#[mr incredible voice] I can’t. not again. I’m not strong enough

[carpisuns]

hi I just read the tags on your last post and I'm dropping in to tell you that you're literally the least annoying person ever and also your art is amazing okay byyyyyeeeeee ♥️♥️

SHJSSK you are very sweet<3 I literally have 30 checkmarks tho it’s like a big neon sign that says I’m Annoying lmao

[cassatelle]

I want to wear his initial (I kinda did)

Day 7 of @bucktommypositivityweek: red string of fate/soulmates 739 words Rating: Teen and Up Tags: Fluff, Red String of Fate, Sharing Clothes, Implied Sexual Content

Tommy rifled through Evan’s closet, searching for something to wear. Their date night had turned into a sleepover, and he was left with no clean clothes. He thumbed through a pile of wardrobe, hoping to find something old, something that might have stretched out enough for him to fit. His hand then landed on an worn-out LAFD T-shirt—so faded the black had turned to a dark grey, with a hole near the neckline and frayed seams at the bottom. Which looked oddly familiar.

“Evan?”

“Mm-hm?”

Tommy turned to Evan, who was still sprawled on the bed, naked. “Where did you get this?”

Evan glanced up from his phone, eyeing the shirt in Tommy’s hand. “From the firehouse, of course.  That’s my pajama, you don’t want to wear that—it got my drool and, you know, other things,” he grinned, making air quotes. “Pick something nicer, babe.”

Tommy wasn’t amused. “No, seriously,” he said, fully facing Evan now. “Where exactly did you get this?”

Evan’s brows furrowed, confused. “In my locker… Why? Is something wrong?”

Tommy didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Evan as things started to click inside his mind. “Baby… this is my shirt.”

Evan blinked, propped up as he processed Tommy’s words. “What? No way!” 

They both moved to the center of the bed. Tommy’s hand then slipped beneath the fabric, fingers seeking out the wash care label along the side seam of the shirt. He held it up to Evan. “Look, my handwriting.”

Evan’s eyes flicked between Tommy’s face and the label. His eyes widened. There, indeed, was a bold ‘TK’ marker stroke on it that somehow he had never noticed. 

“How did you end up with this?” Tommy asked, his tone mirroring Evan’s shock.

“I-I don’t know! It was my-my first few days at work, I forgot my change at home, and-and his shirt was just sitting there in my locker, so I wore it,” Evan stammered.

Tommy’s eyebrows shot up as a laugh of pure delight slipped from him. “I can’t believe this! I didn’t pack this because this shirt was so torn up,” he shook his head. “I meant to toss it out, but the surprise happened, and I guess I just forgot.”

Evan chuckled, still watching it with disbelief. What the hell? His heart warmed and head raced at the fact that he was using Tommy’s old locker the whole time. And his shirt on top of that. What the fucking hell? “Poor thing. Thankfully, I swooped in and saved it,” Evan teased.

“Well, thanks for the rescue, Mr. Firefighter,” he smiled, teased back. “But now I’m curious, though, what things have you done while wearing my shirt?” He rested his elbows on the duvet and leaned back, half-lying down, fluttered his eyelashes at Evan with a smirk on his lips.

Evan gave a cheeky grin, brushing his fingers lightly against Tommy’s cheek and jaw. “Want to find out?”

They ended up staying in bed until noon, Tommy still shirtless, Evan had slipped into the old shirt instead. He tugged at the label, tracing Tommy’s initials with his fingers. “You know, I wear this shirt a lot. Like, a lot.”

Tommy smiled, soft as he gently stroked his hand along Evan’s upper arm. “Yeah?”

“Yeah! I wore it on my stressful days, like, when I had bad calls, after I got struck by lightning, during my recovery, after the lawsuit… I’m not sure why, but this shirt just… comforts me.” He looked up at Tommy, his eyes wide and watery. “Isn’t it just so crazy that Even before I knew you, you were there for me?”

Tommy’s heart swelled. He tightened his embrace, pressing kisses to Evan’s forehead. “I’m glad. And I’m incredibly proud of you for staying strong through everything. I wish none of it had happened and will never happen again, but, I hope I can keep being there for you.”

Evan reached up to cup Tommy’s face in his hands. “Hey, you do, you already did,” he said, his voice soft. “And please, stay with me, now and in the future too.”

Tommy’s smile was warm and sincere, eyes crinkled and all. “Of course, I will,” he whispered. Their lips then brushed together in a tender, lingering kiss.

Even when they finally pulled away, Evan still looked at him with that awe in his eyes. “The universe is really funny sometimes,” he mused, “I might need to do some research on this.”

[tact-and-impulse]

Narumayo Week 2024 Day 6

This one's for the haters lol. @narumayoweek2024, enjoy! Second part is forthcoming.

Prompt: AU

If Mia hadn’t left her lunch on the kitchen counter, they probably wouldn’t have met that day.

Maya unfortunately noticed the mishap, long after her sister joined the morning traffic jam. So, she slung the tote’s long strap over her shoulder and set out on her bike. She made surprisingly good time, taking the free spot on the bike rack under the building’s sign.

Armando, Fey, and Wright Law Offices.

She’d visited once, to surprise Mia and her boyfriend Diego with takeout, for their hard work overtime because the other lawyer was out sick. She hoped Mia would be delighted, and in excitement, she hurtled past the elevator doors. Right into someone else.

Hands clasped her shoulders, and a deep voice sent vibrations right to the middle of her chest. “Whoa, there. You okay?”

She looked up, heat climbing up her face. Broad shoulders, a sharp jawline, kind eyes meeting hers. Her fingers were pressed against a waistcoat, the edges of darker blue lapels. She gasped. “Y-yes. Sorry! Um, hi.”

He smiled, and her stomach flipped. “Hi. Where are you headed to in such a rush?”

“I’m looking for Mia Fey’s desk. Are you an attorney too?” The sunflower badge hadn’t escaped her attention.

“I am. Do you have a case for Ms. Fey? She’s fantastic to work with.”

Handsome, nice, and complimentary of her sister? Maya was absolutely gone. “Actually-”

“Maya?” The other elevator opened, and her sister strode out, heels clicking on the linoleum. Her surprised expression flitted from Maya to the stranger, and in an instant, they both remembered to let go of each other. “I see you’ve met Wright. Er, Mr. Wright.”

He flinched, rubbing the back of his neck. His left hand was completely bare. “Just call me Phoenix. Otherwise, it makes me sound like an old man.”

“Well, you’re four years older than me.” Mia countered, while Maya tried not to blush. Oh, so he was fourteen years older than Maya. She suspected he was older; still, it didn’t diminish her impression of him. “Wright, this is my sister, Maya. And oh, my goodness. It must have slipped my mind. Thank you for bringing my lunch bag, but you didn’t have to come all this way.”

“I wanted to!” And she was incredibly happy she did, she thought, sneaking a glance at Phoenix.

“This is the second time you’re here to bring food, we should pay you back somehow.”

“Second?” Phoenix pointed out.

“The first was when you were out sick.”

“Shame I keep missing out then.”

“I can make you something!” Maya blurted.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to imply.” He hastily said.

“I’m not doing much other than spiritual training. Any special requests?”

The aroma of black coffee accompanied the interruption. “This guy? He’ll swallow anything.” Maya turned to see Diego, who grinned at her and then greeted Mia with a kiss on the cheek.

Phoenix rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that was a long time ago. Anyway, I’m not picky. And I’ll have a surprise in return, Maya.” And if saying her name wasn’t enough, he had to wink.

That scene replayed over and over, as she raced back to the apartment. Her whole body was on fire, courtesy of Phoenix Wright. She had to give this her best shot.

Little did she know, she’d meet him again in far more precarious circumstances.

***

Maya pressed her hand against the glass, watching as Mia’s lifted to do the same. It felt cold, no trace of her sister’s warmth. “Sis…”

“It’ll be okay, Maya.” The brave smile wavered. “I’m no stranger to court, after all.”

“But you’re the defendant! And I know you’re not guilty.” She refused to believe it. Her strong and benevolent big sister, murdering Mr. Grossberg? Never. Even if Mia was the last person to visit him, that couldn’t be the full story.

Mia took a breath. “Thank you, Maya. How’s Diego?”

“Really upset. He broke three cups, when he got the letter that he can’t defend you.”

“Conflict of interest, because Grossberg knew we were dating. So, that’s why I’m asking you, Wright.” She turned to the chair next to Maya’s.

He looked very grave. “Of course, I’ll represent you. I’m investigating as soon as I leave here.”

Maya then asked. “Can I come with you?”

Phoenix hesitated, but Mia nodded. “I think that’s a good idea. I believe in both of you.”

With that, Phoenix caved, and he held the door open for Maya as they walked out. “Let’s start at Grossberg’s office.”

They followed the trail to a statue of the Thinker, which Phoenix sighed at, and a wiretap to the Gatewater Hotel. In the cold lobby, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over her. Maya had to close her mouth, and she felt irrationally jealous of the secretary obviously flirting with him. She wasn’t sure if she was that helpful, but Phoenix insisted she was.

“You have a good eye for things out of place, and you’re certainly faster than I am. I could use some of your energy.” He snapped his wooden chopsticks, stirring his bowl.

She thought of a few ways to transfer that energy to him, but instead, she casually said. “Miso ramen is the biggest energy boost. And I could have paid for my share.”

“Nope, I can’t let you, when I have my name up on a sign.” He dryly said and she laughed. His smile deepened. “Diego would probably throw his coffee at me, not to mention Mia’s wrath.”

“Mia doesn’t get angry that often, even if I deserved it. I definitely gave her trouble.” Now that she was twenty-one, she cringed at her early years.

“Oh, really? You could have fooled me.”

“Once, I broke a precious family heirloom and she took the blame.”

Their conversation turned to small talk, about the village where she and Mia came from, and how he studied art before a late switch to law. Almost like a date. Her heart fluttered at the thought. Interacting more only served to deepen her fondness of him. He was funny and sarcastic, but mature and patient too. He was older, but he didn’t lord it over her. He treated her like an equal, like a partner. She liked that about him.

And then, the court date arrived. Maya had never seen a trial before, and despite the nerves and stress, she soon understood why Mia loved her job. The evidence was brought out, analyzed with the witness testimony, and contradictions were found. It was also exciting to watch Phoenix at work, as he slammed his hands on the desk and confidently proclaimed objections. It was like he was dueling the prosecutor, whose initial composure was cracking. She studied Phoenix’s frown, his tilted smirk, his thoughtful look as he cupped his chin. In the crowd of spectators, she caught Diego’s raised eyebrow and attempted to curb her frequent stares.

After hours of proceedings, the man from Bluecorp finally confessed. Grossberg could no longer withstand the years of shame and planned to incriminate the CEO for blackmailing him; it was a fatal mistake to reveal it, but justice would be delivered. The judge’s gavel swung and Mia Fey was declared not guilty.

Confetti rained down, and Maya cried out, her voice breaking. “We did it!”

Phoenix echoed her. “We did it!” He hugged her, lifting her off the ground. And as he set her on her feet, his eyes crinkling in joy, she knew.

She was in love.

[conquerthenight]

Hello- I just wanted to let you know that when I sort of casually decided to search the Rebecca The Musical tags on tumblr and then I saw you're one of the people who made the Rebecca The Musical playlist on youtube and oh my goodness I was so excited, I actually texted my wife in the middle of the evening to tell her, it felt like when you find out a celebrity is on tumblr! I've been listening to the playlist nonstop for the last month or so- like all of my work has been done to it, I listen to it when I exercise and I'm just really impressed by the quality of the singing and the translations etc. Discovering it really made up for not getting to see the musical in London. My personal favourite songs are You'll Never Be A Lady, Alone Again, Bottle of Memories and Mrs De Winter Is Here (and I also have a fondness for anything with Jack Favell in, he's just delightful). I love how all the characters sound- like how I can imagine them all perfectly from how strong each character comes across in how they're sung, Mrs van Hopper is so brash and obnoxious and Ich is so anxious and sweet and Mrs Danvers is such a queen and you even made me quite like Maxim, who I was always kind of indifferent to in the book. I can't imagine how you had the time and energy to do the whole thing but I'm also so very grateful that you did because I love it so much. Anyway, sorry to send this out of the blue, I just wanted you to know how much I'm enjoying your creation! (oh and especial thank you for putting the lyrics online too!)

Oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god it’s 3 am and I’m crying tears of joy!!!! Thank you so so much, I am so over the moon that you loved Fanbecca enough to write such a sweet message. I’m shaking so much I’m so happy!!!

The person who sang Ich is actually me. That’s my (very obviously American 😂) voice you were hearing. I’ll admit, “Bottle of Memories” was NOT my best vocally, so I’m surprised that was your favorite, but I’m so glad you liked it. My friend Daytona was Maxim and he was also the one who did the editing and uploading of all the videos. I’ve gotten multiple messages from people who have said that he got them to like (or at least sympathize with) Maxim after previously not liking the character. That to me is a huge testament to how dedicated he was to the whole role. Our Danny is definitely a queen, I adore her. She also put her entire soul into this project. She’s German singing in perfect English and I just can’t hype her up enough.

This is the first time anyone’s commented on our Favell and Van Hopper (fun fact, our Danny had to step in as Van Hopper for “I’m An American Woman” because we did last minute rewrites to that song and our original Van Hopper and the understudy we had on standby weren’t available). Both of them absolutely slayed, I absolutely HATED “You’ll Never Be A Lady” until I heard her sing it. The guy who did Favell has actually been part of Fanbecca since Daytona and I finished writing the first draft of lyrics back in early 2019. Mrs. Van Hopper was also part of an earlier draft in 2020. Both of them came back for the final drafts and I cannot thank them enough.

Also, I never got to see Rebecca in London either. Couldn’t afford it and I live on the wrong side of the world so I spent my time on Tumblr and the casts’ Instagrams to see what I could of it. I also got my hands on an audio and that cast was incredible. Lauren, Richard, and Kara my absolute beloveds 🥰.

Thanks again for your ask and your follow, and my apologies for the rambling in my response XDDD

[margowrites]

Hi my lovely friend! I have another request if that’s ok, please and thank you❤️❤️How about from teaching ideas- “How do you spell it?” With either Bucky and reader or even Bucky and Steve (either is totally fine) and you can add an AU if you like! Could be like college AU or something or regular! Yay! Thank you! Hugs and love❤️

Can’t Take My Eyes off of You

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU!)

Summary: You’ve been infatuated with a boy in your class for quite some time. This time all the seats are taken and he’s sitting next to you, making it harder for you to concentrate on the lesson. Bucky asks for help with spelling, not that he really needs it but it’s an excuse to hear your voice.

Word count: 1,625

Author’s Notes: My sweetie pie @jobean12-blog ❤️ I can’t thank you enough for being so incredibly kind and sending me requests 🥺 they make me truly so happy and I’m so honoured to write something for you! Hugs to you my beautiful friend ❤️❤️❤️

Warnings: Fluff, crushes, Bucky is a little sassy towards the Professor, Professor Wilson, mild language (one or two words of fuck), crushes to lovers implied.

If it was under any other circumstances, you would be positive that it was the heatwave outside that caused you to sweat profusely and your clothes to stick to your skin. You would blame it on the sun that was far too hot combined with the speed walk you did across campus just so you wouldn’t miss your class. You would blame it on any other reason apart from the true reason as to why you were currently sitting in your seat with your heart pounding out of your chest, covered in sweat with your hands shaking and unable to grip your pen.

And the real reason wasn’t because of the summer heatwave, the sun or the unbearable and sticky humidity. Your current state is all because of one boy; A top A student in all of his classes, a boy who makes all the girls and even some of the boys swoon just because of his existence. A boy, who loves his leather jackets - even in the scorching heatwave - likes to keep his hair tied back into a bun or low ponytail. A boy who loves to wear his dark jeans and dogtags. An almost 19 year old boy named Bucky Barnes, who you also happen to have a very big crush on. The same boy who was currently sitting right next to you because he was late to class and all the other seats were taken.

This lesson wouldn’t be easy. You were just so infatuated by him. Everything Bucky did fascinated you and you often found yourself staring at him in a dreamlike state when the two of you had the same classes. Watching the way he would roll his toothpick between his teeth, the way he would hold his pen and letting the tip of it glide smoothly across the paper to write down notes. The way he would swing back dangerously in his chair only to be told off by Professor Wilson because, “boy, you could swing back so much your head would crack against my floor and I’m not cleaning it up. Sit properly!”

Bucky even smelled so good, like soo soo good. A sandalwood scent mixed with sweat and something else permeated the dusty air around you that tickled your nostrils that you were sure you would be smelling for days. Not that you would ever complain about that. Being this close to him was a once in a lifetime opportunity and you would make the most of it.

“Y/N?” His voice rang through your ears, snapping you out of your current thoughts. His voice was deep for a college boy, his blue eyes watching you carefully.

You cleared your throat and shifted awkwardly in your chair. Your damp clothes from the sweat squeaked against the hard plastic, causing your cheeks to heat up in embarrassment. If Bucky heard, he didn’t comment on it. That was the other thing you liked about him. Bucky was mostly polite, unless you crossed him, in which his ex-girlfriend caused a scene in the cafeteria one time and Bucky came prepared with his colourful language. They had been having problems for quite some time according to his other friend, Wanda who filled you in on all the gossip. “I- yes?” You stuttered, shaking your head as though it might just shake your nerves away.

“I said, can I borrow a pen? I gave mine to Steve who is currently holding it hostage…” he chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. Wait, why was he nervous?

You nodded and pulled a spare black pen from your pencil case. From your observations, you learned he loved to write in black ink only and that’s what you gave him with shaky hands, you pushed it towards him and smiled.

“Thanks, doll! I owe you one!” He smirked, plucking the toothpick from his mouth and licking his plump pink lips.

Oh Jesus Christ.

You knew this would be impossible. Everything Professor Wilson was teaching right now went right over your head. You just knew it was something something about dinosaurs. No information was registering and trying to concentrate just wasn’t going to happen. Not when your crush was right next to you, anyway. The veins in his hands were prominent and the temptation was strong to run your fingertips over the lines. His other hand was moving quickly as he jotted down notes, already halfway down the page. You blinked and stared down at your blank page. Your mind refusing to soak in what’s being taught and your hand refusing to lift your pen and write. Something would be better than nothing, you tell yourself but you’re nervous. Bucky is more interesting than the lesson.

Bucky stops writing for a few seconds to look at you. He frowns, curious if something is going on because from his own observations he knows this is one of your favourite lessons and you’re always keeping up.

Bucky leans in, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear sends a shiver down your spine. “Are you okay?” He smiles, his shirt too tight for his body, you notice.

You nod and smile awkwardly. “Yeah, I’m fine, just finding it difficult to catch up this time.” You sigh, your racing heart still pounding in your chest. The room feels much hotter than it was when you first arrived, even with the air conditioning cranked up.

“Okay, doll. Just checking.” He smirked and started to swing back on his chair as the professor started the second half of his lesson.

Professor Wilson walked around with his hands behind his back as he talked about fossils and mammals that existed almost 169 million years ago. “Mr Barnes! Put your legs on the ground in this instance!” Professor Wilson lectured him and shot him a stern warning look.

“They are on the ground.” Bucky sassed back, rolling his eyes and earning giggles from girls a couple of desks away. Professor Wilson sighed and shook his head.

“If you fall and crack your head I-”

“Yeah, yeah. You won’t clean it up, I know.” Bucky dismissed Professor Wilson’s worries with a wave of his hand and started to take notes once again as soon as the professor carried on with his lesson.

“And the Tuojiangosaurus was found in China 157 million years ago. It was known to be 7.0m in length and weighed a hefty 1500kg.” Professor Wilson brought up slides of what the dinosaur would have looked like.

“What a fuckin’ beast.” Bucky murmured under his breath, “how do you spell whatever he just said?”

A breathy laugh escapes you and you scratch an itch on your nose. “Uh so, TUOJIANGOSAURUS.” You spelled out for him slowly.

“Thanks doll. I thought you weren’t paying attention to the lesson.” He teases, a sly smirk on his face.

“I remembered the spelling from my spelling bee test.” You grow shy under his now intense and impressive stare.

“Well, he should have these in big letters on the board.” He scoffed and you giggled.

“He… does…” you point to writing under the pictures, the names of the dinosaurs in big black bold letters. A shade of pink dusts Bucky’s cheeks and he dips his head with a smile.

“I know, I just like hearing your voice. You sound really sweet. S’like music to m’ears.”

Oh my goodness. This couldn’t be happening, right?

“Oh I uh- really?” You stammered, mesmerised by his homely blue eyes.

“Really doll, I’ve wanted to ask you-”

“Barnes! Since you’re distracted. Tell the class about the Triceratops. We’re waiting.” Professor Wilson stands in front of your desk, his arms folded over his chest and his foot taps impatiently against the tiled floor. All eyes are on Bucky as he sighs and subtly rolls his eyes under his eyelids.

“The- whatever you just said is a horny dinosaur with teeth.”

“Correction. He has a horny beak.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Please elaborate next time Barnes.” Professor Wilson shakes his head and his eyes narrow on your blank page. “Miss y/l/n? Why have you not been taking notes?!”

Your voice was lost, what could you tell him? That you were too busy watching your crush and not paying attention?

“She’s not feeling well and she can copy my notes. S’no big deal.” Bucky spoke and you felt so relieved. Professor Wilson seemed to be satisfied with that answer and went back to finish up his lesson.

“Thank you.” You leaned in and whispered, sighing when things didn’t feel any better for you. Your heart rate was still out of control and you’re pretty sure there might be a damp spot on your seat.

“It’s okay, doll face. You can copy my notes and be my study buddy in the library if you want to.”

If you want to? Of course you want to!

“Yes- I’d like that!” You smiled and pulled your lip between your teeth. “What were you going to say earlier? Before Professor Wilson interrupted?”

Bucky’s cheeks turned from a light shade of pink to a crimson red. He chuckled quietly and nervously.

“You’ll say no!” He chuckled, his eyes darting from your eyes to your lips.

“Try me.” You challenge, mimicking his movements with your eyes.

“I’ll tell you when we’re at the library. Deal?” He winks, and shushes you as he writes down his final notes, catching the slight nod of your head.

Your mind went into a frenzy. All it took was for all the seats to be taken and for Bucky to sit next to you this once to escalate things. You wished he was late sooner. What was he going to say to you earlier? You couldn’t wait to find out as you sunk back in your chair with the biggest smile on your face, feeling like the happiest person in the world.

[rickmandowneyjr]

Cuts to Cope

Angst, fluff Pairing: Severus Snape and Student!Reader (platonic) Warning: talk of self-harm, mentions of character's death Word Count: 2348 A/N: This is a little piece I wrote a while ago but didn't know if I should post or not. After re-doing certain bits, I decided to upload it. Hope it's not too difficult to read. As always, the ending is a little abrupt and not too detailed, leaving it sort of up to y'all as well :) Sorry if there are any typos (I only ever get the time to write when it's quite late nowadays)

Yet another day at Hogwarts - waking up at 6:30 am, showering, getting dressed in your robes, and heading to breakfast. Wishing everyone you passed a good morning, wearing your signature smile as you did.

You were a 7th year, one of the few returning ones after last year's incident with Cedric Diggory. He'd been your best friend, or at least that's what people thought. Cedric Diggory and you had been dating for the last 7 months before his death. You didn't want anyone knowing because being star students meant eyes prying into every aspect of your relationship.

People praised you, a model student and now, prefect, who set an example. An example of how to be strong and cope no matter what life threw at you. Little did they know, you harboured a little secret. A dark, horrifying, and disturbing secret that would never let anyone look at you the same way if they ever found out.

Your first class for the day was Potions. You were a brilliant student, especially at Potions, yet Snape still had something against you. You didn't take it personally, though; he wasn't really fond of anyone. You walked into class, taking your regular seat at the front. Snape walked into class a little while later, slamming the door behind him, commanding everyone's attention.

"Turn to page 420," he drawled. You opened the book to find the recipe for Amortentia. Your heart felt a tug at the name of the love potion, never having been able to find out the answers with Cedric.

Snape's deep voice brought your focus back to class as he said, "Since it takes a week to brew, I've already completed most of the process. All you need to do is the last day's work," making the class sigh with relief. "However," he continued, "The last day of brewing is crucial and not easy. So, I expect your attention to be fully on the task at hand."

You began brewing the potion, following the steps perfectly. Snape sat down to grade papers as the class worked. He looked at you and said, "Ms. [L/N], roll up your sleeves while you work. I'd hate for there to be mishaps in my class because of one student's carelessness."

You hesitated, but then did as asked. You weren't the best at wandless magic but had made sure to perfect this spell solely for such instances. As you rolled your sleeves, you subtly waved your hand over your forearms, mumbling, "Illusiont," and casting the disillusionment charm.

You saw Snape narrow his eyes at you and panicked for a second before you saw him shake his head and return to grading. Breathing a sigh of relief, you returned to the task at hand and continued brewing.

After a while, you'd finished, and were the first one to have done so. Snape walked over to your desk and took a whiff of the potion, raising an eyebrow before giving you a single nod of approval, letting you know that it was perfect. Once everyone was done, he walked around, starting at the back, and asked everyone to announce what they smelled. You hadn't smelled your Amortentia yet and hadn't planned on doing so either, feeling quite relieved when Snape hadn't asked that question earlier.

Your heart rate quickened as you began to worry about how your body and mind would react to smelling it. You couldn't do it last year, since the Triwizard tournament had led to a bunch of classes being cancelled. As you thought about how excited you had been at the prospect of sharing the experience with Cedric, Snape's voice pulled you back to your potions class.

"Ms. [L/N]."

"Yes, sir?"

He rolled his eyes in annoyance. "What. Do. You. Smell," he spoke, irritation evident in every word.

You swallowed hard as you leaned forward to inhale the scent. Your pupils dilated, your heartbeat quickened and your knees threatened to give out at the all-too-familiar fragrance. Your throat went dry as you stopped the tears from forming.

"Well? We haven't got all day, class is to be dismissed soon." He raised an eyebrow at you, asking you to hurry up since you were the last one.

With every ounce of energy, you calmed yourself and stopped your voice from wavering. "Old books, butterscotch and... vanilla," you sighed. Your breathing was erratic and you knew you needed to get out of class and get to the abandoned girls' washroom.

As if on cue, the bell rang, dismissing the class. Snape gave you an odd look and was about to ask you what was wrong but you had already gathered your belongings and were marching out the door. He decided to follow you since he'd never seen you act like that before and was wondering what had happened to you all of a sudden.

You made your way up the stairs, hurrying before you had a breakdown in the middle of the hallway. As you reached the washroom, you started rummaging through your bag since the hallway was empty. You took the small blade that you carried around out, pushing the door to the bathroom open.

Snape's POV

I followed her out of the classroom. Though not my favourite, [Y/N] was an incredible witch and this wasn't normal behaviour for her. She'd marched out before I had even dismissed class which concerned me even more, given her usually 'perfect' behaviour. She paced through the hallways and up the stairs so fast that I could've sworn she was moving around faster than I did on a normal basis. There was an urgency in her stride and I don't know why, but it concerned me.

She finally turned into the hallway leading to the girls' washroom on the third floor, which was odd. No one used this, as far as I was aware. I was a little embarrassed, considering I'd just followed a young girl to a washroom. In an isolated area, at that. I swear I never would've imagined myself going even further and following her in, but what I'd seen had shocked and concerned me enough to do just that.

End of Snape's POV

As you entered the bathroom, you had missed Snape, whose eyes were wide with shock. He couldn't believe what he'd seen. [Y/N] [L/N], the golden girl of Hogwarts, had just walked into an abandoned washroom after pulling out a blade from her bag. Not wanting to jump to any conclusions, he rushed in, wanting to confirm what his eyes had just seen.

As you were about to enter a stall, the door to the bathroom, swung open, making you jump. You hid the blade by making a fist, unintentionally cutting into your palm. You winced at the unexpected pain but didn't let it show.

You turned to face Professor Snape, and he was eyeing your hand. 'There's no way he saw it, is there?' you thought.

"Ms. [L/N], care to show me your hands?"

You panicked. He knew. You tried to divert his attention. "Sir, this is the girls' washroom."

"I'm aware," he stated. "Now... Hands," he said as he glared at you, letting you know that he wouldn't fall for any attempts to change the subject.

You sighed and opened your hands, and saw his gaze soften. He walked to you taking your hand in his as he gently pulled the razor out. You winced as it came out, knowing this would impair you for the rest of your classes.

"What were you thinking?!" He scolded, startling you. He reached for your arm, rolling up your sleeves once again and muttered, "Finite."

The scars on your arms started showing up and you couldn't do anything but look away, your eyes resting anywhere but his gaze.

"So that was the Disillusionment Charm I heard you use, earlier."

You stayed silent, still refusing to meet his eyes. Of all the professors, it had to be him. Sure, he wasn't fond of you, but you had immense respect for the man, and to let him see you in this light... it took every bit of you to not lose your composure.

"Look at me," he said.

You turned to face him. His usually cold eyes showed too much concern and the uncharacteristic response from the potions master was proving to be a lot to handle. Tears stung your eyes as he stared at you.

"Why?" He asked, his voice so genuine that you couldn't help but let your emotions spill, creating a mess that you couldn't be bothered to care about anymore.

"I can't do this anymore," you sniffled. "I don't want to. He was everything to me and it just hurts so much."

"Who?"

"Cedric."

"Ah, yes. I'm aware you and Mr. Diggory were best friends. I'm sorry, [Y/N]."

"No," you said, finally being able to talk to someone about it. "He was my boyfriend. And... I never got to tell him I loved him... because I wasn't sure. Today just made it worse when I smelled him in my Amortentia. It confirmed that I did and I never got to say it." You were sobbing now, not caring what you looked like, what a mess you probably were, or what Snape was thinking of you and your confession.

You felt him awkwardly wrap his arms around you as he pulled your head to his chest. Your cries got louder and your wails of agony echoed in the empty washroom as your hands clutched the fabric of his robes. The feeling of someone comforting you was overwhelming. You'd always had to keep up this image of a perfect student, reliable friend, someone who could never have such horrifying tendencies.

Even then, as you cried out loud, your instinct made you bury your face in his chest, muffling the 'ugly' sobs. Snape's heart broke as your thoughts flooded his mind. As you struggled to breathe, he turned your head slightly, making you audible again. He didn't hush you; just stroked your hair as your tears soaked his robes.

It took a while, but you finally calmed down, your sobs reducing to soft whimpers before they died out entirely. Your throat was sore, and lips, chapped from all the crying. Your eyes were red and puffy, and the reality of the situation finally came crashing down on you.

Your secret was out. More than one, at that. One of the professors knew, and the strictest one too. You had just spent Merlin knows how long crying into his chest, which was now soaked with your tears.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, your voice, hoarse. "Your robes are all wet now," you said, trying to move away.

"That's the least of my worries right now," he said, keeping your head in place as he continued, "I understand what you're going through. Better than you'd know." It sounded like it was painful for him to talk about it, the tone of his voice giving the vulnerability away. "But this is not the way to deal with it," he said as rubbed your back.

"Does it go away?"

"I'll be honest," he sighed. "It does get lesser with time if you allow yourself to heal. However, it never goes away entirely. A part of you will always love and miss him. I'm sorry," he said.

"No, I'm glad. I don't want to forget him. Or my love for him. Cedric Diggory was and will always be - my first love."

You finally pulled away from his chest and looked him in the eyes as he gave you a gentle smile. You managed to muster a somber one and sighed.

"Do any of your friends know?"

"Merlin, no!"

"Why not? They're your friends. They could-"

"I can't have this getting out. Everyone will-"

"Who cares what people think?" He raised his voice. It was silent for a while before he sighed and spoke again.

"[Y/N], I want you to promise me something."

You knew what was coming. You gulped and nodded softly.

"I want you to promise me that you'll stop this. Cedric wouldn't want this for you."

"I know, and I've tried before. It's not that simple-"

"I know," he said, cutting you off. "Which is why, the next time you get the urge to do this, you'll come to me. No matter what the situation might be."

You were surprised at his words. It was incredibly nice of him to offer this to you, and you nodded, accepting his generosity.

"Also," he continued, "Please stop going to such great lengths to please others and worrying about what others think. It's not healthy."

"But-"

"But nothing. Your health is suffering and you can't even bring yourself to tell anyone because you're so busy keeping up this little charade of 'everything is fine'."

You stayed silent. There was truth in his words and you couldn't refute his accusations. You just looked up at him, once again, finding the uncharacteristic concerned look meeting your gaze. Nodding softly, you agreed. How could you not when someone had shown you such consideration and compassion?

A small smile graced his usually stoic face as he helped you up, and you both made your way out of the bathroom. He escorted you back to your dormitories, ensuring you were alright before the two of you parted ways.

The rest of the school year passed and Snape stayed true to his word, and you to yours. Every time you felt the urge to hurt yourself to relieve the pain, you'd find Snape. He was patient and helped you every step of the way. Slowly, but surely, you were able to overcome your urges and also found yourself living for yourself, rather than up to others' expectations.

By the time you graduated, you had overcome the habit and thanked Snape in your graduation speech, never giving away the details as to why. A lot of people had assumed there was something between the two of you, especially since you went to meet him all through the school year, but you didn't let it bother you, because... Who cares what people think, right?

-

P.S. - Sorry I've been a little slow with the writing. My college assignments have started rolling in and I'm currently swamped. Also, I'm working on a little something (announcing it in 2-3 days so make sure to check in lol). Rest assured, I'm slowly and steadily making my way through requests. Thank you for understanding <3

[ijustwant2write]

Call Me By My Name-Pietro Maximoff x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @dailymarvelposts​)

Tags: @bloodorangemoonlight​ @amirahiddleston​

Requested by @husherstan​ : ‘could you write a one w pietro maximoff? idk if you know about a trend on tik tok where a gf or bf call them partners by they first name. Reader and Pietro are enemies cuz them both are always trying to be the best of t team, reader calls him by others names and when she (or gn) calls by him real name he was like "why are you calling me like that? whats wrong with you? are you feeling bad today?" (and he likes her so fucking much, a simp)’

Characters: Pietro Maximoff x Reader, Avengers team x Reader

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name   

(Character has the power of force fields, that both generate electricity and provide protection for them/others)  

Warnings: Name calling, bullying, arguing, fluff

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

“For the last time, watch where you’re going Speedy Gonzales!” I snapped as Pietro almost knocked me over again.

His form whizzed around the room once more before stopping in front of me.“Maybe try keeping up next time.”

I was startled by the force he left behind as he ran off again making a show of circling the entire training room multiple times, creating a small wave of air. I groaned loudly as I went back to jogging. He was such a show off, it infuriated me. We weren’t here to compete against each other, we were supposed to be a team; but when he waltzed around the place boasting about how fast he was, it was really hard not to step up to the plate. 

Pietro was running faster than usual, trying to overlap me dozens of times, more than he would have done in a normal session. It got on my last nerve, making me stop, my powers already flowing through my arms. It would be hard to pinpoint him, so I charged up a huge ball of electricity, casting it out harshly. I just managed to catch him, laughing as he yelped out in surprise, being thrown high into the air before landing on the sparring mats. I saw him slowly get up, clearly I had caused some pain. My fun was soon ended as he ran towards me again, having to quickly put up a force field that would protect me. Pietro bounced off it, though I hadn’t put any charge in this one, so he only fell on his backside.

“Enough!” Wanda yelled out, though we still kept our guard up around each other.“Really (Y/N)? You can relax now.”

“I don’t trust him.” I replied.

She sighed.“Come on, Steve wants to talk about the mission.”

“Why? We debriefed three days ago.”

“Something to do with it being on the news.” she shrugged, walking away.

Pietro glanced back at me, looking me up and down before following his sister. However, he didn’t look at me with disgust or anything of the sort, it was almost as if he was checking me out. I tutted at myself, why on Earth would he ever look at me like that?

I wasn’t happy joining the meeting in my sweaty state.Everyone else was dressed and put together, but at least Pietro looked similar. The team was gathered around a table, looking to Steve who was stood at the front, his arms crossed over his chest. He had the look of disappointment on his face, which meant bad news for the rest of us...or whoever was in trouble. With no seats left, I copied Steve’s stance at the back of the room, rolling my eyes when Pietro stood beside me.

“Sorry to call you guys in on such short notice.” Steve started.“But I feel that we have to discuss something that’s starting to effect the team.”

He pulled up a screen showing the news. It had images and videos of our last mission. We were raiding an old factory on the edge of the city, finding a terrorist group hiding out there as they worked on their gadgets. News coverage showed the team fighting from a helicopter view, and we were all confused as to why Steve was showing us this.

“Fastest man alive,” Pietro repeated what the reporter said,“it has a nice ring to it.”

“I wouldn’t put that in your Tinder bio.” I quipped, causing a few chuckles.

Steve looked at me.“And this is why we’re here today.”

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion.“What?”

“You and Pietro are always at each other’s throats. It’s...well frankly, it’s exhausting listening to you two arguing all the time. And it could seriously put someone in danger whilst on a mission, even you two.”

“He always starts it-”

Pietro held up a finger.“Hold on, you do too-”

“You’re just proving his point guys.” Natasha spoke over us.

“As I was saying,” Steve brought the attention back to him,“the media has also caught onto this. There’s multiple images of you two clearly arguing, or even getting in each others way during the mission. At one point, you’re both trying to save the same person, but almost miss that chance because you’re so invested in being better than the other!”

Steve was really mad, and from everyone else’s faces, they thought the same thing.

“So until all of this changes, you two are suspended from any missions.”

“What?!” we both exclaimed.

“And you may not approach any other team member for assistance with training.”

“Why are we both being punished?” I demanded to know.

“Oh, do not play the victim here Mrs Incredible!” Pietro snapped.

“Mrs Incredible is super stretchy, it’s the daughter who has the same powers as me, you idiot!”

“See? You’re further showing me that I made the right decision. I felt bad at first, but now I know that this is the right direction to go in.” Steve raised his voice.“You’re both dismissed.”

“Well, what are the rest of you doing?” Pietro dared to ask.

“We are going to go over all the planning we have done for upcoming missions. Everything has to change because of you two. Now please go.”

I held it together as I left the room, not wanting to appear like a toddler stomping away in a tantrum. It was impossible to get away from Pietro, what with him being ‘the fastest man alive’, but I was going to try. I didn’t need another argument right now, I was upset, needed to be alone. Apparently, I wasn’t going to get that.

“Leave me alone.” I warned Pietro as he followed me.

“I can’t believe this! They’ve kicked us off the team because you always have to say something-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“And to think, they’re going to risk not having me on the team. I help them with everything, I’m a crucial part-”

“Pietro!” I shouted, spinning on my heel to face him. 

His eyes widened at that, glancing down to my clenched up fists, little electric sparks running over them, before looking me in my teary eyes. 

I sighed, relaxing my tense shoulders and hands before leaving. There was no point trying to explain. He wouldn’t understand. We would both get mad, probably fight, the team would have to break us up; I had no energy to do that. Slowly turning away, I was surprised by the silence that followed, Pietro didn’t even follow me. 

I checked the time on the lock screen of my phone, seeing that an hour had passed since I fled from Pietro. It also made me realise how dark the room had become, the sun would set in a few minutes. But I didn’t bother turning on any lights, instead leaning back again on the chair. I was sat in an empty lobby, it was a small room, facing the floor to ceiling window that showed the landscape that surrounded the headquarters. Besides just sitting here, I should have distracted myself. Perhaps put on a film, relax after training, something to take my mind off of things. Instead, I decided to sit with my thoughts.

“H-hey.” I heard Pietro quietly say from the doorway. 

Looking over my shoulder, I didn’t reply, facing the window again when he began walking towards me. He hesitantly turned on a lamp near us, sitting on the chair beside mine. Pietro also looked out of the window, clasping his hands together for a few seconds before fidgeting. I tried to ignore it, though after an hour of peace and nothingness, it became irritating quickly.

“Can you stop?” I blurted out.“Please?”

“Are you annoyed by everything I do?” he asked.

“Not...everything. I just...doesn’t matter, it’s not like you care anyway.”

“That’s not true.”

“I’m not falling for this Pietro.”

“Why are you saying my name?”

“What?”

“You never say my name. Actually, we never say each others names.”

“And why does that matter?”

“It just feels, it feels serious.”

“I mean, we’ve basically been kicked off the team, so yeah, it’s serious.”

“We’ve not been kicked off the team (Y/N).”

“We could be if we don’t get our act together.”

“It won’t go that far-”

“But it could! I can’t believe how calm you are about the whole thing.” I stood, distancing myself from him.“I’ve worked too hard for this. Imagine what would happen if word got out that I was disbanded from the Avengers because of a tiny argument, with a team member who is so narcissistic that he can’t put others before himself!”

I realised I had began ranting, stopping myself before I said anything else hurtful. But by the look of Pietro’s face, it was already too late.

“I...I’m sorry (Y/N).” he never broke eye contact.“And before you say anything, I mean it.”

“Pietro, I-”

“I can see how much this job means to you.”

“It’s my fault too. I always try to outdo you or challenge you.”

“No, don’t be humble.” he got out of his seat, standing in front of me.“It’s almost always my fault that we argue. And I hate myself for it.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m usually very good with the ladies.” he grinned, though it disappeared when he realised it wasn’t time to joke.“But not around you apparently. It’s probably because you’re extremely strong and sure of yourself, and I go for a different type, the polar opposite to you.”

“Pietro, I...um...”

“I was really impressed by you when we first met. It made me nervous actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, all I can do is run really fast.”

“But, you’ve been on much more missions than I have. Doesn’t that say something?” I hung my head.

“Are you crazy? You’re not on those missions because they don’t need you.”

My head whipped up to see his smile drop.

“I didn’t mean it like that! I meant that those missions are for Avengers like me. The ones they can use over and over without worrying about them being too tired for the next one. What I’m trying to say is, you’re too important.”

“I never thought I would say this, but Pietro, you’re an important part of the team too. I always rose to your challenges because I felt I needed to prove something to the others. I was new, then I was accepted after all my relentless training, but when you and Wanda came along, I instantly became old news. And you didn’t even go through the rigorous regimes like I did, so I just assumed you were better than me.”

“It seems we were both wrong about each other. We were going through a lot of effort to outdo the other when we could have saved that energy for...well, anything else really.”

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

Pietro held his hand out.“Truce?”

I smiled up at him as I shook it.“Truce.”

A cheeky smirk appeared as he raised an eyebrow at me.“Let’s not tell the team about this just yet. I feel like there would be a lot of ‘I told you so’.”

“It’s like you read my mind.”

“And another thing.”

I noticed he was still holding my hand, though they were lowered now, and his grip wasn’t as firm.“Yes?”

“Can we start calling each other by our actual names?”

“I mean, I assumed we would anyway.”

“Oh, good. I just...”

“You just?”

“I just like the way it sounds when you say my name.”

[five-rivers]

@lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks came up with this op!Danny/Marvel AU!

BTW I need help naming this newest proof that I can't keep anything to a short little one-shot.

.

Loki was not, and never had been, a good man. For that matter, whether or not he’d ever been a good boy was debatable. His mother would argue that he had, but she would very likely be the only one. Well, except for Thor, perhaps, but that was because he was an idiot who could drown in three inches of nostalgia. Like he didn’t remember every time Loki had humiliated him. Maybe he didn’t, for all that he kept falling for the same trick over and over again.

It made Loki’s late nights studying the arts of illusion, misdirection, and lying seem redundant. Almost. Not everyone was as dense as his big brother.

No. Loki had never been a good man. He had, however, been a free man.

Free to run or hide. Free to explore the nooks and crannies of Asgard, to uncover her secrets in ways few cared to do. Free to walk hidden paths between the Nine Realms and even farther flung territories, where his people did not and had never ruled, to play games, make deals, have adventures, take risks. To be. To exist as his own creature.

He had been free. He had.

But on one of those little secret excursions, he had discovered something that had made even his flippant, slippery heart clench with fear. A ravening plague, spreading across the stars. The death of half of everything on the horizon.

Loki was not a good man. What cause did he have to care for all the sundry others in the universe? There were too many. It was too much to ask.

But Asgard—His home, even though the had long ago realized the blood in his veins originated on very different soil. That was different.

Asgard, he could help. Asgard could survive.

But it had to be strong. It had to have strong allies. None of this barely-held peace, this enemy eternally at their gates. It needed strong leadership. Not his brother’s simplistic view and longing for the glory of war.

Loki was not a good man. But he was one who could get things done.

Before he knew it, he had burned all his bridges behind him. In one case, a literal bridge that was literally broken.

And he fell.

And he fell.

And he fell right into the hands of the one he had feared enough to do this. Broken enough for poison to drip into the cracks. No one knew where he was, no one could know where he was, except, perhaps, Heimdal, and Loki sincerely doubted Heimdal cared. No one was coming for him. No one was looking for him. No rescue was forthcoming.

He was alone.

Asgardians were considered gods for a reason. Their bodies and minds were much more resilient than the average mortal’s. But Thanos’s people had been titans, and there was a reason for that, too.

Thanos enjoyed breaking him.

And Loki turned his lies on himself. A skilled master of games always had one gifted opponent, even alone. Hadn’t he wanted to rule? To command? To see a world, any world, prostrate at his feet? To be given the recognition and praise of which he was so worth?

To pull something, anything, out of the fire?

(If he had spent less time learning how to spin lies and more on how to see the truth, he might not have believed it. A better, wiser, man would have. But Loki was not a good man. And he was very skilled in his craft.)

So, his new master put a weapon in his hands, and he went off to conquer a world.

.

Danny was used to rude awakenings. He was used to those rude awakenings being full body chills and ghosts, not someone knocking on his door.

Blearily, he pulled himself out from under the blankets. Quasi-military government facility or not, the beds were comfortable. Maybe Mom or Dad had gotten themselves locked out of their room? Or Jazz—No, not Jazz, she hadn’t come with them. She was at college, not being flown places by Mom and Dad’s suspiciously generous new consulting job.

At least it wasn’t the GIW.

He stood on tiptoe (curse his perpetually short body) to peer out the peephole. His parents’ buff, one-eyed, and incredibly imposing new boss stood in front of the door, hands on his hips, slightly sweeping back his long dark coat. If Danny listened carefully, he could hear two other people near the door, and… was that an alarm? Yes. Faint, but present, was a warning klaxon.

Okay. Danny would bet his right arm that something had gone horribly wrong with whatever his parents were consulting on. Didn’t explain why the boss was in front of his door.

Unless they’d gotten the rooms mixed up, somehow?

Ugh. Danny wasn’t paid enough to deal with this.

He opened the door. “What-?”

“Phantom,” intoned eyepatch guy with great solemnity.

Danny immediately tried to close the door. The guy stuck his foot in the jamb, and, sure, Danny could have crushed it, but that would be a jerk move. He didn’t think this guy was going for a pirate look, after all.

“We need your help.”

.

“I’m not sure what you think I can help you with,” yelled Danny over the beating of the helicopter blades. He’d remained stubbornly in human form. “My parents are the scientists. This sounds like a science thing. Not a punching-people thing.”

“We spoke to them earlier,” said Fury, “and we have plenty of scientists working on the theories they brought up. You’re the one with practical experience.”

“Practical experience in what?”

“Interdimensional portals,” said the woman, who had yet to introduce herself.

As if this whole thing wasn’t already giving him a bad feeling. “My parents built an interdimensional portal. Again, you should be talking to them. They’re the ones you’re paying.”

“We could pay you, too,” said Fury, “but we assumed you would want to avoid letting your parents know about this, as you’re still a minor and they have control of your bank accounts.”

Danny stared flatly. “This is blackmail.”

“We aren’t threatening you,” pointed out the woman.

“Emotional blackmail,” said Danny, glaring, daring her to challenge him on whether or not he actually knew what blackmail was.

In the meantime, the helicopter landed. Danny unbuckled and hopped out, trailing slightly awkwardly behind Fury and the woman. He didn’t want to stand out, but he suspected that, being the only kid here and being in the general vicinity of Fury, who radiated authority, that was a lost cause.

“This is Agent Coulson. Coulson, this is Phantom.”

Danny’s mouth went dry(er) at how casual the introduction was. His eyes went nervously to all the other people running around the field. With all the noise, it was unlikely anyone had heard, but still…

“Can you not? Secret identity and all? Unless you’ve told everyone herealready, which, rude.”

Fury sighed. “How bad is it?” he asked Coulson.

“We’re not sure,” said Coulson. “That’s the problem. Big fan of your work, by the way,” he added as an aside to Danny. He glanced at the woman. “Agent Hill.”

“Background?” asked Fury as he led the way into the building.

“The first energy surge was four hours ago. Dr. Selvig’s equipment picked it up – He’s the head scientist on this project.”

“Dr. Selvig isn’t authorized to test,” said Fury. “We wanted to run his plans by the Fentons.”

“He wasn’t testing. He wasn’t even in the room. He called it ‘spontaneous advancement.’”

“It turned itself on?”

“What are the energy levels?” asked Fury before Hill’s question could be answered.

“Climbing,” said Coulson.

“Mr. Fenton,” said Fury, “any comments?”

“Look, I don’t even know what this thing that you built looks like or what it’s a door to.” Danny frowned as a thought occurred to him. “You’re not expecting me to fight whatever comes out of it, are you? Because, unless you’ve got a ghost portal down there, I can’t make guarantees.”

“It’s called the Tesseract,” said Coulson. “It’s supposed to be a connection to the other side of space. A source of unlimited energy. At least,” there was a note of humor in his voice despite the evacuation taking place around them, “that’s what the scientists say.”

“A door to space?” asked Danny, firmly shoving down his excitement at the prospect. “Like, a Stargate?” It was no good, he could practically feel himself sparkling. He took a firm grip of his core and reminded himself he might need to fight before the end of the day.

“Well, no,” said Coulson. “It’s this little… cube… thing.” He made a shape with his hands.

“Oh,” said Danny, mind still whirring. “You know, if it’s really a tesseract, it isn’t a cube in just three dimensions, so bigger things could come out of it than you’d think.” He’d seen some weird portals in the Ghost Zone.

“Well, right now, we’re just getting energy.” They entered a large room with an extremely sci-fi setup. It looked like they were planning to shoot some kind of laser across the room onto a platform surrounded by strange-looking panels. There were men with guns scattered around in what was probably a well thought out formation Danny couldn’t see. There was also a dude with a bow sitting up in the rafters. He frowned down at Danny as he noticed Danny noticing him.

“Dr. Selvig!”

“Director!”

“What do we know?”

Danny allowed himself to be distracted by the centerpiece of the room, a piece of machinery built around what was indeed a little cube thing. He tilted his head and approached, trying to get a better view of it around the people in lab coats and protective gear currently swarming it. He caught mention of radiation a grimaced.

It was unlikely to kill him, but, really, everyone here should probably be wearing more PPE. You never knew what was going to come out of an interdimensional portal, after all. Except trouble. Trouble was a pretty safe bet.

It was pretty. Blue. Reminded him a little of a blue raspberry ice pop. Part of him wanted to lick it. Which was stupid. He didn’t want to wind up half what-ever-lived-on-the-other-side on top of his regular ghost nonsense.

“Mr. Fenton?”

Danny jumped and turned, refocusing on the adults, who had multiplied while he’d been daydreaming. The guy with the bow had joined them.

“Mr. Fenton? Like the Doctors Fenton I spoke to earlier?” asked Selvig.

“Yeah, it’s—”

This, of course, was when everything decided to explode. Sort of.

The blue cube shot out a beam of energy that had more than a little in common with the Fenton Bazooka’s portal setting. The beam terminated on the platform, a portal rapidly forming.

Danny slid into a fighting stance, and barely even noticed as blue energy washed over the room, throwing many less-prepared people back.

Something shaped like a man stepped through the portal.

Danny did not break his stance. Still. “An alien,” he whispered, eyes wide. If they were friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space. If they weren’t friendly, maybe they’d answer his questions about space after Danny beat them up.

(Danny did not go ghost. Did not even think about going ghost. There were too many people here, and the space was too open.)

Fury attempted to negotiate. Danny approved. Not everything that came through an interdimensional portal was necessarily evil.

Except this guy apparently was. Go figure. He could also deflect bullets and was very good with throwing knives, which led to Danny having to pull several of the gun guys out of their own line of fire as well as the alien’s line of knife. Who would have thought an alien’s weapon of choice would be throwing knives? The energy-blasting spear was much more in line with his expectations.

The bow guy proved to be more competent than the gun guys. This didn’t really surprise Danny. Bow guy sort of had to be competent. Otherwise, no way would they let him go around with a bow. Like, seriously. A bow.

Even so, bow guy was fighting an alien and—

“You have heart,” said the alien, raising the spear.

Danny pushed bow guy out of the way, and his mind fuzzed out.

(The human part of it, anyway.)

.

Loki didn’t know what a child was doing here, and he didn’t particularly care. The boy would do for a hostage, at least. He had a mission he had to fulfil, or else…

Or else.

“Please don’t,” he said turning with a shadow of his usual lazy affect, vaguely insulted that the human thought he could be sneaker that him, “I still need that.”

The human went on and on, apparently burdened with the delusion that he was on the same level as Loki.

Loki was burdened with other things. A glorious purpose. Glad tidings. Freedom. What could be better than freedom?

“A world free from what?” asked the human.

“From freedom,” said Loki, and wasn’t that what he believed, now? Wasn’t that what he’d been shown? “Freedom is life’s great lie.” He would know. He was an excellent liar. “Once you accept that, in your heart—” He batted away an arrow and tsked. “Shield me, boy,” he demanded. Had Thanos misrepresented the scepter’s powers? Or was the boy merely—

A dome of green surrounded him and the boy, thrumming with magic the likes of which he had only seen once, in a tome thrice forbidden.

“Oh,” said Loki, almost purring. “You are interesting. What are you?”

“Half human, half ghost,” replied the boy, tersely.

Loki had never heard of such a creature. No matter. He’d be sure to make good use of him.

“Grab the scientist,” he said, nodding at the balding man who had been with his brother when he’d fought the Destroyer in the desert.

Loki wanted the archer. He seemed interesting. Useful.

.

Fenton was under thrall. Phantom knew what that felt like. A hundred feet under red water, trying not to drown, whispers everywhere. Pulling. Pushing. Prodding.

This was different, but the principle was the same.

Neither half of him could truly ‘fight’ the other. Fenton and Phantom were a single entity. Not two in lockstep. Even so.

Fenton grabbed onto Dr. Selvig, as ordered. Phantom made sure that was all they did.

“What are you doing, boy?” snapped Loki. “Follow me! Bring the scientist.”

And so, they followed.

.

Loki breathed. Acquiring Barton had been the right choice. The boy was powerful, but, perhaps because of his unique biology, did not have Barton’s presence of mind, and couldn’t have led him to such wonderful allies.

Allies.

These weren’t truly his allies. Nor were they subjects. They were…

Loki forced himself to breathe. He just had to follow the mission. Follow the mission, let Thanos’s army through. He’d been promised this world. He would have this world.

And then he could be… His mind stuttered over the next word, and he shook his head, trying to drive out the painful buzz of Thanos’s herald and mouthpiece trying to contact him.

He looked up at the drones bustling around, all according to his will. Except the boy, who stared at him, somehow managing to be both utterly blank and challenging at the same time.

He was alone, here.

He was alone.

But what did it matter? Bad men always wound up alone, and Loki… Loki could never be a good man.

[thebadgerclan]

Grief

Pairing: Aleksander Morozova x reader

Requested by @mrs-brekker15

Summary: Through your grief, Aleksander will be there...

A/N: Moved this up a bit on my list bc I wanted to get this to you sooner and I also wanted to write it sooner.  I’m so sorry for your loss, stay strong 💙🦌

Babushka is the Russian term for grandmother

The letter was written in your mother’s handwriting, her usually tidy letters shaky, the ink smeared from tears, both yours and hers.  Y/N, We’ve just received word that your grandmother passed away last night.  It was peaceful, she felt no pain.  We’re already planning her funeral, she will be buried following Grisha traditions.  We love you, -Mama.  Tears blurred your vision and you clutched the paper to your chest, shoulders shaking.

Your feet carried you out of your rooms, through the corridors and toward the War Room, toward the only person who could console you in your grief.  You and your grandmother were very close, her having played a huge part in your upbringing and childhood.  When you were found out to be Grisha, fearful of leaving home, she was the first at your side, comforting you, telling you stories of the Little Palace.  She’d written every week, telling you what was going on at home, her letters always bringing a smile to your face.  And when you’d married Aleksander, she was the first one to embrace you and your husband, welcoming him to the family.

The oprichniki outside the War Room let you enter without question, and you shouldered the heavy door open.  Inside, Aleksander wasn’t listening to a word his councilmen were saying, focus on the dust floating in the sunbeams.  But when you entered, tears streaking your face, he straightened in his seat, attention completely on you.  You hesitated in the doorway, brows knit together, sniffling softly.  Something was clearly wrong, something had upset you, and Aleksander held up his hand, silencing the councilmen.

“Everyone out,” he said, low voice conveying the urgency of the situation.  “But sir,” one councilman protested.  “We have yet to-”  “I said everyone out.”  Shadows pooled in the corners of the room, and everyone scattered, chairs scrapping and papers fluttering as the council hurried out.  “Shall I wait outside, moi sovernnyi?” Ivan asked, and your husband nodded.  When the heartrender had shut the door behind him, Aleksander pushed his chair back, rising to his feet.

“What’s the matter, darling?” he asked, striding towards you, concern on his face.  “What has happened, are you hurt?”  You met him halfway, nearly collapsing into his arms, sobs tearing free. “Y/N, what’s wrong?  You’re worrying me, lapushka.”  You handed him your mother’s letter, hands shaking, the parchment wrinkled.  Aleksander read it, understanding and sorrow washing over him.  “Oh Y/N, darling, I’m so sorry.  I’m so, so sorry, love.”

Something in Aleksander’s recognition of your grandmother’s death broke the feeble dam holding your emotions in check, and you shattered.  Your legs gave out as you wailed, cursing the Saints for taking your beloved babushka from you.  Aleksander caught you, lowering you to the ground, pulling you into his arms once he was sitting as well.  “I know, I know,” he said, holding you tight against his chest.  “Let it out, my love, I’ve got you.  Let it out.”  With your face pressed into your husband’s chest, you cried, your tears soaking the thick material of his kefta, your hands clutching his lapels.

Aleksander’s heart broke for you, knowing that you were hurting and there was nothing he could do.  No, he told himself.  You can be here for her.  Hold her, dry her tears, comfort her.  And he hoped that would be enough.  He sat on the hard floor of the War Room for 40 minutes, no care for his own comfort, rocking you gently side to side.  And after a while, you calmed a bit, sobs reduced to weak cries, though tears still fell.  “My love, do you want to move to the bedroom?  Make you more comfortable?”

Weakly, you nodded, and Aleksander arranged you into a bridal carry, rising from the floor with you in his arms.  You kept your face buried in his chest as Aleksander opened the door, shutting it with his hip behind him.  “I will be unavailable for the rest of today and all of tomorrow.”  Ivan nodded.  “And beyond that, sir?”  “We’ll see.”  Ivan bowed, turning on his heel, and Aleksander carried you back to your shared bedroom.

He shut the door softly behind him, moving to set you down gently on the plush bed.  Aleksander entered the en suite bathroom, emerging a few minutes later with a variety of items.  He held up one of your nightgowns, draping it on the mattress.  “Let’s get you changed, darling.”  You nodded, letting Aleksander remove your clothes and pull the nightgown over your head.  The fabric was cool against your skin, and you wiped tears from your face.  Aleksander sat next to you, a damp cloth in hand.

Your face was hot and blotchy, overheated from your crying.  But your husband ran the cloth over your face, cleaning dried tears and cooling your skin.  He then brushed and braided your hair, his touch an immense comfort to you.  “Can you drink some water, love?” he asked, pouring a tall glass.  “I don’t want you to dehydrate.”  Again, you nodded, taking the offered glass and bringing it to your lips.

While you drained the glass, Aleksander changed himself, swapping his kefta for a pair of black pajama pants, slipping back into bed at your side.  You curled back into his arms as soon as you’d set your glass down, making yourself as small as possible in his embrace, face buried in his chest, Aleksander’s arms wrapped firmly around your middle.  One hand stroked your back, the other carded through your hair, his lips pressed to your temple.

“I can’t believe she’s gone,” you said, the first words you’d spoken, voice hoarse from crying.  “I saw her only a month ago.”  Aleksander hummed, the rumbling of his voice in his chest soothing to you.  “I know, my beloved, I know.  She was an incredible woman.”  You nuzzled closer to Aleksander, clinging to him as if your life depended on it.  “She has returned to the making at the heart of the world, my love.  She is at peace.”

Aleksander held you for hours, listening to stories about your grandmother, wiping your tears away when they came, wishing he could take your pain and bear it for you.  He called for a dinner tray for you, which you picked at, but Aleksander didn’t push.  And when your eyes drooped, your husband laid back in bed, draping the room in shadow.  You snuggled sleepily into his chest, humming softly.  “I love you, my Y/N,” Aleksander whispered, kissing your forehead.  “I have you.  Sleep, my love.”  “I love you too,” you mumbled, sleep dragging you under.  Through your grief, Aleksander would be there for you, for every moment.

[yourwildsimp]

sweet confessions

includes: aizawa, y/n

warnings: mentions of nightmares

length: 1,986 words

summary: with neither of you able to sleep, trapped words are finally allowed to slip like melted butter.

Four in the morning was not the time to be up, especially on a work night. Well, a workday at this point. You should be in bed, surrounded by the fluffiest, warmest blankets on the softest mattress you could afford.

And yet? Here you were in the bathroom, washing your face with warm water, for what was the third time in a row. It was as if you were trying to slowly drown yourself. A yawn left your lips, strong enough to rock your body with violent yet satisfying shudders. You cursed your insomnia. You knew you were tired, so why couldn’t you fall asleep?

Something clattered in the kitchen, a hushed swear which broke the stillness of the shared apartment soon followed.

Was he up, too?

Your face heated up at the thought of your roommate. There had always been a spark between the two of you, but both of you dodged any confrontation. It was like fate danced you both around each other, curious to see who would take charge. Who would finally end this little game of cat and mouse? You didn’t think you had enough confidence to be the one to put a stop to the games you were playing and admit how hard you’ve fallen for him.

However, as life tugs you both along, curious things unfold.

You cracked open the bathroom door to peep out, holding your breath in case he was just outside. This was new to you, as Aizawa was typically asleep for as long as he could be. His record is 19 hours straight after a hard mission. Your record was nine hours, and you were damn proud of yourself for it, too.

You carefully stepped out after turning off the light, trying to creep back to your bedroom without getting caught. It’s not like you wanted to avoid Aizawa, you just didn’t want him to catch you up this late again. Though as soon as you took your first step out into the hallway, he spoke, the words making you freeze like a deer in headlights.

“What are you doing awake at this hour?” You swallowed around the lump in your throat as you stood straight.

“I thought you didn’t know I was up,” you said with a grin, but Aizawa could see how tired you were.

“I’m a pro-hero,” he hummed, a coffee mug warming his hands. “It’s almost insulting that you thought I didn’t notice you. Now, why are you up?”

“I could ask you the same thing, Mr. Pro-hero,” you retorted, earning a worn chuckle. The distant look in his eyes told you everything you needed to know to understand why he was awake as well.

Nightmares.

You knew all too well that Aizawa’s night terrors were a force to be reckoned with. On some nights he even woke up screaming or falling out of bed. Aizawa’s dreams were the only thing that could get such a strong reaction from him.

“Drinking coffee this late can’t be good for you,” you said, changing the subject rather quickly while you headed into the kitchen with your roommate. “Doesn’t a hero with your status need to stay healthy?”

“It’ll keep me up,” he murmured with a strange sort of solemnness infecting his tone.

You couldn’t stop the empathetic look from tainting your face even if you wanted to. You hated nothing more than watching as the hero business ate away at your best friend.

“Hey.” His voice took you from your thoughts. “We’re already up this late, and I doubt either of us will sleep soon, so. . .” Aizawa trailed off as you looked up at him. “So, come sit on the roof with me. Only for a bit.”

Your jaw nearly dropped to the floor before you caught yourself and nodded. You hoped that you didn’t look too head over heels for him, but little to your knowledge, Aizawa found your reaction cute.

“Sure, alright,” you said with a small smile, trying to sound nonchalant. You didn’t, but Aizawa didn’t comment on it, sparing your pride. “Ah, wait, let me grab a hoodie-”

“Don’t bother,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear him.

A smirk tainted your lips as you crossed your arms over your chest and accusingly leaned towards him.

“Oh, so you want me to freeze? That isn’t very heroic, mister.” The way you raised your eyebrows got him to spill a chuckle.

“I do not. You can just wear mine."

Leaving the conversation at that, he turned away before you ever saw the pink hue that dusted his face. It took you a second to let his words process before you were following after him like a lost puppy.

It's not a big deal. He's just being friendly and giving, as always. That's the lie you've always told yourself.

“How do we get up on the roof?" You asked as he led you on the small back porch.

Your small smile dropped entirely as he jumped and grabbed the edge of the roof, pulling himself up with practiced ease.

"All right, asshole, not everyone is a pro-hero, so-" You cut yourself off as soft cloth suddenly wrapped around you, acting as a safety harness.

He lifted you to the roof without breaking a sweat. And to be honest, that boosted your confidence by a few points.

"Such foul language doesn't belong in a pretty mouth like yours," Aizawa murmured, his calloused hands carefully pulling his scarf off of your shoulders. He left the cloth on your waist for you to take care of, as he didn't want to overstep any boundaries.

The scarf was the furthest thing from your mind as you hoped the dark sky hid your heavy blush.

He said I was… Pretty. Aizawa… called me pretty.

"You, um…" You tried to start a conversation to distract Aizawa from the fact you weren't removing his scarf. "You got up here stupidly fast. Do you do this often?"

He didn't comment on the matter of his scarf, silently using it to justify why he was sitting this close to you.

"I'm a stealth hero. I'm always jumping rooftop to rooftop," he reasoned, heavy eyes taking in the ever so familiar landscape.

"That's not what I asked," you prodded gently. "Do you come up here often, this late at night?"

You wanted him to trust you, to tell you what was obviously plaguing his thoughts or what had scared him sleepless this time. You were well aware trust wasn't given easily, especially for someone like him. Someone who's been hurt time and time again.

His jaw shifted, and you were too concerned about his mental health to think of how handsome he was with his sharp features.

"Sometimes. When the dreams aren't incredibly terrible," he muttered after a thick swallow.

You hummed to let him know that you understood, your body shifting a minuscule closer to his warmth. He noticed, and without a word pulled his hoodie over his head. You two were sitting so close that you needed to lean to the side to avoid getting elbowed.

"Hey, what are you-"

He smiled gently as he set the article in your lap, and the sight alone shut you up. He was gorgeous, basking in the never-sleeping city lights.

"Didn’t I tell you? You can wear my jacket if you're cold."

Be still your beating heart, because if it didn’t soon, you were sure he'd think someone was knocking at the door with how loud it was pounding against your ribs.

With a painfully flustered chuckle to fill the silence, you put it on. And, God, you'd be content dying surrounded by his scent of heavy rain and the forest. A small thank you filtered off your tongue. Using the visual excuse of adjusting how it pooled at your hips, you shifted ever closer.

"You know-"

"Sometimes-"

You had both gone to speak at the same time, earning a soft giggle from you and a deep chuckle from him.

"You go first," you offered with a gentle smile.

"Only if you go after, no matter what," he playfully demanded.

As you agreed, you watched his eyes lingered on you, something indescribable dancing behind the walls of charcoal. With a deep breath, he faced the horizon.

"Sometimes when I drive, I'll turn on the radio. Just to have some background noise. I don't pay attention to it, though, because most of the music is shit," Aizawa started, something in his chest swelling as you chuckled at him. "But then, when I was sitting in the UA teacher's parking lot, something hit me as I listened to a sappy song."

"What? That you're getting old?" You teased, trying to break some of the tension in his shoulders.

"I realized that all of a sudden, every love song was about you."

Your soft gasp sounded like a nuclear bomb to him and he screwed his eyes shut. He knew he should've stayed in bed.

"I..." Aizawa moved to stand. "I should go back to sleep," he finished rather quickly.

Your nibble fingers gripped his pants leg and he froze entirely, like a child who’d been caught eating candy past midnight.

"Hey… What happened to our little deal?" Your caring tone caused him to hesitate. "Please, Shouta, won't you hear what I have to say?"

Shouta. How pretty it sounded rolling off your tongue.

He swayed in the morning breeze, the very beginning of a sunrise highlighting his dark features. And then he sat, avoiding looking at you at all costs.

"As I was going to say before I was thankfully interrupted," you began, adjusting the sleeves of your (his) jacket. You took a deep breath, hyping yourself up to finally fess up as he did. "You know when you look at a kitten, you think of Shinsou? Or when you see candy apples, you think of Eri?" You asked, earning a stiff nod.

"Everything has started reminding me of you. From sleep bags to your favorite dark chocolates, and baggy clothes like the ones you rarely allow me to borrow, or a coffee mug you'd like. You're always running through my mind," you took a breath, needing to get some air after your fast-paced rant.

You both sat in heavy silence, the dew in the grass glinting from the rays of marigold that poured over the horizon.

"Can I do something stupid?" He asked quietly, shifting in his spot.

" 'Course. It's about time we swapped roles," you humored.

Smokey-colored eyes bored into yours as he faced you, Adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. You'd never seen him so… beautifully revealing.

Suddenly you were surrounded by warmth, Aizawa no longer looking at you. He hugged you so desperately, it was as if he thought you'd leave him. He scruff tickled your neck as he nuzzled into you, but you couldn't care less.

The way you didn't need to think twice about returning the hug made him smile against your skin. You both sat there on the roof, basking in rays of fresh morning sunlight, never letting go of each other.

"It was about losing you," Aizawa breathed, breaking the blissful silence. "My nightmare… In it, I had lost you forever."

You closed your eyes, one hand tenderly massaging his scalp with the other held him closer to you. "I'm right here, Shouta. I'm not going anywhere," you reassured, feeling his breathing pattern calm. "You know that, don't you?"

"Yeah…" He whispered, voice heavy with sleep and concern.

"Let's get back to bed, okay?" You murmured, feeling the weight of your feelings change from suffocating to soaring.

"Not yet. Please… I just wanna stay with you." Aizawa pulled you impossibly closer and you smiled.

"Whatever you wish, but don't blame me when you're sore tomorrow." You felt him chuckle as his eyes drooped shut.

" 'm always sore anyways."

[stanknotstark]

Curse Her (No Really)

So that’s the look i imagine is on Loki’s face when he’s like “Can’t know what?” Anyways I had this idea yesterday after thinking about how I grew into an allergy to acrylic. It started off as an idea to grow into an allergy to gold but then i was like NO what if Amora cursed you instead and just ran with it lol Also Uno is totally the Monopoly of card games, I play it with my friends online and there is constant back stabbing and yelling 😂

P.S. I nearly said pus-y but spelled it as pu$$y and just barely caught it holy cow that could have been bad 🤣

Summary: Amora curses you so you can’t wear gold anymore, the metal being Loki’s favorite type of jewelry to gift you and see you wear with pride. You don’t want to tell him because you’re strong and independent and can figure this out without him, right?

In hindsight you should have seen this coming, honestly. 

You sit in the lab with Tony, you on his table, your legs dangling, and Tony in his seat looking over the holoscreen in front of him with a frown. Bruce is out of town being the humanitarian he is so Tony is left with the job of running scans on those who are affected in battle. You’re just lucky Loki joined the team and helped Tony and Bruce make machines that can scan magic. 

“She cast a spell so you can’t wear gold anymore?” Tony says, his frown deepening. “That’s...a stupid curse.” Tony says looking a bit bewildered.

You let out a bitter chuckle. “She’s jealous that Loki is with me and knows that he loves to gift his sweethearts gold jewelry,” You tell the genius with a roll of your eyes. You look at the ground and sigh. “I suppose I should keep this a secret because if Loki finds out he’ll hunt down Amora and attack her. The last thing I want is Amora teasing me for not being able to fight my own fights.” 

“That is a horrible idea,” Tony pips up looking at you sympathetically. “However, as the resident, number one placeholder of bad ideas, I say do exactly that if you’re really that turned off by some teasing.” Tony says, half heartedly trying to convince you to not follow through with this plan but knowing he failed by the pinched look on your face. 

It only takes two days. Two. For Loki to realize you’re not wearing his jewelry. 

You’re lucky he realizes while in the middle of a team bonding activity, card games. 

“Darling, where’s your necklace?” Loki asks lightly as he watches Steve put down a reverse card so instead of being Clint’s turn it’s Tony’s. Clint responds by calling Steve a buttface causing Steve to laugh out of shock.

Your eyes flick over to Tony’s, whose eyes meet yours for a second before you’re both looking at the cards on the floor again. You don’t notice it but Loki definitely noticed the look you both shared but chooses to ignore it.

“I’m letting it soak, it needed to be cleaned and polished.” You easily slip the lie out of your lips. When you look at Loki you’re lucky he isn’t looking at you at first because he can usually read your lies. As he skims his eyes back over to you you let a soft smile slide over your lips to which the god answers with a tilt of his lips. 

When he looks away you swallow, Tony catching your eyes and raising his eyebrows. 

Tell him. Tony’s eyes flash.

Not right now! You push back through your eyes and a small shake of your head.

Tony rolls his eyes and that’s the end of that silent conversation. 

The subject isn’t brought up again until the fourth day. 

You know Loki has definitely caught on to the fact that you stay in Tony’s lab a lot recently but you’re thankful he doesn’t ask questions about it.

“Where are your rings?” Loki outright asks, grabbing your hand and rubbing over your fingers with his thumb, his face in a slight frown as he looks at your bare hands. He notes that you wear silver bangles instead of your usual gold.

You both are getting ready for a press release about Amora’s attack and usually you love to flash your jewelry to the public, as if yelling from the roof tops that Loki is yours when you’re adorned in his colors and gifts. 

“I, uh, lost them,” You mutter out, playing it up and acting ashamed with your flushed cheeks and pulling your hand from Loki’s to hug yourself. “I’m sorry, I’ll find them though.” You bite your lip looking at Loki’s face. The god smiles tenderly and brings his hand up to caress at your jaw. 

“It is fine. I will help you look for them when we have the time.” Loki tells you, his hand falling from your face to grab your hand and lead you from the room. 

You totally miss the disappointed frown that passes over Loki’s face as you pass the dresser in the room and he sees the rings laying there. 

By the sixth day Loki hasn’t said anything else about your missing jewelry. However, yesterday, a day after the press release, Loki had left your rings on your night stand without another word about them.

You can tell Loki is pulling from you, putting up walls that you had worked so hard to demolish. He seems more standoffish and irritated now if his scathing remarks to the team are a tell. You really should just tell him what’s going on but you’re stubborn. 

Today, you sit with Tony in the lab hoping he’ll find a way to make this stupid curse just disappear. While you could wear the gold it would leave you with a noticeable rash within a few hours and if worn long enough pockets of pus appear. If Loki noticed that he would start asking questions you can’t, or rather don’t want to, answer

“I think we need to tell him, I’m honestly lost,” Tony says swiveling in his chair to look at you. “Magic isn’t my forte, it’s Loki’s.” He explains as if you don’t know that. 

“Tony, Amora will never let me live this down. She will always belittle me for being weak and having to ask for help to figure this out.”

“Technically you’ve already asked for help...” Tony points out hesitantly. 

“This is different. She will call me dependent on Loki, like I wasn’t a threat before he came along and I’m his little damsel in distress,” You say letting out a frustrated growl and covering your face with your hands. “I don’t know how to explain what I mean, ok, I just can’t tell Loki.” 

“Uh...” Is all Tony says as you failed to notice someone else came into the lab. 

“Look, I love Loki but he can’t know.” You say with finality, letting your hands drop.

“Loki can’t know what, exactly?” Loki asks in a smooth but dangerously low tone.

You gasp, jumping a little in your spot on Tony’s work table. Your eyes are wide as saucers and you’re sure you can feel the blood from your face leave. 

Loki stands a few feet away with his arms crossed and a pissed look on his face. 

The room is incredibly silent, the tension able to be cut with a dull butter knife. You’re lucky Tony comes to save you. 

Tony sighs, brings a hand up to rub through his hair and looks at Loki with a grimace as if dreading to tell Loki a, false, secret.

Wow he was a great actor, shouldn’t be surprising considering he grew up under the paparazzi’s thumb but to see it in action? It’s shocking.

“She wants me to build her some armor. Says she feels inadequate next to all of us since she doesn’t have powers or anything cool other than pistols.” Tony, falsely, admits. 

Loki frowns at Tony before his eyes slide over to you looking to see if Tony speaks the truth. You quickly make yourself believe Tony’s lie, putting on your brave face as you look at the God of Lies in the eyes. 

You know you’ve succeeded because Loki drops his arms and walks over to you. Tony moves away to tinker with something else in his lab, giving you both space, and quickly flicking the holoscreen he had been looking at away before Loki gets a close look at it and it reveals your secret. 

Loki spreads your knees so he may stand between your legs and brings a hand up to grip your chin and make you look up at him. 

“You will never be inadequate. You deserve a spot on this team, powers or not. You are a formidable warrior and I’m honored to be able to fight by your side,” Loki tells you, his voice strong and confident, his eyes filled with love. “Why would you hide this from me?” He then whispers, his eyebrows stitched together in a hurt look.

You swallow the lump in your throat and consider telling Loki the truth as you look into his eyes and see how much he truly loves you. How much it hurts him to know you’ve been lying to his face.

“I-” 

Suddenly the tower’s klaxons are roaring to life and causing the moment to be broken. You, Loki, and Tony stand at attention. 

“Sir, Amora has breeched your defenses, she is fighting Mr. Rogers and Odinson on floor 84. I believe they have it handled though.” Jarvis supplies you all. 

You and Loki quickly make your way to the floor, Tony lagging behind to put on his suit. 

When you get there Steve and Thor have Amora bound with magic resistant cuffs as she kneels on the ground between them. When she sees you her eyes light up at the fact you are without any jewelry and gives a dark laugh. 

“You haven’t rid yourself of my curse? I figured Loki would break it within 24 hours. You’re losing your touch aren’t you, mage?” Amora says looking over to Loki with a perfectly coiffed eyebrow raised in question. 

Loki looks over to you with confusion on his face and you sigh. Of course the bitch had to ruin everything you’ve been avoiding. 

“Oh,” Amora says, her face slack with shock. Then it splits into an evil grin. “He doesn’t know?”

You glance at Loki who is looking between the two of you with avid interest. Steve and Thor look confused as well. Tony’s suit clanks over to Amora and slaps a magic resistant gag over her mouth, giving you a look that tells you you need to tell Loki everything, now.

Steve, Thor and Tony leave with Amora leaving you in the silent room with a very confused Loki.

“What does she speak of?” Loki finally asks when you refuse to give him anything as you stand there looking at the ground like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. “You’re cursed?” Loki asks, concern laced in his words causing you to feel worse.

You let a tear drop from your eye, blowing out a deep breath and looking at Loki. 

“She cursed me so I can’t wear gold without getting a bad rash and pus pockets.” You let the words tumble out of your lips, a small hiccup coming out of your mouth at the end of the sentence. 

Loki frowns at you, obviously wanting to comfort you but doesn’t reach for you yet. “That is why you haven’t been wearing my jewelry?” Loki asks for confirmation. 

You nod, bringing a hand up to wipe at your tears. 

You don’t expect it but Loki quickly envelops you into his arms in a crushing hug. One hand holding your head to his chest, the other rubbing over your back. His body relaxing into yours as if relieved.

“You’re not mad?” You ask the god shakily, your words hitting his chest as puffs of air from your mouth. You bring your arms up and hug Loki back.

“Darling, I thought you had grown tired of me, that you were slipping from my grasps, that you were going to ask to split any day now.” Loki says into your hair where he litters kisses. “I thought you had fallen for Tony.” Loki explains his own voice wavering a bit at the confession.

“What,” You say shocked, your arms squeezing Loki tighter at the realization of the hurt you put Loki through this past week, “No, never, Tony is my friend. I just didn’t want to have to be saved by you all the time. I don’t want to be your damsel in distress. I want us both to be dependent but also independent, that’s all.” You explain into Loki’s chest, your body now shaking with the emotions that overwhelm you. 

Loki lets out a relieved laugh, pulling away just enough so he may look down at you. “You will never be a damsel in distress, with need of my help or not. I told you, you are formidable on your own, a warrior with a brave spirit.” 

Suddenly you feel really stupid. Amora had gotten inside your head and screwed everything up. Loki was right, as he usually is. 

You let out a shaky laugh. “Can you please break this curse so I can wear your jewelry again? I miss it, a lot.” You ask of Loki who only smiles at you fondly and nods. 

“Of course, darling.” 

[the-witty-pen-name]

Deadbeat Pt. 6

Lee Bodecker x F!Reader

18+ ONLY

Warnings: age gap (reader is 21), fluff, angst, smut, dirty talk, semi-public sex, cursing, abandonment, toxic parent, violence, toxic siblings, infatuation, cheating/divorce, insecurity, mild housewife kink, mentions of prostitution, mentions of alcohol, corrupt official, fake relationship, jealousy 

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: You work at the bar at the edge of town, the Sheriff is going through a divorce and needs to rent a room.

A/N: I’m terrible at writing summaries and I’m so sorry about that! I don’t think I would consider this a dark!fic, but it does cover a lot of themes, and topics that are darker than I usually write about- but I think that comes with the territory of writing about Lee Bodecker. I’ll make sure to update the warnings for each chapter and do not read if you are underage. I also ignored canon for this one.

Thank you all so much for reading and sharing my work. Everyone whose reached out and told me how much they love the story really makes my day, oh my gosh!! I love you all so much, I’m so thankful. 

This is unedited, and I missed anything I should include as a warning let me know! I hope you all enjoy! 

Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four // Part Five

Tags and Requests are OPEN

send me an ask or message to be added to the taglist! I think I got everybody who has asked to be added, but to make sure it doesn’t get lost, sending me a message or an ask will make it easier to keep track! Thank you!!! The support has been overwhelming for my first fic I’m so happy you all are enjoying it!

He turns onto your street and as you get closer to your house, there’s a car out front you don’t recognize.

“You expecting somebody?” Arvin asks.

“Nope,” you say seeing a figure sitting on the front porch swing- unable to make out who it is.

Pulling up to the house the figure is a man, but you still can’t distinguish any features as Arvin continues to drive down the dirt road. You’re incredibly nervous and your mind is racing wondering who it would be. You were scared.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Arvin says, noticing as you fidget in your seat. He takes your hand to comfort you, now driving with one hand on the wheel. He parks his truck at the side of the house. It’s Henry Curtis- that damned reporter. Shit, you think to yourself, he doesn’t know that you lied to him at the bar.

“Who is that?” Arvin asks, staring daggers at the man as he flips a page in the newspaper he was reading while he waits on the front porch. You hide your face behind Arvin, leaning back so Mr. Curtis can’t see who is in the passenger seat.

“He’s this reporter that’s been trying to write a story about my mom,” you explain quickly, “He came into the bar the night before trying to talk to me but I lied and said I wasn’t me. He must have gotten the address somehow- he knows the Sheriff lives here… Maybe he’s trying to dig up something.”

“Is there something-?”

“No! Of course not,” you lie, and it makes you feel terrible. It makes you feel so guilty lying to Arvin but you weren’t ready to tell him anything. “Like everyone else in this town, he’s probably heard all the rumors and things people are saying about me and he’s gonna try to use that.”

“What should we do? It’s not like he’s seeing you with Sheriff Bodecker… you’re with me.”

“Wait- Arvin, that’s it,” you say in a hushed voiced. You peer over his shoulder to see if the reporter was getting suspicious.

“What’s it?” he asks with an eyebrow raised.

“Pretend to be my boyfriend?” You ask hurriedly. “If he thinks I’m single he’s gonna keep hounding me. But if I’m in a relationship, he’s got no reason to keep pursuing the dead-end story and maybe he’ll leave me alone.”

Arvin looks at you, and sighs heavily as he thinks about it. He knows it’s pointless because he knows he’s never going to be able to say no to you. Besides, it’s just a one-time rouse, just so this guy doesn’t bother you again. Arvin feels obligated to say yes, hoping this somehow could make his actions in the past up to you.

“Okay,” he says, forcing a small smile. “I’ll follow your lead.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” you exclaim, giving him a brief hug.

He gets out of the car first, tipping his baseball cap to the man on the porch, before coming around and helping you out of the truck. He keeps his arm around your waist, and holds you close to his side as he walked. Christ, he’s missed this.

“Afternoon,” Curtis greets, putting down his newspaper, and leaving it on the swing. “Henry Curtis. I’m a reporter for the Columbus Dispatch.” He comes down the front steps, as Arvin grabs your groceries from the back of the truck. He walks over to the car and extends his hand to both of you, matching his introduction with a firm handshake. He tilts his head, looking at you, immediately recognizing you from the bar. You’re quick on your feet, and good at putting on an act. You spoke quickly before he got the chance to accuse anything.

“I remember you Mr. Curtis,” you say with a smile. You come off as a little shy. “I wasn’t very truthful to you when we first met and I’m sorry about that,” you say. “But I was scared when you came in asking for me,” you explain, “Strange man comes in, asking for me by name without introducing himself first. Would scare any gal, I hope you understand.”

Arvin holds back a laugh at how thick you are laying it on. You were putting on a Southern belle persona, and it wasn’t like you at all. He admired how quick you were on your feet. It amazed him actually how smoothly you were able to pull it off. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” you say, introducing yourself properly. “This is my boyfriend Arvin Russell.” His heart tugs a little, but he ignores it the best he can.

“I suppose I understand,” Curtis says, looking the two of you over. “I think that I came on a little too strong when I first introduced myself. I apologize. It’s nice to meet you both.”

“Good to know ya, Mr. Curtis,” Arvin nods, bringing your groceries up to your front porch as Mr. Curtis asks you more questions.

“I hate to intrude,” Curtis begins and you hold back a scoff, “But I had been told by some people you too had called it quits before the Sheriff moved in- a Ms. Perry, I think. When I was just asking around for a way to get in touch, her and another woman told me more than I was asking.”

“Oh of course, Mr. Curtis,” you chuckle. “They would have been right, but we’ve gotten back together since then. You’re in on the news before Ms. Perry it sounds like.”

“Ah, we’ll I’m happy to hear you both are happy,” he clears his throat. He wasn’t anticipating this and this new information has thrown off his hunch about the situation.

“That’s mighty kind of you,” you smile, resting your arm on Arvin’s shoulder when he returns to your side.

“How long has it been?” he asks curiously. You look up at Arvin, biting your lip playing dumb trying to remember.

“About two weeks, I think,” you finalize, “Maybe three. I mean we’d been together since we both got out of high school so it’s more like we’ve done been together for four years.”

“And you both don’t mind the living situation, not to pry in something that isn’t my business, but an unmarried woman renting out a room to a man is very peculiar,” he insinuates, and Arvin wraps his arm around your waist.

“I have no reason to not trust her,” Arvin says, coming to your defense, and you genuinely smile, even though you know it’s not true. It hurts, but you know it’s just for now. Keeping your relationship with Lee a secret was your idea after all, and you thought keeping it a secret would be easier. But now you’re here lying to one of the only people in town you care about.

“I’d be more worried about the Sheriff,” Curtis counters with a laugh. “Well, I came here to talk to Ms. (Y/L/N) about her mother.”

“I didn’t lie to you when I said I didn’t know anything,” you interject. “Honest, I don’t. I wish I knew more. I’m worried sick thinking about my brother and if he’s okay- but I haven’t heard about either of them. They haven’t reached out since they moved out.”

“I believe you,” he said sympathetically, “Sheriff Bodecker let me read the statement you gave at the station. And I’m sorry you are going through this.”

“I don’t know how’d I’d make it through without Arvin,” you say, looking up at him. He leans down and kisses your temple quickly.

“I should be going, I suppose,” he says, “I’ll be in town for a little while longer, so I hope to see you too around. Please, call me if you hear something.” The man hands you both a business card, and then goes to his car, and pulling away, not even bothering to grab the newspaper he left on the front porch.

“What a sleaze,” you shudder, moving away from Arvin’s embrace.

“He seemed nice enough,” Arvin shrugs, “But I guess that’s an act he puts on.”

“He’s trouble, Arvin,” you insist. He nods, trusting you. You both stand awkwardly for a few moments. You were wishing you could tell him and come clean. It felt horrible keeping this secret from him, he didn’t deserve to be a pawn covering up this scheme of yours without knowing. You would tell him, you decided you would, but you needed to wait for the right time.

“I really appreciate you helping me,” you say, cutting across the silence.

“Of course,” he says, putting his hands in his pockets. “I guess I should get going. I need to pick up Lenora at the cemetery.”

“Okay,” you nod, “See you later?”

“I’m always here,” he chuckles. You turn around and bring your bags inside as Arvin drives away. The whole interaction with Curtis made you incredibly uncomfortable, and you just wanted nothing more than to just see Lee.

You put the groceries away quickly, and then needed to change out these clothes. You headed up to your bedroom, and changed into a more comfortable outfit. You felt a little gross, like there was a layer of something on your skin, even though you were fine. It was like the residue of the lie you told Arvin was still crawling on your skin. You kept reminding yourself that it was only temporary.

“It’s okay to be selfish sometimes, sweetheart,” Lee said, pulling you in close later that night as you were telling him about how you felt towards lying to Arvin. He appreciated how honest you were, and he often wished he was more like you.

However, he also couldn’t help the jealousy that was bubbling up inside him. Thinking about Arvin touching you, even if you had been his first- the visual made his jaw lock. It wasn’t that it was just Arvin- any man touching you would send him into a jealous frenzy. He wasn’t worried about you. He really truly trusted you, but he didn’t for a second trust the Russell boy when it came to you.

You rested your head on his shoulder and rested your palm on his chest as he pulled the blanket up for the two of you. He laid on his back, you cuddled up close to his side. He had one arm wrapped securely around you and the other rested bent behind his head.

“I just hate keeping secrets,” you mumble and it makes him sigh. He now combatted with his own guilt. He was torn between telling you about his involvements around town, like Leroy Brown, or telling you about how he’s been covering for his sister. He wants out, and he just wants to protect you. His main concern about keeping that part of his life under wraps isn’t even about reelection anymore, it’s about keeping you safe. Brown couldn’t know about you; it would put you in danger. He just needed time to get out of the whole mess and then he’d confess everything to you, even if the fear of losing you stayed at the forefront of his mind.

“It’s not forever, sweetheart,” he whispers, rubbing circles on your back comfortingly. “We won’t have to keep ourselves locked away in this house forever,” he chuckles, “even though I love it.” His words make you blush and you swat his chest playfully. “What? I do,” he grins, “I love just being home with you. It’s like the rest of the world don’t even exist when it’s just you and me.”

“When that reporter leaves, everything will get better,” you affirm. “I thought keeping us a secret would be easier,” you admit, drawing aimless shapes over his white t-shirt.

“I can’t wait to show you off,” he mumbles, nuzzling closer to you. “Just show the whole world you’re my girl.”

“You did get pretty lucky,” you chuckle, closing your eyes.

“I know I did,” he hums in agreement, pulling you into his chest.

You got the call the next day letting you know you got the job. You quit your bartending job immediately, you’re so excited that you forget all about the stress you were battling with the previous night. You felt like you were walking on air. Things were looking up for the most part. You had secured a stable job, you were going to start making more money, you had Lee- you felt good. It was definitely a calm before the storm.

You’re worries for now floated to the back of your mind and you allowed yourself to just be happy for yourself. You got something, and it was all your own. You worked hard and you did this. You’d start this next phase of your life Monday morning and you couldn’t wait. You wanted to just speed through the weekend. Well, speed through the rest of Thursday, Friday, Saturday- enjoy your date with Lee, and then speed through Sunday.

You had butterflies. You felt silly that the idea of going on a date with Lee made you feel this way but you were really excited. It made you feel like this relationship was normal, and much more doable than you were thinking it would be. The age gap, living together, so many things made you worry constantly about other people and their opinions. Being stuck in that small town really would affect your confidence and self-esteem. You’re strong, and most of the time things that petty don’t affect you, but the consistency of it all is draining.

Now you both are sitting in the front of Lee’s car, not the cruiser- his ’55 Dodge he hardly drove. He kept his car, but because he was always working, it mostly sat in your garage. He’d offer you the keys, leaving them hanging up in the kitchen for you to take whenever you wanted, but something about the town seeing you driving his car was daunting. You knew people would talk regardless of what you did, but you didn’t like to add fuel to the flame when you could avoid it.

Sitting in the bench seat, with your eyes glued to the movie that played on the screen, you kept stealing glances at Lee. He looked nice out of uniform- much more relaxed and like he wasn’t hiding behind some front he felt he needed to live up to the badge. His leather jacket was secured around your shoulders, and you decide to slid over to him. Your actions snap him out of his thoughts and he smirks, pulling his arm around you and pulling you in close to his side.

It was a dark night, you couldn’t see in to the cars surrounding you, even though you were parked towards the back of the lot of cars anyways. The window was rolled down just enough to have the speaker clipped in place, and the breeze was a little chilly. He pressed his lips to the top of your head, giving you a quick kiss while you got comfortable and then you both turned back to the movie.

Lee couldn’t focus on the movie in front of him if he wanted to. It was just like how he felt like that night awhile back when you’d fallen asleep on the couch together. This time though, he shouldn’t be nervous. You were there and his girl. But now he felt nervous like he was a teenager again or something- and you’re there wrapped up in his arms, and the smell of your shampoo is amazing, and he’s just so wrapped up in thoughts of you, he couldn’t even tell you the name of the movie playing, or who was in it, or what it was even about. Then, you rested your hand on his leg and he thought he was going to combust.

“Lee,” you whisper in his ear and he feels a shiver run down his whole spine, “Are you paying attention?”

“Y-yeah,” he says, sitting up a little straighter and you scoff.

“What’s the movie called?” you ask with a smirk, rubbing his leg gently. He fumbles over his words trying to stall.

“I don’t know,” he sighs, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Me neither,” you giggle, and he let’s out a long breath of relief. You lean up to whisper in his ear, your hand rubbing over the bulge in his pants. “I can’t think about anything but moving to the backseat,” you whisper. He groans as a response and then pulls you into a kiss, tangling his hand in your hair. You teasingly bit his lip, pulling away from the kiss. He pouts at the separation as you quickly kick off your shoes and then climb over the bench seat to the back, accidentally (or maybe on purpose) giving him a view of your panties that you wore under your skirt.

“You’re killing me, doll,” he moans, quickly following your lead, smacking your ass playfully. You yelp in response and laugh as he climbs over the bench seat and crawls on top of you.

He scoops you up in his arms so he can seat stretched out on the backseat and you maneuver so you’re straddling his waist, your miniskirt riding up around your waist. His tongue tangles with yours and his hands grab at the flesh of your upper thighs. Your hands move down his chest to his torso to his belt, fumbling to undo the buckle and then his fly.

“Fuck,” he moans, when he pulls away from the kiss and his hands move to rub your back under your top. You move to pulls his jacket off of you and he holds your wrists gently to stop you. “Keep it on, sugar,” he murmurs, and then dips down to kiss and bit at your neck. You moan as he kisses from your neck downward as he partially unbuttons your shirt, opening it just enough to reveal your bra.

As your hands run through his hair, he pulls back from your skin to kiss your lips frantically again. His hand travels down and pushes his pants and boxers down enough to free his cock, and he swiftly moves your panties to the side. “Please, Lee,” you whine impatiently, and he smirks, feeling your arousal.

“You’re so wet, baby girl,” he chuckles, teasing your entrance and you moan. He loves ever reaction you give him.

“You want me to ride you Sheriff?” you ask lowly batting your lashes. He rests his head back and he has a firm grip on your hips.

“Please, honey,” he says, almost in a whimper. It felt good, it felt really good seeing him under you like this. You smile, leaning down and kissing his neck as you slide yourself onto his length. You take a sharp intake of breath, adjusting as it stretches you and Lee moans. You’re thankful the windows are fogged, and the movie is still playing, but there was something thrilling about this nonetheless. No one would see you if they looked over anyways, and no one would be paying attention to your car.

“You’re so big,” you praise as you begin to move yourself up and down. Lee peppers kisses on exposed part of your breast and moves his hands down to squeeze your ass as you ride him.

“Fuck you’re so perfect, sweetheart, you feel so good,” he moans, his hands helping to move you up and down on him.

His praises just encourage you to quicken your pace and he still helps guide you. Not breaking your rhythm together, he moves one hand to pull out his wallet from his pocket while the other moves to rest on the small of your back as you continue to bounce on him.

“One second, sweetheart,” he mumbles against your lips. “Lay down on the seat for me.”

You nod and follow his instructions. You watch as he pulls a condom from his wallet, quickly unwrapping it and slipping it on. Once he secures it, he bends down connecting his lips with yours again.

“You’re stunning,” he praises, taking off your panties. He takes a minute to just take in how you look- your hair sprawled out as you rest your back on the seat, your chest rising and falling breathing heavy with anticipation, your neck covered in marks he’s left behind and your skirt pushed up around your waist, and you’re wearing his jacket. “Goddamn perfect,” he declares, kissing you one more time before guiding himself into you.

His thrusts are a little sloppy, this new position makes the limited space much more obvious, but it doesn’t matter. You both are close and pressed up against each other, and both of you know you’re close. He can feel as you tighten around him and you can feel every time, he’s hitting the spots inside you perfectly.

“Lee, I’m so close,” you moan, your arms wrapping around his neck, and he moves faster, this time the car rocks a little, making you laugh.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, sugar,” he grunts, “so perfect.”

You throw your head back as you feel your release, and at the sensation he shortly follows.

“Fuck, Lee,” you moan, feeling your orgasm rip through you.

“Fuck, I love you, sugar,” he groans, as he rides out his orgasm. He pulls out, resting his forehead on yours, panting heavily.

“You what?” You ask breathless, your eyes widening at the confession.

PART SEVEN

Taglist:

@scar-is-bi @jiminlife2k18 @asylummaniac01​ @rosalynshields​ @charmed-asylum @jamesbuchananbuckybarnes1917 @alexandrathegreat3 @hersilencedscreams @malar-region @purplerain85 @vesper852 @smilewolfdolan @softshell-taco @champagnebucky 

[bubblesuga]

Sleep

“the world is brighter than the sun now that you’re here...” 

Summary: Yoongi has never felt more relaxed than he has while in your arms

W/C: 2,047

Genre: Fluff

Tags: brief mention of ass

A/N: Apparently I’m not done with this soft shit yet. Soft Yoongi kills me.

Yoongi’s feet carry him into the only room he knows will be empty. 

It was moving day and Yoongi was completely unprepared. Sure, he knew that he was basically going to be rebuilding his set up from the bottom to the top, he just didn’t realize that would also include constantly helping Hoseok and Namjoon with theirs as well. Yoongi prides himself on being quite knowledgeable about musical tech but sometimes it’s overwhelming.

He walks quickly, dodging people and ignoring the calls of his name because he knows he’ll get wrapped into helping someone else with some nonsensical tech ‘problem’, taking up even more time and raising his anxiety beyond what he can manage on his own. 

Sticking his master key into the door, he realizes it’s already unlocked. He grits his teeth for a moment and tries to think of another place where he could possibly get some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for him, he hears Jimin calling Yoongi’s name and it’s either entering this room or getting dragged away from his rest. 

The door slowly creaks open and he peeks inside, seeing that it’s dimly lit and quiet. What’s supposed to be a vocal practice room has yet to become so, the shell of a computer laying on the floor and a very tired intern sleeping beside it. 

Yoongi instantly smiles. 

You began working at the company a little less than 3 months ago, and you were learning fast. What would normally take people years to learn, you were consuming in weeks and Yoongi was impressed. You had signed on in an attempt to learn more about producing, which lead you to work with pdogg and Yoongi relatively closely. As a result, Yoongi’s first instinct isn’t to wake you up and tell you off for sleeping on the job. Instead, he lays beside you, mirroring your body. 

Your eyebrows are scrunched and a frown overtakes your lips, showing that you have been just as stressed as Yoongi. He reaches his hand forward to run his thumb along the crease in your brow but stops himself, his hand pulling back quickly. 

It’s definitely not the first time he’s thought about pressing a kiss to your forehead in an attempt to ease your mind. As you were helping pack away the recording equipment near the studio, Yoongi could see the way you blew air out of your mouth and attempted to wipe away your stress with the back of your hand. Then, Yoongi wanted to wrap his arms around you and reassure you that you were doing everything right. 

You stir and Yoongi scoots a little further away, the pout on your lip softening but the crease in your brow just as strong. 

Yoongi has always found you incredibly beautiful, but it baffles him that even in your sleep you somehow manage to look ethereal. 

He debates on waking you, hearing constant footsteps outside the door that caused him to worry that you’ll be caught sleeping-- or that he’ll be caught watching you. 

A sigh leaves his lips and he reaches over, resting a hand on your shoulder and squeezing softly, “____, it’s time to wake up.” 

You stir again, this time opening your eyes briefly. You gasp, jumping at the sight of Yoongi. He chuckles, “Be lucky I was the one who caught you and not someone else.” 

You blink, your heart thudding in your chest loud enough for Yoongi to hear. For a moment he thinks it’s because you’ve seen him, but he remembers that he scared you awake. 

“What are you doing in my nap spot?” You question, a whiny tone to your voice that makes Yoongi’s heart flutter. 

“Arguably, you’re in my nap spot.” Yoongi bites back, trying to hide the way his cheeks turn red when you mirror him again. 

You giggle, “It’s both of our nap spot.” 

“Ah, does that mean you’re going back to sleep?” 

“No,” you shake your head, wiping away the sleep from your eyes, “I have to finish setting up the computer and making sure everything runs correctly.” 

Yoongi sits up, tugging the computer tower to him and plugging in all the wires to the correct input. You open your mouth to protest but Yoongi sends a glance your way and continues setting up. Funnily enough, he doesn’t mind helping you. Rather, he sometimes wonders if that’s what he was searching for in the first place. Maybe it wasn’t peace and quiet he wanted, maybe it was just your presence. 

“Y’know, you can’t keep doing my job for me. I’m going to have to learn some time,” you say after a few moments of watching Yoongi work, “how else am I going to become a badass producer like you?” 

Yoongi smiles shyly at the compliment, reaching backward and scratching behind his ear, a nervous habit he wishes he could get rid of. “I like helping you.” is the only thing he can bring himself to say. 

“Well, you can only help me so much, Mr. Min.” you point a finger in his direction, and Yoongi rolls his eyes as he continues to work. 

He stands up and turns on the tower and the monitor, allowing the computer to boot up and sitting back down beside you. He sits much closer to you than before, and takes notice in the way you don’t make an attempt to move. 

“All done.” he whispers softly, clearing his throat in the process. 

You nod, “Of course I fell asleep just before the easiest part.” 

“Eh, it’s okay,” before Yoongi realizes what he’s doing, he wraps an arm around your shoulder, “you needed the rest. It’s been a long day.” 

Again, you don’t move away from him. Instead, you rest your head on his shoulder and cuddle up closer to him. Something about the atmosphere of the small room makes Yoongi feel bold, and his hand rubs up and down your shoulder. Despite not knowing you for long, you’re the person who he finds the easiest to talk to. 

“It’s been a long day for you as well.” 

“Mhm, which is why I came to nap but you were already in here.” He teasingly reaches forward and pinches your nose, which causes you to push his hand away and clasp it in yours to prevent him from doing it again. Yoongi instantly prays you don’t notice the way his hand shakes in yours, but he realizes you do with the way your thumb moves to stroke his. 

“I’m not stopping you from napping,” she replies, “you can nap all you want.” 

In an oddly bold move, Yoongi grins, “Can I use you as a pillow?” 

You glance up at him, eyebrow raised, “What part of me?” 

Yoongi’s mouth runs dry at your question, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly while he tries to find an answer to your question. You don’t give him the chance, though, as you lay on your back and pull him down with you. 

With a giggle, you pull Yoongi’s head to your chest and softly run your fingers through the section of hair behind his ear. Yoongi wordlessly follows your lead, wrapping his arms around your midriff and trying to calm his breathing. The heat that radiates off your body causes Yoongi to flush, but at the same time he begins to slow his breathing. 

“Comfy?” you question. 

“Y- yes.” he responds, allowing himself to fall solely into you. The way your fingers run through his hair makes him feel like this is where he’s meant to be. It reminds him of the touch of a previous lover, who softly coaxed him to sleep after a night out. Yet, it’s different with you as well. Your nails are longer, they send chills down his spine, and the bare skin that resides in the V cut of your shirt seems to fit his face perfectly. 

With that, Yoongi feels himself drift off to sleep. 

~*~*~

“Should we wake them?” 

“No, they look cute... we can’t disturb that.” 

“They’re sleeping on the job, though. _____ could get in trouble if her manager sees her.” 

“Shh, Yoongi has been wanting this since she started here. Besides, we can overturn any manager here.” 

Yoongi can’t make out the voices that are whispering, and he can’t quite seem to pull himself out of his lull yet. Instead, he’s hyper aware of the way your breathing sounds in his ear, your heart beat softly thudding beneath your chest. 

He feels himself drifting back into the deep sleep he fell into, but a hand rests on his shoulder. 

“Hyung, it’s time to go home.” 

“I said not to wake them!” 

Yoongi is beginning to recognize the voices. Namjoon and Jimin are in the room, and Yoongi feels his nose scrunch. 

“Fuck off.” he murmurs against your chest, snuggling deeper into your soft skin. 

“Come on now, you can’t sleep on the studio floor all night.” Namjoon’s voice is low, and Yoongi feels you begin to move. 

“Are you coming home with us tonight?” Namjoon’s attention is now directed to you, and Yoongi decides it is best to open his eyes now. The same dim lighting greets him and he cranes his neck to see your face. 

You’re eyes are still closed but you open your mouth to speak, “Why would I be coming home with you guys?” 

“Because Yoongi is refusing to let go of you.” Jimin speaks commonsensically, though Yoongi can tell he’s teasing. 

You absentmindedly reach your hand to his hair again, “Shall I go home with you and continue our sleep there?” 

Yoongi nods, his chin against your chest, “I’d love that.” 

As the four of you exit the vocal room, Yoongi guides your sleepy figure into the elevator where you reach the parking garage. Jimin drives, the rest of the members already having left and made their way into their beds. On the drive home, Yoongi doesn’t let go of your hand. 

It’s unspoken, and although you haven’t done anything to confirm it, the two of you are aware of the change in your personal relationship. Something so simple--like falling asleep together, has caused Yoongi’s confidence to grow.

Though sleepiness is still clouding you two, Yoongi opens his mouth to speak for the first time since leaving the office, “Do you like me, _____?” 

You laugh, it’s soft and melodic, “No, I just followed you here to sleep in the big comfy bed.” 

“Wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened to me,” Yoongi jokes, pulling back the duvet and slipping his shirt off his torso, “Here, that shirt and jeans can’t be comfortable to sleep in.” 

You nod, glancing back to the walk in closet. Yoongi nods, “You can change in there.” 

As you shut the closet door, Yoongi slips off his own jeans and slips beneath the covers. He reaches to the side and fluffs the pillow you’ll be using, then folding his arms beneath his head and watching the door for you to come out. 

When you enter into the main room again, Yoongi’s shirt doesn’t hang as low on you as he thought it would. It stops just below your ass, riding up when you bend down to place your folded clothes onto the chair in the corner. 

He tears his eyes away from your ass when you turn around, pulling but the duvet for you to slip beneath. 

You happily hop beside him, “Oh god you’re bed is soft. . .” 

Yoongi chuckles, “You’ll sleep well then.” 

You mirror his position, smiling softly, “I don’t think the bed is what will make me sleep well tonight.” 

He gnaws at his bottom lip, “What do you mean?” 

You don’t respond verbally, instead you lean forward and press a light, warm kiss to Yoongi’s lips. 

Immediately his body ignites in fire, his hand flying up to rest against your cheek. That’s as far as it goes, though, because the kiss is over just as quickly as it started. 

“Goodnight, Yoongi.” You whisper, reaching behind you and turning off the lamp on your side. 

Yoongi grins, feeling his stomach swarm with butterflies. You move to rest your head on his chest, intertwining your legs with his. Yoongi holds you tight, his face alight with joy, “Goodnight.” he whispers back. 

[lubdubsworld]

Nights in the City.

Crime Boss! Min Yoongi x Sassy College student OC!

Part 1/?

For all that city is supposed to be a thriving metropolis with bustling traffic no matter what the hour, it still felt incredibly creepy to be standing inside a deserted midnight mart, clutching three packs of highlighter pens, a pack of condoms and a pack of tampons.

But it was finals week, and that generally meant that either

a.) I would stress the fuck out of myself and my period would come on early

or

b.) I would run out of highlighters , fail to highlight the most important part of my notes , forget all about it during the exam and end up dropping a whole grade over it.

or

c.) I would be so horny, would manage to sneak a guy into my room and at the last minute , we would both realize we didn't have protection.

Sounds oddly specific?

These are actual things that have happened to me so, one could say I was merely being smartly proactive by preparing a contingency plan for when or in case things went wrong.

Such wisdom, much wow.

And so here i was at the local all night mart, waiting for the drunk out of his mind kid to pay for his flavored water .

My legs ached, it was pouring cats and dogs outside, and I could feel a headache come on.

Just as the guy finished paying, i felt a surge of relief. Great, I could pay and finally leave, thank you Lord, angels and every saint chilling next to Jesus-

A hand shot out from behind me slapping a wad of 100000 won bills on the counter.

"Need to see the CCTV footage from this evening kid." A low gravelly voice rumbled in my ear , so disgustingly hot it bordered on obscene.

I turned around to glare at the stranger, only to feel my breath catch in my throat.

A breathtakingly beautiful man stood right behind me, dressed in what looked like a Valentino Tux, ebony dark hair and tattoos that stood out stark against his pale skin.

He was tall and lithe, eyes cat-like yet blazing with anger ? passion? a love for opera music?

Well whatever it was, it was potent.

As was his cologne .

I gagged a little.

"Excuse me, pretty boy.... you're in my space." I snapped .

He looked surprised, like he really hadn't noticed my five foot four ass dressed in a lime green fleece jacket and purple yoga pants.

He tilted his head.

"Excuse me?"

That fucking drawl.

Rolling my eyes i pointed at the board that said " Wait your Turn."

"Can't you read?" I snapped.

He didn't reply, merely staring at me carefully, as though memorizing all my features before giving me a very blatant once over.

Not to be outdone, I did the same to him and the small smile on his face grew into an amused smirk.

The cashier's panicked voice drew us both out of our little eye fuck fest.

"Miss, please if you could step aside... hyungnim I'm so sorry...let me get the tapes for you at once..."

"That's alright. i'll send one of my men to get it later. Why don't you finish billing her items first?" He said softly. He gave me another small smile.

"Since you asked so nicely, petal." he rasped out, reaching out and gently brushing the hair off my face.

i frowned at the little endearment.

Well, no matter.

Satisfied , both at having stood up for myself and not having it backfire in my face, I grinned wide at the cashier.

Why did he look so terrified? Geez.

I finished paying and then politely stepped out of the line, indicating to Mr. Tuxedo that he could go next.

But he didn't .

instead he followed me as i walked out.

"Where do you live?" He asked casually.

I blinked, confused.

“What? Why?”

“So I can drop you off. It’s late and the city gets dangerous at night.”

I rolled my eyes.

“The city isn’t dangerous..” I lowered my voice , curling my fingers to get him to lean closer. He obliged obediently, moving closer and bending low till his ear was almost level with my lips, “ I am dangerous.”

He straightened, brows raised and lips parted.

“Oh? You are?”

I grinned conspiratorially.

“Listen, you look rich and kind of handsome so I’m going to assume that you aren’t going to mug me, so I’ll show you. Now, the reason I’m wearing this jacket that makes me look like the hulk jizzed all over me is, this jacket is the only jacket I have with big enough pockets to carry this.”

I slipped a hand into my pocket and pulled out my trusty pepper spray.

“Ah. Smart.” He nodded in approval.

“And Dangerous.” I reminded him.

“Definitely dangerous.” He nodded again, solemnly.

Satisfied, I slipped the can back in.

“So really, kind stranger I’m perfectly safe to walk the dark streets of Seoul on this night.”

He smiled and held both hands up , stepping away respectfully.

“A strong independent woman who don’t need no man.” He said with a grin, “ Noted.”

“I’m Shinhye. What’s your name?” I asked brightly.

“Yoongi.” He smiled.

I nodded.

“Alright, Yoongi. I’m gonna go now… By the way why’d you want the CCTV footage?” I smiled at him.

Yoongi hesitated before giving me a small shrug.

“I stabbed a guy in the neck in the store this afternoon . Just wanted to make sure my men turned off the CCTV when it happened.”

I was still smiling, waiting for him to laugh at the joke, which was definitely creepy, but perhaps just in theme with what we had been discussing.

But he didn’t laugh.

And I felt the first stirrings of worry.

“Ha ha ha.” I said nervously.” That’s funny. L-O-L.”

He tilted his head.

“You think stabbing people is funny?”

I blinked, horrified.

“What, of course not… I mean… You didn’t actually stab anyone did you?”

He hesitated.

“To be fair, he stole from me. If I didn’t stab him and drop his body in the Han, then other people are going to think its okay to steal from me too and I just can’t have that.” He said with a shake of his head.

I opened my mouth to say that the joke had stopped being funny, when three other scars came skidding into the parking lot. I yelped, stumbling on a stray rock and Yoongi caught me, hands firm on my arms , drawing me into the warmth of his chest to keep me from falling.

“Careful, petal.” He breathed right against my ear and I froze staring at the men climbing out of the cars.

Now, these men, I could believe were capable of stabbing people.

They wore small dagger at their waist, the outline of pistol holsters on their sides and their thighs.

“Boss, it’s done. We got rid of him. He’ll be fish chow by the morning.” One of them said cheerfully.

Wait.

No.

No way.

This was a dream.

I had dozed off by the tampon aisle and I was having a fever dream.

“Excellent Jungkook-ah. Boys, say hello to my girlfriend, Shinhye.” Yoongi said casually.

I jumped, trying to get away but his arm came right around my shoulder, forearm resting on the swell of my breasts as he held me closely.

“ Your- your what?”

“Girlfriend. I haven’t met a girl this intriguing in a while and well, you’re quite easy on the eyes too…”

“I… I’m not… No.. Please…” I couldn’t quite form a coherent thought.

“Oh, petal , I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t accept that no. I’m going to pick you up for dinner tomorrow night at …well wherever you live. Our first date so wear something pretty yeah?” he nuzzled my neck.

Actually nuzzled it.

What the actual fuck.

“You’re insane. I’m not dating you!” I said shrilly.

“Eight O clock.” He hummed, still pressed right up against my back. The warmth of his body was ridiculously comforting in the chill night air.

Then before I could process what he was doing, one hand came up to curl over my chin in a gently grip, tilting my face back so I was looking up into his beautiful face.

“Don’t make me wait, petal.” He said softly, before reaching down and closing his lips over mine.

It was a soft kiss , over before I could even process it.

“You said you’re dangerous right baby? I’m dangerous too. Maybe together we can be absolutely terrifying , yeah?” he was laughing now.

And i wasn't.

Infact,

I was going to pass the fuck out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's note : this is just something fluffy and ridiculous to keep me sane while I write the angsty fics.

[trilliastra]

[*drops a sterek fic after two years and runs away to hide*]

-

It’s all Cora’s fault and Derek will remain of the opinion that his life only went downhill the moment his little sister was born.

It starts with Sara, his sister’s friend, whose boyfriend turned out to be a jerk and would not let her inside his apartment to collect her things unless she took him back. And Cora volunteered Derek to help.

Derek didn’t really mind it at first, Sara only needed a guy to look strong (which he is), angry (which he was) and able to carry her stuff from place a to place b (which he did). But some weeks later Sara met a friend with an equally stupid boyfriend and said friend had another friend and then Laura heard about it and it suddenly became a thing.

Georgia, Nelly, Carmen, Lola.

Isaac.

“I could help, you know?” Derek had said after the fifth time he noticed the blossoming purple bruises on the back of Isaac’s neck, his scrapped knuckles. “If you need to get rid of your –” he lowered his voice, “boyfriend.”

Isaac had looked at him, wide eyed, before he confessed he isn’t gay and the problem was actually his dad. “Oh,” Derek had said, thinking for a moment before adding, “I could help with that, too.”

Turns out Derek’s intimidation skills were lacking when compared to his own father’s.

-

“You’re doing a really nice thing, Derek.” Isaac says one night, helping him with his hand. Asshole boyfriend of the night thought he could bag a few punches before letting Phill grab his laptop back. Derek was faster, and stronger.

Isaac moved in with him and Boyd two weeks after his dad was sentenced. He didn’t want to, at first, was still incredibly shy and scared of everything, including Derek, but he opened up to Boyd pretty quickly. Despite his built (and the fact he can bench press three times his own weight), Boyd is the softest person Derek has ever met.

“Sure.” Derek sighs.

“But?” He asks and Derek sighs again, looks away when Boyd walks into the room.

“I had a date.” Derek confesses and Boyd whistles in sympathy.

“How many times has it been, again?”

“Three.” Derek winces when Isaac presses the antiseptic over the cut. “I’m – I really like him.”

“You could just tell him.” Isaac says. “He’s a cool guy, I guess.” He shrugs, smiling. “Sometimes he’s an asshole. But not in a bad way.”

Derek huffs out a laugh. “Yeah.”

Stiles is an asshole, he likes teasing Derek when they are discussing ethics in the workplace and every way capitalism is stepping over immigrants, they banter and they quote books back and forth and while some people (his sisters) roll their eyes when Derek brings up some history fact, Stiles nods along, brings up another history fact that Derek didn’t know (or sometimes pretends not to know, just to hear Stiles talking about it), hands moving around as he explains his point or badmouths a historic figure that owned so much money ‘their great-great-grandkids are still swimming in the gold they stole from the natives’.

Derek is in love.

“What did you tell him this time?” Boyd asks, munching on his chips. He shakes the bag in front of them and while Derek takes a couple, Isaac shakes his head, still not used to being allowed good things.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“That my mom had stopped by to visit.” Derek says. He hates lying, he is not even good at it. The first time he tried to tell Stiles he looked like a wet cat after he got caught up in the rain, white shirt sticking to his chest, Derek’s cheeks had gotten so red, Stiles asked him if he was okay.

“Dude.” Isaac says, shaking his head in disappointment as he finishes bandaging Derek’s hand.

“I know.” Derek gives back, collapsing on his bed with a groan.

This is all Cora’s fault.

-

Okay. Stiles texts back when Derek has to postpone their date again. Derek can feel the disappointment through the message, mirroring his own feelings.

How about tomorrow night? Derek tries, stares at his phone for minutes until he realizes Stiles probably won’t text him back.

-

“Please.” Maria says, holding her cat with a bright smile as they talk in front of a coffee shop. She is trying to convince him to accept a coffee and Derek is trying to convince her he doesn’t need it. “How can I thank you?”

Derek sighs. “I didn’t do anything.” And it is true, her boyfriend wasn’t working when they arrived at the coffee shop and when they opened the door of the apartment upstairs, it was empty save for the cat that Maria is currently hugging.

“You were there for me.” She smiles, tucking her hair behind her ear and Derek already knows what’s coming.

It’s not the first time, probably won’t be the last. He has been invited for ‘thank you’ coffees, dinners, sex. It never felt right, though. Not with the guys, and especially not with the girls.

Sorry. He always says. Some of them are attractive, he supposes, but he was, and still is, very much gay.

“I’m—” he starts, but Maria’s eyes widen and when Derek turns around, a guy is stalking towards them, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“You bitch!” He shouts, startling most of the costumers inside and the shop and the people walking around the street. “What are you doing?”

“Taking my cat back!” She yells back and Derek steps closer, eyeing the guy’s fists as he starts to shake with anger.

The guy notices his move and turns his glare to him. “And who the fuck are you?”

Before Derek can answer, Maria chimes in. “My boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?” It takes Derek a second to realize the words didn’t come from him, but from someone in the crowd, one of the onlookers that gathered around them to watch the scene unfold.

Two seconds after that, Derek realizes the person talking was Stiles.

-

That explains a lot. It’s the last message Stiles sends him before blocking his number.

Derek tries to call, talk to him after class, but his friends keep him away, Lydia going as far as brandishing a can of pepper spray in front of him, eyes shining with an unspoken threat.

“You should follow him to his dorm.” Isaac offers, weakly.

“Creeps do that.” Derek says. “I don’t want to be more of an asshole than I already am.”

“You’re not an asshole.” Isaac says, clasping his shoulder in sympathy. “I could – talk to him? If you want?” The offer makes Derek smile, touched. Isaac is still extremely shy in front of strangers, but just the fact that he considered doing it for him is enough.

“It’s fine.” Derek says. It isn’t fine, and they both know it, but he will pull through. Eventually. “It wasn’t meant to be.”

-

It’s harder that Derek anticipated, seeing Stiles during classes and not being able to talk to him, to tease him when Mrs. Schilder glares at him for using a pun that makes the entire room burst out laughing from second-hand embarrassment.

He is beautiful, Derek thinks at least ten times a day, and smart and kind and funny and Derek could see them being together for a long time, falling deeper in love as the time passes.

He should be used to not having good things. He grew up as a middle child, as a gay teenager in a small town where some boys were so far deep in the closet, they couldn’t find their way out, he should be used to not keeping the things he likes.

So why does it hurt so much?

-

“Derek—”

“No.”

“She needs—”

“Call someone else.”

“You are really going to leave her—”

Derek slams his book shut, kicks his chair back as he stands up. Cora’s eyes widen when someone tells him to be quiet and Derek simply ignores them. “I need to study for a test. Call someone else.”

Helping someone should feel good, it should make him happy, not feel like a burden. He is more than an angry guy with a strong body. He doesn’t even like confrontation. He started working out to burn his energy, to let out some of this anger that he’s been constantly carrying inside and he kept working out because he enjoyed it and now – now even that is ruined.

“Why are you being so selfish?” She asks and Derek knows, deep inside, that she doesn’t mean it like that, that she’s just as angry as him, humiliated by the fact he’s calling her out in the middle of the library. Still, that doesn’t matter now. Now, Derek is angry and sad and done.

“Fuck you.” He says and walks away.

-

His initial plan was to make it to his apartment, bury himself under the covers and not leave his room until his mother comes to give him an earful. Because she will, undoubtedly, when Cora tells her about it.

But Derek doesn’t make it to his apartment, he doesn’t even make it outside the library, simply makes a u-turn and heads for the dark zone, a space under the stairs leading to the storeroom where couples usually go to make out. There, he collapses on the ground, taking deep breaths, and buries his face in his hands.

This has been a long time coming, he thinks. He’s been on the edge for a while. This entire experience has made him remember how awful it was to pretend to be someone he wasn’t, to be only liked for his body or for his ability to pass the answers to the test without the teacher seeing him.

Some memories are hard to forget.

“Are you okay?” Derek flinches, surprised to hear Stiles’ voice. “Oh,” Stiles whispers, noticing Derek’s red eyes, the tears streaming down his face, “bad day, huh?”

“She was not my girlfriend.” Derek blurts out, head a mess of emotions: fear, anger, loneliness, regret.

“Dude,” Stiles frowns, confused, “I know Cora is your sister.”

“No.” Derek shakes his head, frantic. “The other day, at the coffee shop. I was helping her with her ex-boyfriend, I do that sometimes. He— he was an asshole and she needed help getting her cat back and I look strong and I know how to –”

“Woah, woah, slow down.” Stiles raises his hands, alarmed, and Derek realizes his own hands are shaking and he can’t breathe. “In and out,” Stiles whispers, “can I—can I touch you?”

Derek shakes his head, focusing on his breath. Panic attack, he remembers, suffocating. No touching. “Okay,” Stiles agrees, easily, “should I keep talking?” Derek shakes his head again, keeps his eyes on his hands. Talking is too much, listening is too much, breathing is too much. “Do you want me to leave?”

“No.” Derek manages to gasp. He doesn’t want to be alone.

Stiles nods, leans against the wall next to Derek and starts fiddling with his shoelaces, twirling them around wordlessly. Derek doesn’t know how much time it passes, but he keeps watching Stiles’ fingers moving distractedly, patiently waiting for him. With him.

“I’m sorry.” Derek manages to say, eventually.

Stiles sighs. “I know.” He closes his own eyes before turning to Derek. “You don’t have to explain.”

“I—” Derek swallows heavily, “have to.” He answers, before shaking his head. No, that doesn’t sound right, “no, I—I want to.”

-

They leave the library together, Stiles standing up first and offering his hand to help Derek up. Stiles doesn’t let go as they walk towards Derek’s apartment, squeezes his hand from time to time as Derek tells him about everything.

“You could have told me.” Stiles notes.

“I don’t know why I didn’t.” Derek confesses. “I guess I didn’t want you to see me as that guy too. Beefy Derek.” He laughs, humorless. “That’s the nickname my sister came up with a few months ago.”

Stiles groans, stops walking, forcing Derek to stop as well. “You are so much more than that.” He assures, touching Derek’s face softly though his eyes shine with certainty. “I love your brain, your cute jokes, the fact that you get my stupid history facts because you like history just as much as I do, and especially the way you care so much. College, people, the world.” He pulls him in for a quick, assertive kiss, and Derek immediately feels so light he could fly. But he won’t, because Stiles is keeping him grounded by the softest touch, the smallest smile.

“Cute jokes?” He manages to ask, arching an eyebrow. When Stiles laughs, he smiles.

“They are.” He insists.

“Okay.” Derek accepts the words easily, because everything seems easy when it comes to Stiles. “If I ask you out on a new date,” he says, “will Lydia pepper spray me?”

“I will stop her.” Stiles reassures, squeezing his hand again. “But before,” he adds and Derek feels his stomach turning with anticipation, “you have to know that I kind of hate your sister right now.”

“Oh.” Derek says. “Okay, I can—I can see that.”

“I’m sorry.” Stiles says, though he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“Me too.” Derek agrees.

-

When Derek tells him about Cora’s apology and the earful his sister got from their mom, Stiles excuses himself to go laugh in the bathroom while Derek shrugs and goes back to eating his share of the pizza.

By the time they get married, Stiles and Cora have become best friends. Derek hates it (he doesn’t).

[stopbeingrude]

I've been working on this for a while now. Since my one-shot on Gruvia-day went over pretty well, I figured why not? Probably another fanfiction about Juvia's past, but how could you blame me? Her backstory has so much potential I'll try to publish new chapters , every week or maybe more ( we'll see) So without further ado , i present you my newest work. ( Feedback is welcomed of course)

,, I like the rain, it always seemed like the only thing that was like me..."

Chapter 1. ,,Where are you?"

-"Juvia…." - he said quietly -" this is the last time you will be seeing me…"- For the moment she felt like she couldn't breathe. Until a little while ago, everything was fine. He visited her as usual, they talked as usual. However, she felt that something was wrong, she could see it from his behavior. He was terribly tense, but...

- "You're old enough to understand the situation I'm in. I've chosen this life, so I've always been aware of the fact that one day I would be in danger. But you have nothing to do with it. I won't let anything happen to you…"-he said with a shaky voice.

It was probably the only moment in her life ,when Juvia saw fear in his violet eyes. Who would have thought that unbeatable Jeremiah, the guy with a sharp tongue, incredible self-confidence and enormous power... would be standing in front of her unsure and quiet...

-" I came to say goodbye…"

'No...please no..' - she felt tears running down her cheeks. He was joking , he had to be joking. It was another one of his pranks , he never went that far , but it couldn't be truth....

- "That's not funny…. Stop...You're joking right? You can't.... you can't be serious.. No…"- the girl sobbed. She looked at his face again, hoping he was wrong....The man turned his gaze away from her.

...No...

-"You want to leave Juvia alone?...No..please..I'll be training harder, I'll become stronger…you can't!..." - her voice broke down. She hugged his legs.

The girl was still trying to convince him with all her strength. She begged , she pleaded , she cried...but nothing made him change his decision.

-" Juvia!" - this time he spoke to her in a cold, firm voice. The voice that was always directed at his opponents not her. It wasn't his usual feisty, slightly sleepy voice. For the first time in her life Juvia was a little scared of him.

-"I will not accept any objections from you. You will do as I have told you. Do you think your mother would be proud of the way you behave?"- he looked straight into her eyes.

........

Mother?.. Every time she was mentioned, Juvia wasn't sure how to react. She didn't know what to think about her…nor did she remember her….she knew practically nothing..

Every time someone mentioned her, Juvia felt like she was being told about some character from legends, or fantasy books…., not a mother she should feel some kind of connection to, not even a REAL person.

A wonderful and beautiful mage who, after arriving to Tempeville together with Jerry, saved the village from an attack of bandits. And that's all.

No one except Jerry really knew who she was, nor where she came from..

Only information that Juvia had was that the golden-haired man was on one of his missions, when he saw Eliana Lockser for the first time.She helped him and after that they started to hang out with each other, to the point they were practically inseparable....

Though, he always said that he felt like Mother had never completely opened up to him. He stated that there were many things that Eliana never shared with him and he couldn't do anything about it.

Juvia never understood that, weren't he and Eliana supposed to be…..friends..?

Well, Juvia never got their relationship, till she grew older.

-We…were close- that was all he would always say. They lived, ate, trained together, spent time with each other and he took care of her child after her death..

......................................

What would her mother think?

Honestly Juvia didn't care...In the end ,she would still end up being alone. Why would that matter?

-"Fine…"- said the girl quietly- "Go...but please don't die and take care of yourself.." - she said , this time devoid of any emotion.

Her guardian looked at her strangely. Then hugged her for the last time.

-"Farewell froggy…"-Funny, she used to hate this pet name ,but now, the thought that this was the last time he would ever call her that, destroyed her completely - "Don't let them push you around, you're strong girl..."- he whispered. Then disappeared into the darkness, leaving Juvie all alone in front of the orphanage door.

So that's it, now she was left completely alone . No mother, no uncle, no friends....no one.

The girl could not stand it any longer. She fell to her knees and started crying as loud as she was able to, drowning in her own tears.

Her screams didn't stop until she heard someone calling her name.

……….Juvia!...

'Who's there?'

….Juvia!….

'What do you want…!'

…..Juvia!.....

'Leave me alone!

....Juvia!....Juvia!...

The girl watched as everything around her began to fall apart

-Juvia...Juvia…JUVIA!!

She knew that voice... Gray?....Wait, he wasn't there at that time...he couldn't be..

-"Juvia, please wake up!" -yelled her terrified fiancé.

Woman finally opened her eyes. Tears were streaming from them, she felt a huge pain in her throat, caused by the screams. She couldn't stop shaking.

'Dream….stupid dream….'

She felt the hands of her beloved on her face. She looked up into eyes that were looking at her with great concern. She couldn't help but whisper his name

-"....Gray…?"

'It was just a bad dream, a meaningless memory from the past'-she told herself.

They looked at each other like that for a good amount of time, until Gray spoke up, in a very quiet and gentle voice.

-" Please..tell me what the nightmare was about," he asked, pulling her into his arms. It had to be a nightmare, he knew that well. But it was the first time he had seen her like this and Gray was petrified.

-"Juvia doesn't remember anymore..."- she knew that lying wasn't the best idea, but she didn't want to tell him about her past now. She was sure that he would be angry at her for hiding it from him.

-"I know you're lying, now tell the truth"- said Gray firmly. Did she really believe Gray would let her go so easily?- "...Please.. be honest with me. You know you can tell me anything."

- "A childhood memory" she said vaguely. It wasn't a lie.

-" I'm sure you didn't dream about the usual bullying you have been through. Please...Juvia..I have a right to know.."

She took a deep breath

-"Juv..I dreamt about my uncle leaving me alone at the orphanage…."- she said quietly, lowering her gaze towards the pillows, she wouldn't be able to look straight into his dark eyes.

- "Uncle? What Uncle?....But you told me you had no family left, that you were all alone.."-he said, shocked.

He has always been sure that he knew everything about his Juvia. She was always very open and straightforward with him. After they became a couple, Gray stopped hiding his thoughts and secrets from her. He thought that she did that too…

And now he finds out about some uncle... who... left her? In the blink of an eye, his mood changed.

-"All this time you've been covering the ass of the asshole who abandoned you?" -he asked, filled with rage.

Gray imagined the silhouette of a man dropping a little, crying Juvie at the door of the orphanage. He felt both anger and hatred towards the mysterious man. He would find him, tear him apart, and make him beg Juvia for forgiveness.

-" No, no...you have misunderstood me.."- he looked at Juvia's red but still beautiful face and all the anger disappeared instantly.

' She stopped using third person'- he noted

-"Firstly he is not my relative, but my mother's companion and secondly he didn't abandon me "- she started- "He's been taking care of me since I was baby. He took care of my needs, he taught me how to use water magic, he basically raised me…But because of his job, he had to travel a lot. Jerry -that's his name- said that it would be dangerous for a weak child like me to stay with him , so I started living in an orphanage. He would always visit me or the other way around...Till.."-she stopped for a moment to compose herself -" Till one day he told me that he needed to leave and that It was for my safety. After that I have never seen him again. "

For a while they sat in silence , hugging each other. Gray wasn't sure what he should say to her…

-"You never saw each other again?''-he asked. 'She just told you that, idiot...Why are you asking her again? To make her cry even more?' - Gray mentally scolded himself.

-"Yeah... I wanted to know how he was doing, i tried to find out what happened to him but..there was nothing"

- "Juvia... he can be…"- he didn't want to finish his sentence. His beloved was already devastated enough.

-'' I know"- she answered-" I have always been prepared for that.. That's why I've stopped looking for him. I accepted that���Until I met with Mrs Revee this afternoon. She used to work at a library in Tempeville - my hometown.

We started talking about old times , then she brought up the topic of Jerry. She asked me if I knew what happened to him….After that I couldn't stop thinking about him…...I guess that's where nightmares came from."

- "Juvia….."- Gray tried to find the appropriate words- "If there is anything I could do…"- He was desperate to do something...He hated being so powerless.

- "No and nothing can be done anyway, he traveled all his life. Trying to find him or his grave would take months if not longer…"

- "Juvia…"

-" It's nothing, darling. Good night"

The girl lay down on her right side and covered herself with a blanket. She tried her best to fall asleep as quickly as possible. She needs to forget all of this, so she can go back to being her happy and positive self. Not gloomy, scary Rainwoman.... Suddenly she felt Gray's breath on her neck and his strong arms around her.

- "I know I don't say this often...but I love you…...and I hate to see you like this...I will do everything in my power to find out what happened to him..."- he whispered ,- "We will start with your home village."

- "Gray...I.... - she didn't know what to say. How dare he make her fall in love even more...-Thank you..Juvia loves you too."

After that both of them were finally able to fall asleep. Tomorrow… they will start preparing for their journey..

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Author's note: This is probably the most upsetting thing I've ever written , especially the scenes with little Juvia....Ouch..