, again and again.

There is a weird combination inside your heart—fear mixed with hope. And each time someone knocks at the door, it hits you like a firework against a dark night; it’s noisy and overwhelming, but it’s also colourful and exciting.

Osamu pours you a glass of lemonade (he bought your favourite) when Suna enters his apartment. You see the discomfort in your friend’s eyes and turn to the direction he is glaring at.

Your body freezes. Your vision follows every single one of his moves—he shakes Atsumu’s hand, smirks when Aran fist-bumps him, takes off his jacket, runs his hands through his hair. Everything is going so fast, or so slow. You don’t know. You start panicking when his footsteps get closer to where you and Osamu are. You look down at the floor, the light reflecting on it is suddenly replaced by Osamu’s shadow. He stands before you, his broad back and shoulders almost hide your ex-boyfriend.

They greet each other while you restrain the tears from falling down your eyes.

“Hey,” you believe you end up saying. He says something back before turning his attention to Osamu.

“Happy birthday man.”

“Thanks bro, it’s nice to see ya.”

You think Osamu is sincere. They are friends after all and you never wished for them to grow apart because of you.

You finally decide to look at Suna—or maybe it’s just instinct, a force stronger than you, which pulls you to do so. It’s the closest you have been to him in months.

His face is perfect, and the shapes of his body outstanding.

You do not meet his eyes though and your heart breaks. You feel stupid, why would he look at you? Why would he want to have a conversation with you? Why would he care about someone as insignificant as y-

“Yer lemonade,” Osamu gives you your drink and smiles, “Want somethin’ to drink?” he proposes to Suna, pointing at the fridge.

“Sure.” The other boy says.

You bite your lips and think, the evening is going to be long and lonely.

If not for the twins you would storm out of this room, run to your parents’ house and muffle your sobs in your pillow.

Atsumu is drunk.

“It’s not even midnight,” Aran says nonchalantly.

Kita lets out a faint sigh, his eyes narrowing as he steps closer to Atsumu. “Atsumu,” he begins, his voice soft but firm enough to catch the setter’s attention. “D’ya want some water?”

“Captain!” Atsumu spins around abruptly, “Am so happy yer here!”

The boy often gives a slap on the back to his friends or teammates, you figured it’s his way of being friendly. It never looks like it hurts (well, it would probably hurt you since Atsumu is a 6’ tall and full-of-muscle athlete, but nobody was ever injured, so he must know how to control his strength). However, with three beers and six shots of sake in his blood, he loses all sense of control.

The slap he gives Kita makes the former captain trip. Suna, who is standing next to Atsumu, steadies him.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kita apologises.

Suna doesn’t understand him at first, Atsumu is the one who acted like an idiot. But then, he starts feeling something stinging on his chest. He realises Kita’s drink has been spilled on his t-shirt (white, of course).

“Sunarin!” Atsumu shouts in Rintarou’s hear, it startles him, “Shit, yer shirt is fucked.”

“It’s fine,” Suna sighs, clearly exasperated.

“’Samu!” Atsumu yells, his voice booming through the apartment.

“Atsumu, stop screaming,” Suna pleads, rubbing his temple as if trying to ward off an impending headache.

But Atsumu ignores him, “go get Sunarin one of yer shirts.”

Osamu, who had been sitting on the couch with you, raises an eyebrow in confusion. “Huh?”

Even in his drunken state, Atsumu seems to pick up on the bothered tone of his brother. “Yer such a shithead,” he mutters, though he probably meant to whisper. He pulls off his own shirt, revealing his toned torso (again), and hands it to Suna. “Wear that.”

Suna hesitates for a moment, but he eventually complies, pulling off his wet shirt.

“Fuck, Sunarin, yer girl is savage!” Atsumu suddenly blurts out, his loud voice cutting through the room like a knife.

You are following the scene from the corner of your eyes. You try as much as possible to not look at your ex-boyfriend, especially not when you see him starting to get shirtless. But when the blond twin screams and an awkward silence follows it, you can’t help but turn to the boys.

If you weren’t sat on the couch, vision perfectly directed to Suna’s back, you wouldn’t have understood what Atsumu meant. But you are sat on the couch and despite the dim light you see the scratches on his back.

“Yer a beast or what?” he continues, giggling like a teenager.

“Atsumu, stop.”

Umi interjects with frustration, but it feels distant, almost surreal to you. She gets up and steps closer to him, placing a gentle hand on his arm in an attempt to calm him down. But Atsumu’s too far gone and he continues to tease the middle blocker. The tension in the room thickens.

Umi tries again, her voice firmer this time, “Atsumu, that’s enough.”

“Oh, so ya know my name, huh? I thought you had nothin’ to do with me.” His slams her hand away and looks down at her, eyes filled with anger.

Osamu sighs and decides to take care of the situation.

As soon as you are left alone on the couch, you slip away from the living room, quietly making your way to the kitchen. The cool air is a relief, but it does little to soothe the turmoil brewing inside you. The tension in the room was suffocating, and you needed to get away from it all—the memories, the stinging pain, the sight of Suna's marked back.

As you lean against the counter, trying to steady your breath, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn to see Osamu, his brow furrowed with concern.

“Yer okay?” he asks, his voice soft, almost hesitant.

You nod quickly, not trusting yourself to speak without your voice cracking. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you manage to say, forcing a smile that you know doesn’t reach your eyes.

Osamu isn’t convinced. He takes a step closer, his gaze searching your face for any sign that you might need him to stay. But you shake your head, more forcefully this time. “Really, Osamu. I’m okay. I just need a moment.” Leave me alone, you beg him in silence.

He hesitates for a moment longer, his eyes lingering on you. Finally, he nods and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze before turning to leave.

The moment he’s gone, you feel the weight of everything you’ve been holding back crash down on you. You glance around the kitchen, your eyes landing on a bottle of something strong on the counter. If Atsumu can act so freely with alcohol in his system, then why shouldn’t you? Maybe it will numb the ache in your chest, even if just for a little while.

You grab the bottle and pour yourself a generous amount, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat. You don’t care. All you want is to forget, to drown out the thoughts that have been plaguing you since Suna walked out of your life.

With the drink in hand, you head back to the living room. The scene has shifted slightly. Atsumu and Umi are nowhere to be found, and everything seems to be back to normal. You watch Gin and Kosaku play some cards game with a detached interest, but your eyes keep straying to where Suna is sitting. The pain deepens.

Osamu catches your eye from across the room. He must see something in your face because after a moment, he looks away, as if giving up on trying to figure out what you’re feeling. The drink in your hand is half-gone, and the room starts to blur slightly around the edges. You down the rest in one go.

An hour passes, and you’re in a drunken haze. The sounds around you—laughter, music, chatter—melt into an indistinguishable sound. As you stumble towards the bathroom, you nearly collide with the door, your mind spinning. But before you can push it open, you see Suna standing there, his tall frame blocking your path.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and familiar, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hi,” you answer.

He is about to get out of the way to let you through, but a voice urges you to make him stay. You need to say something; anything. And suddenly, the words tumble out before you can stop them, raw and unfiltered. “I still love you.”

His eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, you think you see a flicker of something—regret, maybe—in his gaze. “I’m sorry,” he says after what feels like an eternity, but his voice is distant, like he’s trying to put space between you even if he stands right in front of you.

You take a step closer, “I never stopped thinking about you, you know. I'm so fucking in love with you, Rin...”

He hesitates, his eyes searching your face as if he’s trying to decide whether you’re being serious or if it’s just the alcohol talking. “Are you drunk?” he asks.

Before you can respond, he reaches out and gently takes the drink from your hand. “I’m gonna go find Umi,” he says, as if that will fix everything, as if walking away again is the solution.

But the panic starts to rise in you, sharp and unyielding. You can’t breathe; the walls feel like they’re closing on you. You need to get out—now. Without thinking, you turn and rush out of the apartment.

You’re almost outside when someone catches up to you at the stairs, grabbing your arm firmly to stop you.

Osamu.

“Hey, where're ya goin'?” he asks worried.

“I need to leave,” you choke out, barely able to get the words past the tightness in your throat. “I can’t stay here, Osamu. I just can’t.”

“Okay,” he says softly. “Let’s go to the restaurant.”

The ride is silent. When you arrive at the restaurant, Osamu parks the car and helps you out, guiding you inside. He leads you to a seat and disappears into the back, returning moments later with a glass of water.

“Drink this,” he says gently, pressing the glass into your hands.

You take a sip, the cool water soothing your parched throat. It feels good. But it does nothing to ease the void in your chest. The alcohol is starting to wear off.

Osamu sits down across from you, watching you closely. He doesn’t say anything. For a moment, you almost break down right there in front of him, but you force yourself to keep it together. You’ve already shown too much tonight.

“You’re always so kind to me…” You look down at your drink, fingers grabbing the glass tighter.

“We’re friends.” He simply says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don’t deserve it.” You’re ashamed to look at him.

He says your name firmly, “Don’t say that.”

But you cut him off, “I’m a mess.”

He gets up to get closer to you, you hear the chair squeak against the floor, and he grabs your shoulder to make you look at him. He’s so close, you think he can hear your heartbeats.

“Yer hurt. Ya haven’t seen him in months, it’s normal to feel like that. But yer not a mess,” he hesitates and smiles a little, “and even if ya were, I’ll be there for ya. That’s what friends do.”

You study each feature of his face; his eyebrows; his eyes; his nose and an inch further down…

Your lips end up on his.

You grab the back of his head to tank him down, his hands brush your skin all the way from your shoulder to your free fingertips where he intertwines them with his.

You’re kissing Osamu.

You’re kissing Osamu.

You push him quickly, “Oh my god I’m sorry.” You suddenly get up, panic invading you, “I didn’t mean to - oh my god… I must look so desperate right now.”

“Kissing me makes ya look desperate? Gosh Champion, that hurts.” He lets out a small laugh and his kindness makes you want to cry. You're too drunk to decipher how he really feels.

You finally explode. Tears flow like a waterfall. You friend pulls you against him, you feel the warmth of his shirt against your cheek, and you grab his back with strength, afraid that if he steps away, you’ll crumble.

You don’t remember what happened after that. What you know is that you fell asleep at some point and Osamu stayed by your side.

When you wake up, the sun has barely risen. Your back hurts, your head is pounding, your throat is dry. You take a look at your surroundings; you’re lying down on some bench in Osamu’s workplace. It’s calm, way too calm. You try to remember last night, but your headache makes it hard to think straight.

“Mornin’, should I take ya home?”

Osamu’s voice surprises you, you gulp and nod, unable to come out with a coherent answer. His jacket is covering your body like a blanket, you’re about to give it to him but he interjects quickly, “put it on. It’s cold outside.”

“Thanks,” you answer with a broken voice. You don’t even have the strength to argue with him.

Osamu tells you it’s Sunday and 7am as if he sees how disoriented you are. The neighbourhood is quiet, it reminds you of the day Suna broke up with you. The calm before the storm.

Speaking of storm, Suna is standing in front of your house, hands in his pocket, back lean against the wall.

You get out of the car with Osamu, confused.

Suna clears his throat and when he decides to speak, there’s hesitation in his voice, “Can we talk?”

Osamu is standing between him and you, but somehow, he feels invisible. The way you look at Suna like he is the centre of your solar system is threatening. He will always be your first choice; what did Osamu think? His body moves on instinct, and he takes a step back towards his car.

“I…” he starts, “’Tsumu probably made a mess, I’ll go check on the apartment.”

You agree but avoid his gaze.

A moment passes and you’re alone with Suna. It’s been so long you think you forgot how to be with him. How are you supposed to talk to him? Call him? 

“I was worried yesterday. I went looking for Umi, but you had disappeared.”

“Were you really?” You ask, there’s poison in your voice. You feel the blood in your veins rushing through your whole body.

He takes the time before responding, “Of course.”

“Rin… You're telling me you're worried about me because I disappeared one evening, when you didn’t ask me how I was even once in the past six months? That’s nonsense.”

“I get that you’re angry, but I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

He seems honest and it kills you. You clench your fists. How are you supposed to react to that?

Your mind goes through all sort of emotions, incomprehension, anger, frustration. You finally speak again, “Why?”

“Why?”, he echoes, puzzled.

“Why did you break up with me? And don’t lie to me.”

His lips open and close a few times. His hands come in and out of his pockets awkwardly. “I… I was stupid. I guess I got tired of our relationship. Hiroshima, the club, my friends, everything was new, and it was exciting. And when we were together, it felt like it was holding me back.”

He looks at you and quickly explains more, “But I was wrong and stupid. You’ve been my pillar for all those years, ever since we broke up, I feel lost and I keep doing shitty things.”

“We did not break up Rin, you dumped me, like I was nothing.” You remind him. You can almost feel your nails rip off the skin of your palms from clenching too hard.

“I’m sorry…” He looks down at the floor. He looks so pitiful but even so, he is still beautiful.

You hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you. He is vulnerable right now, almost weak which puts you in a position of power, and yet, deep down, he has you wrapped around his fingers, still he has your heart caged in his hands. How unfair, how unfair.

“What do you want?” You ask him, trying to sound suspicious.

“I was hoping we…we could start over.”

“Loving you ruined my life Rin, how am I supposed to trust you again?”

Of course, you would ask him that. Suna is far from stupid—he knows exactly what he’s done. Until yesterday, he wasn’t even sure if you still loved him. Why would you, after everything? But perhaps, there is a tiny flicker of hope. So, he tries.

“Let me show you that it can be worth it.”

“Where-where does that come from? You barely looked at me once last night, I told you I still loved you and you said nothing back.” Your voice trembles.

“I did look at you, I swear, more than I thought I would. I didn’t expect to feel like that when I saw you, but something was weird in my heart and when you told me you loved me, I panicked. I acted like a jerk, you have all the right in the world to hate me,”

You cut him off, “I could never. You know that.” Your fists relax. 

There’s hope, there’s hope, he hangs on to the thought.

“So… Please let me make it up to you.”

“Did you have sex with her?”

He squints as if the accusation bothers him, but you have to know the truth.

“Rin.”

He doesn’t ask who you are talking and simply answers with a shy “yes.”

You deserve better,

You will find someone else,

Let go of him.

Your heart sings and the words give you the courage to walk past him.

“Wait.”

He says your name and grabs your arm.

One touch. It’s all it takes for you to melt, for your heart to forget all the pain it has been enduring for months.

You hesitate but your hand finds his cheek and you brush a strand of hair. How soft, you think. He closes his eyes, and his forehead leans against yours.

“Please,” the murmur sinks into your body.

“Let’s try.” You give up. You have been waiting for him to come back to you for so long, you have dreamed about those words so many nights. You don't have any other choice but to trust him now.

A comfortable silence settles between you, it almost makes you believe you’re in a dream. You decide to take a step back, but Rin doesn’t let go of your arm.

“I forgot my phone at the boys’ apartment.”

“I’ll come with you.” He hurries to say, afraid you would runaway if he doesn’t follow you.

“‘Tsumu is still sleepin’, Umi left an hour ago.” Osamu explains with a quiet voice once you’re back in the apartment. He hands you your phone.

“O-okay.”

You look around you. The living room is a mess, more than what you remember from last night.

Last night.

Your heart skips a beat.

“Hey, Osamu?” you start carefully, he waits for you to go on, “is everything okay, I mean between us?”

“Sure.”

“Sorry about last night.” You feel extremely guilty. You might have gotten the boy you love back but you can’t bear to lose one of your best friends.

“Last night? What happened last night?” He smiles. You’re relieved; your secret will be safe with him (he is so precious, you tell yourself). You’re about to answer but he lifts his eyes from your face, and you turn to see what has caught his attention.

Suna.

“We should go.” You say.

Osamu thinks you’re talking to him but when he sees you facing your ex-boyfriend he is confused. Suna’s answer confirms his doubts. Something is going on between you two.

“Yeah.” He takes your hand, “thanks for last night Osamu. I have a game in Osaka next month, I'll text you.”

Osamu is unable to answer.

“I'll see you tomorrow at the restaurant," you conclude with a soft smile.

“Hmm, see ya.”

You're afraid to see disappointment on your friend's face so you don't turn back. Everything will be perfect from now on, just like it was before the break up. You are going to be happy and loved and cherished.

The knot in your stomach is normal, you try to convince yourself, there is nothing to worry about.

Absolutely nothing.

author notes: i won't get mad if you want to scream at me :)

Elie

taglist: @wolffmaiden, @obibiwan, @teyvatsunsets, @sugacor3, @hanadulsetaad

[lads-deeply-in-love]

Caleb - Memories of us (2/2)

▸ Synopsis :

Caleb remembers her—before, and after. And he loved every version of her.

▸ Pairing :

Caleb × Reader (written in third person)

▸ Genre :

Angst / Sci-fi / Romance

▸ Warnings :

Angst. Emotional pain. Blood. Death of a major character.

▸ Notes :

English isn’t my first language, and it’s been a while since I wrote—but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.

_________

( Part 1/2 )

Part 2/2

_________

And in the end, did it matter ?

Had they succeeded?

Mh. It seemed they had.

A new smile graced his lips. Swirling his glass slightly, he took another sip of red wine.

Red. More red tainting his dried lips.

"Well done, Pips’. You did it."

One by one.

She had hunted down every actor in his misery. Without mercy. And whenever he was afraid of losing her in that wild, vengeful gaze, she would repeat that she would set him free. No matter the cost.

He laughed, spilling his glass.

He was free. 

______

Her head resting on his knees, under the shade of a cherry tree to escape an overzealous sun, she held between her fingers a poor dandelion that soon met its end in a soft, cruel puff. Each seed drifted away, scattering nearby in a completely useless sacrifice.

"It's too hooot ! she whined.

- Don't exaggerate. We're in the shade.

- It's too hot to live, Caleb. I’m dying.

Caleb lowered his book, raising an accusatory eyebrow.

- It's only spring. You should be studying, he said, pointing at the textbook she'd abandoned on the ground.

- Nope. I’m bored.

He gave her a light tap on the head with his book, ignoring her protests.

- Pips’. You're going to come bother me in bed at 3 a.m. to help you study.

She put on an offended look.

- Would I do that ? Me ?

- Absolutely.

-...Okay, fine. That’s true, she admitted without even trying to deny it.

He laughed.

- You’re impossible.

Sitting up, she left an empty space behind, one he tried not to pay attention to.

- You know, this is your fault.

- Oh, here we go.

- You gave me bad habits. From the start. Now I can't break them.

And really, was she wrong?

- Now you're old enough to know when you're exaggerating.

She didn’t say anything for a moment, then laid her head back down on his knees. Caleb had barely read a few more lines when he heard her mutter :

- You're going to help me anyway."

And there was only one answer that made sense.

Of course.

_____

One by one.

She had hunted them down one by one, like animals. No—worse. Like cattle. None of them stood a chance.

The rumors were spreading. The air was growing heavier each day he walked into work, pretending to know nothing, playing the role of the perfect colonel. And yet, another Ever scientist had been killed. Well. “Disappeared”. But he knew better.

He said nothing. Simply nodded when orders were given.

And then—

He was summoned by one of Professor Lucius’s assistants in one of those secret labs. The poor man was tapping away at his keyboard, visibly concerned.

"I still can’t erase certain memories from your brain. The chip won’t allow access. But I may have found a workaround. Just a few more adjustments and—

At first, Caleb was terrified. Terrified that they might take away the one thing keeping him fighting, keeping him alive. Then, a wave of cold air swept through the room—so icy that even his metal arm grew stiff, harder to move.

Soon, the entire room was encased in thick ice. The assistant’s limbs were frozen, unable to move.

- W-what the—

Caleb knew before hearing it. The footsteps echoed like Death itself had entered the room.

- It means that’s not going to happen.

When he turned to look at her, his posture stiffened further. That girl—her eyes now glowing with a madness that grew stronger every day—was slipping further and further from the one he’d always protected. He didn’t love her less. But even he feared her now.

- What are you doing here ? This is a restricted lab—

- I know, she snapped. But I won’t let you touch him again. Ever.

Okay. Yes, he was scared. But it was also… a little exciting. Just a bit. Seeing her bare her claws for him was oddly exhilarating.

- Is that Zayne’s evol ? he asked.

If his friend from the hospital was involved too, things were about to spiral.

- Actually, I learned something. About myself. And it’s really useful. Wanna see ?

He nodded, intrigued. Neither of them paid any attention to the assistant, who was now desperately trying to break the ice to press the emergency button. But it was hopeless. He let out a scream when flames suddenly scorched his arm.

Caleb was stunned.

- How— ?

- I realized that resonating with others… doesn’t just allow me to boost their powers for a moment.

- You mean—

- Mhm.

And suddenly, the poor scientist had his arm ripped off by a red-and-black surge of energy.

Did that mean— ?

- Wait, mine too ?

She didn’t have to answer. A savage smile was all he needed. Using the gravity evol, she crushed the man beneath its force. His final scream echoed before his body collapsed into a burst of blood.

She walked up to Caleb, wiping the red of his cheek with the sleeve of her jacket.

- I have a secret.

Something told him this wasn’t good news.

In a flash of light, all evidence of the murder vanished.

- What-... Where…? 

- I learned how to use Xavier’s evol, too. Light. And by extension… time.

He had a very bad feeling about what was coming next.

- Pips’—

- Tss. They made you suffer for so long, didn’t they ?

He couldn’t help but close his eyes as her slender fingers brushed his cheek.

-Mh.

-I locked him in a time loop. He’s going to watch himself die—over and over again. Feel his limbs torn and shattered. Helpless. It’s already happened. He can never escape it. He'll suffer forever.

- And the others ?

- I did the same."

He had turned her into a monster.

A terrifying monster without a heart.

Or rather, a monster whose heart beat only for him—unstoppable.

He leaned in to kiss her.

Her lips tasted like blood.

______

He had barely closed the gate behind him when he already heard the hurried steps on the wooden floor inside, rushing down the stairs at a ridiculous speed. Then, as he pushed open the front door, he hadn’t even seen her yet when his little personal tornado threw herself into his arms. He embraced her immediately—muscle memory—his bag dropping to the floor with a dull thud.

"Missed me, huh ?

- Obviously ! Three weeks is forever.

If she noticed that he’d buried his face in her hair to soak in her scent, she said nothing, and he was deeply grateful for that.

- So, still loving planes and all that…?

- Otherwise, I wouldn’t go.

She nodded with the resigned look of someone happy that the person she loved most was following their dreams, but pained by how that path took them further apart.

- You’d better...

He let her go slowly, regret barely hidden.

- And you ? How have you been ?

- Oh, you know, nothing special. Oh wait—Tara met this guy… but he’s kinda weird. Can’t explain why, but I don’t like him. And Ivana went to her cousin’s last week and—"

What followed was a flood of gossip. He was used to it, throwing in a few questions here and there. He never missed a single story, and he appreciated that she made space for him in a daily life he wasn’t part of anymore.

"Ah, you’re home. How are you?"

Gran greeted him a little later, as if she’d knowingly left them time to reconnect first. 

What followed was a fairly normal weekend—the kind he liked best. Pips’ took over his room and his bed like it was the most natural thing in the world. Sat on the kitchen counter while he cooked. Talked to him through the bathroom door while she showered. She was so utterly herself around him, no filters, and he loved her most in those moments.

Then came Sunday evening, way too soon. He zipped up his bag after making his bed, while Pips’ was already sitting cross-legged on it, pouting.

"Don’t make that face. I’ll be back soon.

- Another three weeks, you mean.

Amused, he flicked her forehead.

- That almost sounds like a complaint.

She pretended to be a piranha and tried to bite his fingers. He barely pulled them away in time.

- It just... Sucks.

A little sting in his heart.

- ... I, erm—I'll write to you every day. Like always.

- I know. But it’s kinda like...

Her voice dropped to a murmur.

- "Like" ... ?

- Like we’re not in the same world anymore. You’re becoming unreachable.

She seemed ashamed to admit it. Caleb didn’t hesitate for a second and sat beside her, pulling her close.

- Hey. Any emergency—you call me, I’m there. Call me whenever you want. I’ll never be ‘unreachable’ to you. Never.

She closed her eyes, leaning further into him to soak in the last bit of time they had.

- It scares me—that we’re drifting apart. Taking different paths. But I am happy for you, I swear. You always said flying gave you a sense of freedom…

- Yeah. But if I had to choose between my freedom and you—it’d be you.

She snorted.

- Then why are you leaving?

Good question.

- Because I don’t have to choose. I can have both. I mean, just look at the welcome I get when I come back ! If I stayed, you'd end up throwing chocolate bars at me—

- That was ONE TIME !

She was mortified that he still remembered that.

- It was incredibly dangerous, Pips’ ! You can be a real menace when you want to !

Outraged, she smacked his arm.

- Hey ! Go away already if you’re going to say mean things ! And for your information—I am a-do-rable. 

- I never said otherwise, you’ll notice. Come on, you’re acting like a baby.” 

In a slightly heavier silence, despite his attempts to lighten the mood, he pulled away from her to head downstairs.  

One last hug at the front door.

"Don’t forget me ? she asked timidly as he walked away.

He gave her a wink, tapping his forehead.

- Forget you ? You’re saved right here."

One last smile, and he was gone.

That damned curtain of red and black.  

____

Professor Lucius was the last.

So, he had requested high-level protection and was rarely alone. He’d ensured every camera was operational, the entire secret lab under surveillance.

Of course, if he’d thought that would stop her, then he was a fool.

And after taking shelter behind the plexiglass window, as the last guards vanished in a cloud of blood and smoke, the scientist spun toward Caleb—still unmoving—and shouted his command : 

"Kill her on the spot !

But Caleb didn’t move an inch.

He simply watched the girl he loved more than the world, more than freedom, more than life itself, trample human remains without a second glance.

The professor realized his mistake.

- Oh. It’s her, then."

That made Caleb flinch. Why did Lucius sound… relieved ?

As she stepped into the room, not even raising her weapon, Lucius began frantically typing on his computer—the same setup used by the assistant now trapped in a time loop, right here.

If the program hadn’t stopped him, the colonel would’ve already fired.

"I understand now."

A simple statement. No fear. And yet, she was just a few meters away, and the fate she carried was nothing short of damnation.

Her eyes were locked on Lucius, her rage nearly at peace, ready to meet fulfillment.

"People do all kinds of things for love, he said mockingly.

- And for greed. Yours will drag you to hell, she replied coldly.

- You’re fighting for a robot, girl. It’s pathetic.

That stung her. The heat in the room climbed noticeably, and Caleb saw flames spring up in the footprints she left behind—almost unintentionally.

- He’s human with me.

- That won’t last.

- It will. Because I’ll free him from you. No more control. No more tampering.

- And no more hurting him ? Lucius sneered.

- I’ll—"

But Lucius struck one last key and let out a victorious cry.

Neither Caleb nor she understood what had just happened. But whatever it was, it couldn’t be good.

The professor looked pleased. Caleb waited—for any sound, any movement that would offer an explanation. But none came.

He simply stood there, stiff as a statue, staring at something that never arrived. And when he finally turned away from Lucius, his eyes narrowed.

Since when was there someone else in the room ?

"Kill her," Lucius commanded again.

And this time, like a well-oiled machine, Caleb raised his weapon.

No.

His lip was trembling. Why ? His grip on the gun was weaker than usual.

No, no, no ! something in him was screaming.

And then the horror dawned across her face.

Did he know her ?

"Caleb!" she shouted, and her voice seemed to color every echo in his memory—a voice he’d heard a thousand times before. And yet…

What was her name already ?

He fired. Twice. Tears running down his face. 

She stood there, speechless. A curtain of red and black spilled from her chest. She stumbled but didn’t fall.

In one last surge, she clenched her fist, eyes blazing with hatred as she looked at Lucius.

He burned on the spot in the most wild flames Caleb had ever seen, leaving behind nothing but ashes.

Then Caleb felt his evol struggle one last time, pulling into a black hole the final modifications made to his brain.

He blinked. Looked around quickly. And when he realized what had just happened—what he had just done—he dropped to his knees beside her, one hand pressed to her bleeding chest.

It took several seconds before he could speak, too stunned, too broken.

"Fuck, Pips’, I—I’m so sorry, I’ll... I’ll fix this—

- Caleb.

- Just give me... time. I’ll fix it, okay ?

- Caleb, she repeated, more firmly.

He was sobbing so hard it was difficult to hear her, but her tone made it clear : he had to listen.

She lifted her hand with effort, pointing to the pile of ashes.

- He was the last one.

- But I—

- You’re free.

The weight of the world collapsed onto his shoulders.

- No, no, no. Pips’, baby, I don’t want freedom without you, I—

- That's funny. You're the one acting like a baby this time. 

And really, he didn't find it funny at all.

- Please... Please...

He brought her fingers to his lips, kissing them without caring about the blood.

- You’re free, she said again, like an infinite sentence.

- I love you. I love you so much, he whispered, a last plea to the entire universe.

- You're free of that too, now."

It felt like drowning.

_____

It may have been hours since she had spoken those words. Or days. He had held her against him as tightly as he could—like he wanted to become one with her again—as her body grew cold. He breathed in her scent until even that faded. And then, he wandered through the lab. Aimless.

What good was freedom if he couldn’t share it with the love of his life ? If there wasn’t a house, children—maybe two dogs—and her ?

He drifted. For a long time.

Pacing like a lion in a cage.

The idea of a world without her was unbearable. Unlivable. That’s when the idea came.

With his foot, he scattered the professor’s ashes and positioned himself behind the computer. They had never been able to erase his memory—but he could.

Just once. Just once, to live again in a world where she existed. Where she was still her—or even the other version of her. Whether he held her in arms of flesh and blood, or she traced the edges of his mechanical one. Whether she was gentle or monstrous. As long as she was there.

He tapped a few keys, having watched the scientists do it often enough, and then his recent memories began to slip away. Space was being cleared. He felt lighter and lighter. He knew he was going mad.

But he didn’t notice that her body had long been a corpse, or that the letters on the keyboard had worn off with time.

Just once. J-j-jus-t-t?!?!o-onn-ce!?#

He laughed. And then, suddenly, he wasn’t laughing anymore. In fact, he didn’t even know why. His own voice felt foreign to him, so he closed himself off into a somewhat frightening silence. A void. The chip in his brain was still there, but he no longer paid it much attention. Well, he did, but not in the same way. It had become a precious ally. Slowly, a warm feeling invaded his thoughts. Walking on the shattering glass, he ignored the crispy sound under his boots, serving himself a glass of wine. 

He settled into the chair by the window, his soul emptied of all negativity. He took a sip of the red liquid, letting it burn his dried throat. He felt free. For a moment. And then, he remembered. And his lips stretched into a somewhat dazed smile. 

Pips’…

[peekawoocc]

Law × Reader

Hospital beds

WARNINGS - none, fluff

Law walked out of his room late that night, the thought that y/n might need to be checked on kept looming over his thoughts. Allowing him to think of little else.

He was in a rush so all he was wearing was an open coat, no shirt, with his gray, black-spotted jeans. It was late, around 1 a.m., to be exact.

Y/n had been sleeping for almost 2 whole days, surely they were about to wake up soon.

Law walked into the recovery room, and looked over to the bed where y/n was laying. He looked down at them for a moment before deciding to try and wake them up.

"Y/n?"

"You feel like waking up yet?"

Y/n shifted a little. Good, at least there's some indication that they're coming out of their sleeping beauty fairytale.

"Y/n?", he said, shaking them a little more sternly this time.

"Hmm..? Yeah?", y/n said, still sleepily.

"Good, you're finally awake,"

"What happened?" Y/n said, a little surprised by the amount of relief Laws words seemed to carry.

"You don't remember?"

"No, not really... I remember I was still fighting one of the enemies...I was in the middle of trying to deliver the final blow and then everything's blank after that,"

"Bepo told me you got ambushed from behind from another enemy. He tried to get to you, but unfortunately all he could do at first was watch. He said when he finally got free he made his way to you as soon as he could. By then you were knocked out cold,".

Y/n slowly started to sit up, Law then reached out his hands to help steady y/n by the shoulders.

"Easy does it, you've been out for quite a bit, don't try to use up too much energy,"

Y/n felt the warmth of his hands on their shoulders. It's been a long time since they felt the careful touch of such a kind gesture. Y/n had always longed to recieve any kind of good attention from Law. They felt the warmth of his touch spread throughout their body and mind, just as they were starting to let their thoughts drift to lovely, lustful fantasies, they suddenly remembered they were staring at their captain, who seemed a bit confused by y/n's long stare.

"Sorry, did you say something?"

"Don't worry about it, I'm sure you were still trying to remember what happened before you got knocked out right?". He removed his hands from y/n's shoulders.

"Y-yeah," they lied, too embarrassed to admit what they were really thinking about, they decided to change the subject.

"Sorry for making you worry about me,"

"I always worry about you, there's no reason to apologize for it. I just want to do what I can to look out for you. You're important to me,"

"Yeah, because I'm apart of the crew now,"

"Not just that, but that is part of it,"

"What's the other part of it?"

"How's your leg feeling? I had to put a few stitches in, you had some really deep cuts in you,"

"Yeah, I suppose I have the enemies swords to thank for that, but...hey! Wait a minute...why did you ignore my question?"

"We can discuss that later once you've healed, I don't wanna put anymore stress on you. We need to make sure you get as much rest as possible,"

He put his hand back on their shoulder and smirked, he knew exactly what he was doing. Oh well, at least it would get them thinking about him after he retires back to his room for the night. He pulled his hand away and started to get up.

"W-wait, where are you going?" Y/n said, shocked by Laws sudden action.

"Back to my room, I really need to try and get some sleep, not that it'll be easy. Never is. You should do the same,"

"But i just woke up! Well, if it wasn't so cold in here maybe i could! Seriously, are we docked near a winter island or something?"

"Yes, actually. Being submerged doesn't really help either I'd suppose. It is really cold, I should've put a thicker blanket on you," Law suddenly paused, and then his gray eyes gently lit up as a thought played across his mind.

"I think I know a way to make it up to you. It'd probably be beneficial to both of us, actually,"

"What is it?"

"We could sleep together,"

Y/n suddenly became flushed at Laws very forward suggestion. Realizing that what he had said didn't come out right, he began to feel the blood rush to his cheeks as he put his palm on his face. Trying to cover up some of his embarrassment.

"I-....uh....I meant that we could sleep in the same bed. I didn't mean to imply...that...".

Glad that he gave a bit more detail to what he originally meant, y/n started to calm down a little, and with a flustered sigh said, "Um....well...alright. I suppose it wouldn't hurt. It is really cold, and if it'll help my captain get some rest then I suppose..."

"Ok...um...could you turn around please?" He said, removing his palm from his face.

"Turn around? Why?" Y/n asked, wondering just what exactly he was planning to do.

Law let out an annoyed sigh and said, "Well, unless you want to see me strip,"

"Huh!?!"

"Sleeping in jeans doesn't exactly sound too comfortable,"

"I guess thats true,".

Y/n suddenly turned on their side, still a bit flustered. As they laid there, anxiously waiting for Law to get into the small bed with them, they began to notice the sound of Law stripping. First, the sound of his coat dropping to the floor. Then, the sound of him unbuckeling his belt and letting his jeans hit the floor. Finally, y/n fully realized the meaning of what was about to transpire. He's about to get into bed with me. Wearing nothing but his underwear. In this small bed. There's no way we won't be touching in this small space. HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO FALL ASLEEP LIKE THIS!?!

Y/n suddenly came back to reality as they heard Law crawl into the small bed as a slight cold breeze grazed their leg from him lifting the blanket. The tension in the air was thick, y/n tried so hard to not think about what was happening, but due to the closeness between the two, all of that came to a crash as they felt Laws breath on the back of their neck. Law spoke up.

"I didn't realize how small this bed would be...if you're uncomfortable like this, I understand,"

"N-no, no....it's ok...I didn't really think we'd be this close either, but...uh...,"

Y/n was completely flustered, and didn't completely fathom the fact that they were saying the thoughts coming to mind, "It is a lot warmer now. I can't say that being this close displeases me, or anything. I never thought something like this would ever happen,". Y/n always had fantasies that something like this could happen, but only in their dreams. Had all those times that he glanced their way have been real, and they weren't just hopefully imagining it. Did he really think of them in the same way. Did he feel the same way?

So many questions had flooded their mind until they felt a sudden urge to have that very question answered.

"Hey, Law?" Y/n said, turning over to face the handsome man.

*Snore*

Y/n stared, completely dumbfounded. Here they were. Finally gaining the confidence to ask Law such an important question, and there he is. Out like a light. Y/n couldn't stay annoyed for long though, as they stared at the lightly candlelit face of their captain. He rarely ever showed such a peaceful expression. Y/n stared at his face, admiring every detail. Slowly looking down his face, to his neck, to his tattooed chest. Watching as it rhythmically rose and fell. He always works really hard and doesn't get much sleep. So y/n continued tracing all of his features with their eyes until they felt their mind fade to ease.

Bepo had been looking everywhere. Where could his captain be? When he last saw Law he was making an inventory list of supplies they would need to restock on after their last battle. As he stood for a moment trying to think of anywhere he hadn't checked, he had a sudden realization. The recovery room! Bepo quickly ran their as soon as possible. He must've went to check on y/n after waking up.

As he opened the door, he was met with a closed curtain, he knew Y/n was behind it, but were they awake? Was the captain behind it with them? "Um...y/n? Captain? Captain are you there?"

"H-huh....*yawn*...yeah?" Law growled annoyingly in a mixture of not wanting to wake up and also not wanting to leave y/n's side.

"Um, captain, what're you doing here?"

"I came to check on y/n, I'll be out in a little bit,"

"Oh, ok...".

Once Law heard the door close he sighed in relief at finally being alone with y/n again. He knew Bepo was just doing his job, he just wasn't a morning person.

Y/n slowly coming to their senses, started to open their eyes. There he was, in all his smirking glory.

"Morning sleeping beauty,"

That was it. That was all it took for y/n to be all flustered again. They covered their face in embarrassment.

"You're already awake?"

"Yeah, thanks to Bepo,"

"Oh, I should've said 'good morning' to him. Wait...did he see us...like this!?!"

"Calm down. No, he didnt,"

"Ah, ok...".

They laid there in silence for a moment, enjoying eachothers warmth. Y/n started to wonder, "So, does this mean something to him, like it does to me? Was he really that cold or was there more to it than that?". As they sat there in thought, Law began to speak.

"How did you sleep? And how's your leg feeling? Any soreness?"

"It feels a little sore, it's bearable. I slept ok, but it does feel a bit cramped in this bed,"

"Yeah, next time we should use my bed,"

"Huh...n-next t-time?"

Law blushed, not aware of what he had said until it was too late. He sat up so y/n couldn't see is face.

"Uh, well, if we ever get this close to a winter island again, I wouldn't be against it..."

"U-um, ok. That doesnt s-sound like a b-bad idea,".

They went back to silence yet again, this time it felt more tense than peaceful. Y/n finally sat up. Now shoulder to shoulder with Law. They glanced up at him, trying to find an icebreaker, but then he spoke.

"Well, I guess I should go find Bepo now. We might need to do this again on a night when I can't sleep. It was actually really nice despite the tight space,"

"Yeah, I guess I should probably go get some food,"

"You think you'll be able to walk on that leg?"

"Won't know til I try,".

Y/n went to get up, confident they'd be able to stand. It was a natural motion, why wouldn't they be able to get out of bed? All that confidence went to pieces when y/n started to stumble and lose their balance. Luckily, they fell back to land on the bed before going down. Falling slightly on Law, y/n was met with an annoyed look from the grumpy cat.

"You really need to be more careful! I'll have Ikkaku come bring you breakfast. Stay in bed til you can actually put weight on that leg,".

Y/n nodded, smiling while being a little embarrassed. Law got up and went to his discarded clothes he had left on the ground. Y/n quickly looked away out of a mix of respect and embarrassment. After getting dressed, Law headed towards the curtain, opened it, then headed for the door. All the while y/n was getting readjusted to the newfound space that they had before last night. Even though now y/n could spread their arms and legs out more freely now, they couldn't deny that they had missed the previously taken up space. Y/n laid there, awaiting food, consumed by the thoughts of the slender, dark-eyed captain.

[tea-stained-notes]

Colin x Penelope - What If You Fly? | Chapter 1

Penelope has got used to loving Colin in secret. To yearn for him when his work takes him around the globe and to hide her heart away when he is near. But a weekend together at a writing conference brings to the surface what has been buried for far too long. Will Penelope finally dare to embrace her ambitions as a writer and confess her feelings to her best friend?

Warnings: angst

Chapter word count: ~1850

MASTERLIST

I was in such a Polin rush after my last story that I immediately dove into the next one 🙈 This one has much less heavy themes though and will be a lot shorter as well. Hope you enjoy! 😊

Day 1

“This is going to be such fun, don’t you think?” Colin flashes her a smile as he drops his bag in front of the reception desk. Penelope returns it with a little less brightness, nervousness gnawing at her stomach. He rings the silver bell, then quickly pulls out his phone to check the messages he’s received during their drive here. She uses the time to study him carefully. His dark hair has grown out a little over his two-month trip to India and curls beautifully around his face. A five o’clock shadow accentuates the sharp line of his jaw. His tanned skin is contrasted against the crisp white t-shirt collar peaking out of his navy jumper. She could swear he looks more stunning with every passing year. But underneath he is still that charming, carefree boy she once fell for, still brimming with curiosity and a zest for life. “Hi, we have a reservation under Colin Bridgerton.” Penelope curses her heart for fluttering whenever she hears these words. Whether it’s a restaurant, a car rental or — in this case — a hotel room, she can’t help but swoon at the sound of them. Like she and Colin belong together. “Yes, I’ve got you right here, Mister Bridgerton. A double room with two beds, is that correct?” And the illusion shatters. She turns away from the desk to take in the foyer while he handles the formalities. It’s spacious but cosy, the wooden features and plush sofas bathed in the glow of the setting September sun filtering through lattice windows. The last hints of summer hang in the air that’s streaming in through the open French doors. A beautiful historic hotel in the Cotswolds — quite perfect for a romantic getaway. “Are you here for the writing conference, Mister Bridgerton?” “We are. I’m a freelance travel writer.” “Lovely and may I get your name, Miss?” Penelope turns back to the receptionist. “Penelope Featherington. I’m with Green Lit Agency.” The elderly woman checks off both their names on a list, then hands them their badges and itineraries. “You’ll find all the panels and workshops for the next couple of days on here. Wear your badges at all times, please, to be granted access to the events and catering. The opening event will take place at nine a.m. in the room at the end of that hall. Breakfast is available from seven to ten, just through there.” “Perfect, thank you,” Colin smiles. “Enjoy your stay.” “We will.” Penelope wishes she could believe her own words.

The room is just as lovely as the foyer promised. Inviting armchairs by the small fireplace, beautifully carved wooden furniture, ancient beams adorning the slanted ceiling. The prospect of spending three nights here with the love of her life should be bliss. Instead, she feels suffocated by his presence beside her and strides over to the window to rip it open. The fist around her throat loosens a little as she inhales the balmy evening air. Ever since Penelope found out that the oxygen we need to breathe is the very thing killing us by deteriorating our cells over the years, she cannot help but compare it to loving Colin Bridgerton. Inevitable, instinctual, sometimes painful, sometimes grounding. And slowly killing her. He appears behind her, sliding his arms around her shoulders and pulling her back against his chest. “Hey.” His incredible smell of cologne, fresh soap and something intrinsically Colin engulfs her, along with the warmth radiating through their layers of clothing, and she wonders for the millionth time whether he enjoys torturing her like this. He doesn’t, he would never do anything to hurt her on purpose, but in moments like these it feels like he’s revelling in slicing her heart open. He is so close and yet so utterly out of reach. She stiffens in his arms, painfully aware that if she allowed herself to melt into him, she might give away what she’s been hiding so desperately for as long as she can remember. It’s only every now and then that she indulges in the physical affection he’s always heaped on her in abundance. So much so, that people constantly assume they’re a couple. But Colin is simply the softest person, even among the sensitive bunch of Bridgertons. So no matter how much she wants to feel special, she knows better. And protecting her heart at least a little means fighting the urge to fall into him completely whenever he offers her the slightest touch. Colin notices her discomfort and releases her, then busies himself with unpacking. “You want to order up some food and watch a film?” he asks without looking at her. “Sounds perfect.” Penelope finds the menu and scans through it. “Truffle Mac’n’Cheese and a garden salad?” “Great.”

She calls the reception to place the order, then wanders into the bathroom for a quick shower and her skincare routine. Colin has already placed his toiletries neatly on the shelf above the sink. Her stomach clenches with both joy and pain as she arranges her own things next to his. It was sweet once. The infatuation of a ten-year-old girl with the slightly older neighbour boy. Harmless and almost fun with its dramatic journal entries in glitter pen and the wistful staring across the street to never miss the moment he left or entered Bridgerton House. Almost twenty years later it is far from fun and certainly not harmless. The yearning has carved itself into her bones, never stilled by romantic endeavours or resolute vows to embrace life as a single, independent woman. Not as long as he remains available, no matter how absurd the notion of him suddenly falling head over heels for her. And possibly the worst thing about all this is that she can’t really share this burden with anyone else. Not when one of her best friends is the very man she is so miserably bound to and the other his sister, who would rather shoot herself in the foot than discuss how devastatingly attractive her brother is. Penelope once poured her heart out to a lovely woman in a club bathroom after way too many tequilas, who promptly tried to scam her with some sketchy astrology session to open Colin’s eyes to her through the power of the stars or whatever. She has been suffering in silence ever since. At least the yearning has become familiar over the years. A constant ache she can mostly tune out, sometimes forget entirely. Missing him has become part of her DNA, whether he is halfway across the world or right next to her. But having him close always hurt more. So it is almost lucky that his job takes him around the globe for most of every year. That’s when they text and talk on the phone for hours, when she can savour every word of his latest article about the most wondrous things he has encountered. He weaves his stories together so effortlessly. Detailing the horrific destruction of the rain forest, then fondly recalling children playing with homemade dolls in the ashes. She adores his writing. His family had thought it a frivolous hobby at first but ever since Colin first entrusted her with his travel journals she knew they could change minds and hearts. They’ve allowed her to see the world through his eyes, to lead a life of adventure, of a constantly broadening horizon. With a sigh she steps out of her clothes and into the shower to wash off the London grime. She’s going to try to focus on the good this weekend will bring. New insights and connections, a change of pace from her hectic city life. Time with her very favourite person. Time to soak in everything sweet without letting it get coated in bitterness.

When she emerges from the bathroom in her flannel pyjamas half an hour later, Colin has piled all the cushions and blankets onto one of the beds and is just arranging their plates and some wine glasses on two trays. He glances up at her, his features melting into a radiant smile. “Perfect timing.” She can’t help but smile back. He looks so cosy in his soft jumper and joggers, bathed in the warm light from their bedside lamps. All she wants in the world is to dive into him and never come up for air. “I was thinking Midnight in Paris?” she says instead, nodding towards his laptop. “You know, for the writerly vibes.” “Love it,” he grins, then makes himself comfortable up against the headboard and pats the space beside him. The bed is definitely too narrow to fit two people at any kind of respectable distance. Penelope gulps, then swiftly straightens her spine in defiance. Sweet, not bitter. She climbs in next to Colin and leans back into the pillows, the sides of her arm and leg unavoidably fused to his. He seems entirely unfazed, just hands her a tray and pulls up the film on his notebook. Once the first images of Paris flicker across the screen he balances the laptop precariously on both their thighs. “No more moving now,” he chuckles. They do move, but only closer. When their food is finished, they set the trays on the floor and before Penelope can catch a thought Colin has slid an arm around her, pulling her into his chest with a sigh. She is completely still for a moment, her mind whirring at breakneck speed. And then… she gives in. Just for tonight she’ll pretend, even if the crash down to earth will bruise. Just for tonight she can make believe that this is real. Her hand curls against his rib cage, breath in tune with his. For once there is a strange serenity in surrender. When the credits roll Colin doesn’t stir. His fingers continue drawing circles on her arm, his other hand warm and steady on hers. She yearns to breathe a kiss into his neck, to inhale him deep into her lungs. But it’s time to break the spell. Her heart is rubbed raw enough for one evening. “We should get some sleep.” She disentangles herself with an enormous amount of willpower. “Long day tomorrow.” “Y-yes. Sure.” Colin seems befuddled, clearly he had already drifted halfway off to dreamland. She can’t help but laugh a little at his expression. His hand shoots to his head. “What? Do I have bed hair?” “No,” she grins. “You’re perfect.” His gaze softens. It does strange things to her pulse, so she quickly gets up, ignoring the dizzy spell as she once more goes to open a window. A gentle wisp of night air cools her heated cheeks. She stands there for a moment, letting her eyes wander over the dark woods and fields while her heartbeat slows. Then the sound of Colin rising to his feet snaps her out of her reverie and she hurries off to brush her teeth. When she settles under her blanket in the dark, her pillow still smells faintly of him. She conjures up the feeling of his body wrapped around hers. A familiar torture. And even though she can hear his steady breathing merely two yards from her, he seems a million miles away.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

CHAPTER 2

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[hyperfixiation-station]

Forever And Always

TW: Death, injuries, angst

Pairing: Ghost x Reader

Note: Listen to this song either before or after you read. Makes the viewing experience 100x better.

Ghost should have been back by now. You had wanted to pick him up from the airport, but he had told you he didn’t know when he was getting in, and that he would just meet you at home. He had texted you 2 hours ago that he had landed, but since then it had been radio silence.

You sit at the kitchen table, worriedly watching the phone, waiting for him to text you. You’d been waiting for hours, the time far later than when he said he’d be home. You knew Simon, knew that something deeper was going on then him just forgetting to text you. Your eyes fall to your phone, the screen lighting up with yet another unread message. After hearing no one had seen him, you’d stopped responding, too tired and worried to think. 

You: Is Simon with you? 

Bubbles: no

Bubbles: he said he wanted to see u rather than go drink with us first day of leave 

Bubbles: why

You:  Is Simon with you? 

Oh Captain My Captain: No

Oh Captain My Captain: Haven’t seen him since he said he was heading towards you

Oh Captain My Captain: Has he not made it back yet? 

Oh Captain My Captain: I’ll see if I can find him. 

Bubbles: Y/n????

Bubbles: where is he??? 

Bubbles: is something wrong?

Bubbles: Y/n???

It’s Raining Men: Captain is having me look for Ghost. 

It’s Raining Men: I’ll find him for ya, don’t worry. 

Bubbles: i’m coming to find u

Your phone rings and you startle, almost falling out of your seat. You snap out of your daze, almost dropping the phone in your haste to answer. 

“Are you y/n, l/n?” The voice on the other end asks.

“Yes.” You whisper, heart sinking.

“This is Bakersfield Memorial. Something happened to Simon Riley. You need to co-” You don’t hear anything else they say, a rushing sound in your ears drowning out all other noise. 

You hurry to your car, not bothering to change out of your pajamas. You peel out of the driveway and speed down the road, ignoring road safety laws. Your eyes fall on your left hand, the engagement ring sitting on your finger glinting in the moonlight. Your mind flickers back to 7 months ago, when Ghost had gotten down on one knee and asked you to be his. 

It was the night before Ghost left for deployment, and you were out on the town, enjoying the last night you’d spend together for over 6 months. Soap, Price, and Gaz were there as well, and while you weren’t 100% sure why, you didn’t mind. 

It hit 1 A.M. and you were about ready to go home. You were getting ready to leave when Ghost called your name. You spun around, mouth to tell him…something. You can’t remember what. Any thoughts vanish at the sight of Ghost on his knee, holding a small box out to you. 

He said a lot of things, told you he meant to ask you after he got back but he just couldn’t wait. Told you how much he loved you, that he wanted to spend his life with you, wanted you to be his forever and always. You remember launching yourself at him, knocking him backwards, the bar cheering around you as you cried.

And you remember telling him that he better stay alive long enough to marry you.

You pull up to the entrance of the hospital, not entirely sure how you got there in the first place. You hurry  inside, car still on, and a nurse leads you up stairs, through doors, down a million halls, twisting and turning in a path you’ll never remember. She talks to you, updating you on what happened, but you can’t hear a word she says. 

You enter his room, biting your lip to keep from crying when you see him in the bed. What you can see of his body is bruised and bloodied, an oxygen mask over his face, wires and tubes crisscrossing every which way. You sit down next to him and interlace your fingers, mindful of the I.V. sticking out the back of his hand.

“Hey luv.” His voice is low and strained, “fancy meeting…you here.”

“Oh Simon, what have you done to yourself.” Your vision blurs with unshed tears as you take in your fiancé's labored breathing, the pain etched into his face, the bloodstained bandages that cover his torso. 

“I’ll be…alright, luv. Be…just fine…in time…for…the wedding.” He squeezes your hand weakly, “That is…if you…can ever pick…a color…scheme.” 

“I was thinking blue. And orange.” 

“Like the…fruit?” 

“I was thinking more rustic.” 

“Hmm.” You pretend not to notice his grimace of pain.

 

“You know,” You say to distract him from the inevitable, “I was looking at houses on zillow the other day.” 

“...Oh? Find one…you…liked?” 

“Yeah, found this real cute farm house, has a wrap-around porch and plenty of land. Plus a couple extra rooms if we ever decide to have kids.”

“I’d love to…have a…couple more…Y/n’s…runnin…around.” He smiles softly at you, and for one moment he looks peaceful. But then the moment passes and the pain returns. 

“That’d be a bit confusing.” You tease softly, trying to act normal, “I’d think you’d want to give them their own names.” 

“Mhm.” He doesn’t respond, but his pained smile tells you he’s grateful you’re trying. 

“I was thinking Rosalie for a girl.” You say quickly, “And…and Thomas for a boy. We’d call him Tommy for short.” 

“You’ve…got…good taste.” He squeezes your hand, voice thick with emotion. 

“Course I do.” You grin weakly, “I’m marrying you, aren’t I?” He laughs weakly, smiling up at you for a moment. And then his breath hitches and your heart drops. 

The nurse bends over him, messing with his oxygen. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room, leaving both you and him unable to breathe. It’s an eternity before the nurse hits his chest and he gasps softly, his breathing returning to the labored and raspy rhythm it held before.

“Si?” You cry, leaning over him. 

“ ‘m…okay…luv.” His eyes are closed, his face pale, sweaty, and lined with pain. The nurse gives you a look that you know means there is not a lot of time left. 

“Can you do something for me?” You ask her quietly. She nods, and you tell her what you want to do.

“I’ll be back soon.” She says, smiling sadly at you. As soon as she leaves there’s a knock on the door, a familiar Scottish brogue fills the room. You whip around to find Soap in the doorway, panting and sweaty. He looks at you for a moment before his gaze falls to Simon. 

“Ye scared me little bird. Yer door wis unlocked ‘n yer phone wis on th’ ground ‘n Ah guessed th’ wirst. I’ wis pure happenstance that Ah saw…that Ah saw Ghost’s bike on th’…on th’ ground ’n surroondit by cop cars on mah way back tae base.” His gaze never leaves Ghost, even as he circles the bed to sit at his other side, “Ah’ve git Price ‘n Gaz on their way.”

“We’re just…invit…ing…everyone…then?” Ghost rasps out, “Good…ta…see ya…again..Johnny.” 

“We wur th'gither no’ even 6 hours ago, Ghost.” Ghost laughs softly and you grin weakly at their light-hearted banter, gently squeezing his hand. He slumps back against the bed, eyes fluttering as even that small interaction drains him.

“Soap, can I ask you to do something for me real quick?” You ask him quietly. 

“O’ course.” You lean over, whispering quietly in his ear. He gives you the same look the nurse did as he stands and leaves the room. 

“Wh’t ‘re…you doin?” Ghost slurs. 

“I’m marrying you. Now.” You say softly, eyes blurring with tears again, “I always did like white and silver as a backup option.” 

“Do-” You cut him off

“I want you, Simon Riley. I will always want you. There is no one else on this planet that could take your place, regardless of the time we get to spend together. Even if-” Your voice breaks, “-even if that time ends today. There will never be anyone else for me.” 

“Y/n…” He gets cut off again, this time by a train of people filing into the room. The nurse comes in first, towing the Chaplin you’d asked her to get behind her. Soap is next, followed along by an elderly woman pushing her wife in a wheelchair, holding a pair of wedding rings, with Price and Gaz bringing up the rear. 

The room is crowded and hot, but you could care less. The next few minutes are filled with tearful laughter, condolences and congratulations exchanged in the same breath. Price, Soap, and Gaz sit with Ghost as the Chaplain gets his things ready. 

You step back, giving them one final moment alone with their brother. You go thank the couple for letting you borrow their rings, and you can see the pity in their eyes as they take in the room. 

You learn that the one in the wheelchair is named Margaret and the other’s named Pamela, that they met when they were 12 and 14 respectively, and got married as soon as they were both legal. 

“We’re lucky,” Margaret says softly, “Not a lot of people get to be with each other as long as we do.” The words cut deep, though you know she means well, and you turn away so she can't see your tears.

“Are ya ready, little bird?” Soap gently guides you to the vacated chair by Ghosts bedside, and the chaplain begins the ceremony.  Soap hands you the rings, then retreats to the side of the room, where Gaz, Price, Margaret, and Pamela watch the both of you. 

“Guess I….held to…my…promise.” He chuckles weakly. You shush him, but can’t help but smile. The chaplain stands in front of you and begins to speak, the room silent save for the steady beeps of the machinery and his voice. He finishes his part and steps back, allowing you to exchange vows. 

“I want you forever, Simon Riley.” You say as you slide the ring on his finger, “forever and always. Through the good, the bad, the ugly, for better or for worse, happy, sad, angry. I want you through all of it. We’ll gr…we….I will always love you, no matter the time that passes.” You are crying now, so hard you can barely see him through your tears, “I will love you, forever and always.” 

He squeezes your hand weakly, his breaths coming faster and faster even as his heart rate begins to slow. His voice is low and shaky, but you can hear him all the same.

“I love you forever,” His voice breaks, “forever and always. Even if…when…I’m not…there…I’ll always…love you….forever…and al...ways.” You press a kiss to cold lips, your tears falling on his face. His hand tangles in your hair before shakily coming up to wipe your tears away.

“Watch…them…for me…Soap.” He slurs, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Always.” Soap says solemnly, but you can barely hear him.  You sob raggedly, digging your fingers so hard into Ghost’s hand it hurts. 

“Don’t leave me Si.” You beg as his heart monitor begins to slow, “Please Si, I’m begging you, stay with me. I can’t do this without you.” 

But your pleas fall on deaf ears, his hand going limp in yours. The steady beep of the machinery is replaced by a shrill scream as he flatlines. Then the nurse unplugs it, and your sobs fill the air. 

You lean over him, face resting on his stomach as you sob, the gurney shaking from the force of it. 

“Wake up.” You beg, “Please Simon, this isn’t funny. Please wake up.” But he doesn’t. A hand falls on your shoulder, turning you away from the body. He sinks down to be on your level, drawing you into a hug. You bury your face in the man’s neck, both of you clinging together as you mourn. 

“I should have driven him home from the airport.” You sob raggedly, “I should have waited for him, I should have…should have….sh-sh-sh…”

“Breathe little bird.” 

“I can-I can-I ca-an’t.” 

“Yes, ye can. Breathe wit me. In, 2, 3, 4, out, 2, 3, 4.” He caresses your hair as he talks, a soothing gesture that Simon does. 

Did.

“I’s no’ yer fault, little bird, ya hear me?” He makes you look him in the eyes, but the pain you see in them sets you off again. 

“I’m s-so…so sorry.” you cry, “I am so sorry.” 

“I’s no’ yer fault.” Sopa says, harsher this time, “He shoudnae been drivin’ th’ bike anyway. Ah know ye tol’ him tae stop.” 

“He’s dead Soap, you can’t speak ill of the dead.” Your breath hitches, “He’s dead. Soap, he’s dead. He’sdeadhe’sdead’he’sdead. He’s dead and he’s not coming back. He left me.” You are sobbing almost incoherently now, “He left me, he promised he’d stay with me, he said we’d grow old together, that we’d be together, forever and always, but he left me. Heleftmeheleftmeheleftme!”

“Ah know, little bird.” He holds you to his chest as you shatter, “I know.”  

[byeuijoo]

brave enough 𐀔 k

genre : fluff ⋆ warnings : alcohol consumption ⋆ wc : 1018

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« hello? » you say as you pick up the phone, squinting at the time on your alarm clock. 1:35 a.m. who dared to call you at such a late hour?

« y/n? i'm sorry, did i wake you up? » on the other side of the phone, you could recognize euijoo's soft voice, one of your best friend's friends. a sigh left your lips as you sat up in bed, rubbing your eyes, « yea, but it's okay. what's happening? »

a loud crash in the background of the call made you open your eyes wide, until you heard someone swear, followed by a long sigh of exasperation from the boy on the phone. « uhh.. well, the 4 of us went out to have a drink, and it was planned that we would all sleep at nico's, but yudai categorically refuses to sleep if he's not at your place so.. »

pinching the bridge of your nose, a long, long sigh left your lips. sometimes you really hated that your best friend loved you that much. « alright.. give me 20 minutes and i'll be there. » — after a short chat, you dropped your phone and hurried to put on a sweatshirt and sneakers, grabbing your car keys before you hit the road.

after a quarter of an hour's driving, you finally arrive at the door of nicholas' apartment, behind which you could clearly hear someone singing — or rather screaming in agony. knocking a few times against the door, you wait no more than 2 seconds before coming face to face with nico's panicked gaze. « i can't tell you how happy i am to see you. » a scoff left your lips as you entered the room, waiting patiently for yudai to come. and in less time than it takes to say it, he appears right in front of you, literally falling into your arms with a silly smile on his lips.

« oh my lovely y/n, you're here ! » you could tell by the tone of his voice that he was completely drunk, which made you sigh even more, euijoo's desolate eyes finding yours across the room. « how many bottles did he drink to end up in this state? » you asked, hooking your arm around his waist to hold him close. fuma slid in beside you to support your best friend's nearly asleep body, guiding him with you to your car, before seating him on the passenger side.

« we lost him at some point, he got mixed up with other people... i think he must have consumed more than he should have during that time. » he explained as he closed the door. you nodded at fuma's words as you walked around the car to get behind the wheel, waving to the three boys who waved back at you.

resting your forehead against the top of your steering wheel with a sigh, you looked up at yudai's face, who seemed to be dozing. leaning over him, you grabbed the belt and hung it up, « what am i going to do with you? » you said in a whisper that you were sure he hadn't heard. after making sure he was safe, you started the car and drove back home.

once parked, you unbuckled your seatbelt before turning towards yudai. in a fit of annoyance, you punched him in the shoulder, waking him up slightly, his eyes moving from right to left in a lost way. « little bugger. » you drop as you got out of the vehicle, slamming your door before finding yourself on his side of the car.

now facing him, his eyes explored your face as you frowned. « what? » you say almost aggressively, rising on tiptoe to unhook his belt. « you're cute, » he tried to articulate, playing with a lock of your hair, « and a bit blurry. but definitely always so cute. » — rolling your eyes, you shook your head negatively, ready to flick him on the forehead, but remembering his condition, you suddenly felt sorry for him and decided to simply help him to find his way to bed.

pulling him out of the car, you helped him as best you could to reach your building's elevator, tapping on number three and waiting desperately for it to reach your floor. « i'm seeing you twice. » he said suddenly, losing his balance slightly.

« yes. you're drunk. » you sighed, grabbing his waist with both of your arms. his chin rested on the top of your head, and his long fingers clung to your sweater. and you could swear you weren't ready to hear the words that left his mouth right afterwards.

« yes. and hopelessly in love with you. »

gently raising your face to his, you didn't have time to lose yourself in his deep brown eyes, as the elevator door opened. shaking your head as if to regain your composure, you grabbed him gently and pulled him towards your door, unlocking it in the blink of an eye. « come on, let's get you to bed. » you whispered, helping him off with his shoes, before leading him to the bedroom.

yudai instantly dropped onto your mattress, as you stripped him of his jacket, helping him to wrap himself in your sheets. « okay, g'night. » you say suddenly, ready to get up and leave the room, but his hand grips your wrist. « y/n, » he whispered, straightening up to reach your ear, « don't tell my sober me that i told you i love you. it was a secret. »

a gentle smile took place on your lips, before nodding, watching him fall back onto the mattress, closing his eyes for a well-deserved night's sleep. « okay, i'll keep it a secret until you're brave enough to tell me sober. » and with one last kiss planted on yudai's temple, you left the room for your sofa and spent the night thinking and imagining scenarios in front of the television.

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