#I just started crying during the Dark Side/ Bad Idea opening and the results felt like nothing

[because-its-eurovision]

.

[zodiyack]

In Regards Of My Ex

Pairing: Niklaus Mikaelson x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst

Words: 2,125

Summary: Niklaus believes deceitful gossip from Aurora De Martel about his wife and takes his anger out on her. As a result, Y/n leaves and finds comfort with Cami and Davina, who call in backup to confront the big bad hybrid about his big bad dumbassery.

Note: I’ve been in a fluffy mood as of recently HOWEVER this idea was sparked when I was feeling angsty™ so...sorry but also not sorry?

Taglist: @matth1w​, @redspaceace-writes​, @fandom-puff​, @simonsbluee​, @darling-i-read-it​, @jenepleurepasbaby​, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @dpaccione​

Masterlist | The Originals Masterlist

Part One. Part Two. Part Three.

“That wife of yours has been sneaking around with my brother. Breaking more hearts than just yours from what I can see.”

“I suppose some people just can’t see the worthiness of the king in front of them. If I were your wife, I wouldn’t be like Y/n. I’d be committed you and never give you fib tales like her.”

“You are aware that Y/n has been plotting something nefarious against you, aren’t you?”

“I know you wanted to marry someone just as sinister as you, but perhaps you should’ve checked where her loyalty lied before tying that knot.”

Aurora fed him stories such as these, and many more, each conclusion of the lies spewing from her mouth something appalling about Y/n. At first, Klaus didn’t listen, but as her stories grew worse and worse, the faux feeling of treachery intensified. He knew it was unwise to believe anything that came from the spiteful, jealous woman...yet, his distress caused pain to strike his heart and he yearned to know the truth.

Although, in this case, the “truth” wasn’t actually very truthful.

She often told him things like that Lucien was going after his girl for the second time, first with her when she had her chance and now, his beloved wife. Klaus merely brushed it off with an honest “he tries and I’ll stake him first chance I get”. However, Aurora wasn’t finished yet. She continued to lie and deceive Niklaus about the woman who she accused of replacing her in his life. The envy and loathing Aurora felt for Y/n was her motivator, but the woman was too far up a wall to need one in the first place.

“Are you telling me the truth?” He growled, keeping his eyes trained at the wall in front of them.

“Why do you ask?”

“I need to know I can trust your bold claims. So answer me, Aurora, are you telling me the truth?”

That smug little grin, masking her deluding ways. “Of course, Nik. I would never lie to you.” Her welcome into his trust was unsurprisingly taken advantage of  when she traced her finger down his arm and then brought her hand up his abdomen slowly. Klaus shoved her invasive hand off of his chest though, giving her a warning glare.

“Thank you for informing me.” That was all he said to her before he made his way out of the room in the most hurry she’d ever seen him in.

Aurora smiled conceitedly. Her plans were on the right track. Whilst Nik didn’t have the same feelings for her now as he did way back during the beginning of their story, but Aurora was determined to stir those feelings from the dead as vampirism did him and her.

She drawled under her breath, “I will have you again, Nik.” her mischievous smile grew wider, “I will have you again, and nothing can stop me this time.”

“Blasphemy!” Niklaus shouted, veins popping out from the rage coursing in his system. He neared Y/n again, the slight fear in her eyes drawing a pause for a second, guilt stilling him, but his anger took the reigns once more.

“It’s not blasphemy! I would never lie to you!”

“The falsity of your deception proves otherwise, love.” He smirked, raising his brows as to question if she would battle his words yet again. Proof was what he needed, but his vexation had drowned out all logic, including his ability to see the proof he wanted so desperately.

“What deception? What falsehood do you believe to have come from my mouth? When I married you, I vowed to be truthful and loyal. You of all people on this fucking earth should know I always keep a vow.” She narrowed her eyes at him. The betrayal he thought he felt was temporary and fabricated, but hers was 100% genuine and seething within her.

“You say that but if you were indeed an untrue person, your answer would be no different.”

“Why do you insist on proving me a traitor!? What has pushed you so far past your breaking point that you actually accuse me, your wife, as a viper?”

“Don’t you pretend like you don’t know the malicious schemes you’ve plotted against me or the affairs you’ve had with men who obviously aren’t your husband!” He couldn’t stop himself now; “I’ve loved you for centuries and you decide to be disloyal and ill-natured?!”

“Says who?!”

“Says Aurora!” After the words flew from his mouth, a tiny part of him realized just how fucked up it sounded. Just how fucked up it was that he believed her over his wife, but the hybrid was stubborn. He was too stubborn to change his belief or admit his fallacious accusations were unjust without proper evidence.

Y/n knew Aurora and Klaus’ story. Her knowledge of the ancient and long forgotten tale made her reaction thousands of times worse. “Aurora? ...Huh. You choose to believe her- that manipulative, lying bitch, over me? I thought you knew me better than that.” She wiped away a rebellious tear, “I thought I knew you better than that.”

Disappointment hung heavy on her features, drawing a feeling of shame from Klaus. Y/n glared at him one last time, her knitted brows and vaguely teary eyes evidence of the heavy-heartedness that overwhelmed her. She bit the inside of her mouth and shook her head disapprovingly before turning and walking out the front gate-doors of the Mikaelson mansion. Klaus was alone.

The sounds of Davina’s giggles echoed, Cami sitting in front of her and chuckling heartfully as well. Their laughter died off when they noticed Y/n sulking through the front doors of Rousseau's. The place was empty aside from the two women having drinks and a friendly chat. Then Y/n entered and found a seat. The atmosphere, once cheery, suddenly felt melancholy.

“Hey, Y/n, you alright?” Camille’s smile was wiped from her lips. She felt empathy for Klaus’ wife and, as a friendly person in general, she felt overcome with the need to help solve the complication that made her feel so down in the dumps.

“I’m-” She was ready to say fine, Davina and Cami knew it, but she broke down in tears before she could even shape an “o” with her lips. Both women jumped up immediately and sat in the seats beside Y/n. Though Davina couldn’t stand Klaus, she actually liked Y/n and seeing her hurt sent searing pain into her own heart.

“It’s okay, hun,” Cami wrapped an arm over Y/n’s shoulder, her other hand rubbing her other shoulder and arm comfortingly, “take as long as you need, there’s no pressure, no rush, none of that. We’ve got you.”

And so they did. The two women took turns holding Y/n as she cried, and before long, she was ready to talk. She explained Klaus’ anger and the source of their fight, the source of the fake news he’d lashed out because of. Davina and Cami shared a glance when Aurora was mentioned, both women already hating her but equally despising her even more now. Y/n sobbed, crying into Cami’s shoulder about wanting Klaus to just believe her. She said she loved him and because of that, she felt pained by his lack of belief in her.

“He’s not worth it if he can’t see how wrong that decision was-”

“I know, but he’s my husband. I vowed to love him always and forever, to never leave his side, and I intend to keep that vow...so long as he doesn’t do anything to fuck it up any more than he already has.”

The sun began to sink into the dark, not fully quite yet, but still creating it’s beautiful array of colors as a final act before disappearing for the night. About halfway through Y/n’s rant, Cami called Hayley and gave her a summary of what she knew so far. A promise of arriving as soon as she could was returned on Hayley’s end before the line went dead and Cami returned to the table.

Still not entirely after sunset yet, Hayley swung open the door to Rousseau's, catching Davina and Y/n off guard. Despite being the one who called her, Cami stayed seated. Y/n and the witch beside her exchanged confused expressions.

“Are you just gonna sit there or are you gonna tell me what the hell I need to do to Klaus?”

Y/n chuckled softly, wiping away more of the salty tears, before standing and walking over to Hayley, greeting her with a hug. “You don’t have to get involved if you don’t want to-”

“No, trust me, I have to and I want to.” She pulled away and dropped her warm smile, giving Y/n the most serious look she could muster. And as she was Hayley Marshall, it was effortlessly pretty fucking serious. “Now, I want you tell me everything,” the mom voice came out to play, “don’t leave a single detail out. Then, we can discuss what we’re going to do about it.”

“Where is he?”

Rebekah had been informed by the pissed off werewolf and bartender everything that had happened, resulting in her becoming equally upset. She welcomed Hayley inside the gates and nodded her head up the stairs. “I haven’t said anything to him, so you’ll be lucky enough to catch him by surprise.”

The werewolf nodded in understanding before pacing toward the stairs irritability. “Thanks.”

“Make it hurt!” Rebekah’s voice faded away as she walked out the gates, leaving Hayley alone to find Niklaus.

Atop the stairs, she found no sign of anyone whatsoever, but that was only on the outside. If Klaus happened to be inside on of the many rooms, she wouldn’t waste her time searching. Instead, she waited, leaning against the railing and doing a breathing exercise Y/n taught her during one lonely full-moon. 

After minutes of waiting, Klaus finally walked out of a door and started for the stairs. It wasn’t longer than a minute before he stopped in his tracks and realized he’d missed something. He shot a double take in Hayley’s direction, a puzzled expression quickly finding way to his face. It seemed as though he was contemplating whether or not her unexpected appearance was a good thing or a bad thing.

When he seemingly couldn’t make up his mind, staring a few minutes longer, a heavy sigh left her mouth. She was ticked off with him before, but after hearing everything Y/n had to say, she was furious. No, more than furious. The blood boiling rage was incessantly pounding in her head, all she wanted was cause destruction and pain. A rare thing for her.

But now was not the time to lash out, not yet. She inhaled and exhaled, Hayley shifted on her feet and looked around before turning her head to Klaus and beckoned him over to her with a come-hither motion of her index finger.

“What is it?”

She looked at him, flabbergasted that he’d even ask a question as stupid as that, “What is it? What is it, Klaus?” Hayley slapped him, the man doubling back and blinking in astonishment. And not the good kind.

“How dare you lay your hands on me, you-”

“So you’re gonna yell at me now?” She crossed her arms, and unimpressed look resting upon her face. “You know, personally, I think Y/n is better off without you but she’s broken and has been bawling her eyes out nonstop for hours on end, drinking away all the pain that you’ve formed into a stake and shoved into her chest.”

He stopped, fury fleeing his face as he experienced what felt like her words body-slamming into him.

“And guess who’s been there to pick out the splinters?” She poked her finger against her chest over and over again. “Me!” Her eyes never left his, telling him just how sincere about this she really was. “Me! Cami- even Davina!” Hayley threw her hands in the air, emphasizing the shock that came with the information. “Rebekah’s on her way over now, and I’m sure Elijah will see to it that he comforts his sister-in-law as much as he can, but you?”

“I-”

She cut him off, temper still unquenched, thirsty for vengeance. “Let me finish.” She growled. Hayley looked around the room in attempt to calm herself, but it was to no avail.

“You got her into this mess. I just hope you get both of you guys out of it.” She flicked her eyes back to his, giving him her infamous dead eyed glare. “I really hope you do. And you better do it soon. Because I won’t be there to pick the splinters out for you when she realizes she doesn’t need your sorry ass.”

[mystic-sky]

A/N: here’s Part 2/4💘 I told y’all I’m gonna finish this and I will. this short series is NSFW. Enjoy 😭❤️

✨part 1 here✨ | ✨parts 3 & 4 on ao3 only✨

Some would say this was entirely unnecessary, perhaps even a little too casual for work. But you know when you have one of those really good friends you’d do anything for? The kind you’d spend money on without a second thought? That’s how you felt about Suguru. You could call him whenever you wanted and he’d come fix up your car for you, help you lift things, or just lend you his ear. He was an extremely good listener, and he was always there for you. It was hard to believe such a sweet guy could be friends with Satoru. It was also hard to believe how you could ever favor Satoru more.

You were incredibly excited to give Suguru all the things you had gotten him over the weekend. Then, like a raining brick shower, did you remember that he came to your work place, with Satoru, and you anonymously gave him a lap dance. And now, you have to talk to both of them like you weren’t shaking your ass in their faces the night before. Tough.

You questioned all your life decisions as you anxiously dialed Shoko. You told her it was urgent and that you needed help with the gift bags, as well as time for girl talk and morning coffee before work. 

When she arrived you graciously hugged her, whining and crying her name as you reached over the arm rest. 

“You didn’t tell anyone where I worked at, right?” You say, tear stricken and panicked as you peer at her through wet eyes. She shot you an almost betrayed look. When did you start thinking she could be that menacing? 

“No- are you crying? Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” She pushed you away, staring worriedly with baggy under eyes.

“Suguru and Satoru showed up to my other job last night.” You shrieked, leaning against the wheel of your car and burrowing your head in your arms. 

“I did have a blindfold on but I don’t know if they knew it was me.” You say, muffling your embarrassment. 

Shoko could’ve laughed a bit, picking up her iced coffee. 

“You always did talk about giving Satoru the dance of his life to put his pitiful attitude in check.” She said, unpackaging the straw and stabbing the lid.

“Shoko!” 

“What? Your words not mine.” She said smugly. 

“I mean that’s how I felt but then he actually showed up! And then he gave my co worker his number to give to me! He definitely knows it’s me!”

“Why would he give it to you again on a piece of paper if he knew it was you?” Shoko quizzed. 

“To fuck with me, obviously.” You mutter, sinking into the drivers seat. “That’s Satoru shit.”

She swished her coffee around, further mixing her creamer. “That does sound like Satoru behavior.”

“Shoko!” You whined again. “How the heck am I supposed to face him? Not to mention, I got Suguru all this stuff and I was so excited to give it to him. You think he knows too? And what if he didn’t know but Satoru told him? Ugh- my head hurts.” You say, taking up your coffee and plunging the lid with your own straw. 

“How good was your blindfold?” She raises a brow at you.

“I looked like Harley Quinn’s knock off stripper sister.” Shoko let a laugh, earning a grunt from you.

“Okay okay, so they probably don’t know. But I would just suck it up and act like you don’t know anything either. Like an ‘I know that you know that I know’ kinda situation? But you’re not gonna do anything about it- kinda thing.”

“And you could always switch jobs if you’re that mortified. Poor Suguru, and his gifts though. It seems like Satoru ruins everything for him.” She sighed. 

Shoko had a way of pretending like things weren’t as bad as they were, and though sometimes it bothered you, talking to her helped you relax.

“I forgot to mention I gave Suguru a dance.” You sink more into your chair, covering your face.

“Oh then they definitely know.” She teased.

“Shoko!!!” You whined again.

“I’m kidding! There’s no guarantee that they know or don’t know.” Shoko said, placing her coffee down. “I would fake it until you can’t.”

You wanted to crawl in a hole. Couldn’t you just live a peaceful life?

“I have to move away and change my name, it’s the only way.” You cried. 

“Let me help you get the bags,” Shoko said, stepping out the car and ignoring you entirely.

“I was only messing with you, they don’t know a thing. I overheard the two of them inside talking about how nice the place was. They didn’t mention anything in particular while I was clocking in.”

You panicked anyway. Why would they?

“Now up and out, you can’t hide in your car forever.”

You sluggishly climbed out the vehicle and opened your trunk. 

“If it makes you feel better I’ll ask them about it for you.” Shoko helped you gather Suguru’s gifts and you went inside.

Just relax, (Name). Be cool, be cool. 

You were dazed, deep in thought as you and Shoko walked through the halls. You never regretted giving anyone a lap dance during your entire dancing career. You honestly don’t know what came over you. All you wanted was to make Satoru’s mouth water. It’s not like you didn’t already have his attention with his constant flirting at work but still, why did you have to be so gutsy?

You set the gifts down on your desk, before slumping into your office chair. 

“Good morning!” You heard the white haired devil chirp through the door way, knocking ever so lightly on the already opened door. Suguru trailed in quietly behind him, greeting you and Shoko.

“Morning!” Suguru hummed, taking a delicate sip from his coffee. 

You shyly waved, before Shoko spoke. “How was your night out?” 

Breaking the ice for us all Shoko, I thank the heavens and earth for your existence.

“It was great! Wish you guys could’ve been there. Fanciest club I’ve ever been to, like ever.” Satoru spoke, shoving his hands in his pocket. 

“It was cool. I still would’ve rather went to dinner with everyone.” Suguru shrugged, setting his coffee on his desk. You watched Satoru approach your table, quickly changing the subject of conversation. 

“What’s all this?” He quizzed, looking down at your sheepish body in your chair. Did they really not know? Or were they possibly pretending not to?

“T-These are gifts, for Suguru,” you stand, feeling a bit more confident. The dark haired male perked up at you, before walking towards your desk.

“I told you not to get me anything,” he sighed. You could see the soft smile edging on his lips as he looked down at you. “And then you spoil me like this? People are gonna think we’re dating, you know?” 

You swore you heard Satoru scoff.

“Hush, I told you it’s not a big deal. Besides, you’re always helping me out without asking. You deserve to be spoiled!” You say firmly, hands on your hips. He blushed a bit, realizing he wouldn’t be able to argue with you if he tried.

“You never spoil me this much on my birthday,” Satoru pouted, quickly inserting himself between the two of you, both verbally and physically.

“You’ve got to make your mark on people Satoru,” Shoko said, taking a seat behind her desk.

“I spoil all my friends as needed.” You say, crossing your arms proudly. “If you were a little nicer, maybe I wouldn’t think twice about buying you a bunch of nice things. Besides, your mistresses spoil you plenty.” 

“Mistresses? What mistresses? (Name) it hurts my feelings when you talk like that.” Satoru put a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended.

“You have feelings?” Everyone but Satoru said this in unison, resulting the room to fill with heavy laughter. 

“Oooo so funny.” He said sarcastically, keeping the straightest face.

“If you’re good to me for the rest of the year I’ll get you something nice.” You say, soothing the wound you all gave him.

“But it’s not your birthday right now, is it?” You say, flipping your hair and shifting behind Suguru. You gave him a little push.

“Go head, open them!” You say excitedly. Suguru lets out a soft laugh, before digging into his bounty.

After watching him open his gifts while Satoru graciously recorded the entire moment for his Instagram, the white haired fiend sparked up an idea.

“So, since Suguru kept saying he wanted to do something with everyone I thought we could take a getaway trip this weekend to my folk’s place in the country side.”

“Just us 4?” Shoko asked. “And are you sure we won’t be bothering your parents?” 

“Oh no, this is their vacation house. They only go on the holidays. Also, Nanami is definitely coming!” Satoru cooed.

“That sounds like so much fun!” Shoko swooned.

“I haven’t seen Nanami in so long. This should be exciting.” You clasp your hands together delightedly.

“Why do I get the feeling you didn’t actually ask Nanami if he wanted to come yet...” Geto squinted at Satoru, who smiled childishly.

“Nanami loves me. He is coming by default.” He says proudly. “Speaking of, I have to go meet with him tomorrow to take care of some business. So unfortunately, I won’t be able to train with Megumi. (Name) do you think you could pick him up from school for me tomorrow?”

“The middle schooler you’ve been teaching? Why do I have to do it?” You ask, swaying your hips as you look at him.

“Because~” he sung.

“Because...?”

“He’s been talking about meeting you!” He gleamed.

“Has he really? Are you talking about me behind my back or something? How does the kid even know who I am?” 

“Of course! I’ve told him plenty stories about the all powerful (Name)! The mightiest jujutsu sorceress to date.” He was clearly just trying to flatter you.

“Fine, I’ll pick up the kid.” You roll your eyes.

“Yay~” He says, casually hugging you. He always did that, not that you actually minded. And you knew he knew it got to you every time, hearing him smirk as you push him off. You force back a blush as Suguru speaks.

“That didn’t take much convincing,” he smirks with him a bit.

“I just wanted him to stop talking.” You say, grabbing your purse. You could hear Shoko attempting to stifle a laugh behind you. 

“Anyways, I’ll see you guys later. I have a class to teach.”  You waved goodbye, on your way to cater to the class of second years you were currently responsible for.

You were finally able to relax, feeling like your dancer identity was safe. Now, all you have to do is forget the lap dance and pray to whatever God there is that neither of them would come back. You proceeded to take out your phone and text your club manager, asking for the weekend off. You were lucky she was so lenient. 

The work day lasted longer than you’d liked to, and you hadn’t stayed behind to chat with anyone. Shoko knew you were always keen on going home to shower and relax a bit before your shift at the club.

You were in the club locker room, just barely after 10pm. You wanted to ask Tasty for juicy details on Suguru. You were eager to know if he had texted her or had talked of coming back. Fortunately for you at the same time, she was off today. To you, this decreased the likelihood of seeing the dark haired male and his devilish best friend. That is, if he truly liked her enough to come back.

You were wearing a more revealing set this evening- a suede, pink two piece. You made sure your heel straps were tight enough around your ankles before walking out onto the floor to do your first 10 minute set of the evening. You spun on the pole, climbing gracefully. The higher you went, the more dollars being thrown. You slid down the pole, connecting your body to the floor with a split. You crawled lionlike towards the edge the stage, greeting some of your regulars who sat towards the front. Flipping your body, you get up smoothly ending the routine and collecting your bounty.

As you walked down the stage and made your way towards the bar, you could see the silhouette of a tall, white haired male, speaking to the bartender. His body was turned away from you, and he was ordering a drink as if he just got there. 

You knew it was him. You could recognize his cocky stance just about anywhere. You dropped to the floor, crawling away and earning stares from plenty of your coworkers and customers alike. Oh I’m definitely quitting, you thought.

You managed to crawl back towards the locker room. 

“This cannot become a routine,” you clutched your chest. It felt like you were having another mini heart attack like the night before. Did he just decide this was his new favorite spot? You could’ve sworn you were in the clear. And two days in a row?

He knows, he has to. Should you confront him? Twice was too many times. You almost can picture his smug face out there right now. You’re a bit angry that he had the nerve to come back again, but a portion of you, the little devil inside you- wanted him to watch you dance again.

Then you remembered Shoko’s words. Fake it until you can’t anymore. 

If he wanted to play, then you’d give him exactly what he wanted. You opened your locker, fiddling around through your costumes and head coverings. You took hold of the a pink masquerade mask you had left over from a theme night at the club a few weeks ago. 

“This should do.” You say, sliding on the seductive looking mask and fixing your hair in the the mirror.  You struck a pose, before flipping your hair in satisfaction and strutting out of the room. You walked past a few regulars, and made yourself comfortable by the bar area. You decided you’d dance around everyone but him. 

Satoru took note of your scent first, realizing your feminine force was behind him. He sipped his drink before spinning in his barstool to look at you dancing amongst the other customers. He adjusted his sunglasses, taking in the sight of you.

The set you wore was more revealing than the one from yesterday. He felt like he truly missed out the night before as he watched you drag your hand down the chest of a stranger, feeling a bit envious. His length felt tight in his jeans yet again. But he was a smooth guy, he knew exactly how to make you come to him. 

You noticed him get up from the bar, walking away from where you danced. You couldn’t help but get distracted and anxious. You didn’t want Satoru anywhere you couldn’t see him. You almost jumped when your club’s bouncer, Ravi, approached you in the middle of your mini lap dance. 

“Candy, the tall guy,” he tried not to point, “the white haired one with dark glasses wants a private dance.” Satoru approached the bouncer earlier when he first came in, pre-requesting a dance from you and tipping him a hefty amount for it. Though he’d explained he’d be fine if you declined it, he truly just wanted to see just how far he could get.

You stared at the thick wad of cash that stuck out of the pocket of Ravi’s dress shirt. You knew Satoru had the guts to ask you directly, but it was more so that he was that much of an asshole, who simply wanted you to approach him on your own.

Ravi then pointed loosely with his chin at Satoru, who had been sitting on the sofa on the other side of the club now.

You nodded, assuring Ravi you weren’t going to keep him waiting. You walked slowly towards him, he barely made eye contact with you. 

Fake it until you can’t.

“Hey handsome,” you lean over the railing, displaying your breasts right beside him. He perked up a bit, though he briefly watched you walk towards him beforehand. He sparks a grin, and you can see blue orbs peering ever so slightly over the edges of his glasses. 

“Hey,” he confidently sits back, not even shy about looking at your breasts.

“Have you been here before?” A classic conversation starter, but were you were  attempting to poke fun at the awkward situation. 

“Ahh, yes! Ms. Number One, from the private dancer line up. I was here yesterday with my friend.” He took a sip from his glass. “But I don’t expect you to remember. You’re a very busy, and talented woman.” 

You bite back a blush, “Thank you.” 

“A little birdie told me you wanted a private dance,” you maneuvered around the railing but still leaned against it. 

“Oh yeah,” he preferred not to waste time. He pulled a thick and wrapped stack of cash from his shirt and placed it on the table in front of you. You tried your best to keep your eyes from widening. The currency strap read $5000. 

“A private dance in the private booth costs a hundred.” You felt inclined to remind him as the both the stack and him stared back at you. “And if you wanted the highest package it’s $500 with champagne and refreshments included for the hour, typically for a group.”

“It says that on your website,” he nods, clearly already knowing the information. You almost squint at him before he speaks again.

“Also, I figured I’d pay you enough to go home for the night if you felt like it.” He shrugged. The Gojo family clearly had it well for him to just toss five thousand dollars at a stranger. You shivered when you remembered counting your earnings from the night before, two thirds of the pile being from Satoru. 

A part of you felt like ripping your mask off and asking him to go home. Your awkward silence made him stifle a laugh.

“Candy, baby girl, is somethin’ wrong?”

You knew he knew you were blushing, even with your mask. But you promised yourself one thing after leaving the locker room- you would bring him to his knees. And if  he wanted to play, you’d be sure to win.

“Alright hot stuff, come with me.” You used a finger to slide the stack towards you before picking it up. 

He grinned at you before you brought him to one of the private rooms. Everything was preset up considering Ravi saw you warming him up prior.

Satoru made himself comfortable in the soft velvet cushions and red lighting. You sat beside him, taking hold of one of the champagne bottles from the ice bucket. You popped it open, causing some of the foam to splatter onto your breasts and stomach.

“Whoops,” you said playfully. You always liked to tease with the exclusive dances. He bites his lip while he watches you fill both of your glasses, taking up one soon after.

“Do you guys have candy here?”

“Only mints by the bar. Did you want something sweet?” That’s so like him, you thought.

“Nah, mints don’t count.” He shook his head. “Chocolate anything?”

“We have chocolate-covered strawberries,” you suggest.

“That’ll do,” he clutches one of the heart shaped pillows, flashing smile.

You rung the bell on the wall, speaking into the microphone beside it to make the request before plopping beside him.

“You’ve got me for the hour,” you leant towards him, crossing your legs. “So let’s make it count.”

“I was hoping we could talk for a bit first,” he said, swishing the liquid in his glass. You almost panicked, but quickly spoke up.

“Sure, whatever you want.” You lean your arm on edge of the couch. It wasn’t uncommon for guys to request dances from you just for you to listen to their qualms for the hour. Although, you never pictured Satoru as the type to do so. Actually scratch that— you settled into the sofa, preparing to hear him ramble on about himself. You made sure to keep eye contact with him, making it known you were indeed listening.

“I got a thing for this girl— she’s amazing. She hates me though. Granted, I’ve been an asshole since high school. I think she’s into my best friend, although he promises me it’s nothing like that.”

“Have you tried flirting with her?” Satoru was infamous for being a casual, serial dater. You wondered who she could be. Just because you were in his inner circle didn’t necessarily mean this girl was you or anyone you might’ve known. But you couldn’t help but put yourself into perspective anyway. 

“Yeah, but she’s pretty mean though.” He grinned, “To me.”

“And that makes you happy?” You questioned.

“I mean, obviously it doesn’t.” He clarified, realizing just how crazy he looked in that moment. “Oddly enough, I’d like to think she likes me back a bit.”

“Sounds kiddish right?” He chuckles. “Like is she a middle schooler or something? She’s been playing hard to get for a while now.” 

You twitch your eye a bit, was he really that full of himself? 

“She probably doesn’t like you. You shouldn’t try to read between the lines. Have you ever asked her directly if she does?” You reason, trying to humble him a bit.

“Nah, I guess I’m just afraid to ask her the right way.” He cocked his head back, earning a confused look from you. You never knew Satoru could be afraid of anything. He was seemingly a fearless person and he was the most powerful jujutsu sorcerer to date.

“Could you elaborate?” You poked.

“She’s the only woman whose ever rejected me. Can you believe that?”

You’re partially amused, these truly were the thoughts in his head— you were sure of it.

“What I mean mostly is that I think she’s an idiot,” he chuckled. You almost broke into laughter.

“For rejecting you?” 

“No, no, no— well, maybe. I think she’s incredibly dense. I’ve known her for like 10 years. That or she just tunes out my advances.” He scoffs. 

“Everyone else knows it’s obvious I still like her. I think the reason why I’m never direct with my feelings, or the reason I boil it down to casual flirting is because I’m scared of her rejecting me again.” 

“The first time was when we were both seniors in high school. She told me to try again after I learned some ‘compassion’. It feels like she’s somewhat interested in me. And I hardly think I need to learn anything— but it’s been years since she said that.” He adds.

He hadn’t looked at you the entire time, sort of ogling at his drink before setting it down. 

He was unraveling in front of you, as a complete stranger.

“You get this a lot— the sappy talks, right?”

You nodded, “It’s no big deal.”

“I promise I’m not like this all the time.”

A clearer look inside Satoru’s mind was interesting, to say the least. You don’t think he acted this way on purpose. Perhaps, nothing has pushed him into such a corner for him to begin actively taking people’s feelings into account the way the average person might.

He huffed. “What would you do?”

You pondered for a bit, what would you do? You weren’t sure who the mystery woman he described was but you felt a little jealous, trying to wrap your head around the idea of him being this smitten over someone. He had given you a taste of himself, something he dared not to show you when you weren’t wearing the mask.

“Be direct next time you approach her. Stop playing around so much and tell her how you really feel. Nothing too grand, and try your best to understand her if she rejects you again. You’re a handsome guy, so it won’t be the end of the world if she does.” You explain.

“I don’t mean to sound insensitive by saying that last part either.” You added. Though his head was cocked back, his gaze shifted towards you. He hardly looked worried or sad at all. He shot you a toothy smirk, making you squirm in your seat a bit.

“I know that,” he finally says. There he was again, being his typical arrogant self. “If it doesn’t work out, you’ll see me back here again.”

Dear God, Satoru becoming one of your regulars? You didn’t know if you could handle that. You could just work in a different club. Lord, let this mystery woman scoop him up, and make your life easier. 

The thought of him coming regularly just to see you made you happy sort of, but you found yourself getting jealous for the days you wouldn’t work. Suddenly, you didn’t want anyone else dancing for him. It had to be you.

“Woah, you okay?” He tilted his head towards you. You held your cheeks in your hand. If you were a kettle, you’d physically be steaming.

“You’ve got a cute side, Ms. Candy. That’s precious.” He leant forward, glasses sliding down his nose a bit. No matter how long you’ve known him, he would still give you butterflies just like when you were younger.

The server entered the room, placing the strawberries that he ordered onto the table. You watched him take off his shades and hang them on his shirt.

“Fuck yes,” he grinned, picking up one of the chocolate covered fruits. You watched him take a bite, tugging on your own bottom lip. He slid his tongue between two fingers, blue orbs just barely glinting at you. He hummed in delight as you awed at him. Really, everything about him was perfect aside from his flawed personality. You would’ve been dating him already if you felt he’d be a good boyfriend. He was obviously and unfairly attractive. You were positive the sex would be good too, considering you heard more than satisfactory things. He was tall, and wealthy, and strong and talented. He was just a shitty person sometimes. 

Somehow you liked him all this time, he’s been the only man whose kept your interest. That’s partially because he was persistent, in the most attractive and appealing way. But you’re adults now, maybe you should stop playing around so much. 

Did you even have time to change your mind with this mystery girl in the way?

“I think I’m ready for my dance now,” he said smugly, breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“Of course baby. Just sit back and relax.” You had to remind yourself, you’re Candy right now, and not (Name). 

He sunk back into the sofa, spreading his legs as you got up and positioned yourself in front of him. He spreads his long arms on the head of the sofa, slight smile leaking at the corners of his lips. 

You swayed your body, giving him a show. It was finally happening. You were giving him the very thing you fantasized about since you started dancing. You climbed onto his lap, grinding against him as the music played in tandem with your hips. He seemed elated, and not even remotely ashamed of the growing bulge in his jeans. You were feeling antsy, watching him with his arms sprawled out like that.

“I don’t normally let people touch me during my dances, but you can if you want.” You weren’t supposed to sound so shy when you said it. 

“You’re being extremely generous, I’ll tip you again, for sure baby.”

You felt his large, hot hands connect with your back, running down the smooth skin. You smiled smugly, looking down at him. You grinded against him some more, feeling his bulge confidently poke against your sex.

All you ever wanted was for him to touch you like this. You were mad at yourself for holding out this long— why did his hands feel so good against your bare skin?

Possibly just because you liked him, and that amplified the experience. 

Lost in the moment, you felt your hands run through the smooth fade of his undercut while you humped his lap. The amount of stimulation this gave the both of you was astounding. You heard a soft groan leave his lips, rising color out of your cheeks. 

You brought a finger to the string of your outfits top, pulling it undone and gracing him with the sight of your breasts as you tossed the fabric on the sofa. He was sort of surprised, but his facial expression was nothing short of cocky. It wasn’t the first time a stranger stripped top-less for him, and coincidentally, making panties drop was his hobby.

“Oh~?” 

His voice was terrifically deep, you never knew he could drop an octave this low. You’d usually be talking up a storm, doting on your customers with compliments and saying appropriately reassuring things. The entire experience was weird, having your childhood crush grope you and nuzzle his face into your breasts hadn’t been on your to do list for the evening.

He hummed against the skin in the center of your chest, sending vibrations up your spine.

“I know I’m pushing it, considering this is nothing but a service agreement, but I’d be happy to make you feel good— if you want me to, that is.” 

You looked down at him, knowing the mask you wore couldn’t save you from him noticing the blushing look on your face. 

“Just what do you take me for?” You’re being playful about it, wrapping your arms around his neck so he knows you’re not offended. 

“A hard working woman. I envy the man who gets to spoil you.” 

You couldn’t think of a response, and you assumed he caught on due to the way your lips parted and no sound emerged. 

“Ohh-hoh??? There isn’t one, is there?”

He stole the show from you, and now you’re sitting in his lap like some sort of blushing sheep. 

“That makes me feel sort of special,” he purred, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. You let out a dainty moan, grinding harder against him. You were no longer grinding along with the music, just finding a rhythm that would satisfy the both of you. He grunted at your sudden change in pace, his searing hot breath against your skin.

“Is that a yes?” He asked, nipple between his teeth.

“What about the girl you like?” You found yourself regretting even saying that, considering you were supposed to be a neutral party.

“You jealous?” 

You suck in your bottom lip, barely forming a pout. He truly was an asshole to everyone. It didn’t even matter if someone was on top of him. Before you’re able to say anything, he speaks again.

“Don’t be.” He pressed a sweet kiss to the center of your chest, heightening the crimson hues on your cheeks. His soft lips unfortunately tore from your body when his phone rang. He slipped the thing from his jacket pocket, answering the call. 

“Alright, I’ll be there in 30.” He said finally after following subsequent huffs. He ended the call, looking back up at you with apologetic eyes.

“I’ve gotta cut this short,” he was pained to say it. He was having too much fun. 

“That’s alright.” You say, sliding your leg off him and finding your top.

He stood, straightening his clothes whilst muttering what you barely made out as ‘fuckin’ Nanami’ through his teeth. You almost laughed, as you tied your top back on.

“Candy, baby, I’m sorry. Guess I’ll have to come back again.” He looked too happy to say it.

“Before your confession?” You say smugly. “Or after?”

“No no, I’m a man of my word. I’ll come back only under those conditions I mentioned.” He says.

“I wish you the best of luck.” You say, crossing your legs.

“You’re rooting for me? You really don’t wanna see me again.” He chuckled as he towered over you, his blue gaze now covered by his glasses again.

“I’m always rooting for my customers.” You smile slyly.

His grin softened, and you wish you knew why he was looking at you like that.

“See you around, Ms. Candy.”

He waved goodbye as he exited the room, finally allowing you a some relief. Hopefully this chick doesn’t reject him, you thought.

Even though he probably wouldn’t come back, you thought about quitting and working elsewhere anyway. You tore off your mask, pushing your hair back out of your face.

You really didn’t want to have to wear one of these again.

[intheticklecloset]

Pizza Party (My Hero Academia)

Primary Universe

@kwaiibb I’m trying to @ you but I don’t think it’s working, since your name won’t pop up in the list as I type. Either way, this one’s for you! This is the fic I’d written and planned to have out last Monday, but something about it was really bugging me, so I decided to put it on hold. I ended up rewriting the whole thing, and I like this result much better! I’m very happy with it. Enjoy!

~

Well, this was incredibly awkward.

On the outside Shinsou remained as stoic as ever, but on the inside he was panicking. How did I wind up in this situation? This guy hasn’t liked me since the day we met and now I’m alone with him in Kaminari’s bedroom? What do I even say here? Will he even want to talk to me at all?

“So, uh…” Ojiro finally broke the silence, shifting slightly. Both of them were seated on the floor, waiting for Kami to come back. “How are you adjusting to the hero course?”

“I’m doing all right.” Ask him something in return! “Do you and Kaminari often hang out on your own? I only ask because I never see your class in particular friend groups most of the time.” Not bad, Shinsou.

“We hang out a lot, yeah. Kaminari is kind of friends with everybody. He’s good at being a people person.” Ojiro gave him a tiny smile. “I mean, he even got you to hang out, didn’t he?”

Ouch. Shinsou nodded. “His persistence is contagious, I have to admit.” Silence settled between them again, more crushing than before. Shinsou sighed heavily. “Ojiro, I’m…I’m sorry.”

The blonde blinked at him. “Huh? For what?”

“I used you to my advantage during the sports festival, which made you feel unqualified to continue because you hadn’t earned the slot on your own. Then during my match against Midoriya I called you some unpleasant things. It was only to get him to respond to me, but I still get the feeling you’re upset with me for all of it.” Shinsou bowed his head. “I apologize.”

Ojiro was stunned. This is not what he’d expected when he agreed to hang out with Kaminari and his new friend this evening. “Wow. I mean…thank you, that’s pretty cool of you to say, man. Apology accepted.”

Relief washed over Shinsou. “Thank you.”

At that moment, Kaminari returned in a flurry of motion, kicking open his door while awkwardly balancing a pizza box, some soda cans, and a few plastic cups. “Hey, guys! The pizza party can officially begin!”

Shinsou – being closer to the door – jumped up to help him, taking the soda cans and cups. Together he and Kami cleared a space for their pizza and drinks on his desk. When Ojiro got up to join them, the end of his tail brushed against Kami’s side, and the electric teen jumped back.

“Dude! Watch where you aim that thing,” he teased, pushing the tail aside and poking Ojiro’s ribs in retaliation.

Ojiro grinned. “Wasn’t trying to tickle you. You just got too close.”

“I was here first! You know, that tail of yours could be a serious weapon in a tickle fight. Have you ever thought about that?”

“I’m thinking it now. Maybe it could hold its own against your tickle-shocks, huh, Denki?”

Neither of them seemed to notice that Shinsou had gone silent and was pink in the cheeks. “Um,” he said softly, “there are no plates. Or napkins. I can get some.” He turned to go, but Kami stopped him.

“No, man! You’re our guest! I’ll get them.” He hurried to the door. “Be right back!” And was gone. Again.

Ojiro finally noticed the change in Shinsou’s demeanor. “Hey, Shinsou. You okay?”

The purple-haired boy’s voice came out quieter than normal. “You guys really do have tickle fights a lot?”

The blonde shrugged. “Some of us more than others, but yeah, it’s normal around here. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Shinsou could feel his blush darkening. “No. I don’t mind.”

“You sure? You seem uncomfortable to me.” Ojiro picked up a soda can. “None of us will tickle you until we’ve gotten to know you better, assuming you really are okay with it. If not, we won’t touch you. You just have to set your boundaries. Iida hates it, so we all respect that and leave him alone.”

“I don’t mind,” Shinsou repeated, reaching for a soda of his own. “Kaminari has already tickled me once.”

This time, the silence was different.

“Oh?” The teasing tone in Ojiro’s voice set Shinsou on edge. “I see.” When he glanced at him again, the blonde wore a smirk and there was a mischievous glint in his eye. “So when you say you don’t mind it, it’s like when Midoriya says he doesn’t mind it.”

Lost. Shinsou was completely lost. “W-What does that mean?”

“He told us from the beginning he didn’t mind being tickled, but it was pretty obvious right away that he actually liked it.” Ojiro tilted his head, still smirking. “Does that sound about right?”

Kaminari returned once again, plates in hand, and Shinsou could not be more relieved for a break in the odd tension that had begun to form between him and Ojiro. “Got the plates!”

“And the napkins?” Shinsou said without thinking, immediately regretting it.

“Aw, crap!”

“I can get them—”

“Nuh-uh! Stay!” Denki grinned at them and left once again.

Shinsou swore he was doing this on purpose somehow. When he looked at Ojiro this time, he saw the blonde setting his soda can down, still with that smirk on his face. In a blind panic, the boy from 1-C dropped his unopened can on the ground and dove for him, tackling him to the floor and grabbing onto the first ticklish spot he could find.

“Gah! Hehehehehehey!” Ojiro sputtered, grinning. “Oh, so you lihihihihike doing the tihihihickling? I gehehehet it.”

“N-No, it’s not…” Shinsou cursed himself for getting so flustered, but then decided to embrace the opportunity and straddle the blonde, letting his hands fly everywhere he could, making Ojiro finally lose that smirk and start giggling. “You know what? Yeah. I do like doing the tickling.” And taking it, but we can cross that bridge later. Way later. “Now you’re going to regret provoking me.”

“Provohohohohoking you?” Ojiro’s giggles rose in pitch when Shinsou focused on his stomach, so he stayed there for a bit. “I wahahahahahas only teheheheheheasing. Whahahahahat, can’t tahahake me pohohoking a little fuhuhuhun?”

“You were about to tickle me.” Shinsou started pressing harder, drifting to his sides now.

“Yohohohohou were practically ahahahahasking for it.”

“What?”

“Come ohohohon, you’re so obviohohohohous.” Ojiro looked up at him with that big, tickle-induced smile and teased, “I knohohohohohow that lohohohohook. You’re juhuhuhuhust like M-Midoriya.”

Shinsou had no idea why he kept being compared to that green-haired boy, but he felt a sudden urge to get a little rougher. He shoved his hands into Ojiro’s underarms and dug in deep, and finally the blonde lost his cocky attitude when he threw his head back and laughed.

“GAH!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

“No, you know what? I don’t think I will.” Shinsou smirked, keeping it up, enjoying how Ojiro squirmed helplessly beneath him. “You’ve been teasing me far too much. I think you deserve some punishment for that.”

“YOU DESEHEHEHEHEHERVE IT!!”

“How, pray tell?”

“YOU OWE MEHEHEHEHEHE!!”

“For what?”

“FOR R-RUHUHUHINING MY CHAHAHAHANCES AT THE FEHEHEHEHESTIVAL!!”

Shinsou stopped suddenly, sitting back, frowning. “I said I’m sorry—”

In a flash, Ojiro used his tail to help propel him upwards, effectively knocking Shinsou onto his back so he could reverse their positions. Once the taller boy was straddled, the blonde pinned his wrists above his head and smirked. “That was far too easy. I can only assume that you do enjoy it, at least a little.” Ojiro started poking his sides and ribs. “Am I right?”

Shinsou squirmed, already giggling softly, his face a dark pink color. “I-I…w-wahahahait, Ojiro…!” Ojiro merely flashed him a smile and dug in a little harder. Shinsou jerked, giggles flowing out of him freely now. “Ah! Wahahahahahait, wait! Ojirohohohoho!”

He’d been hoping the blonde would continue teasing him, but the smug look on Ojiro’s face told him that wasn’t going to happen. He thinks I’ll brainwash him if he responds to me now, Shinsou thought, the idea sobering him even as he giggled helplessly. It’s just like with everything else. Everyone’s afraid I’ll use my quirk on them outside of combat.

“Plehehehehease, Ojiro,” Shinsou sputtered, shoving his embarrassment aside for the sake of showing his old rival he wasn’t a threat in this situation. “Dohohohohohon’t just stahahahahay quiet lihihike thahahahahahat. It r-reheheheheally sucks!”

Ojiro quirked a brow, showing he was listening but still not speaking, not giving in to what he thought was another trap.

“I wohohohohon’t brahahahahainwash you, I swehehehehear!” Shinsou hated that he couldn’t even cover his face to hide his blush, since his wrists were still pinned above him. “I swehehehehear, just plehehehehease dohohohohon’t tihihihihickle me without sahahahahahaying anything!”

“If you’re lying…” Ojiro hedged.

“I’m nohohohohohot!” Shinsou’s giggles grew a little lighter, encouraged that he was at least being given a chance. “Plehehehehehease!”

Finally, the blonde broke out into another smirk. “Well, now. So not only do you like being tickled, you like being teased, too, huh?” Shinsou wanted to groan, but it came out as more of a giggly whine. “You do? Well, then, allow me!” Ojiro poked and prodded all along his torso, searching for a stronger reaction. “Tickle, tickle, tickle~ Let’s see if you have a good spot~”

This time Shinsou knew what he meant, and the sound that escaped him was the clearest excited whimper he’d ever allowed past his lips. He squirmed and giggled under Ojiro’s experimental touches, moving around a little more the closer he got to said “spot.” When the blonde finally reached it, however, he jolted and let out a pleading, “No!”

“Oh? Here?” Ojiro latched onto the cry and started squeezing now, making Shinsou begin to really struggle, laughter bubbling in the back of his throat. Ojiro grabbed onto both hips and dug in. “Oh, yes. I think here is a great spot!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Shinsou couldn’t hold back the explosion of laughter that left him as his hands flew down instinctively to push at his attacker. He writhed and kicked, but his smile couldn’t be more genuine. “NOHOHOHOHOHO, PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!”

“Aw, what’s the matter? Can’t take it here?” Ojiro chuckled, switching to kneading. “Tickle, tickle, tickle! Whoa!” Shinsou bucked his hips, nearly making the blonde lose his balance. “This really is a good spot! Ha! Consider this revenge for using me in the sports festival!”

“I’M SORRYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE!!” Shinsou shrieked, growing increasingly flustered from all the teasing and the focus on his hips. He couldn’t control his reactions at all, and the loud laughter and thrashing he was doing made him feel a little self-conscious despite how much fun it all was. “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! STAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAP!!”

Ojiro kept up his ticklish assault for another couple of minutes, grinning at the mess he’d made of Class 1-C’s quiet loner. This really did feel satisfying, even if his jab about revenge had been made purely in jest. After a solid two minutes of relentlessly tickling that spot and forcing a few more hysterical pleas from his old rival, Ojiro let up his attack.

Shinsou rolled onto his side, still giggling, his smile plastered to his face. Ojiro laughed. “Have fun?”

“Y-Yeah,” Shinsou admitted, covering his face in embarrassment. “You must think I’m ridiculous, though.”

Ojiro lunged for him again, poking along his sides and stomach. “I do not. Plenty of my friends like being tickled. You’re no different from them. Take it back. Take it back. Take it—”

“Okay, okahahahahay, I tahahahahake it back!” Shinsou squealed, pushing him away. He shakily sat up, blushing. “Well…Kaminari did say I’d fit right in, I suppose. This isn’t how I was expecting this evening to go, but…I could get used to it.”

Ojiro grinned, then suddenly realized, “Hey, where is Kaminari? He should have been back with those napkins by now.”

Just then the door opened, and Kami walked in with a handful of paper towels from the downstairs kitchen, grinning from ear to ear. “Did you guys work everything out? Are you friends now?”

They both stared at him.

Shinsou spoke first. “Y-You were just…standing outside that whole time?”

“Well, I didn’t want to interrupt, so yeah.” Kami winked at him. “Sounds like you had a good time, though.”

Ojiro groaned. “You are such a dork, Denki.”

“Maybe,” Denki replied, still with that megawatt grin in place. “But I’m a dork with napkins for our pizza party! And I bet you’re both even hungrier now that you’ve had some exercise.” He laughed in response to the withering stares he got for his comment. “I thought so. Let’s eat!”

[luvlyrv]

A Promise Under the Stars | Irene x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, idol au-ish but not really(?), romance is not extremely explicit

Summary: When you get to meet Joohyun again, you think back about a promise you two made long ago.

Word Count: 1.8k

A/N: Whew. First Irene writing that I’m posting as a stand-alone rather than a part of a series. Also can I say thank you for two of my posts reaching 100 notes within the same week? My very first fic, ‘Second Place’ and ‘Troublemaker’ seem to be very popular, thank you so much fhksadjhfk,

Date: 2/19/21

You collapse on the ground, all your energy expended during several hours of practice. Lying down you can feel the wooden floor under you, your heart pounding as loud as your breathing. As much as you physically feel pain, there was a greater pain building in your heart and mind. Will you ever make it? You've been waiting so long now, how much longer?

With nobody around tears threaten to emerge from your eyes, but the moment is lost when you hear a soft creak. Quickly, you compose yourself just enough to make sure no tears fall. You don't bother turning your head to look at who it was, instead staring at the ceiling as you hear footsteps growing nearer and nearer to your body. Finally, a familiar face emerges from the corner of your eyes. The girl leans over your face, smiling at the sight of you exhausted and sweaty.

"I figured you'd be here." She says teasingly.

"When am I not?" You say as your breathing starts to become steady again.

The girl offers you her small hands and you accept. She helps you on your feet, and when you're finally standing up on your own she doesn't let one of your hands go.

"Wanna cool down with a walk?" She asks you. You lazily nod your head, following behind as your friend, Joohyun.

She takes you outside the building, continuing to walk hand in hand on the sidewalk. You don't know where you're going, but frankly you don't care. Joohyun's mere presence is enough for you to calm down, to feel comfortable and safe. So you take the time to enjoy the feeling of her hand in yours, the night air passing by your skin, and the sound of your footsteps against the pavement. The silence between the two of you making you feel happy.

Eventually the two of you reach a swing set. She let's go of your hand and sits on one, tilting her head to tell you to sit on the one next to her. You go ahead and sit down, gently kicking the ground to create a soft sway. Joohyun does the same with her two hands holding onto the chains holding up the seat. You stare at your feet until Joohyun speaks up again.

"Look up at the sky. It's beautiful, isn't it?" You listen to her command and turn your head up.

You're quite literally star-struck for a moment, a smile appearing on your face as you admire the sky. You've seen the sky and the stars nearly every day of your life. It's the same sky as always, yet somehow on this night it stir something inside you.

"Sometimes I forget how good it is to be living, I let all the beautiful things pass me by." You admit to your friend. You stop looking at the sky, instead turning to face Joohyun. Your eyes follow the outline her side profile as you admire the amazement glazing over her eyes, the curve of her nose, the way her lips pursed together. The nighttime casts her in darkness but the moon gives her an ethereal glow. She stops looking at the stars to give you a smile similar to yours, a smile filled with endearment.

"It's nice isn't it? I come here a lot, just to recollect myself most of the time. It's my space. One where I can exist without worry, without trying to change myself." She says it as she recalls the many nights where she wanted to cry, the nights where she found herself walking here without thinking about it. "I wanted to share it with you though. You seem more stressed recently..." Her soft voice suddenly became laced with worry. You sigh before you start talking again.

"I guess I'm getting bad at hiding it." You try to joke. "I've been training for so long, you know? I've seen so many people leave. So many switch companies, so many debut. Sometimes I wonder if the last several years have been a waste. I don't wanna grow up with this kind of regret." Joohyun looks down dejectedly for a bit at your response.

"I know." She whispers. "I've been feeling the same thing. Sometimes I doubt I even belong. I don't know if this dream is achievable anymore."

You look down, not quite sure what you could possibly say to comfort the both of you. As another wave of silence envelopes the conversation, you kick a nearby pebble, watching it skid as you begin to launch yourself off the ground harder. You feel weightless as you get higher and higher, a little free even, from this restrictive life you live.

Joohyun sticks to the ground, not enjoying the idea of being at such a high height. Still, she begins to smile at the sight of you having at least some sort of fun. Things continue like this, the both of you contemplating different things in the silence under the same worries.

"Hey Y/N." Joohyun breaks the silence by calling for you. You're still staring at the stars as you swing in the air.

"What?"

"Slow down for a minute." You listen to your friend and start to slow down your momentum. When you're finally settled, Joohyun leans over from her swing with her hand out. She has her pinky finger raised while you look at her in confusion. "How about we do it?"

"Do what?"

"Let's complete our dreams. Together." You chuckle a bit at her sudden childish-ness that was different from her mature nature. Despite how out of character it was though, you couldn't help but feel appreciative for the act anyways. You stick out your hand and wrap your pinky around hers.

"Alright. Our little promise, between just the two of us."

"I know I can do it if I have you by my side." A pink hue paints itself on Joohyun's cheeks, complimenting the adorable smirk she gave you. Your heart pounds a little and you laugh at her.

"Since when were you so childish and greasy?"

"I don't know, since whenever it could make you smile like that?" You look away, feeling warmth flood your face.

"Whatever." You scoff light-heartedly.

For the past several weeks you felt like you were in a rut. Motivation draining away from you. Your promise with Joohyun though, her words, her loving voice, everything about her made you want to stay. Perhaps now you can complete your dream.

*

*

You're waiting in line, a smile is plastered on your face that you can't seem to wipe off. Finally, you can see her again.

You can still remember the day she told you she would debut. There was a part of your heart that hurt, but otherwise you were ecstatic for her. Of course out of consideration she tried not to talk about it much, but you assured her it was something that was worth celebrating. That it was an event and feeling you wanted to share between the two of you.

Things didn't turn out as planned. You kept training, but seeing Joohyun debut with seemingly no results for another year was disheartening enough to make you quit. It also didn't help that as Joohyun got busier, the two of you got to talk and hang out less and less. Everyday you would compulsively check your phone, only to be gifted a response on a rare occasion.

After your trainee years you moved on in your life, getting a higher education and joining a career that you found pleasure in. As you focused on your career though, you also found yourself with less and less time. It seemed like at some point Joohyun changed her number and forgot to tell you. For some reason it left you feeling a bit heartbroken. Although she wasn't really a part of your life anymore your memories with her graced your thoughts often.

Now though, as time has passed, your work life has settled down more. You've earned some money and took some vacation time to attend a very, very important event.

The person in front of you finally moves and you're face to face with Yerim, a girl you spent a lot of time with under the same company. She looks up at you with a smile and a face filled with both surprise and recognition. She signs your album before gently nudging the member next to her.

You move on in the line to meet Seulgi. She's happy that Yerim caught her attention to tell her you were here. She gives you a familiar smile and thanks you for coming to see the group. You get your album signed by her and two other members who you didn't get acquainted with during training until you reach the end of the table.

There she was, Bae Joohyun, the person you were closest with during those grueling years training. As soon as you're standing in front of her your heart threatens to jump out of your throat. When your eyes meet you almost feel like crying.

"Hey." You barely get the word to leave your mouth. The sound could hardly escape the tightening of your throat. Judging by the look on her face, it seemed like Joohyun was overwhelmed with feelings too, nearly wanting to cry. Instead she gives a light laugh.

"I've missed you." She says. Maybe it's in your imagination, but she's staring at you so dreamily. You don't know what to say, so you decide to just be honest.

"I've missed you too. I've been waiting for this day." You pause for a second before continuing. "I'm sorry I didn't make it." Joohyun shakes her head at your apology.

"Don't be. As long as you're happy with where you are now then I'm happy too." She gives you her signature smile that had always managed to comfort you.

"Let's make a new promise." Once again she sticks out her pinky finger at you. You take it without hesitation. "Let's talk. Like old times." Even though you haven't talked to each other properly in years, the feeling of her pinky and yours made you feel just as close as you were back in those days.

The staff are ushering you to go, the moment the two of you were sharing was holding up the line for too long. Quickly, Joohyun signs your album and you notice that she opens it and scribbles something inside. Could she have possibly written a message for you?

When go arrive home you admire the album with signatures strewn across it. The question that you had for the entire day though was what Joohyun wrote inside of it. Within the privacy of your home you finally felt safe to open and check.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

let's stay together this time ♥

[obeyme-kaidii-writes]

Emotional

(Lyric free vers.)

Mammon x gn!MC

Words - 1800ish

Content warnings - light angst, lots of cuddles and comfort

Prompt/inspiration - anon request, based on “Emotional” by Diana DeGarmo

Summary - After a terrible day at RAD, you hide out in your room while Mammon tries to figure out what’s wrong.

AO3

NOTE - My husband reads all my stories, and as soon as he finished this one he immediately told me the pacing was bad because of the lyrics. Which, man, harsh 😭. But that’s what he’s there for - to give me feedback even if I might not want to hear it. So here’s a second copy of the same story, just with the lyrics removed. ☺️ You can find the original version here.

Today had been a long day. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but for whatever reason, anytime someone so much as looked at you funny, you felt like crying. The voices in your head whispering to you that they were watching you, judging you.

Mammon had tried on several occasions to pull you aside, but you successfully managed to slip away each time. Normally you were so grateful for his company, but today you just knew that if he asked you if you were okay you were going to lose it.

And you absolutely did not want to lose it in the middle of RAD.

You flopped onto your bed, now in the safety of your room, curling up on yourself and pulling your comforter around you. Finally you were able to let out all the stress that had been holding onto. And just as you started to cry, a loud KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK on your door shocked you back to your senses.

“Hey, open up! You’ve been avoidin’ me all day.”

It was Mammon.

Not even taking a moment to think about what you actually wanted, you snapped at him.

“GO AWAY.”

As soon as the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Your tone was sharper than you had intended, but not only that, you didn’t really want him to leave. Part of you wanted him to wrap you up in one of his hugs and just hold you while you fell to pieces in his arms. However, you learned a long time ago that only babies cried. If you were strong, you wouldn’t cry so much. That crying was a burden on and an annoyance to everyone around you.

The silence that followed made your heart break. You couldn’t tell if you were more sad at the idea that you had hurt Mammon’s feelings or more hurt that he seemed to have just left you without even trying to figure out what’s wrong. If he cared, surely he would have been more persistent, right? And you knew that was a ridiculous thing to think, manipulative even, but you couldn’t help those feelings that coiled around your heart.

Resolving to spending the evening alone, you laid back down, curling up as small as possible once again. As your thoughts wandered, and your tears fell, you slowly started to drift off to sleep. You didn’t notice when your bedroom door opened. You didn’t notice the smell of hot chocolate wafting into your room. And you didn’t notice the dip in your mattress as someone climbed in beside you.

In fact, it wasn’t until you felt an arm slip around your waist and a kiss on the exposed skin of your neck that you finally started to become aware of what was going on around you.

“Hey,” Mammon whispered as he settled down in your bed, spooning you from behind.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your body stiffen involuntarily. Why was he here? Had he seen your face? Did he know you had been crying? Tears silently slipped down your face again as you started to panic internally. What was he going to say when he realized?

“I ain’t goin’ anywhere until ya tell me what’s wrong.”

“I...umm…” you wanted to answer him. Make an excuse. Offer some sort of rational explanation for why you were hiding in your room and had been avoiding him all day. Something told you just saying “there’s something in my eye” wasn’t going to fool him.

“Tch, always gotta be so difficult,” Mammon said. You felt his arms release you as he sat up and moved to the edge of the bed. If you thought you had been anxious before when he was laying beside you, it was nothing compared to the feeling of him leaving, with the words “difficult” echoing in your ears.

“Here. Sit up.”

But before your thoughts got to turn too dark, Mammon was sitting beside you again. Poking you with his elbow as he nudged you in the back. So surprised were you to find that he was still there and hadn’t left, you turned around immediately to look at him.

Despite his dark skin tone, you could tell he was blushing, and even if you couldn’t, his refusal to look at you would have been more than enough to confirm that he was feeling embarrassed. Your gaze slowly traveled downward until it landed on the tray he was holding in his outstretched hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, puzzled at why Mammon was offering you a mug of hot chocolate, and what appeared to be...cookies…? Only they were slightly burnt, and you weren’t sure you recognized the ingredients he had added in lieu of chocolate chips.

“What’s it look like? I had some extra and thought you might want some. But if ya don’t appreciate it…”

Not wanting to discourage Mammon, you quickly sat up, wiping whatever tears remained on your face away, and took the tray from him.

“...thanks.”

He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye as you studied his gift, smirking at your response.

Once you were situated with your back against your headboard, you placed the tray in your lap and Mammon sat down beside you. He grabbed his mug of hot chocolate, taking a sip as he waited for your reaction. He was pretty impressed with the results of his baking skills, and was certain the treats would put a smile on your face.

You reached for one of the cookies, a soft smile playing on your lips as you took a bite.

“So? How was it? Good right?”

When you didn’t answer, Mammon gave you another nudge with his arm.

“Right?”

Without a word, you returned the cookie to your plate, picking up the cup of hot chocolate instead, taking a deep gulp in an attempt to cleanse your palate.

“Mammon...honey...that was awful…” you looked at him over the rim of your mug, taking another deep swallow. At least the hot chocolate was delicious.

“Whattya talkin’ about?! They’re perfect!” Mammon replied, quick to shove what remained of your first cookie into his mouth. You continued to watch him while sipping on your beverage, slowly now that the initial foul aftertaste seemed to have been gone.

You tried your best to hide the smile that was threatening to spread over your whole face as Mammon froze mid bite, glancing at the plate of cookies, then at you, then back to the cookies, before finally chugging down what remained of his own mug of hot chocolate, desperate to rid his mouth of every last crumb.

When his mug emptied, you offered him your own, laughing at his reaction.

“Shaddup,” he snapped, eagerly taking the cup from you and polishing off its contents. But he wasn’t mad. Not at all. He was relieved and overjoyed to see you smiling again, interacting with him and no longer pushing him away.

When he finished what remained of your drink, he took the tray from you, sitting it on the floor beside your bed, before turning back to you and wrapping you up in a tight hug. Now much more relaxed than you had been, you wrapped your arms around his waist, returning the gesture and burying your face in his chest.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you.”

“It's fine. Don’t worry about it,” he reassured you, “Are ya gonna tell me what happened now?”

You nodded against him, tightening your arms around him as you clung to him.

“I just...I don’t know...had a bad day, I guess. Everything made me just want to cry. And I know it’s ridiculous. I’m an adult. I should…”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Huh?”

“With cryin’. What’s wrong with that? Ain’t ya the one that told me it was ok to let it all out?” Mammon had leaned back now, resting against your headboard, pulling you up against himself as he began to rub your back, pressing an occasional kiss to your forehead.

“I...uh...well, I just...I’ve always been told I cry too much. I’m too emotional. Like little things that wouldn’t bother anyone, upset me. And I didn’t want to annoy you...so I…”

“Dummy. I dunno know why you’d think I’d feel that way. You never act like that with me.”

Mammon gave you a reassuring squeeze, and yet another kiss to the top of your head. All you could do in response was hold him tighter, pulling your legs up so that you were practically sitting in his lap by now.

You weren’t sure why it hadn’t occurred to you before. You honestly never saw the connection. And if you stopped and thought about it, Mammon had easily cried more times in front of you since you had arrived in the Devildom than you had cried at all (in public or private) during your stay.

You always reassured him, and comforted him. You never laughed at him, or thought for one second that he was a burden for opening up to you. In fact, you never felt more loved than when he would let you see that sensitive, emotional, side to himself because you knew how much it meant that he trusted you.

Why did you ever think he wouldn’t treat you with the same love and care you had always shown him?

[saikikissuo]

For the model Saimami and Oumota au, do it. Do it you coward. Feed me with headcanons and I will slurp them.

smirks and rubs hands together

for oumota, kokichi is actually a semi-popular streamer who plays genshin and minecraft a lot

he’s popular because he’s deceitful as fuck on minecraft and he’s insanely good at genshin

electro user kokichi..thoughts

but anyways kokichi used to never do facecam but soon enough he started to warm up to the idea and later, he began to do facecam when he was comfortable :)

kokichi lives alone, his fans are aware of this ( thanks to a q&a )

but every now and then his chat would hear some shuffling around in the background and doors shutting and they’d be like Wtf

kokichi is like yeah my apartment is actually haunted

everyone just kinda brushes it off

until One day.

kokichi is playing genshin or whatever and his facecam is placed to where the door of his bedroom is visible

they’re chilling honestly. just vibing

all of a sudden the bedroom door opens and in steps this TALL DARK AND HANDSOME MAN

chat loses their shit because WHOOO??!?:?$:)3?

he’s stepping in to ask kokichi where his hair gel is. because he stole it of course

kokichi kinda regrets it because then he’s gotta play this off with his chat

it wouldn’t be THAT bad if the mysterious tall dark and handsome man didn’t go “thanks, babe!” before walking out

kokichi is sick and tired.

when he turns back to look at the chat they’re all going bonkers

you could really only see his legs and his chest, but it was still a stark contrast to kokichi nonetheless

kokichi almost blushed on stream. almost

“yeah guys that was uh. that was the ghost”

“..why did he call me babe? the ghost and i have a very intimate relationship that’s why”

later on twitter he reveals that yes, the ghost is in fact his boyfriend

and that just made everything ten thousand times more chaotic

“KOKICHI’S BOYFRIEND IS KAITO?? THE MAGAZINE COVER MODEL????”

“yeah poggers isn’t it”

kaito makes appearances on his stream and it’s so cute because he sucks ass at genshin but finds every discovery on minecraft amazing

“KICHI LOOK THE DOG IS FOLLOWING ME AROUND”

[ while killing creepers around their house ] “yeah, they do that kaito”

and now....saimami....

saimami have a slightly different story

rantaro games sometimes but he’s also just kind of a lifestyle youtuber

his channel is very diverse

he does fashion reviews, travel vlogs, and gameplays!

his travel vlogs used to include just himself, but for a while he settled down in japan because he was Tired so it’s been gameplays and fashion vids from there on out

he met kokichi that way, actually

anyways, before he officially settled down in japan he would make travel vlogs on visiting the sights and all that good shit

but after a while..there would be a special guest who would always hide his face when the camera was on him

they called him rantaro’s goth bf and he would always blush and say that they “weren’t wrong that he might be a little goth, but we’ll see”

rantaro would often play video games with his friends and on streams, he would pause for a moment to look off to the side and speak super softly

everyone thought it was so cute..like they’d never heard rantaro do that before until then and it would appear in rantaro compilations on youtube HAHAH

that’s how people ended up thinking he had a partner though, because sometimes he would just look away from the stream to mumble goodnight or to say bye

later on, he finally made it public that he did in fact have a partner!!

they had recently moved in together and thought it was only appropriate to tell the Fans

he had a boyfriend who said he was a little nervous being on camera so he would just. stick his hand in front and wave sometimes

“his name is shuichi, but save all the cute nicknames for me. he won’t be joining us that much”

“give me all the cute nicknames and call rantaro ugly ones he deserves it cause he ate the yogurt i left in the fridge”

he’d say hi and start little banter with rantaro on occasion but that’s kinda all they got

until...One Day

on stream rantaro was going over some recent purchases, showing off some new clothes and bla bla

what’s new though was that he said he had a new model to help him show off the clothes

he called shuichi in and turned the camera to face him wearing one of the oversized jackets he got ( which looked absolutely precious on him mind you )

once again chat went BALLISTIC

because??? although he looked different they KNEW who that was

shuichi saihara, also known as one of the most-appearing models for top-quality suits and other formalwear for multiple brands

alongside kaito he was one of the more popular models you see on magazine covers

rantaro’s chat was going BONKERS

“WDYM SHUICHI IS RANTARO’S BOYFRIEND.....”

“pain.”

“are we surprised. rantaro is gorgeous”

“i have seen two pretty boyfriends”

so on and so forth.

shuichi noticed all of the comments and laughed a little bit

mainly because he felt a little nervous but rantaro just told him it was okay

“this basically means they like you”

“oh..well..i’m glad. :)”

chat explodes with little heart emojis and kissy faces

everyone is in love with shuichi saihara. everyone

not to mention that he and kaito often appeared together

plus rantaro and kokichi would stream together sometimes???

everyone gets psyched whenever they stream together and it is so cute

unlike oumota, rantaro doesn’t intentionally fuck up shuichi’s vibe when he’s teaching him how to play a game

like genshin, for example

funny thing is, i think shuichi would immediately have better luck and would be way better at rantaro at some games almost instantly

“okay shuichi so to get all of them at the same time y-“

[ all of them are dead by the time he finished the sentence ] “don’t worry i’ve got it”

rantaro..is strangely endeared by that

i like to think that people often tweet at kaito and r like “when are we getting a photoshoot with you and kokichi!!”

and kaito is like “kokichi will step on my toes mid shoot and i will cry. i’ve given specific instructions to not let that man anywhere near our photoshoot locations”

both couples have their own kinds of photoshoots anyways

oumota takes photos of their vacations, going out to meet up with rantaro and shuichi during the summer time

shuichi takes photos of he and rantaro together while they’re baking and the final results

shuichi is not good at baking. rantaro is.

either way..oumota and saimami in this au are friends and they are BEST friends. no further comment!

[nobodyfamousposts]

Mominette AU: The Superhero Ban

TRIGGER WARNING!

TRIGGER WARNING!

TRIGGER WARNING!

___________________________________________

It was an indisputable fact that Paris had been the first city to institute the infamous “Supers Ban”. The Justice League knew it. Heroes knew it. Villains knew it. The whole world knew it.

What nobody knew was “why”.

Sure, there had been comments in political circles. Some minor news outlets had mentioned Paris as the latest place where the idea was being considered. But nobody had thought they were serious.

Not until it had been made into law and the Mayor of Paris held a press conference to announce it.

Those who didn’t take it seriously certainly did when Superman himself attempted to go to the Mayor to discuss the matter. And was promptly arrested the instant he set foot in the city.

Outrage was immediate. Cries of discrimination rang out across the world and even at the UN. Various politicians decried the act. Many celebrities admonished it. A good number of people threatened to boycott Paris (which turned out to be for the best as far as Andre and most of Paris was concerned, given that a decrease in tourism meant less people for Hawk Moth to target or the heroes to have to pull out of the fray due to gawking).

Yet a year passed and the ban remained. Even the League would not cross it. Eventually, it just became an accepted fact of the world. Everyone knew to stay out of Paris.

And yet it was still unknown as to why.

Well, people suspected, of course. There were other things happening around the time that seemed to be involved.

It possibly started with the 12 hour timeframe where all of Paris had been closed off. Its citizens had been forced to evacuate. All communication lines were down, and no one from outside of the city had been able to contact anyone from within it. It was news stations in nearby cities that picked up on the fighting and tried to report it, but only several hours after it had started and they seemed to play it off as some sort of freak lighting storm.

Afterwards, things had been strange, but also easily overlooked. The Ladyblogger had gone dark for a several day period. Similarly, the regular correspondent for Paris News, Nadja Chamack had taken a leave of absence. Resident hero Chat Noir had suddenly gotten involved in matters with City Hall, resulting in talk of the hero going into a career in politics. “Chat Noir for President” became a short-lived meme.

It all appeared to come down to a specific “incident”. An akuma fight worse than any other before it. But no one would speak of it. And no information about it was available.

Except for one thing.

There were reports of the existence of video footage of the fight. The Ladyblog had supposedly crashed during a livestream of the mess due to the number of people watching it. Plenty of news reports during that time referenced it. It was rumored to have been played before the city council, resulting in unanimous support of the ban. But what was on the video remained a mystery and any remnant of the video itself couldn’t be found.

Which shouldn’t be possible with the internet. Conspiracy theories abound on the matter—some saying there was no footage in the first place and others saying it was so horrible as to have been erased by time traveling aliens.

In truth, it was the work of a hacker. One of considerable skill to wipe out any trace of this video and not be discovered. There were people willing to pay millions just for a segment of the footage. Plenty of hackers across the world had tested their skills to find even a trace of the original video to no avail.

These other hackers were not Robin.

“I got the footage.” He announced as he held up the USB drive.

Superbly started in surprise, staring at the item in the Boy Wonder’s hand. “This is it?”

“Supposedly.” Robin replied with a shrug.

The Holy Grail of hidden data. A hacker’s ultimate prize. Every journalist and tabloid reporter’s wet dream.

“I haven’t watched it myself,” as he felt it wasn’t his right to intrude on this when it was an issue of his friend’s family, “so I don’t know what’s on there. But whatever’s in this, it’s safe to say it isn’t going to be pretty.”

That was putting it lightly. The video had been so deeply hidden that it was its own urban legend at this point. The incident it showed was bad enough to not only warrant it being hidden from the world, but to set off the “Paris Supers Ban” and arrest of Superman.

The death of a hero was always big news. Even if it’s only barely avoided.

The fact that anyone could HIDE it spoke volumes. Both in regards to the original censor’s ability as well as the importance of the data itself.

Conner nodded, resolute.

“I need to know.”

Robin handed over the device. He probably should have taken it to Batman…probably. But this was Conner’s case. His family. It was his right to decide what to do with the information.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were…accepting of Conner to say the least. They allowed him to enter Paris despite the ban. They let him help. They were kind and accommodating and quite frankly everything that Conner needed.

But…they weren’t exactly open. Not about certain things.

This was one of those things, and Conner had been wanting answers about the “Incident” that cut Paris off from the Superhero world. What made them finally say “enough”? He would ask, but nobody knew. The few who did know refused to speak of it.

Conner wanted to know why. What had they experienced that was so horrible?

Maybe it was a way of feeling closer to them?

Maybe it was a way to understand them better?

Maybe it was just wanting to see the harder things they had faced?

“We’ll be right here with you, Conner.” Wally reassured him when his hands started to shake.

“Remember, you’ll have full access of the gym and training grounds, but you won’t be allowed to leave the Mountain for 24 hours after this.” Kaldur gently stated. Partly to remind Conner of the agreement, lest he attempt to run off to Paris in anger or fear and risk an akuma. Partly to subtly prompt everyone else to ensure that Conner does not accomplish the former.

Still…the choice was already clear.

Conner put the drive into the computer and pressed play.

The video only lasted a few minutes.

A few minutes was more than enough.

_______________________

“Oh…oh my god.” Came the words of the person recording, her voice as shaky as her hands that held the camera.

The damage was…extensive. Rubble, broken glass, and downed buildings littered the background. There was a sad mix of gray and brown as far as the eye could see. Of the destroyed roads and pavement. Of steel beams littering the ground. Of rock and dirt and what may very well have been ash.

Amidst the ruined landscape, there was one spot of color. A bright red standing out amidst the muted neutral around her. Normally a source of bravery and inspiration, it took a few seconds for the camera to get her properly in focus, and a few more for it to register that there was significantly more red in the scene than there should have been.

Ladybug wasn’t standing so much as she was leaning backwards in a half-upright position. Forced to stay on her legs despite her clear lack of strength. The only thing holding her up were the very things responsible for her current state…three steel spikes that extended from the ground beneath her.

They were exiting her torso. One piercing the upper left part of her body, right close to her shoulder. One through her naval. And the third on the right side, for all purposes appearing to have hit a lung.

She was breathing, though it was clearly labored. She was constantly torn between some variation of taking a gasping breath in and crying it out. Her suit could protect her—it was supposed to protect her from anything, but even this was too much.

It was clear she couldn’t move. She had to remain there, impaled on steel. Both to limit her injuries as much as possible and just due to inability from the sheer pain she was in.

The camera was focused on her, though it was shaky at best. The person recording it could be heard muttering unintelligibly with some mention of a hospital and frequent repetition of “oh god” thrown in. Some noise could be heard in the background of someone sounding quite ill, which was understandable given the sight of their hero impaled and choking on her own blood.

Within a minute of the video starting, the crunching sound of boots running on glass and stones could be heard coming closer. The sound of panting grew louder as Chat Noir cleared a hill and entered into view, rushing and stumbling towards Ladybug while holding something in front of him.

The camera zoomed on him, bringing him into focus as he cleared the last hurdle.

“I’ve got it!” Chat exclaimed, racing back to her side with her yoyo in hand. “I’ve got it! It’s okay. It’s over. It’s over now. It’s finished. He’s done.”

“Sh…Ch…” Her head hung limply and her eyes were barely able to focus on him as he tried to get her to look at him without moving her too much.

“It—It’s okay! It’s going to be okay!” He whispered to her, so softly that the camera barely caught it. He was clearly panicked and trying desperately not to let it show. “We just need the Cure. If you cast the Cure, everything will be better, okay?”

She didn’t appear to be listening, though. And barely seemed aware of anything. “Ch-ck…Chaaa…”

The video zoomed in on them both. Ladybug dazed and bleeding out. Chat crying and trying not to break down completely.

“Please! I just need you to say the words! Say the words and you’ll be okay! Can you do that?”

“Huurrr…s…” She slurred, begging him without words for help.

“I know! I know! But you can fix it. C’mon, M’lady, please!”

“I…I cn…”

“Say the words. Just two words, okay?” He begged desperately, patting her cheek in an attempt to both soothe her and keep her attention on him. “Two words and then you can go to sleep, I promise.”

“Ch…a…”

“Just…just two words, that’s it! I’ll…I’ll even say them with you, okay?”

She winced. “Nn…”

She clearly wasn’t listening, but he was desperate and so started to try. “Miraculous—”

She sobbed.

“No, no. Listen to me, okay? Say it with me!” He ordered, forcing her to look at him. “Mi. Say it with me! Mi!”

“M…mi…”

“Racu!”

“ra…” Her gaze started to waver.

He shook her. “Cu!”

“…cu…lous…”

He gave a weak laugh. Even now she was ahead of him. “Ladybug.”

“La…laa-deee…”

He shook her again. “LADYBUG!”

“……b…u—gahck-ugh—" She was cut off by harsh coughing.

But it was enough.

Thank every god out there it was enough.

The Cure spilled out from the object she was holding, transforming into magical ladybugs that covered everything in their wake. Unfortunately, the casting of the Cure and incoming loveliness caused the person holding the camera to drop it, losing sight of the video and cutting the feed.

_______________________

The ringing of her phone got Marinette’s attention, drawing her away from the movie she was watching with Adrien and the Dolls.

“Hello?”

“Miss Ladybug.” Came the voice on the end. “This is Aqualad.”

She blinked in surprise. “Aqualad? Is everything okay?”

“Yes…just…” The sound of angry whispers could be heard on the other end. “Would you be able to come speak with Conner today?”

Marinette frowned at that. While she certainly enjoyed seeing Conner, that…didn’t sound like a good thing. If anything, it sounded like a plea. And the voices that sounded like an argument in the background only made it sound worse.

“Is everything okay?”

Adrien seemed to notice the concern in her voice as he had stopped paying attention to the movie to focus on her. In turn, Chaton was peeking over the couch at her, curious as to what was going on.

“No. We found a recording of something…personal to you. Conner saw it and now he’s rather upset. We think it might help if you were here.”

“WHAT?!” She exclaimed. This definitely got the attention of the other dolls, all of whom had abandoned the movie in favor of checking on their Mama.

Her eyes narrowed. Suddenly full Mom mode was on.

“Aqualad. Tell me right now what happened.”

And Kaldur caved immediately with only a small sigh.

“Robin found the video of the akumatized hero who attacked you and instigated the events leading to the Paris Ban.” He explained. “I apologize. We should have checked with you first, but at Conner’s request, we all watched it.”

Marinette sighed. “I thought that was buried.”

“We’re rather good at digging.” Robin’s voice could be heard on the other side of the line.

“Hang on. I’ll be right over.” She told them before hanging up.

“Marinette? What happened?” She turned to see Adrien standing before her, looking rather concerned. Picking up on her tension, he had stopped the movie. And sure enough, four little dolls stared up at her in worry.

She sighed. There was nothing else for it.

“Who wants to go on a trip?”

The Dolls perked up at that.

Adrien, however, noticed how tense she was.

“Mari?”

“They saw the tape.”

His eyes widened. “Oh.” He reached out to her, and without even thinking, she moved into his arms. He clutched her tightly, soothing her and himself. It was…not a pleasant thing to have to relive. That so-called “hero” had caused more damage than just that one day. And more than any of them had truly recovered from.

The dolls seemed to catch on to the atmosphere, because their excitement died down.

“It’ll be okay, Mari. Let’s just be there for him. And I’ll be here for you.”

She held him back just as tight.

“Together then?”

“Always.”

[hops-hunny]

Felix Felicis

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff! Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Request: “Can you do Draco x Hufflepuff reader fluff where they’re cuddling together and all he wants to do is make her laugh because she failed an exam earlier that day so he’s trying to do everything he can to cheer her up and overall it’s just super fluffy? Thank you have a great day❤️❤️”

Summary: After (Y/N) has a rather unfortunate week, Draco does everything in his power to change that. In a way, he was (Y/n)’s own little Felix Felicis.

A/N: This was my first request so I was a bit nervous writing it! I enjoyed every bit though, this was a very cute request. I hope it was everything you wanted and more anon <3

If (Y/n) didn't know any better, she would've claimed that the world had it out for her. And after the week she had, who would have blamed her? On Monday in potions, she had stirred the wrong way causing a reaction that made her eyebrows disappear(thank god for makeup). On Tuesday, she had slipped and fallen in the great hall which caused a chorus of laughter from every house, including her fellow Hufflepuffs. Wednesday, well, nothing happened. She felt relieved. She had answered a question correctly in DADA, had a free period that overlapped with her friends, and had taken an exam in potions which in her opinion was very easy! Her stroke of bad luck was no more! She was ecstatic...until Thursday came around. If she had thought the rest of the week was bad, then Thursday was absolutely fucking dreadful. Her day started off fine, she woke up, got dressed, and put on her favorite perfume. She didn’t use it often, only when she expected the day to be amazing 

That hopeful feeling of luck was short lived and ended by the time she got to the great hall. The Weasley twins had rigged a prank on the wrong person which resulted in her face being stained blue, when she got to her first class her seat was taken by someone else which she didn’t have a problem with. That was until she noticed the only seat left was near Fletcher Digby, who was known for his noticeable...odor that was...to put it nicely, absolutely putrid. By the end of her day, she had gathered up a broken shoe, a run in her stockings, a rip in her blouse, and the blue tint to her face had somehow gotten worse - which she later found out was sweat activated. (Y/n) was usually very optimistic. Even during the cloudiest of days or saddest of times she was always there to offer encouraging words and a smile. If a fellow Hufflepuff was sick, she’d often bake them something with the house elves or give them the last of her sweets from Honeydukes. She even did this for people in other houses as well, a ‘Get Well Soon!’ card attached along with it. That’s what her boyfriend, Draco, loved about her.

She was his light in all the darkness, the candle to his flame. When she came into his life, she taught him many things. His love for her was deep and pure and anyone would be a fool not to notice. That’s why Draco was concerned when he started to see her throughout the week less and less. During the school day, they didn’t have any classes together but even then he’d always wave or smile to her during hallpassing. He’d leave a kiss on her forehead in the great hall before heading to his own table and waited for her after her last class of the day on Friday. So when Draco found himself waiting a lot longer than usual outside of the potion’s room he grew concerned. He pushed past a few students entering the room. His smile dropped when there was no one left in the room but Fletcher Digby. Come to think of it, had he seen her at all today? He assumed she came to the great hall late but now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen her leave with her friends. There were no quick pecks during hallpassing, winks when they saw each other. He quickly strode the halls, looking for her. He was worried, it wasn’t like (y/n) to just miss a day of class with no warning or explanation prior. 

“Hannah, have you seen (Y/n)? I haven’t seen her all day and I'm growing quite worried.” He said pulling the Hufflepuff off to the side. If anyone were to know where she was, surely her roommate would. The girl took a moment to think. 

“Hm, no. I haven’t seen her since this morning. Before I left the dorm, she was still sleeping. She was really distraught last night so I’m not surprised she decided to stay in. However, I do admit that is completely unlike her.” She offered him a sympathetic smile as he thanked her before heading in the direction of the girls dormitory.

He knocked on the door, finding it to not be locked as it popped open. He walked in only to find that her bed was empty. The only person to be found was Luna, who was holding (Y/n)’s favorite stuffed giraffe (one he had given to her as a present once). She hadn’t noticed him yet but wasn’t phased when he let out a sharp, “What are you doing with that?” she simply turned around and offered him a soft grin.

“Hello Draco, (Y/n) asked me to bring this to her. She was having a terribly bad case of wrackspurts today. One of the worst cases I’ve seen really. So she went where she usually does when she has a bad day although, I think you should bring it to her now that you’re here. Also give her this, it’s a good luck charm I made for her. It should get rid of the wrackspurts and bring luck along with it.” She spoke, handing him the stuffed giraffe and a necklace with a peculiar charm made of tiger’s eye. He looked at it for a sec before taking it, offering her a nod before heading off where he knew you’d be.

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You sat cross legged on the old, comfy couch, drinking the cup of chamomile and lavender tea Hagrid had brought to you. You had grown quite close to the gentle giant throughout your years at Hogwarts. During your first year, you were having an awful day, not as bad as the week you were currently going through but still quite a bad one. You were homesick and missed your family dearly. Your housemates tried to cheer you up with treats and kind words and although you appreciated them dearly, nothing could stop the tears from flowing. That’s when Luna came in, she brought you straight to Hagrid’s hut and explained your dilemma. He welcomed you both in, brewing you tea and offering whatever treats he had. Soon enough, your tears stopped. Hagrid’s hut slowly started to become your home away from home as he offered it to you whenever you liked without asking any questions if you weren’t willing to talk.

Usually, you’d slowly start to tell him what was wrong but today was one of those silent days. Many would expect Hagrid to be absolutely horrid with emotions but, he had like a 6th sense when it came to them. He decided to leave you alone for a few hours, tending to his duties. When he came back, he had gotten you your favorite dessert from the house elves. They were always more than willing to send and make you things because of how kind and helpful you were to them. You sipped at your tea as you softly pet Fang’s head which was resting in your lap. You and Fang’s heads both perked up as you heard a knock at the door. Hagrid walked to the door to see who it was.

“Ah, I figured I would see ya sometime soon.” he said, stepping to the side to let whoever it was in. Draco stepped into the small hut, closing the door as he came to sit near you on the couch. You instantly threw yourself into his arms which in turn, caused him to wrap his arms around you tightly, placing a kiss on the top of your head as he stroked your back. Hagrid took that as his sign to leave, taking the large dog with him. Draco let you cry a bit, his heart breaking at the noises.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere, love. Are you alright? Luna told me to give you these.” He said as he handed the girl her giraffe. She hugged it tightly as he put the charm around her neck. She sat between her lover’s legs sighing. He held her close as she described her day, his heart aching from all that she had to deal with and his mind cursing him for not realizing sooner.

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

“And on top of all of that, I failed my potions exam! That wouldn’t have been bad if I hadn’t gone on blabbing to all my friends how well I thought I did on the bloody thing. I just feel like the world has it out for me.” She said looking up at him. He nodded in understanding. He had stayed quiet as she had vent to him, just providing the listening ear she needed. That’s when he got a few ideas. He smiled before standing up, stretching his hand out for the girl to grab.

“Come with me. I’ve got an idea! Quickly, we mustn’t be caught.” He said eagerly as he stared at her. She hesitantly grabbed his hand, setting Georgie, her giraffe, on the couch before she was swiftly dragged out of the hut. Draco pulled his girlfriend along, running as she tried to keep up due to the fact her legs were much shorter.

“Where are we going, Dray?” She asked which prompted a quick “shhh!!” from Draco. They both ran across the grounds of the school, hand in hand as to not be caught. (Y/n) had no idea where he was taking her but she thought anything would be better than moping around the rest of the day. They both tried to contain the wild giggles coming from their mouths as they headed in the direction of Hogsmeade.

------------------------------- 

As they finally made it, they both still had smiles on their faces at the rush they had gotten from sneaking off. Draco had tied his tie around the girl’s eyes leading her in the way of whatever wild idea it was that he had. “What if we get caught? Someone is bound to see us.” she said, her face forming a frown at the thought of being caught.

“Oh hush darling, we’ll be fine. Besides if we do happen to get caught in some trouble, I’m sure my father won’t mind bailing us out.” He said, finally removing her blindfold. She opened her eyes to see...Madam Puddifoots? She gave him a strange look. “We’re here to get a laugh out of the things that happen in here, sweets. Trust me, you’ll see. Act natural.” He took her hand, leading her to a small booth. 

Soon enough, she saw and heard what he meant. The sight of all the couples with their peculiar behaviors was quite a laugh. They saw one couple come in with matching crochet sweaters with each others faces on it, another referred to each other as each others “snuggle-boop-kitty-fuzy-wuzzykins”and only that each time they spoke to each other. But along with the odd, mushy, and gushy couples came a few odd breakups too. One man tried to propose by reciting an “original poem” which turned out to be stolen, causing his boyfriend to dump scalding hot tea on his head. Another guy forgot he scheduled dates with 4 different girls at the same spot, on the same day..didn’t end well for him. A few employees had to carry him out on a stretcher as the girls all exchanged numbers.

By the time they were back on their way to the castle, (Y/n) was already in a better mood. She held an ice cream cone in one hand, and Draco’s hand in her other. They both paused coming to the same realization. Although it was easy to sneak out, how would they sneak back in? The couple locked eyes at the same time before Draco picked her up, tossing her over his shoulder. (Y/n) made sure her ice cream didn’t fall as her boyfriend sprinted in the shadows, using a passageway she had never seen before to get back into the castle. Once inside, they both held in their giggles, quieting their breathing from the run back to the castle as they made their way to his dorm. By then she had long finished her ice cream as he tossed her on his bed, throwing himself down next to her shortly after. (Y/n) rolled over towards Draco to find him already facing her. The pair sat in silence for a moment before both losing composure. They began to laugh hysterically, to the point where a tear or two was shed. After their little laughing fit, Draco sat up, pulling his girlfriend on top of him. She turned, straddling him as she placed a soft kiss on his lips before resting her head on his shoulder.

“I just wanted to say thank you Draco. Not even just for today but for being there whenever I need you. This was honestly one of the worst weeks of my life but if I’m honest, I’d go through it all again to have another evening like the one we just had.” She said as she nuzzled in deeper, taking in the scent of expensive cologne and cinnamon. Her lover was taken back by her words. She was the only one who made him feel like that. Her words meant more to him than anything in the world. He tightened his grip on her, holding her close to him.

“I’d do it all again and more just to see you happy. Why don’t we make this a regular thing of ours, hm? Every friday, we’ll sneak outside the castle and do whatever we want, indulging to our hearts can’t handle it anymore? Even if not, everyday with you is an adventure, sneaky trips or not.” He said. Draco meant what he said full heartedly, everyday she managed to make his life an adventure, learning new things about himself that he didn’t know were there. It was like he was a canvas and she was the painter, each day, each moment, a different stroke of color on his heart.

Perhaps it was Luna’s good luck charm or perhaps it was them, but from then on out each day seemed luckier than the last when he had his girl on his arm.

[armageddonouttahere]

Consolation

Title: Consolation

Summary: Takes place after “Putting Others First”, in which Roman sinks into his room and doesn’t leave for a while. Logan is the only one not preoccupied enough to come and lure him out, but in this he has to face emotions he’s been putting on the backburner for a long time.

Pairings: Romantic Logince, background platonic Moxiety

Warnings: Crying, self-doubt, insecurity, negative thinking

Rating: General Audiences

Genres: Fluff, Hurt/comfort (with a happy ending)

Word count: 2,500

A/N:  Here we are, at last! I had cranked out the last couple paragraphs of this fic just an hour ago, and I’m very excited. This had gone from a little Logince comfort drabble to a fic of 2,500 words (exactly, though I didn’t do that on purpose). I hope anyone who sees this enjoys it, and everyone who’s been waiting for it likes it even more, after all this suspense. Taglist will be at the end, under the cut.

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Logan was at a loss. The aftermath of Janus’ name reveal left all the sides shaken and fragile. Especially Roman. Logan wanted to help, he wanted to be able to tell Roman with certainty that he will be okay, that everything will be alright. Logan needed to be able to look Roman in the eyes and know that the words that came out of his mouth are truths.

But he can’t. So, Logan focused on the problems he could solve. He endeavoured to keep Thomas in working order, though on the inside he may be struggling. Virgil seemed to have taken a backseat, focused on watching over Patton. The most he’d seen of the anxious side was weekly updates and reports on Patton’s condition, how he was feeling, which Logan appreciated greatly. He needed all the positive data he could get.

As the logical side, Logan was somewhat attuned with the other sides’ reasoning and thought process. He needed this information to be accurate in order to know how Thomas works, how he functions. He knew how the other sides try to solve problems, how they understand things. When something or someone throws a wrench in the system it’s one of the few things that affected Logan physically.

In the aftermath after Roman sank out Logan had migraines for weeks. Roman’s flawed logic- his flawed perception of himself- is the one thing that has caused Logan the most physical pain. Roman’s view of himself shifted so drastically to the negative end that Logan felt… sorry? For him? 

He felt… he- he felt. Roman made him feel. What did he feel, exactly? Empathy? It was true that Roman’s emotional pain gave Logan physical pain, but the shared anguish went further than that. Logan knew what it’s like to feel wrong, to feel unheard. He related to Roman. He knew what he’s going through. 

Their opinions may differ, but Roman still needed consolation. Logan won’t further his belief that Janus is the villain, but Roman doesn’t need a scolding or a lecture, skewed though his viewpoint of Janus may be. He needed someone to listen to him, someone to comfort him.

Logan was aware that he’s no optimal candidate for the matter, not the first choice for consolation (nor the second). He does not possess the endless cuddles and comfort food of Patton, nor does he have the quiet understanding and listening ears of Virgil. His only way of reassuring the prince is through data, probabilities, and chances. Inadequate. Unsatisfactory. Definitely not enough.

Logan made a plan. A plan to make Roman feel better. A plan to get Roman to open his door, something he hadn’t done in two weeks. He gathered things he believed he would need in order to cheer Roman up: the Sherlock screenplay Roman had gifted him at Christmastime, Logan’s book of Shakespeare’s plays (Hamlet being pre-marked with a red sticky-note, in case Roman is feeling increasingly dramatic and macabre), his journal for note-taking, vocab cards, and his laptop- which has a playlist compilation full of ‘cute’ animal videos at the ready. All of this was needed for Logan to get up the courage to knock on Roman’s door. He felt as if he’s putting on an armour of sorts. Preparing himself for battle. 

It’s quite funny- the logical side needs bravery and courage to step outside his area of expertise and comfort the prince of the group.

May 17th, 2020. 1830 hours. Attempt #1: Prologue.

Roman has not left his corner of the mindscape for 16 days, 6 hours, and 28 minutes. Virgil has just given an update on Patton’s condition, which is thus: Patton’s “room” has slightly lessened in its intensity of upsetting emotions. The picture frames’ rate of showing unfavourable memories has decreased. Patton has not cried yet today. The Dark Sides, Remus and Janus, seem to be keeping on the “down-low”. Thomas has not had any intrusive dreams in many days. Virgil has been too preoccupied in keeping tabs on Patton to give him anxiety over much.  Thomas’ motivation has gone down. His restlessness has gone up. Roman’s unconscious contributions to Thomas’ everyday life have gone down significantly. Thomas has stopped daydreaming. He has stopped thinking about the future, what he has to do tomorrow. He is becoming forgetful and apathetic.  As the logical side, there is only so much I can do to keep Thomas in working order without help from the others, that much I can admit. I have put off trying to help Roman in case things only become worse, but the stakes are too high at this point. Action must be taken. I will record the results of this 1st attempt later.

Logan steeled himself, books tucked under his arm. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. 

Around nine at night, he wrote down the results. Roman had been unresponsive to polite requests for entry, knocking, attempts to start a conversation, small-talk, even a referencing desire to build a snowman. He had not responded to propositions of reading from plays or poetry, or any of his favourite literature. In summary, it was almost like speaking to a “brick-wall” (almost, because the door to Roman’s room was made of mahogany).

“Really? Things must be bad,” was Virgil’s response as Logan recounted the events to him later that evening. It was late, almost time for Logan to get some shut-eye after organizing Thomas’ duties for tomorrow. Logan had entered the kitchen hoping that Thomas would get a good night’s sleep so he could have the highest level of productivity the next day, but judging by the Monster Energy drink resting in Virgil’s hands he supposed that was not the case.

“It is certainly concerning. I tried… if not everything, at least a substantial amount of options.”

“Yeah, and if Roman doesn’t answer to a Disney reference… I’m worried about him. Do you want... me to try?” he said, fidgeting. Logan realized he looked uncomfortable with the idea. Virgil must felt a little guilty for not showing up at all during the argument.

“No, I believe that more attempts should be made. To wear him down, in a way. I’m planning to try again tomorrow.”

“Same Bat Time, same Bat Place?”

“An interesting way of putting it, but that’s the idea.” Logan rubbed his eyes and began making a list of all his tasks once he returned to his room.

“Alright. I’m gonna go see Thomas.” Virgil said, getting ready to sink out.

“I assumed you were. And Virgil?”

He popped back up. “Yeah?”

“Please at least try to motivate him a bit, if through fear? I don’t want to deal with a gloomy, unproductive Thomas tomorrow.”

“You got it. I won’t screw him up too much. ‘Night, Lo.”

“Good-night, Virgil.” He was alone.

“Roman?” Logan knocked once more. “Roman, would you be open to company? I wish to speak with you.”

Nothing. He sighed, pushing his journal farther into his pants pocket. He decided to come with substantially less things this time around. To come as he is.

“I’m not entertaining visitors or guests at the present. Please come back another time, thank you,” came a weak and muffled response.

The sound of Roman’s voice gave Logan an ache in his heart which he didn’t want to name. He ignored it, for the moment.

“I just want to speak with you. You’ve been decidedly quiet these past few weeks. Your input, both in-person and in Thomas’ subconscious has dropped a considerable amount. As far as I am aware you have not made your presence known to me or any of the other sides in over two weeks.”

Silence was his response. Facts were getting Logan nowhere. Logan sighed, struggling with himself. Did he tell Roman what he thought in simple terms, what he was trying to say through his data? How could he bare himself to Roman’s listening ears, let himself be known?

“In all honesty, Roman, I’m- I’m…” He took a breath. “I’m worried about you.” He said this in a rush, letting it all out in one breath. Like a Band-aid, as Virgil had stated. The silence that still followed both frightened him and spurred him on.

“Roman, I- I haven’t spoken to you in weeks. I’m afraid of what will happen if you stay isolated for much longer. You’re a necessary part of Thomas’ life, for me to have things to maintain and keep in order. But more than that, more than duties of mine, I mis- I’m… finding your absence upsetting.”

Logan faintly realised his hands had begun to shake, and he clenched them.

“You… mean a lot to m- the Mindscape, to Patton, to Virgil… to everyone. No one means you harm. We need your input on discussions, and revel in your ideas and thoughts. We... miss you.”

Just gotta rip it off.

“I- I miss you, Roman.” Logan shut his eyes, forcing out the idea that he had become emotional enough to begin producing tears. Logic does not cry. “We bicker sometimes and both of us are wrong on occasion, but I would rather have arguments with you than nothing without.”

“Seeing your vibrance and excitement in brainstorming, your happiness in Disney movies and romances, watching your brilliance when creating plays and stories and… being you, I- I find myself… swept up- metaphorically, of course- in every emotion you give off when you’re around me. Seeing you productive and happy gives me more of a reason to work to the best of my ability.”

“It’s… it would be difficult for me to ever say these things in the hearing of the other sides, but… I miss the feelings you bring me when you are around. It is something greater than a job well done, Crofters, or puzzles and murder mysteries being solved.”

“The emotions I feel when you are around are something more than a simple pleasure in watching, in the aesthetical enjoyment of seeing things fall into place. When I’m with you, I feel… spurred into action.”

“Roman, I- I can’t… I can’t bear your absence any longer. I’m worried about you, but more than that, I’m worried that should you keep to yourself, I’ll never… I- I won’t…” Logan swept aside a few tears that had run down his face. His throat ached so much that he feared he wouldn’t be able to get any more words out. The words he spoke next came out in a hoarse whisper.

“Without you I’m afraid I’ll never feel anything again.”

A shuddered gasp tore itself from Logan’s throat as he took his first proper breath in a few minutes. Tears slicked their way down his face freely now. This was, Logan supposed, because such a long drought of emotion had rendered him virtually unable to control any that did overcome him.

“However,” Logan began once more after a few more minutes of silence, his voice quieter now. If anyone else had heard it, they might have said he sounded ashamed. “Should you wish to remain alone for… whatever period of time, I won’t stop you. Asking you to open your door for my sake is extremely selfish of me. I’m… I’m sorry, Roman.”

Logan took one more breath before turning around to leave. He had no idea what the effects of his speech would be, and that scared him. He was in an entirely new territory. This was an unprecedented event, with no similar experiences to compare it to. He had ‘boldly gone where no man had gone before’, so to say.

Logan was so wrapped in his own panic, for that is what it was, he almost missed the imperceptible click of Roman’s door opening as he walked away. Every muscle in Logan’s body tensed, and he prepared for angry words and scathing insults. Logan would face it, however. He turned around, and was met with a sight for some very sore eyes.

Roman held open his door an infinitesimal amount, peering through the crack. Through the small open space Logan could see the prince out of his usual outfit, the beautiful swath of his hair, and one very tearful eye. Logan opened his mouth without knowing what would come out, but the air was knocked out of him.

Roman flung the door open wide and his socked feet ate up the steps between them as he flung his arms around Logan, the force of his embrace almost tipping Logan over. An embarrassing ‘oof’ escaped him at the impact and his hands went up to grip the back of Roman’s jumper after only a second of hesitation.

Logan’s mind filled incredibly fast with all sorts of information: the scent of Roman’s hair, the warmth of his body, how Roman buried his head in Logan’s neck and the slight wetness that came from tears. The way Roman’s nose jutted into his neck, the almost imperceptible touch of Roman’s lips on his shirt collar. Logan’s body betrayed him in an audible catch of his breath as Roman clung to him harder.

“Roman, I-” Logan began in a faint whisper, but Roman only shushed him and tightened his grip, rocking them from side to side ever so slightly.

They stayed like that for Galileo knows how long when the prince peeled himself from Logan. Roman looked upon Logan with eyes so bright from unshed tears Logan would have believed there were stars in them.

“You never said anything. Not a word.”

Their conversation was as hushed as could be, the Mindscape and the world beyond it ceasing to exist and zooming in on the two of them, in this moment.

“I’m not good with words. When it comes to talking about feelings, I mean. You know this.”

“Don’t lie, Specs. That was one of the most eloquent and beautiful things I’ve ever heard.”

Logan scrambled to find a breath within him as Roman smiled up at him. For one of the few times in his life, he found himself with nothing to say.

“It was moving, and heartfelt-” Roman continued, taking Logan’s hand and stepping back, towards his room. He paused in his motions and looked at Logan once more.

“-and it was incredibly romantic.” He said softly.

“I’m- I’m glad.” came Logan’s strangled reply. Roman smiled at him again and led him into his room. There they would sit and talk for hours, and Logan would hold Roman to his chest. They would confess to things bothering them and their hopes, dreams, and fears for the future. It would grow late, and Logan would give in and begin to card his hands through Roman’s hair as the prince drifted off to sleep.

There, in the black-blue of the sky of Roman’s window, scattered with stars and the slanting rays of the moon, Logan would look down upon the prince’s sleeping head and realize, though he had first doubted his abilities, he had been enough. Enough for Roman and for himself. He had been enough.

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Taglist:

@count-woe-laf @psychedelicships

[kyber-crystal]

here again || s.r

words: ~2k

summary: you & steve reunite in wakanda after two long years apart

warning: literally none, just fluff. also bad writing bc this is an old ass oneshot

a/n: so uh,,,this was apparently the result of me falling in love with nomad steve rogers all over again. IW was actually the first avengers film i saw and let me just say, hot damn...also i’m horrible w/titles i’m so sorry. if you’d like to be added to my taglist to be the first to know when i publish something new loml!

tags: to @wxstedhexrt​ ! THANK YOU FOR BEING SO SWEET AND SUPPORTIVE AND ALWAYS TAGGING ME IN STUFF ILY

Time flies, people told you. Make the most of every moment. Take nothing for granted. Appreciate those you have around you while they’re still here, because you never know when they’ll leave you. 

What they didn’t mention was what happened between those long hours, the immense pain that came along with missing someone you loved and held near and dear to your heart. The countless sleepless nights awake, wondering if they’d be alright, wondering if they were safe and not in danger. The countless nights hoping and praying they’d come back to you and crying yourself to sleep.

They didn’t tell you that sometimes, you never knew what you were missing until it was gone. 

In your case, your ‘what’ was Steve Rogers. 

Initially, you’d started off on Tony’s side. Not because you agreed with his argument - that wasn’t the case at all - but because you couldn’t stand the idea of turning your back against the man that had sacrificed so much for your sake. But as soon as you saw Steve on the other side of the battlefield, eyes soft and pleading, you couldn’t take it anymore. You caved.  

Being in love made people do strange things, you thought.

You were lucky enough to have found refuge in Wakanda. T’Challa was more than happy to let you stay, knowing you had nowhere else to go and wanting to make sure you were looked after at all times. The others - Sam and the rest of Team Cap, had been sent to the Raft - they weren’t as lucky.

You felt awful. Here you were, living out a peaceful life (well, as peaceful of a fugitive’s life could be), while the rest of your teammates were trapped within the iron fists of the government.

Two years passed, and you still hadn’t gotten a message, any sort of sign, from any of them. You began losing hope. Maybe they weren’t coming back...

“Miss Y/N?” a calm voice suddenly jarred you from your thoughts. 

You turned around to see T’Challa standing there with his hands behind his back. “How many times have i told you to just address me as Y/N?”

“My apologies, Y/N,” he nodded curtly, correcting himself. “Are you alright?”

“Just...thinking,” you hummed. 

“It seems as if you have a lot on your mind,” he guessed. “Is there something that’s bothering you?”

“No, no...”

“Miss- Y/N, you’ve been here for two years, and you think by now, I wouldn’t know when something’s up?”  The Wakandan king raised an eyebrow. 

“T’challa-”

“Hopefully, some good news will lift your spirits?” he offered. “I have received a call, they’re on their way.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Who?”

“Captain Rogers and the others are due to arrive soon. War is coming, and we need to prepare.”

You froze. “D..did I just hear you correctly?”

“Indeed. Okoye will meet you outside your chambers in half an hour, so take some time to wash up and rest, will you? You seem exhausted.”

“You know me so well,” you yawned and stretched your arms in the air. “See you in a bit.”

After you finished washing up and drying your hair, you changed into a comfortable cable-knit sweater and dark jeans before opening the door to see Okoye and Shuri standing there. “Hi.”

Shuri came forward and squeezed you into a tight hug. “Hey!”

You chuckled lightly and ruffled her hair. “So, what’re we doing?”

“T’Challa’s already there, we’re going to see Barnes,” she explained.

“Bucky?” 

“The one and only.”

Okoye offered you one of her rare smiles. You’d formed an unexpected close friendship with the fierce warrior during your time here - she made an excellent sparring partner, and even taught you how to work her weapons.

You headed outside to meet T’Challa, and made your way towards the fields together. 

...

“Drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0,” Steve stated as he walked up to the pilot’s seat. Despite the calm tone of voice he had, everyone could tell he was on the verge of losing it.

“I hope you’re right about this, Cap,” Sam said, “or we’re gonna land a lot faster than you want to.”

“Nervous, Rogers?” Natasha nudged him gently in the side. 

“No.” But the look in his eyes gave it all away.

“It’s been a wild two years, huh,” she exhaled as she stared out ahead, the Quinjet passing through a camouflage forcefield into the Golden City’s valley, landing at the airfield outside the palace.

“Yeah...it has.”

“So when are you gonna tell her?”

“Tell her what?”

“That you’re hopelessly in love with her.”

“Natasha-”

“Don’t bullshit me, Rogers, I know you are,” she gave the super-soldier an accusatory look. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have woken up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare that she died, and it was only after talking with Sam for an hour that you fell back asleep. Which has happened multiple times before.”

“But, Natasha-”

“Come on..why can’t you just admit it? Are you afraid she’s gonna reject you? Because that should be the least of your worries. She’s head over heels for you.”

“What makes you think that?” he tilted his head to the side slightly. 

“Intuition. And the way she looked at you.”

“When you said we were going to open Wakanda to the rest of the world...this is not what I imagined,” Okoye commented as she and T’Challa walked side-by-side.

“And what did you imagine?”

“The Olympics. Maybe even a Starbucks.”

The Quinjet’s back gate dropped open and its occupants disembarked. Steve and Natasha stepped down the ramp first, followed by Bruce and Rhodey, with Vision and Wanda in the back.

“Should we bow?” Bruce whispered into Rhodey’s ear.

“Yeah,” he replied, dead serious. “He’s a king.”

“Seems like I’m always thanking you for something,” Steve said as he and T’Challa shook hands. 

Bruce awkwardly bowed. Rhodey pretended to look shocked, but there was a hint of an smile on his face. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, we don’t do that here,” T’Challa motioned with his hand. Bruce shot Rhodey a look, and was just answered with an amused grin. “So how big of an assault can we expect?”

“Uh, sir, I think you can expect quite a big assault,” Bruce replied as they began walking back into the administrative building.

“How we looking?” Natasha questioned.

“You will have my Kingsguard, the Border Tribe, the Dora Milaje, and...”

“A semi-stable, 100-year-old man,” Bucky finished with a wide grin as he walked towards his best friend. The two men exchanged a tight hug. 

“How you been, Buck?”

“Uh, not bad, for the end of the world.” He paused for a moment before speaking again. “But I think I’ve been holding up better than she has.”

“Who?”

“Everyone’s favorite retired Olympian, ex-nurse, and fugitive electrokinetic hero.”

“What-”

Before he had the chance to answer, your familiar figure stepped out from the shadows.

“Y/N?”

“Steve?”

You felt your breath catch in your throat and froze on the spot. He still had that same lean, muscular figure that any girl would swoon over, but his hair had grown out from years on the run and a rugged beard now covered his sharp jaw. His suit was darkened from dirt and grime and the star in its centre was torn out. But he was still absolutely breathtaking - bright blue eyes shining through the coverage. 

His expression immediately softened upon seeing you. After many nights praying to see your face again his vision had finally become reality - and he had to keep pinching the inside of his palm to remind himself that this in fact, wasn’t a dream at all. He wasn’t dreaming. You were real, and you were standing just a couple yards away. 

You felt your chest ache at the sight of him - it had been two years since you heard him speak. And it didn’t seem to matter how long you were apart for, because his voice would always make you weak at the knees. You hated him for making you react the way you did - or was it yourself that your hatred was directed at more?

But then all feelings of resentment and frustration starting to bubble up to the surface suddenly evaporated. You snapped out of your temporary trance and broke into a sprint, running as fast as your legs would carry you and launching yourself towards him, flinging your arms around his neck. “Steve-”

You slumped against him and broke down, your body trembling from your sobs. He pulled you closer against him and circled his arms around your waist. You didn’t know whether you were crying out of frustration or relief - but the feeling that was brought upon you by being held by him was unlike any other - you’d never get tired of it. You felt so safe, so protected in his tight embrace that you didn’t want to think about anything else. You didn’t want to think about the inevitable war on your way, you didn’t want to think about the past nor the  future, you just wanted to live in the moment - with your head on his chest, his chin on top of your head. That was it.

Steve felt his heart shatter into a million tiny pieces. You were crying. You never cried. You never cried and now you were breaking down - because of him.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, voice muffled by your hair. “God, I missed you so much. I’m so sorry I left you-”

“It’s okay-” you choked out, “I’m just glad you’re alive-”

You lifted your chin up slightly and he rested his forehead against yours, so close that there were only a few millimeters that kept your lips from touching. That’s when you realized he, too, was crying - tears streaming down his face and you swear there’s literally nothing that could make him look any less handsome. You felt your heart stop momentarily. A strange feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. If it weren’t for his steady gaze, you’re almost 100% sure you would’ve forgotten how to breathe.

Steve let out a shaky sigh of relief, inhaling the fresh scent of roses in your hair. It’s been two years since he was last able to hold you like this - and two years later, he still believes you fit perfectly together and that you were made to be held by him, and him alone. 

Then you were overcome with a sudden surge of confidence and quickly cupped his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his, closing the gap. 

It was like fireworks were shooting through your veins as he deepened the kiss and pulled you closer - if that was even possible, given that you were practically pressed against one another - your heart racing at what felt like a million miles per hour at the feeling of his warm lips on yours and his hand between your shoulder blades and on the small of your back. He tasted like everything between euphoria and heartbreak, salty tears and berries and warm coffee, and his touch was electrifying.

You probably could’ve gone on like that for hours on end. It was only when you heard someone cough awkwardly that you broke apart, eyes still glassy with tears, your faces flushed, and lips swollen.

“Are you and lover boy gonna keep up the baby-making or are you gonna say hi to the rest of us?” Sam interjected. “Just a friendly reminder that you aren’t the only two people here.”

“You’re gross,” you muttered as Steve released you to go greet the others. “Hey, Sam. It’s been a while, huh.”

“Long time no see,” he agreed.

“Well, well, well, I see you’ve finally worked up the courage to make a move, both of you,” Natasha smirked as she brought you in for a quick hug. “I’m proud of you both.”

“Nat! I missed you.”

“I missed you too. You know, Cap wouldn’t stop rambling about you the entire way here-”

“Shut up, Nat,” Steve cut her off. “I wasn’t rambling.”

“Not rambling my ass,” Bucky muttered, “you were talking my ear off that day we took the Quinjet. Wouldn’t stop worrying about her when she insisted she’d be okay.”

“If there was an Olympic sport of being passionately in love with your best friend and mutually pining over one another for years before finally breaking the through-the-roof tension, I assure you you’d win, Captain,” Shuri grinned mischievously.

“Oh, my God.”

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Discovering New Horizons - pt. 2

Alrighty friends! I know I’ve taken a pretty long hiatus from writing, but it came at just the right time. Between family drama and finally beginning my career, I think I’ve found the rhythm of things. I’m hoping I can begin working on your requests again, but it probably won’t be as often as it was before (just due to time). 

Anyways, I’ve had multiple people ask for a sequel of this one shot, and I agreed that it needed one. So here it is! Please read part 1 if you haven’t (you will be confused).

Part 1 here

Masterlist

Read on AO3

Warnings: smut

Weeks have passed since you had that night with Arthur, where he hugged you and you discovered you could be vulnerable around him. The first few days after that had been very confusing and you hopped in and out of phases where Arthur could touch you and others where he couldn’t even get within a foot of you. Never did you attack him in those aversive moods, of course, but if he tried to stand close, you’d move. 

The phases of where you would allow him to touch you were the best though. The two of you spent the few days together hunting, gathering and exploring (the train Arthur used as a ruse to get you out of camp went unrobbed). When you wanted to be touched, he’d happily sit under a tree or near a stream and just hold you, and you held him back. Sometimes you cried as your brain processed everything, but Arthur never judged you. He found it incredible that, despite him hardly knowing a thing about you before, you were a very deep and complicated person. During the phases where you were being aversive, Arthur would give you your space without question. 

When the two of you got back to camp, it was hard for you to go back to trying to be the cold-hearted, hard shelled person you’d been for most of your life, especially when Arthur was around. When he was on a job, it was easy to do it because you didn’t trust the others the way you trusted him. But when he was around, it could be impossible at times. You’d try to sneak in little touches here and there when you could sneak them in, just brushes of his hand, putting your knee against his while sitting at the campfire. 

Of course, you didn’t give enough credit to the others in camp and how observant they were, and it wasn’t long before rumors began to spread that you and Arthur were involved. Only Abigail approached you about it, but you got a little overly aggressive about it (you hadn’t meant to, but you didn’t like the idea of sounding vulnerable around so many people), and after that, no one approached you. They did go to Arthur, but he wanted to make you comfortable so he did his best to squash the rumors. 

Then one night, you’d gotten emotional over something simple and you just needed to break down. Arthur was there and, although he tried to take you out of camp so you could let go where you’d be comfortable doing it, he couldn’t. So the two of you headed outside of camp and he just held you while you broke down into his chest, clutching his shirt. The two of you hadn’t heard Uncle approaching and he saw you cuddling together. After that, the cat was out of the bag that you and Arthur were together. 

It was difficult for you because you were convinced Arthur just viewed you as a friend who was kind enough to help you. Sure, you were falling head over heels for him, but you didn’t think the feelings were returned by him. You tried your best to stamp out the flames in camp, even getting mean about it, but no one took you seriously. Sean had even come up to you and draped an arm over you. 

“Ah, I always knew you had a soft core,” he said drunkenly. “No one is that mean through and through!” 

“Get your arm off me before I show you how mean I can really get,” you snarled. He chuckled but finally withdrew his arm. You glared at his back as he walked away. 

Over the next few days after that, people started to get on your nerves. They were seeing through your cracks and you hated it as they started having more jokes at your expense, daring to even try and touch you. Arthur seemed to sense it and he started pulling you out on jobs more and more to prevent you losing your patience and killing someone. 

The result of him doing this though was that you started to get even closer to him, both emotionally and physically. One night you were with him out in the Scarlett Meadows, sitting near the lake as the sun was setting. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear and the colors were vibrant. You and Arthur were sat around a little fire, wrapped in one another’s embrace. You’d been wondering for days if he had feelings for you. One thing led to another and the two of you kissed, affirming your hopes. 

Arthur was so sweet with you when you were out together. He made you feel safe enough to let down your thick walls and you were able to discover a lot about yourself, investigate the dark corners that you didn’t even know you had. 

Part of you felt foolish, weak, pathetic because you felt you should be able to do this all on your own. At one point, you voiced this to him. He put his hands on your shoulders. 

“Darlin’, from what you’ve told me about your family, they encouraged you to hide and got angry when you opened up. How could you not feel like you weren’t allowed to be open when they made you think it was wrong? But I’m willin’ to help you, sweetheart. Hell, I enjoy it. No one but me gets to see you like this, and that’s somethin’ real special.”

It was when he said things like this that made you feel warm inside, and it helped to remind you to be kind to yourself. You’d been holding too harsh of an expectation of yourself and it wasn’t healthy. 

A few days passed after your first kiss and there’d been a night in camp when you’d had nightmares. They were old, repetitive, but no less disturbing. For the first time in your life since you’d had them, you allowed yourself to cry over them. It made you feel stupid and foolish, but it also felt good to allow yourself to let down. 

However, you didn’t want to go through it alone, so you wandered over to Arthur’s tent and gently woke him. Despite the late hour, he proved to be a good audience. He held you while you told him what you’d dreamt, and then he invited you to stay with him the rest of the night, which you happily took up his offer (forgetting that you’d be seen by everyone else in the morning). 

When the others woke in camp, of course they saw you and soon that was all they mentioned when they saw you. It was almost like they enjoyed seeing you break like this (or at least that was how you perceived it). Finally Hosea pulled you aside. He comforted you and when you asked why the others were so persistently mentioning your change, he just smiled. 

“Because you’ve never been more human before, Y/N,” Hosea said. “Hell, pretty much everyone in this camp was frightened of you. No one wanted to get on your bad side because we’ve all seen what happens to the folks who do. But most of us know that no one is that mean and heartless through and through, and something in you has changed. I don’t know if it was Arthur, or if something else brought it about.” 

You didn’t tell him about that first day with Arthur, when he’d simply touched your hand and then hugged you at night. You’ve never mentioned it to another person, not even to Arthur, how it’s changed your outlook on yourself. 

“The point is, we’re all starting to see who you really are,” Hosea continued, “and from what everyone has been saying to you and about you, we’re liking what we’re finding.” 

He gave you a kind smile and patted your shoulder, something you’d never allowed before but did this time without hardly thinking about it. 

Part of you wished then and there to go and tell Arthur exactly how grateful you were to him for taking those steps that day, for breaking down your walls. But it seemed unlikely you would ever begin to know how to even put your feelings into words, nonetheless utter them to him. 

Now you’re riding behind him on your horse, heading towards Strawberry. You’d just finished with a job Micah brought around, wanting to rob a stage. The job was predictably a mess, every job Micah brought always was, but you and Arthur managed to get through it unscathed despite getting ambushed by the O’Driscolls in a river.

After Micah headed off with his portion of the stolen money, you noted that it was growing late in the day. Too late to begin heading back to camp, which would take a whole day in it of itself. Arthur noticed too and suggested going to Strawberry, which wasn’t far off, and you could get yourselves a bath and some real food. 

As the two of you enter the saloon in the town (which only serves the most diluted alcohol as it prides itself on being dry), Arthur takes your hand in his. While you both eat and talk, he keeps constant contact between you, whether its your hands touching or his knee against yours. He likes doing this, and you figure it must feel nice for him too as there aren’t many people he can be physically intimate with either. 

After eating, you both head over to the hotel. You pay for a bath right after Arthur pays for a room. “I should’ve paid for that,” he grumbles. 

“You don’t have to buy me everything, Arthur,” you retort. 

At the top of the stairs, you kiss Arthur before heading into the bath. Part of you wonders if he’s on the brink of asking if he can join. You’re not entirely sure you would say no. But he doesn’t. He just gives you a smile and heads into the room. 

After scrubbing yourself clean, you begin thinking about Arthur. Intimately. As you think about him and what you might like to do with him, you suddenly realize that you’d have to be completely vulnerable to him. No more dark corners to hide in. Can you do it? You’re still learning to be open with yourself, would it even be possible to be so raw and passionate with Arthur? 

As you continue to soak in the tub, you think about the past sexual encounters you’ve had. None of them had been passionate or out of love. Hell, none of them were even good. You’ve only had sex a handful of times, if you could even call it sex. None of them involved penetration, all the men had been drunk and you’d just lured them into thinking they were getting lucky so you could knock them out and rob them. Sure, you’d gotten naked and maybe even had to be a little handsy with one or two of them, but you’d been comforted by the knowledge they’d remember nothing of you or your body. But Arthur is sober. He will remember.

Suddenly you realize you want to do this with him. Something in your gut tells you it’s right. Perhaps by doing this you can completely free yourself of the chains you’ve worn most of your life. You want this. 

Before you have the chance to overthink things and talk yourself out of this, you climb out of the tub. Once you’ve dried yourself off, you purposefully avoid the mirror. Seeing yourself like this will definitely convince you not to show Arthur, how could he want to look at something so horrible? You try not to think of it and you see a silky bathrobe hanging near the door. 

After putting it on, you grab your clothes and head out and open the door to the room. Arthur’s sitting on the bed, writing in his journal. You’ve been tempted to read it but never wanted to invade his privacy like that. You’d be mad as hell if someone read your journal. 

Just as you toss your clothes into a corner, Arthur looks up and then his eyes widen at the sight of you in nothing but the bathrobe. 

“What you doin’, darlin’?” he asks. 

You bite your lip and head over to the side of the bed he’s sitting on. You feel slightly stupid, but try to squash the doubts that are quickly growing in your mind. 

You finally speak, trying to keep your voice steady despite how much you’re shaking. “I want you to see me, Arthur. All of me. I’m tired of hiding.” 

With that, you untie the robe, slip it open and then let it fall to the floor. You’re completely naked now. He swallows and his eyes leave yours and roam down your body. It’s hard but you resist the urge to cross your arms over yourself. 

Finally Arthur’s eyes return to yours and he stands up. “You sure, sweetheart?” he asks softly. You nod. 

“You’re shakin’, darlin’. Can I?” He lifts his hands to show he wants to touch you. 

With your heart pounding a million miles, you give him a stiff nod. You fully expect him to touch you somewhere intimately but instead he puts his hands on your shoulders. He bends down and kisses you softly, his hands gliding down your back. He hesitates and then goes to the cushioned flesh of your rear. He squeezes a bit and then his hands slide up your back. 

“You okay?” he asks as you’re still trembling. You nod once again and he smiles. Then his hands leave your body and he begins unbuttoning his shirt. You push his hands away and do it for him, suddenly hungry to see him in the same condition as yourself. 

The second you rip his shirt off, you drink in the sight of him. God he looks good. Broad shoulders, toned arms. The shape of his chest, the hair going down it, spattering across his stomach and trailing down beneath his pants. You admire the arch showing the definition of his ribs on his stomach. 

Just as you reach for his pants, he stops you and his hands gently slide around your neck. You almost flinch as you’re incredibly worried about your neck (having been attacked there far too many times), but he doesn’t squeeze or harm you at all. As you undo his gun belt and begin pulling his pants open, he kisses you. 

Finally his pants fall and you look down to admire his body. He looks better than your imagination gave him credit, and then your eyes go to his cock. Despite only being semi hard, he’s already a good size. You wonder how much bigger he can get. 

Just as you reach for him to test it, he stops you. “Darlin’, I wanna try somethin’. Somethin’ that might help ya.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, you’re shakin’ like a leaf, darlin’. I know you ain’t that cold. You mind if I?” He gestures again that he wants to touch you and you nod, feeling a little more relaxed. 

His hands go to your hips and then he moves you so your back is to the bed and then, slowly and gently, he lays you down onto your back. Predicting where he wants to be, you spread your legs for him. Part of you just wants to get this over with so you can put your clothes back on, but that’s the part of you that’s dominated your life, the part that has kept you in hiding. You push it down and remind yourself to try to enjoy this. 

However, Arthur does not dive in. He isn’t touching you at all in fact. You look at him and glance down to his cock, which still isn’t fully erect. Your eyes go back to his, questioning. 

“Darlin’, I wanna touch you. I wanna touch you everywhere.” 

You realize he’s asking permission. He will not do anything without your consent. Feeling comforted, you nod and force yourself to stay still. 

Once again, he surprises you by not going directly to your intimate parts. Instead, his hands find yours and he traces them. His hands are warm, completely opposite of your own, and then he glides down your forearms, leaving goose bumps in his wake. Then down to your shoulders, across your clavicles and to your neck. You find yourself tilting your head back to allow him to touch you better, something you’d never do normally, but he feels so good. 

After studying your neck, his hands glide down and then he cups your breasts. You let out a pleasant sigh as he studies them, his calloused fingers roaming your flesh and then rolling your nipples between his fingers. It’s here you realize how wet you’re getting and you spread your legs a little more, showing him where you want him. But he doesn’t go there.

His hands glide down your stomach, almost tickling the skin. Finally he’s near your pubic area, but once again he avoids it, brushing down your thighs, down to your knees, your calves and finally your feet. He gently squeezes your feet, releasing some of the soreness there. 

By this time, you’re still trembling, but not out of fear. You need him. You need him to enter you. Your body is pleading for you to tell him. 

As if he can read your mind, or rather your body, his hands slip between your knees and he pulls them up and apart, completely exposing your most intimate area. You watch his face as he studies what you have to offer him and then you look down at him. He’s fully erect by now.

Just as you’re thinking about sitting up and grabbing him, his hands slide down your inner thighs. Then he spreads your folds and slips two fingers in, rubbing your most sensitive region. You let out a gasp. God, you’ve never felt this kind of physical pleasure before. As he rubs you, you can’t help but move your hips in time with his hand. He stimulates your center a few times and then his fingers move to your opening, sliding in slowly. 

“God, girl,” he groans softly. “Somethin’ tells me you’re enjoyin’ this.” 

“Arthur,” you whine. You need his cock inside of you. Your eyes meet and he smiles teasingly. 

Finally his fingers slide out of you and then you feel his head brush your opening. Your eyes are closed and you prepare yourself to take him. 

“I want you to watch this, darlin’,” he says in his deep voice. You force yourself to open your eyes and look down to your nearly joined bodies. Then you watch as he pushes himself slowly, inch by inch, into you. As he enters, he spreads your walls. It’s a little tight and slightly uncomfortable, but you spread your legs more to allow him to keep going. 

The second he’s completely within you, it’s like the last piece of the puzzle has been put down. This feels right, it feels good. It’s like this was all meant to be. His hands grab your hips and then he begins bucking, softly at first. 

You groan under him. God, his movement is exactly what you need. The way he pulses in and out of you, nothing could be better. His thrusts force you to pant. 

“Arthur… Arthur…” you mutter over and over. 

“You sound so pretty,” he purrs. 

With the encouragement of your moans, he begins going faster and harder. As he does, you feel the last few walls begin to tumble. You’re one with him. It feels odd, silly even, that you’ve spent your entire adult life being so blocked off from your own emotions. What you feel now is something you didn’t even know you were capable of. 

Arthur continues to pound himself into you, in and out. 

“Arthur,” you say, but he doesn’t respond. Probably thinks you’re just saying his name out of please. “Arthur, I… I feel so good. I… I think I…. I love you.” 

Arthur suddenly stops and your heart plummetts. Do you really love him or are you just saying that out of the ecstasy of sex? You look at him, your eyes searching his. He doesn’t look angry or disappointed like you were worried he would be. Instead, he looks amazed.

“What did you say?” he asks.

“I… I think I love you. You’ve made me realize I can be open with myself, and with you. I’ve been doing a lot of searching within myself when it comes to you, Arthur, and I… I love you.” 

His face slips into a grin and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. “Oh Y/N. I been hopin’ I could hear you say that for some time. I’ve loved you since that first time you and I touched.” 

You smile and can’t help but let a tear fall down the side of your face. He rubs it away and then he bends down to kiss you. As he does, you push your hips up to remind him of what you’re doing. He responds by thrusting again. His lips glide down and take hold of your neck where he kisses as he builds back to his rhythm. You clutch onto his back to anchor yourself. He seems more fervent this time around. Perhaps with your feelings for him no longer being a question, he can truly make love to you. 

After a minute of pounding and kissing, he speaks up. “You close?” 

“I’m… I’m getting there,” you say. Arthur’s cock twitches as he thrusts, brushing your spot. You groan in response to this. 

“I want ya to come for me, darlin’.” 

“Oh Arthur. Keep…. Keep going. Oh God.” 

As if he knows exactly the kind of stimulation you need, his hand goes between your bodies and slips into your fold once again. He begins rubbing your clit in time with his bucking. 

“Oh God. Arthur!” you hiss as the pleasure of his touch threatens to overwhelm you. It feels as though there’s one last wall preventing from doing so, but it’s being chiseled away. You want it to fall, you need it to. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just let it go.” 

Arthur rubs you hard, his cock brushing your spot again and again. As his fingers trail over your nub yet again, you suddenly feel the wall come crashing down. As it does, your back arches, your toes curl and your head pushes into the bed. Arthur rubs you again and again, forcing the wall to continue falling. 

The moment it collapses, you feel yourself completely give in to the raw passion that’s been trying to claw its way out. You let out a low howl as Arthur continues to pound into you, his fingers still trailing over your clit. 

“Arthur!” you practically shout, no longer caring for who might hear you. Your walls clench around him and suddenly you feel him pulse and then something hot seeps out, filling you. You and Arthur have come at the same time it seems. 

Finally, you start to come down from your high, allowing you to breath again. You settle into the bed, panting. Arthur’s breathing hard too, his skin has taken on a slight sheen. 

“Good girl,” he growls into your ear and then he pulls his softening cock out, leaving you feeling slightly empty. 

“Oh Arthur,” is all you can manage. He smiles and falls onto his back. After a few seconds, you turn over and curl up against his side, wanting to stay close to him. Your hand wanders over his chest, trailing through the hair, and then you reach up and kiss him. As you do, you feel there’s so much more being said through the kiss than any that have come before.

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Two

Summary: Ben tells reader some bad news.

W/C: 1.8k

Warnings: Mention of cancer

<<Previous, Next>>

A few weeks went by. Most of it was the usual business that happens in the office. One thing that was not, but became a usual occurrence, was talking to Ben. 

Throughout these weeks, you talked quite often. Almost every day. 

Often, he had to come to your office to coordinate with a few things for a new book that was being published. You would talk while you did, helping the time pass. Most of what you told him was stories with Siara, which helped him gauge how her personality changed since high school. In the process, you also gave him tips on what to do if she was mad, cranky, and more.

In return, he talked about his friends. All of whom lived everywhere other than here. Ben said how he has a lot of people he gets along with, but he’s not too close with any of them. Well, except you and Siara. 

Listening to his stories, he also delighted you in some from law school.

By this time, you had figured out how you knew him. You remembered not only school, but the cafe as well. This all confirmed your theory of why he left, but that day was never brought up.

“Siara has been the first one I’ve talked to in a while that I get along with easily. Same with you. Everyone else, I find, is nice but not very talkative,” he said after a small pause.

“Trust me,” you put a hand on his shoulder that slightly stiffened but quickly relaxed, “with time, they’ll open up. At first, it was the same for me as well. But after a few weeks, when they get used to you being here, they’ll act as if they never only made small talk.” 

Your words helped him relax and you felt the tension in his shoulder release a little more. Grinning, he gave you a nod of thanks as you brought your hand back with the other on your keyboard.

Turning back to the paper in front of him, he asked a few more questions for the project before leaving. The day was over after that, and you had personal plans to relieve the stress of work. Otherwise you’d ask if he wanted to talk longer.

Grabbing what you needed, you headed out.

Walking home, it was calm for the usual rush hour. Though this was a quieter part of the city, the traffic still gets bad some days. Today, the quietness helped as you took in a deep breath of the fresh air. 

The office was only a fifteen minute walk away from your house, making the commute enjoyable in your mind. It helped you relax for a bit.

Arriving at your single floor home, you stayed and read on the comfort of your couch until the last of the sun had disappeared from the sky. Then, it was time for you to leave and do something you did quite often. Going to the park to lay on a patch of grass to watch the stars and, most of all, admire the moon. 

The park was only a few minutes away. Like usual, the park was empty at this time of night. This left the walk on the path quiet and letting you begin to calm yourself at the sound of the gentle breeze waltzing through the trees.

Finding the usual patch of grass that was on a slight incline, you sat down and took in your surroundings before laying down. A few long blades of grass brushed your face, making you giggle at the ticklish sensation. You brought your arms up and placed your hands under your head as a pillow. Closing your eyes, you let yourself slip into a state of meditation, sensing and taking in everything around you.

The crisp night air was a refreshing change to the long day of heat that had faded. It ran a cool trail through your lungs, only to be warmed again as you breathed out. 

You slowed your breathing, drawing in long breaths each time. Leaves being rustled in the trees as it danced along with the light gusts of wind deepened your meditation and calm. 

Opening your eyes, the large moon lit up the sky, being assisted by the many shining stars that surrounded it. Instead of taking away the moon's beauty, it only made it more evident. Everything was perfect.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice sounded from behind you. 

Startled, you instantly sat straight up, feeling a slight sense of embarrassment flow through you. Turning around, you saw a figure standing on the dirt path. He looked familiar.

“Oh I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” 

It was Ben. You could tell it was his voice as he sounded frantic to make it known that he didn’t mean to startle you. He hung his head down as if he were mad at himself for scaring you in the moment. 

He continued, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I didn’t know it was you otherwise I would’ve stayed silent.”

“Ben, it’s fine.” You saw him raise his head with a small, forced grin. “I just come here often and I’ve never come across another person here. Well, not at this time of day, anyway.”

“I’m sorry, I can leave i-if-” he started to turn away.

“No, don't worry about it. It’s fine,” you cut him off, seeing him stop mid turn. 

As you looked at him, his features were complimented in the moonlight. It was something that mesmerized you, like the moon. A light illuminating the darkness of night. 

Then, you noticed that you were staring at him and you worried about how long it was for.

“May I?” Ben took a small step forward as he gestured to the area beside you. Nodding your response, he slowly made his way down, but not without first hesitating. 

Quietly, you laughed to yourself. You’ve noticed in the last few weeks that he’s very courteous and gentlemanly. Always punctual as well, putting aside the first day. Yet you wouldn’t be surprised if he had gotten there on time but hesitated and waited for someone else to arrive before he entered.

Letting himself sit beside you, he leaned back, supporting himself with his elbows and put one leg over the other. For yourself, you brought your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. Oddly, you felt very comfortable with Ben here. You had always thought it was better alone, but this seemed more enjoyable.

The two of you sat in silence before Ben said, “Thank you.”

This confused you, “For what?”

“Helping me adjust to the new work environment, the tips, tricks and just letting me talk. It’s not something I’m used to,” he replied while looking at the stars. Then he turned to look at you, “Also, thank you for not turning me away.” 

You looked over at him to give him a smile, but was met with a down expression when he looked away for a moment. As he looked back up at you, he gave a forced grin.

“Are you okay?” You had to ask. It seemed like something was getting him down and something desperately wanted to help. 

From these few weeks of talking he became a good friend. You also knew that he was a pretty upbeat person. Everything he talked about had an energy, a passion that made him look kind and determined.

He took a deep, shaky breath but stayed silent for a few moments. You could see the glisten of tears slowly building up in his eyes.

“When I got to my apartment,” he started shakily, “I had a message on my answering machine from my mother telling me to call her. And, when I did sh-she told me-” 

His tears started to roll down his face, but he contained himself enough to say the rest. 

“She told me that she was waiting to receive results for if she ha-had can-” Ben broke down into tears, curling forward, holding his face in his hands. 

Even though he didn’t say it fully, he didn’t need to. You could easily piece the rest together.

Hearing him cry made your heart sink. You placed your hand on his back and gently rubbed it in comfort. Your own tears welled up in your eyes from the moment. 

Suddenly, he leaned over, resting his head on the side of your knee. You didn’t mind. Not only because of the situation, but because it felt natural. 

For a while, you continued to lightly rub his back. You did this until he calmed down enough.

Sitting back up, he sniffed and wiped his face dry. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

“Nonsense, you have no need to apologize. I’m just glad you aren't alone.” Saying this in a soft tone, you watched him gather himself up, taking a deep, wavering breath. 

Bringing his knees against his chest, you were both silent for a few moments.

“Do you know when she’s going to get the results?”

“She said in the next two to three days. All she told me is that she found a lump and they aren’t sure if it’s cancerous or a simple bacterial growth,” he replied. You rubbed his shoulder and then turned back to look up at the sky, dropping your hand from his shoulder.

You saw him slightly shiver. You would’ve dismissed it had you not missed having your hand resting against him. 

To shove this away, you cleared your throat and thought of an idea.

“Stay home until you find out. I’ll talk to Siara. I’m sure she’ll do fine by herself for a few days.”

You watched as he looked to you in surprise. It was like he thought he’d be forced to go to work through something like this.

You gave a small grin, “If you need more time after that, take it. We have more than enough people to cover so that you can use this time to be with your mom during this.” 

You met each other’s gazes, Ben gave a smile of thanks. Something about it warmed your heart.

For the next couple of hours, Ben stayed. It was spent mostly in silence, only a few words were exchanged. What you didn’t pay attention to was the time. 

When you looked at your watch, you cursed under your breath as you bolted up. 

Ben looked up, concerned, “Is everything alright?”

“Yes but I wasn’t paying attention to the time, leading me to stay longer than I meant to.” You started to stand. 

You took a few steps and then paused, turning back to Ben.

“And you better stay home otherwise I’ll be kicking you out of the building.” He laughed at that as you said bye, walking away quickly. 

Usually you’d stay longer, but tomorrow was an early start.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003

[sleeplessincairo]

[ dating steve rogers would include: ]

warnings: just a few cusses and a few sexual implications

///

He's an absolute gentlemen even in awkward, but adorable ways:

He’s always asking for permission before taking action whether it’s asking if you’re okay with him wrapping his arms around you in public or if you mind him kissing you even if you’ve been dating for 6 months.

He’s always racing to your side of the car or to the entrance of any room/building just so he can open the door for you-But despite him being super human, you still manage to beat him to it sometimes.

He even sometimes sprawls his jacket across a puddle just so your shoes don’t get wet, but you usually end up jumping in the puddle and splashing the water everywhere with an innocent grin. You do appreciate the thought and effort, though.

He constantly offers you his jacket just in case you’re cold and even sometimes goes ahead and drapes it over your shoulders, because he knows how stubborn you are to actually bother accepting it or asking for it.

He absolutely HAS to walk or drive you home every time just to make sure you arrive home safely and make sure no knucklehead dares to mess with you, but when you refuse to let him go through all that trouble he settles for ‘observing from a distance’ which is basically him stalking you.

Despite him having the spontaneous job of being a superhero, he never keeps you waiting too long-Mostly because of him missing his dance with Peggy by years resulted in him being as punctual as he can.

The list goes on...From him pulling your seat out for you to sit on and helping you put on your coat to paying for every date regardless of your protests.

In the beginning, he was extremely shy and flustered to the point where he would stutter uncontrollably and question every move he made so he wouldn't embarrass himself.

At the end of your dates, He tried to kiss you but usually ended up chickening out and end up kissing your cheek instead.

But finally, when he walked you to your apartment on your 4th date, he stood there awkwardly stuttering a goodnight while staring directly at your lips, only for you to grab him by the collar of his shirt and kiss him yourself.

When Tony heard the story of you being the one to make the first move and kiss him, he stayed about a whole month teasing Steve about it.

"Is (Y/N) gonna be the first one to make a move in the bedroom too, Steve?"

Him giving you those adorable sideways smiles with his eyes glimmering with adoration that’s reserved just for you.

You teaching him about the latest technology, slang, and trends after realizing that getting Tony to do it was a completely bad idea-He ended up just telling Cap’ either completely incorrect things or just things that would give him a good laugh.

“Wow (Y/N), that’s so fetch.”

"Alright let me get this straight, you tag people? Wasn’t that a game people played where you chase someone and if you touch them, they're it? Did they make that into an...app-apparatus?"

A lot of ‘Wait, I didn’t mean to send that’

You get to see the clumsy, imperfect, and wounded side of Captain America the world doesn’t get to see; you get to witness all the ‘Him getting up in the middle of the night to pee and accidentally stepping on his shield, making it hit him in the shin’s, all the sleepless nights spent together because the nightmares are getting too vivid, all the regrets and disappointments he holds for himself because he was too late, all the insecurities that eat him alive because of him having all of this strength and these abilities yet still not being enough, all the reckless and deadly actions he makes without even a second thought because he’s just not used to having someone to live for, the way he slightly flinches when Thor summons and uses his powers, all the times he misplaces his shield to the point where Tony ends up putting a tracker in it, the emptiness of his apartment because he’s too afraid to settle down, the bright red color that seeps through his cheeks when you press your body tightly against his, all the low swears that escape through his mouth when he thinks no one can hear him, all the uncertainties and hesitations that he never dares to show because he’s ‘Captain freaking America’. You get to witness all his deepest fears, thoughts, and feelings. You get to witness and love Steve Rogers.

Steve always making sure that his superhero life doesn't affect his private life especially when said superhero life concludes of spontaneous and agonizingly long missions. He makes it his personal duty to make time for dates, events, and well, you.

Steve doesn't like bullies. He doesn’t care who they are.

Steve woke up from almost 75 years of being frozen in ice after fighting wars and battles, fighting for America and it’s freedom only to wake up and find out the world is still a dark place and he can’t help but think that all his friends died for nothing. Steve makes it his new mission to fight for equality and power to the people, to make sure everyone has a voice, to make sure no one is overlooked or ignored, to make sure that everyone gets the God-given rights they have.

Captain America symbolizes freedom and protection and he'll be damned if he can’t offer minorities the freedom and protection they DESERVE. Captain America has always been for standing up for the little guy, for following what’s right not the law. Captain America is the symbol of how America should be.

Steve Rogers was a fugitive of the law at some point, there is no way he’d hold back on joining in on women’s marches, protests and riots, and pride parades.

Steve Rogers volunteering at Youth Centers to teach kids self-defense and offering them the guidance, support, and comfort Bucky always managed to offer him.

Steve Rogers protecting people from police brutality-His insomnia and Tony’s drones helped him keep an eye out for it and other forms of harassment.

Steve refusing to reinforce nor aid any governments that took part in the oppression of it’s own citizens and worked hard to striving for a better life for them with the help of T’challa and Tony help creating a treaty that ensures it.

A lot of slow dancing and slight swaying while being wrapped in each others arms.

Especially to Billie Holiday. Boy, is he a fan of Billie Holiday.

He's not exactly supportive of technology due to the unfortunate difference in human interactions between the 40s and now, so he sticks to some of his old habits.

Instead of sending text messages or calling during missions, he mostly writes you letters. Every single different alias he uses for each letter is inscribed into your brain.

Instead of staying home all day, he takes you out to soak in the beautiful weather of New York and tells you about how it used to be back in the 40’s.

Instead of watching a movie on your laptop or the TV, he takes you to the local cinema or even a drive-in.

Oh, how he loves taking you to the Smithsonian Museum just so he can point out all the inaccurate facts and exhibitions in display.

Leaving each other sticky notes everywhere to remind each other of events because of the fact that his unstable working hours so you don’t see each other much for you to tell each other face to face. Slowly, the both of you ended up developing a habit of leaving short cute love notes on each other’s things-Every single sticky note is saved in your own special places but Steve takes a few with him whenever he goes on missions to keep him company.

Although, you’d never tell Steve this, but his handwriting is absolutely terrible. Despite him being quite the artist, reading his notes is like decoding what a doctor’s prescription note says. However, with every not he wrote you, you started recognizing the way his I’s look like E’s, the way he curves and arcs his letters like he’s drawing loops, and the way punctuation is a stranger to him and soon enough it was like you were reading your own handwriting. You did enjoy decoding the notes he leaves you everyday. It was like a secret language only you could understand.

Him taking you to Brooklyn and telling you stories of the trouble he'd get himself into in EVERY spot.

He told you about how he almost got arrested at the Old Stone House because he snuck in there with Bucky. All because they couldn’t wait for the Grand re-opening. Bucky managed to talk the police out of it by lying to them, and saying that Steve had 2 weeks left to live and how it was his dying wish to see the place.

Oh, and how he had his first kiss with Leslie Jordan in front of Bamonte’s during their first and only date in the 11th grade. He remembered all the fights he got into with the jerks in his class that were always picking on her because of the birthmark on her face, he remembered all the times they sat together because no one wanted to sit with them, he remembered how he asked her to the school dance because every girl deserved the chance to have a special slow dance with a boy, he remembered how he saved up so that they could eat at that fancy italian place-Bamonte’s-afterwards. She ended up switching schools and moving to Wisconsin the following week.

Steve told you about all the places that were rundown and were there before all the replacements and modifications, all his happy childhood memories, all the alleys he got his ass kicked in, all the places him and Bucky got kicked out of. But it wasn’t until after you met Bucky and shared hundreds of stories about Steve that you realized that even before the serum Steve was still a fucking dumbass that went headfirst into reckless and dangerous trouble; Now, he didn’t jump out of planes without a parachute back then but he did climb 3 floors up the side of his apartment building just because he felt like it.

Helping and comforting Steve after Peggy dies and being his shoulder to cry on, to lean on, to hide his dorky smile in, and rest his head on that fit perfectly as if it was hand sculpted by God himself just for Steve.

He tells you everything. Absolutely everything. From how many punching bags he managed to make fly today to telling you about his failed missions or missions with casualties-Sometimes he didn’t even need to verbally tell you, you could tell what happened by the slouch of his shoulders and the lack of glimmer in his oh-so-bright eyes.

Jesus, the man can swear like a goddamn sailor. It took him about 2 months for him to feel comfortable enough swear in the presence of a lady, but it was expected that he’d break at some point considering all the pent up rage he has bottled up. The man makes punching bags fly for God’s sake! Not to mention the fact that he was in the army with the Howling Commandos of all people. He just couldn’t help the series of cusses that flew past his lips when-despite the years of training-he accidentally hits himself with his shield, the ‘Fucks’ and ‘Shits’ that escaped through clenched teeth when he got injured during a mission, the soft profanities whispered against your neck as you came apart underneath him, the loud and consistent obscenities that forced his way out of his throat during his road rage-God help anyone who dares to ride in a car with Steve Rogers. You asked him to drive you to work ONCE during rush hour while your car was in the shop and oh boy, he let out words so colorful and vibrant they’d bring Tony Stark to tears.

Tony having a habit of interrupting you and Steve whenever you’re clearly having a moment.

“Did I walk in on some pre-fonduing?” Of course Howard told Tony about it during one of this drunken rants about Captain America, The Living God, and of course Tony would bring it up from time to time just to see Steve’s face turn redder than the Ironman armor.

Getting a mini heart attack whenever you hear about another reckless thing he did despite him telling you that he’d be more careful.

At some point, Bucky and Natasha become your personal spies who inform you of every Godforsaken idiotic thing he does

“You got into a brawl with a God, seriously?"

"Well, so did Tony.”

“AGAIN? You jump out of a plane without a parachute AGAIN?”

He gets homesick quite often but thankfully you’re there to help him through it with ‘Miracle on 34th Street’ and ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ ready for him at any moments notice as well as trips to Coney Island and the Stark Expo, but mostly, even if Steve doesn’t admit it, your presence is what helps him through it. The way you run your fingers through his hair and draw circles with them on his skin takes him back to simpler times when he was a little boy lying in the arms of his beloved mother, Sarah. A time of safety and comfort.

Helping him go through his To-Do list.

One of the most precious memories you have of him was when he saw Rocky for the first time with you, he was in awe of the storyline and the colors-He was put in a wonderous state after seeing the deep red color of blood being spat onto the floor, the sweat shimmer of Rocky’s face darimg his opponent to come at him, the overwhelming saturation and hue of actually seeing colors on a screen, of no longer seeing the dull and bland black-and-white pictures he was so used to.

You’re pretty sure he has Marvin Gaye’s entire discography memorized by heart at this point. Steve is eternally grateful to Sam to mentioning Troubleman to him because it was the start of a great obsession.

Training with him. Steve Rogers will personally wake you up for a morning run everyday and honestly you wouldn’t mind it if he didn’t wake you up everyday at the break of dawn. He can’t help it though. Sleep has become a stranger to him since he’s been back.

You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t enjoy it, running with him side-by-side during the rare moments where the city was actually asleep offered you solace. Sometimes the both of you would talk, othertimes you’d run in silence, but mostly on each run you’d use it as a chance to help him catch up on another music album you thought was culturally important for him to know-Dating Steve really diversified your music taste.

He’s a hugger. He just loves embracing you in any possible way whether its linking his arms around you while you’re working, resting his head on your shoulder and hugging you from behind while you’re cooking, or pulling you onto his lap so he can breathe in your scent while he’s doing paperwork.

He has dozens of notebooks filled with hundreds of illustrations he drew of you and The Avengers. You’ve got a few hung up on your fridge but your favorite is definitely the drawing he made of a ring, set in between the cushions of a tiny blue box, that he gave you right before he bent down on one knee.

[janekfan]

aah i just sent this prompt but tumblr told me it didn't send so if it sent twice ignore this!! so prompt: how about early s2, where jon is pulling away a bit but the others are concerned about it more than angry, getting a horrific migraine. like "has to leave a team meeting early" horrific. and the others know he wants to be left alone and try to respect it, but eventually they can't just ignore it anymore. <3 if you don't like this i can try again!

Oof, migraines. Amiright??? This is based on a personal experience of mine I had in college :D

My whole floor thought I was dying and almost dragged me to the hospital.

Thank you @taylortut as always for giving me such great ideas! :D

Looking back, Jon felt incredibly foolish.

Insisting that he could persist through his day without taking medication for headaches when it resulted in the same outcome every time was the very definition of insanity.

But, in his flimsy defense, they never started out badly and he got so caught up in his work that by the time he realized what was happening, it was far, far too late to do anything but suffer it out until it ended. Which is how he found himself here, now, nearly completely blind in his right eye while Elias droned on about workplace safety and considering recent events it seemed laughably mundane because yes, back strain from lifting incorrectly certainly outweighed a sentient worm queen trying to devour your assistants.

Filled with a desperate desire to rub away the disorientating blind spot, Jon let his focus slip over his employees.

Tim: bored. Not doing anything to hide it and Jon supposed he was at fault for that too, because he was certainly not paying Elias any mind.

Sasha: attentive. Most likely thinking of something else entirely while she nodded along to the lecture notes at the appropriate places.

Martin: engrossed. Despite his suspicions, mostly due to the constant checking in with him about how he was feeling, and really, maybe that was on him because maybe that’s what coworkers did after bravely surviving an onslaught of supernatural entities together. Despite them, he found it. Pleasant? Pleasant. That he would commit the effort to pay such careful attention.

Jon: quickly realizing this meeting would not be finished by the time the majority of the pain struck him like an oncoming lorry. By his estimations, based on when he first noticed the aura as a funny spot in his peripheral he tried to see around, he had roughly three minutes left.

Elias continued to endlessly intone while the buzzing lights continued to beat down on him and Jon fought against closing his eyes against them both and their ceaseless stabbing. Two minutes. Probably less and the anxiety which accompanied knowing almost exactly when he was about to be incapacitated rose like a tide and threatened to drag him under. Jon began to shake minutely as the agony manifested like an icepick in the back of his head and spread its grasping, greedy fingers. It took the rest of his very limited restraint to stay silent and keep breathing; shallow and slow, controlled and careful because the nausea was beginning to set in and throwing up during a staff meeting was at the very least, unwise.

But oh he needed somewhere silent, somewhere he could hide in total darkness and not move until he was able to force himself to sleep, to sleep, to sleep because that was the only way he’d found to make it through to the other side.

“Jon?” He was standing, blinking unevenly, fighting with himself and his desire to shield his face with both hands. The sound of his name was too loud. So loud and the murmuring of the others in the room created a beautiful sensory nightmare and if they knew his head was about to split open would they really be speaking so loudly? Doubtful. Martin. Martin wouldn’t at least.

“I’m leaving.” Inadequate, but he didn’t have the wherewithal to elaborate even if in his right mind he wouldn’t. And this wasn’t even the worst of it.

Each step was a rung up the ladder of agony and he’d taken to trailing a hand against the wall, not trusting his quickly dwindling balance and equilibrium. Rudely, without his express permission, a sob snuck past his clenched teeth and he just had to make it down the stairs, into the archives. Into the dark. The cot was still in document storage and the room would be dim and quiet and he could sleep. Please, let him sleep. Trembling so badly he could barely work the door handle, desperation doing its level best to claw its way through his ribcage, Jon began to panic. Gently, gently, gently, he closed the door behind him, trying to breathe because not breathing would make it worse. The buttons at his throat were so tight, the vest, while comfortable this morning was strangling him and he fought his way out of it like a tiger before all but tearing open his collar.

Sh. Shh. You’re alright. Shaky. Ill. But alright and you will be alright. Jon collapsed to the cot, sighing at the momentary relief laying down provided but there was still so much light and it was like glass behind his eyes even though they were closed as tightly as he dared close them. The blanket that had been left behind was very contradictory, too much and not nearly enough, and when it brushed the bare skin of his arms it felt like sandpaper but he wanted more of it. More weight so he could relax without feeling as though he was going to drift away because who even knew which way was up anymore? If he hadn’t left the meeting, he could’ve asked.

Don’t cry. Do. Not. Jonathan Sims. It made it worse, so much worse so he kept his tears trapped behind a false calm. Each time he’d thought he would die from one of these or at the very least prefer it and each time he woke the next day groggy and sore and exhausted, useless for anything except more sleep. He dropped his glasses on the floor, hugged his middle with one arm and threw the other over his face.

Please, please, please.

Just go to sleep.

“I’ll thank the rest of you for continued attention.” Martin nodded absently, worried. Jon didn’t just walk out of meetings. And he’d been so pale, rubbing his temple and wincing. A bad headache? He got those sometimes.

Didn’t like to be bothered about them either.

He caught Tim staring at him over the table, done with his paperclip sculpture for now it seemed, and he nodded just slightly toward the door with a questioning look. Martin just shrugged discreetly, now too distracted to pay attention to whatever Elias deemed important enough to waste their time with after an attack on the archives. Needless to say, the rest of the hour passed excruciatingly slow and as soon as they were released, Martin headed straight for Jon’s office, momentarily confused when it was empty.

“Not there?” Martin shook his head and Tim frowned in concern. “The cot? Maybe he needed a lie down?”

“You’re probably right.”

“Still strange.” He nodded in agreement, already headed to check, knocking quietly on the worn wood.

“Jon?” Martin swore he heard something suspiciously like a whimper before his voice floated through the door.

“Yes, Martin?” It was strange, off, wavery? The tail end of a gasping breath.

“You just, you left in such a hurry.” He’d give anything to open the door and see for himself. “Are you feeling well?”

“I’m. Yes, Martin, I’m, I’m alright.” Jon was many things, a good liar was not one of them, but he was the type to lick his wounds alone, preferring not to show any vulnerability and Martin would respect it. “Bit tired.”

“Okay, I’ll. Check on you in a bit then. Bring some tea.”

“Yes, alright.” Despite his worry, Martin smiled at the tiny familiar spark of frustration.

When Martin spoke his voice seemed to echo in the hollows of Jon’s bones, reverberating into his head and only exacerbating the throbbing pain, not even really aware of what he was saying, just trying to get him to go away so he could be as still as possible in silence. The more he moved, the more it felt like his stomach was trying to turn inside out and the fear of moving, of being sick, of causing himself more hurt, made tears sting at the corners of his eyes, made him itch where they slipped down his face.

If it would just stop for a moment. If he could just fall asleep. Calm down. Stand to have anything against his skin right now.

He wanted to be alone and not be alone. Wanted Martin or Tim or Sasha to, to, he didn’t know, just wanted. The strange disconnect from his physical body was maddening, confusing, and he wanted so badly for it to please stop.

When Martin looked up, Sasha was so close to his desk he startled. He hadn’t heard her but she looked worried.

“I don’t think Jon is feeling very well.”

“I don’t think so either.”

“He’s been in there all day.” Tim joined them. “Maybe we should check on him again?” Martin looked at the clock. It had been hours since he’d talked to him and he had yet to reappear.

“You’re probably right.” This time, it was definitely a hurting sound and Martin decided it was for Jon’s own good to let himself in. He’d only just recovered from Prentiss, what if the stress had made him ill? “Jon?” He was curled into himself on the cot, clothes in disarray, vest discarded and half the blanket piled atop his face. When the door closed, Jon clapped his hand over his ear, the other tangled into his button down so tight Martin was afraid he’d pop the buttons. “You’re shaking.”

“Mmartin…” the barest exhale, pleading. “S’loud…so...so loud…”

“Okay, okay, what’s wrong?” He knelt beside him, resting his hand over Jon’s. “How can I help?”

“Jus’...jus’ need t’sleep.” Shuddering, his breath caught, was released, uneven, fast, gasping. “Can’t.” He decided at that moment that sound should never come from Jon again, not if ever he could help it and the fingers that had been digging into his greying hair were now clutching Martin’s.

“Okay. I’m coming back.” Jon seemed to collapse inward like a star and it was hard to leave him but he’d seen migraines before and it had been hours since what he guessed was the onset. “Tim, do you have any paracetamol?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Jon’s not well, of course.”

“Figures.”

“This time I really think it wasn’t his fault. These things sometimes come on suddenly.” Tim grumbled, digging through his desk and heading with Martin to the breakroom for some water, waiting while he brewed a strong black tea.

“He gets a pass. One time, Martin. This one time.” While the tea cooled Martin retrieved a few cloths from the drawer and a bowl of water.

“He needs quiet. Everything is really overwhelming right now. A lot of input and nowhere for it to go.”

“You’re the boss, Marto.” With a jaunty salute, Tim followed, staying calm and quiet, kneeling down to Jon’s level before whispering a greeting. “Hey. Gonna get you fixed right up.”

“Nnng…okay.”

“Jon? We’re going to help you sit up.” With no refusal forthcoming, Tim and Martin shared a look of alarm before lifting him as though he were made of spun glass and he buried his face in Martin’s soft, well worn jumper. “Good, Jon.” Martin pressed his palm against his forehead and found it cold and a little clammy, his clothes clung slightly with sweat and it seemed like he had trouble coordinating his limbs.

“Hur’s…” trembling, his muscles spasmed randomly, and Tim had to help hold his hand steady enough for a dose of paracetamol while Martin followed quickly with the bitter tea, washing the taste away with a sip of water.

“Okay, love. Doing such a good job. Almost done.” More tears. He went to nod, instead ending up with his head hanging, neck too tired to hold it up any longer and Martin eased him back down onto the pillow. “Let me know if this is too much.” He wrung out a flannel and smoothed it over his eyes, pleased when Jon groaned in slight relief. Tim stroked his hair, soft and slow, and together they waited, watched his shivering gradually stop and his breath deepen into sleep.

Sasha met them outside the door and Martin stepped further down the hall, just in case they were loud enough to wake him.

“Well?”

“He’s asleep, bad migraine.” Martin winced in sympathy, “and hopefully he’ll sleep through until morning.”

“That’s a relief.” Collectively, they agreed. Jon had been under a lot of pressure lately and while he’d never been one to confide in them often even those moments were becoming rare

Jon felt heavy, tired and slow, and when Martin opened the door with a mug of tea in one hand and a plate of toast in the other, he reasoned that he hadn’t dreamt the entirety of the day previous. Which meant he did sit through most of Elias’ dry speech about safety.

Embarrassing. To have walked out like that.

“Martin.” The memory of gentle hands and a soft voice made him flush.

“Jon, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, uh, much better. Thank you.” Sitting up was only somewhat a chore, the dizziness faded into the background for the most part. The fogginess was expected and would last a few days but for now he accepted the tea graciously, eyed the toast suspiciously, and settled on another round of painkillers and a few mouthfuls until he thought he might be pushing it. “Thank you, Martin.” He’d been in a bad way and at his wit’s end before he and Tim essentially rescued him. Passing back the empty mug and setting the remaining toast aside, Jon decided he deserved a lie in especially considering he was in that fragile inbetween where turning his head too fast would trigger another one. “If you see Tim before me, would you pass on my gratitude?”

“‘Course I will” Martin retrieved the dishes and turned back before closing the door. “Sleep well, Jon.”

[cake-writes]

Six (5/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Story Warnings: Angst, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Eating Disorder (Reader), Fluff, Slow Burn, 18+

Summary: Bucky knew that there were more important things for him to worry about. Of course he did. He still had to work through the horrors of his past, never mind his present, which was the exact reason why he honed right in on your petty bullshit. You distracted him from the things he didn’t want to think about. You also drove him up a fucking wall.

Part Four / Master List

Put me down, you dick.

Yeah, he deserved that.

You’re a real asshole, Barnes, you know that?

Bucky absolutely did know that, and yes, he deserved that, too. He deserved each and every insult you flung his way. He internalized them, naturally, but he just couldn’t sit by and watch you kill yourself. He wouldn’t, not when you scared the hell out of him like that, when he found you all alone in the middle of the woods, unconscious and unresponsive. Although it may not have been the first time he’d seen you that way, it was the second time he thought the worst – and he panicked.

Your skin felt so cold to the touch, too cold, too clammy. He could just barely hear your shallow breaths if he listened closely enough – but he somehow kept his own steady and even despite the panic. Somehow managed to calm himself, ground himself, with gentle pats to your cheek and soft, whispered words.

Come on, pretty girl, wake up for me.

Pretty. Gorgeous. Inside and out, he’d come to realize. Platonic admiration.

At first, anyway.

He’d long since shoved the idea out of his head because you weren’t well, and neither was he. Didn’t stop the words from slipping out sometimes, though. Didn’t stop the fleeting thoughts every now and then, either.

Pretty girl. Sweetheart. Wake up for me.

No matter how sweetly Bucky tried to rouse you, however, you just wouldn’t wake, and it was all his fault. Again. He hadn’t had your six. Again.

He’d gotten on your case for months about the very thing that you couldn’t handle – drove you to starve yourself, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d made some stupid, offhand comment about your weight. It was a joke meant to lighten the mood, but in all actuality his carelessness had contributed to your downward spiral, or maybe he’d just caused it outright.

Malnourished. Dark circles, chapped lips. Half-dead, barely breathing.

His fault. All his fault.

You scared the absolute hell out of him, and rightfully so.

His fault. Always.

For all his worth, however, Bucky couldn’t quite keep his emotions in check – not during such a long, tiring, emotionally exhausting day, and as a result, he lashed out. Of course he did. He lost his temper, and he shouldn’t have. Not this time.

It certainly had something to do with the therapy session he’d attended early in the morning, the one that set him on edge for the entire day. His therapist had dredged up a hell of a lot of memories that he didn’t want to think about. Not today. Not ever. Memories about the war had been playing on a loop inside his head for hours – dark, grim, bloody memories where he’d seen at least half the men in his platoon meet their untimely deaths. Friends of his, left without a proper burial. And Italy – Italy was worse. Italy was where he’d been forced to sit by and watch even more die.

Just like now. Just like this.

Here you were, killing yourself, and all he could do was watch.

He couldn’t let that happen, and not just because he felt guilty. No, you were broken, too. Broken just like him. Two jagged pieces of glass – easily shattered, a total mess – and Bucky had found some solace in that, some comradery. If he didn’t know better, he would have called you a friend, but it wasn’t like he’d ever confided his secrets to you. Only the opposite. You’d confided in him. You’d trusted him.

Not anymore, you didn’t.

The first jab would have been when he brushed you off first thing. You’d trusted him last night, but he’d been too caught up in his own head this morning to know how to act, how to treat you – and then he found you like that, unconscious, and that ended up like this. Small fists pounding against his back, and each weak blow felt like a dagger. Death by a thousand cuts. One for each of his mistakes.

Then the barrage began to slow, before it stopped altogether, and he knew you’d given up.

Bucky, please. Don’t do this to me.

His stomach lurched at the beautifully broken syllables of his name. Quiet. Scared. Bucky.

You’d only just started calling him that recently. For months, the two of you had well and truly hated each other. You’d always driven him up a fucking wall; still did sometimes, if he was being honest and although things had become somewhat amicable, he’d never been able to open up to you. Not really. Not like how you did with him.

Why was he so afraid to trust you?

The minutes passed in insufferable silence, save for the rustle of wind in the trees and the sharp crunch of autumn leaves under every footstep. Your body sagged against him, lifeless and unmoving. You’d stopped fighting, stopped arguing, stopped caring.

That was what made him realize that he’d only won the battle, not the war. Quiet contemplation. Temporary surrender. He could take you in, but you wouldn’t comply.

When Bucky spotted the compound in the distance, he hesitated, because he knew.

Why the hell was he so afraid to trust you?

You’d done nothing but be honest with him the entire time he’d known you. You’d never lied to him, never tried to act like your disorder was anything other than it was – had you? You did try to hide it, of course you did, and he couldn’t fault you for that. He hid his problems, too. Even from you.

But relationships were a two-way street, and something had to give.

As he set you back down on your feet, his fingertips dug into your shoulders, gentle but firm. He used his grip to hold you steady because he was afraid to let go – afraid to trust you, trust that you’d be alright. He didn’t feel confident about it at all, but he let you go.

“What, aren’t you condemning me to hell?” you spat, like pure acid, but your voice sounded weak from crying. It bothered him more than it should have, and the dried tears on your cheeks made him feel even worse.

His fault.

“You’re just gonna fight some more if I take you in.” A statement, not a question. Level and even. “No sense in forcing you into treatment if you don’t care.”

At that, he caught a spark of recognition in your eyes but it disappeared as quickly as it came, replaced by righteous indignation and a frown. The moment his hands dropped back to his sides, he might have expected you to immediately turn heel and leave, maybe even run, but you didn’t. Instead, you just crossed your arms.

“No shit, Barnes. What tipped you off?”

Not ‘Bucky’ anymore.

He had to trust you. He had to give.

“It’s just…” This time he sounded a little more unsure, not at all like his calm, controlled demeanour whilst carrying you like a sack of potatoes. “If someone forced me into therapy a year ago, I don’t think I would have gone along with it.”

The implication was clear: you wouldn’t either.

That was when the sharp edge to your features started to soften, and when you spoke again, your voice was softer, too, even if it did still have some bite to it. “What changed your mind?”

“I think I wanted to move on.”

Honesty.

“And have you?”

Bucky shoved his hands into his pockets and looked away, already feeling defensive and out of his element because he knew the answer was ‘no’. He may have worked through some things with his therapist, but he’d never be able to move on. Not really.

Your derisive snort set him off in an instant. Mocking. Spiteful, and Bucky’s eyes snapped back to you. Here he was, opening up a little, trying to make amends, doing the best he fucking could and you thought it was funny—

But then he saw the smile on your lips, and those bitter words caught in his throat. You were smiling a little, smiling at him – a genuine smile, full of tears and empathy and care.

Pretty girl. Broken just like him.

“It’s hard, isn’t it?” you croaked, hastily rubbing fresh tears away with the heel of your hand. The flush that came over your face made his heart stutter in his chest; not only were you right, but you were embarrassed about it. Why?

“Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently, reaching up to pull your hand away. “Shit, I’m— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

His fault. Always.

You sniffled, small fingers lacing through larger vibranium like it was the most natural thing in the world. So small, so delicate, so god damned fragile—

A sob escaped you, followed by a choked, “I’m sorry, Bucky. I’m so sorry.”

Bucky.

Something broke inside of him, then, because his body reacted before his mind could catch up. Bucky let your hand go in favour of pulling you forward into his arms – cradled your cheek to his chest, and he soon discovered that you weren’t ice cold, not anymore. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry about.”

“But you— you keep helping me and I don’t deserve it, not after being so— so—”

He felt your shoulders shake with every sob, and his stomach twisted into knots.

“That doesn’t matter,” Bucky told you softly, stroking your hair. Hot tears soaked through his t-shirt – his fault, always his fault, but this time he pushed the blame away to focus solely on you. “Shh, I’ve got you. It’s okay.”

Fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, you buried your face in his chest and cried – a real, proper cry, ugly and uncontrollable, just like last night. Smeared makeup and mascara likely left stains, but neither of you cared. Not with him holding you so close.

Warm. So warm. So right.

“I— I don’t wanna die,” came your hushed voice, muffled by his warmth, barely audible. “I’m scared. I don’t know what to do.”

“I know, pretty girl,” he whispered into your hair. “We'll figure it out. Everything's gonna be okay.”

And for the first time, Bucky believed it, too.

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Part Six