#I love that they all had this shared moment of being childishly excited about something though

[badninken]

One Piece boys meeting a ninja and being fucking Weird about it:

When the ninja says no:

When the ninja gives up and says yes:

The boys are not being normal about the ninja

[misguidedasgardian]

I need to (5)

... Get warm

MASTERLIST

Summary: The last froze of the season takes you, a sweet summer child, by surprise 

Pairings: Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Warnings: There are mentions of them being Minors! at some point in their relationship, cursing, cheating, angst, depression, mentions of a inappropriate picture, inappropriate relationship, reader gets a minor injury, might miss some warnings 

Wordcount: 3.2 k

Notes: Uffff I really hope you like this chapter muahaha If you liked cregan by now, with this? will get you on your KNEES muahahaaaaaaaa

You woke up with a bit of  headache, but gods you loved so much being eighteen, a cup of coffee and you were going to shake up the hangover 

Sarah and Jace were already having breakfast, breakfast that Jace had cooked, you refrained from making jokes, as he was clearly trying to impress Sara and it was working considering you could hear her compliments and giggles from the hallway

Last night Jace has given you one of his track team shirts from the high school you went together and some cotton shorts, and you joined them in the bar next to the kitchen

“Mornin’ “, you giggled

“Morning”, chanted Sara

“Coffee?”, asked Jace, offering you a cup, “how you like it”

“I knew I chose you as my best friend for a reason”, you chuckled.

“Gods what a party last night uh?”, laughed Jace, “it was even cooler than homecoming”

“That it was”

“I haven’t been to a party that good like… ever”, you said with a smile, and then you felt a bit embarrassed when you remembered that you were dancing so unapologetically that someone grabbed you by the hand and made you dance in the middle of the huge group that had formed and you danced 

“After last night, you earned the nickname the she wolf of old town”, Jace laughed 

“Ahhh, very funny”, you mocked, taking a sip, “but that is a super cool nickname and I will take it”, you laughed 

“Hey the forecast says it will snow today”, said Sara

“Uh, love that”, you said with a wide smile, “hey, do you both like action movies?”, you asked

“I know why you are asking… and NO!”, said Jace, pointing at you with a fork

“Please Jacey!”, you begged childishly, “please, please!”

“What?”, asked Sara

“The new Arthur Dyne Movie”, you said with a smile, “the fourth one!”

“Please don’t make me, I’ve seen it a thousand times!!”

“You can’t possibly get bored! the action sequences? the lights? the music? the scenery? They are a masterpiece!”

“You know what? Cregan likes that sort of thing, ask him”,

“I like what?”, he asked, genuinely interested, looking straight at you, coming from the bedroom

“(Y/N) Wants to see the new Arthur Deyne”

“I love those movies”, he said, taking a cup that Jace offered, he looked at you and smiled softly, “I will take you”, he said

“Great”, you smiled widely

. . .

In the middle of spirit week, you had been swarmed with work from your courses, and dived right into it, and that, and your new and big group of friends, and all the excitement of the competition, and the activities… 

You didn’t even had the time to think about the unmentionable 

Everytime you thought of him, the wound still felt fresh, you felt like someone squeezing your heart inside of your chest 

But that was only when you remembered him

It wasn’t all bad, he was also your friend, and even though he was selfish and an narcissist, you missed having someone by your side, he was your boyfriend, before he went to school he was focused, he cheered you own, to his own agenda, but still, he was someone you could talk to, debate with, someone smart who always had something interesting to share with you

Yes he judged you once when you told him you wanted to watch “how to lose a knight in one moon”, he was a snob, but still.

At one point, you were good together, when you arrived at Dragonstone, you had taken the castle by storm, well, at least, he had, with you helping him a bit

But you had to learn that that happens, people separate, they grow out of each other.

For you, the moment you saw with another woman it was over, you were just sad because when you started dating, and were two sixteen year old horny kids, you had a good time, Aemond was you friend, you trusted him, you felt comfortable with him, he was quiet, mature, and somewhere along the line he became so full of himself 

In highschool he was different, he was sweet and kind. He had changed so much.

Was the baby his?

That was certainly going to put a bump on his career

And his reputation 

You felt your phone ringing, and you jumped, cursing yourself, you didn't even know why you always jumped when your phone rang, you believed that piece of technology to be some sort of portal through which the unmentionable could get to you, but he hadn’t you had blocked everything related to him, but still

When you picked it up, it showed you the strange number calling again, you hang up before you even picked it up  

You tried to go back into sketching what you were seeing for your “representation” class, and then, your phone rang again

And again, it was the same number. You groaned, this time, you picked up 

“Thank you for the enthusiasm, but i’m very happy with my current internet plan, thank you”, you snapped 

“I’m glad to hear it”, you stopped in your tracks, as you recognized that voice immediately, “but that is not why I’m calling”

“Dean Rhaenys”, you whined, “I’m so very sorry”, she chuckled darkly over the phone

“It’s alright, how is Winterfell?”, she asked

“It’s everything I’ve dreamed off, but a bit chilly”, you admitted, you hear her chuckle

“I’m happy for you”, you could tell, you could almost see her smiling, “look, I reached out to you for something, quite important”, you looked around and walked until you could sit in a bench, away from all the passing students, the bench was cold and you shivered, even with a thick jacket, scarf and beanie, the cold clang to your body

“Did something happen?”, you asked, inviting her to continue

“Normally, we, as a school, wouldn’t meddle in student’s relationships”, she said strangely, “but, 

we couldn’t help but notice that you entered our campus in a relationship with Aemond Targaryen”, she continued

“Yes I was”, you told her

“... Is that the reason you left our school so suddenly? you mentioned, in our last interview that you chose this school for love and you didn't have that love anymore”, geez she was smart and quick, nothing escaped her

“It was, we… broke up”, you choked out

Even though you were freezing, you felt your neck sweaty, you looked around with urgency, but the courtyard was mainly empty at this time of day

“Is the reason for your split, the inappropriate relationship he was maintaining with a member of our staff? Professor Alys Rivers?”

Breathe

You could lie, I mean, she wasn’t looking at you

But the thing is, that in the seconds you took in answering, she already knew the answer

“Yes”, you said back, it was of no use lying to her

“Like I said, this faculty does not care about relationships between students, but is much different, when it is brought to our attention that is a professor is in a relationship with student, even though they don’t belong in the same department”

You took a shaky breath

It was out 

“I didn’t do anything”, you whispered, “I saw them with my own eyes and…”

“A picture started circulating”

“What picture?”, you whispered

“The picture consisted in both of them engaging in sexual activities, on school grounds”

No

No, no, no, could it be? no, impossible, you didn’t send it to anyone, nobody hacked you. A certain anxiety started to take a hold on you

What if?

What if it was an accident?

What if that night you drank too much margaritas with Jason and Cersei you actually shared it? like you whined you wanted to do…

What if you were so dumb you sent it to your insta stories just for a mistake??

You started to second guess every time you grabbed your phone

“Oh”, you whined, tears welled in your eyes

“Well, Alys Rivers had been terminated, she does not longer works at this educational establishment”, she said severely, “she threatened to sue, for her state of pregnancy, but we had no choice but to share the picture, she refrained from suing us, if we didn't include this on her record, but she mentioned, that you were the one that took it”

If I fall, I’m taking you with me

That how it goes

You paused

“If I was the one, would I be in trouble?”, you asked, and there was silence on the other line

“No, the source of the picture was untraceable, as the inter phone connection service leaves no trace”, she said calmly, she wasn’t even mad, but she sounded tired, “we just needed corroboration on the story”, she said sincerely

“Please, I know it doesn't sound believable, but I didn’t share it, i swear, I never meant for anyone to get fired, please you have to believe me, I just wanted to leave I never meant for this to happen, this isn’t some sort of revenge”

“Did you show the picture to anyone?”, she asked

Maris… 

“No”, you said simply, you lied, you couldn’t tell her 

“I appreciate your honesty miss”, she said softly, “but we cannot allow this kind of behavior in our school, teachers having relationships with students, even though they share no classes, is unacceptable”, you breathed a sigh of relief

“What is going to happen?”

“We fired Professor Rivers, but sadly, Aemond’s family threatened to sue us”, she said, “so he remains in our school, if we allow him to continue his studies, he won’t pursue a defamation claim, and your name as the author of that picture will remain hidden”

There was another silence

“I know you are not looking at me right now, i know you might not believe me, and I wish I could take a polygraph test, but please, I want you to know, that I did not send that picture to anyone, is the last thing I wanted”

“I believe you Miss (Y/N)”, she whispered, you took a long breath, “because we have other students coming forward, as witnesses of the affair, and they also might have taken pictures”, you sighed another breath of relief

You might not have been the one to blame

“I’m so sorry, for everything”

“This is no way your fault”, she said, “I wish you would have said something sooner, in fact”

“Like I said, I didn’t want anyone to get in trouble”

“So altruistic”, she said, “and kind, that is exactly why I send that letter to the Dean in Winterfell, telling them to accept you”, she said kindly

“You really did that for me?”, you asked

“They normally don’t take students half year, but they made a exception for you”

“Thank you, this school really is what I always dreamed of”, you confessed

“I’m happy I did then”, she said

“I’m sorry for what happened”

“You don’t have to be, things tend to fall for their own weight”, she said, “well, I just called to corroborate the story, thank you for being truthful and insightful”

“You are most welcomed”, you said

“I wish you the very best miss”

“You too”, and just like that he hang up

You took a shaky breath, looking around, you didn’t know what to think, what to believe, you checked your phone, the picture, all your socials and search history, your emails, all of it

There was no trace of you ever sending anything

To anyone

Nobody could… nobody had even got close to your phone

Aemond got bored of doing so, because you never talked to anyone, and it was actually kind of boring

You then looked up, like a bulb had turn on over your head

Holy shit

You ran back to the cafeteria, where you knew your friends were finishing eating their lunch

They all looked at you wide eyed

“What is it?”, asked Jace

“Do any of you know how to hack a phone?”, you asked quickly 

“You are scaring me”, chuckled Jace, you looked at Cregan who was looking back at you 

“I need to know, the history of the things I’ve send through airdrop”, you whispered, “or if a picture have been sent and trough what”

“That is very specific”, muttered Ben, “but I think I can help you out”

“Great”, you grabbed him and took him with you without saying another word

Until you were alone in the library

“You can’t show this picture to anyone”, you muttered, “not one person”

“Alright, you are starting to scare me”, and then you showed him

“This is your boyfriend with the teacher?”, he asked, and you nodded, “Geez”

“This photo got leaked, and I didn’t send it to anyone”, you insisted, “I don’t know what happened”

“Do you actually know this is the picture that got leaked?”

“No… but what are the chances? they said it was a sex picture taken in the school”

“Let’s check”, he whispered, connected your phone in his computer and started typing 

“Hey what’s going on?”, asked Jace, as he came close with Cregan, you smiled nervously

“A picture from my phone got leaked and someone got fired”, you explained, Ben looked at you, “and I didn’t send it”, you explained, “I don’t know what happened”

“In the information from the picture, it says that it was send one time, through airdrop, to “Maris’ phone bitch”, he said, arching an eyebrow

“Fucking Maris?”, you whined, “I almost got sued because of her!”, you whined

“IS THAT “THE” PICTURE?”, asked Jace, you nodded

“What’s in the picture?”, Cregan asked 

“NOTHING!”, said Ben, Jace and you at the same time 

“Delete it”, said Jace, “deny it all, airdrop doesn’t leave a trace, not when you receive it”, you looked at Ben and nodded, and he deleted the picture 

Jace looked at you

“Its over”

It was certainly not over yet…

. . .

One of the competitions of spirit week was “dressing” your faculty, or at least only the hall, in a certain way, with a certain theme

Your building was the newest one, it was in a major part concrete, glass and metal railings, so you and your classmates had said that you would place plants, wallflowers, and dressed the main hall with greenery and flowers, plants in pots, making it look like “nature” took over

It was going on beautifully, so much so, you as the whole class were going to ask the directors of the faculty of Architecture, design and arts to leave it like that once it was over

You had proposed the idea, so you were most looking forwards to the competition

You were standing over a chair, trying to place one of the bindweeds over the wall, in the tip of your toes, playing with your own stability, but you were so close

“That should go up”, you heard behind you, and when you did… you froze

That voice

You lost your balance, frightened out of your mind, and you fell off the chair

you managed to use your hands to tray to stop to smash your head on the concrete of the floor, but your ankle falled in a bad position, trying to catch you, and you ended on on your side on the floor, in a huff of pain 

“Are you alright!?”, your classmate that was with you hanging the bindweed ran to your side, jumping off the chair graceful as a gazelle, and checked your ankle

But you only looked up, scared

There she was

Looking down her nose at you

Those haunting green eyes 

“Alys”, you called, scared

“Does your ankle hurt?”, asked the sweet girl you looked at her apologetically

“A bit”

“Oh, that was a pretty nasty fall… I hope is not broken”

“Professor Alys”, called the secretary of the Arts department, “the director of the school of arts will see you now”, she said with smile, completely ignoring you, and Alys gave you one last nasty look before walking away from you

No no no no no

No please

“She is for the post of a new arts professor for the Art academy”, whispered the girl you were with, you looked at her in horror, “she looks kind of witchy doesn’t she?”, she asked innocently 

She help you stand up, and you whined in pain 

. . .

A sprained ankle

FUCK!

Sara gave you a pack of ice and you smiled softly at her as you placed it in your ankle, you called her and she came to the infirmary with you, and then she decided, as Jace offered her, to bring you to the boys apartment.

Outside was snowing, it was awfully chilly

“Do the girls live here now?”, mocked Ben as he entered the place with Cregan, the later one greeted you -who were pitifully seated in their sofa- and then kept going to his room, probably going to change after practice

He and Ben where in the football team

Jace was in trials, the season was about to start. You were looking forward to that.

But then you remembered…

You sniffed, remembering Alys… fucking Alys

Was going to teach in your faculty

Right next door

If you were truly unlucky you could ran into her every day

Every fucking day

Tears fell down your eyes, you wiped them instantly, but it was too late

“Does it hurt so much?”, asked Sara, truly concerned, you shook your head

“What’s going on?”, asked Jace

“I saw her today, Alys”, you whined

“Who is Alys?”, asked Sara

“My professor of plastic arts in Dragonstone”, you told her, “she slept with my boyfriend, he cheated on me with her and knocked her up”

Sara opened her mouth widely, surprised 

“What?”

“It was horrible, but… my roommate stole a picture I took of them with my phone and she got fired”, you whined, “its my fault, and now, she is applying to the post here, at this school…”

“What the fuck?”, asked Jace

“She knows I took it, she hates me!”, you said, “she is going to make my life miserable”

“The witch from the picture?”, asked Ben

“The Dean told me they couldn’t put that on her record”, you said, “nobody knows about it”

“And she will join the department”, said Ben

“I never meant to get her fired, but I can’t see her here everyday!”, you whined, “she can make my life miserable, but I can’t do anything… she will know it, I could get in trouble… and… its my fault she got fired, I didn't mean to”

“It's her fault! you didn’t make her bang your boyfriend!”, said Sara

“I left the school, I didn’t tell a soul, I mean, only one person… I don’t know what to do”, you whined

"She is in arts, you are in design, she won't touch you", said Sara, "we will be your buffers..."

"Yeah, lets learn her schedule and avoid her, its called antistalking", said Jace

Unknown to you, Cregan was listening. But he came back to his room, grabbed his phone and dialed a number 

“Uncle Bennard”, he greeted, “I’m good thanks… Do you have a meeting with the board of the school today?”, he asked, “Alys Rivers can’t teach in this school”, he nodded, “she does not share the morals and profile of this university… yes… I’m certain of my words… thank you”

And he hanged up the call 

He got out of his room and you all looked at him, you wiped your tears and smiled at him, sincerely, not knowing of what just happened

“Anyone in for a marathon of the Arthur Dayne movies?”, he asked, “let’s order pizza”

“YES!”

“WUHUUU”

"I'm already on it!", offered Ben

“For fucks sake”, whined Jace

more notes : I’m running out of creating counterparts of movies and such… real ones might pop up

😂

“Sea Snake” = Titanic

Maegor with Cyrese and Tyanna = John F Kennedy, Jackie and Marilyn 

How to lose a knight in a moon = “How to lose a man in ten days” 

The she-wolf of old town = The wolf of wall street

THE ARTHUR DAYNE! hahaaa = John Wick

taglist! ❤️

@mxtokko @princesssterek @thefandomimagines @iamavailablesstuff @misspascalpunk @sweethoneyblossom1 @ipostwhtifeel @lunamoonbby @ahristata @watercolorskyy @yazzzmints @n4tforlife @littleshadow17 @alexa4040 @speedyballoonpainter @hc-geralt-23 @rayrayredpanda @eralen @yentroucnagol

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny x reader with a huge family

Fem or gn pls

Thank you for the prompt, anon!! This is a short n sweet little thing, with a slight side of angst since I realized Johnny's home life was probably shit halfway through writing it lol. Hope you enjoy!

Content: gn!reader, fluff, slight angst about Johnny's distance with his parents (and dad)

“Wow. It’s so quiet,” Johnny joked. The two of you had found some solace on the porch outside, for once in the whole evening being mostly alone. You could still hear your little cousins playing in the front yard and some of your older relatives laughing as they smoked in the driveway, but here you felt like you had room to breathe.

“I know,” you laughed a little. “Sorry. I know it’s…a lot.” 

“Oh, please,” Johnny rolled his eyes. “This is nothing. At least no one here is constantly asking for a picture or for me to join in on some kinda celebrity-marketing-business-thingy.”

A shrill giggle came from the yard, and it was unmistakable. “Except for–”

“Yes,” he nodded rather seriously. “Except for Lizzy. I would trust her business plans with a blindfold on and my hands tied behind my back.”

You had gotten mixed reactions from everyone in your family when they saw who your partner was. Your parents and siblings had known for a little while, though you tried to keep it on the down-low that you were dating one of the richest and most famous men in Hollywood. But the reunion was something you went to every year and truly enjoyed. Your family was enormous and stressful, but you loved them and enjoyed being with them. It had been over a year since you’d gotten with Johnny, and you felt that now was the time to introduce everyone to him. Your grandparents and older relatives, for the most part, were lost on who Johnny was. Your parents were both impressed and protective of you. Your siblings were either jealous or flat-out didn’t believe you until they saw his Agera pull up in the driveway. 

Your cousins who were old enough to recognize Johnny were equally starstruck, but one in particular, the barely-teenaged Lizzy, had hardly left you two alone from the moment you arrived at your parents’ house. Between excited gasps and nervous giggles and lots of hair-twirling, she’d spent the evening desperately trying to rope Johnny into starring in her various movie ideas. Johnny played along stoically, even removing his sunglasses to listen and nod as she detailed plots about superhero dogs and haunted pillows and a hamster who was running for president. By the end of the night, you wouldn’t be surprised if she’d managed to snag his number so they could continue discussing his potential roles and payment later in the coming weeks.

“Can you blame her?” you asked with a chuckle. “Imagine if when you were little your cousin was dating, like, Harrison Ford, or something.”

“Hey, I’m not blaming anyone! That kid’s going places. She’s just trying to invest early.” Johnny turned and you his profile caught in the golden glow of a summer sunset. It struck you, not for the first time in the past few minutes, how pretty he was. You especially loved the sparkle in his eyes and the curve of his nose in this light. 

“She’s a smart one,” you agreed, half-paying attention.

Johnny took a long sip of his drink as he leaned on the railing of your porch, humming softly to himself. You took a moment to scan the surrounding area of your childhood home. It felt strange to be back here with him. It was like two worlds colliding, and while it wasn’t unpleasant to share your family and homelife with him, it felt odd. Almost like a dream state.

“So, are you liking all this? I know it’s not exactly what you’re used to…”

“Like it?” He seemed surprised. “Oh, man. I love it.”

“Really?” You couldn’t help a childishly excited tone from entering your voice. He smiled at this, his dimples creasing as he did so.

“Sure! It’s, uh…rustic.” His brow furrowed for a second. “Well, no. That’s not the right word. It’s…” 

Your face fell a little as he sighed. His own smile was fading.

“I didn’t really…have this growing up. Y’know? My dad, he was never big on his own family. So I never really saw my grandparents, or my aunts or uncles or anything. My mom didn’t have a big connection with hers either. I don’t think my dad helped that. So a lot of the time it was just us three. And…God. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to bring the mood down. I’m just tryin’ to say that this is all really, really nice.”

“Oh,” you said softly. “Well, y’know, everyone here…they’re all your family too, now. You know that, right?”

“I guess that’s true.” He brightened. “Yeah. Family.”

“You’re one of us now.” You grinned and leaned against him. “And even if you are some big-shot A-list movie star, they’ll love you as long as I do.”

“Sooo, like, another three months?” he teased, calculating on his fingers. You giggled.

“Count your days, Cage.” You watched as a group of kids chased each other around the yard and neared the porch, clamoring about rules and squealing with laughs. Among them, Lizzy played, stopping only for a moment to gaze at both of you (Johnny more-so). “Although, if the way things have been going tonight are indicative of anything, you might have a rebound date in your future…”

“Oh, she can find a better Prince Charming, I’m sure,” Johnny chuckled. He waved to her, and Lizzy looked like she might just implode. Her big eyes grew bigger and bigger and she remained still as a statue until her little sister bumped into her, and then, after only one more glance over her shoulder, she was right back in the game.

“Ooh, Prince Charming.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I like that.”

“Well, it fits. I treat you like royalty for a reason.” He pulled your face into his hand and kissed you fully, trailing his thumb along your jaw. When you pulled away, you had a permanent smile painted on your lips.

“Pretty,” he murmured. He had a similar look on his face.

“Look in a mirror,” you shot back kindly. 

“A magic mirror?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. 

“C’mon. I think dinner’s almost ready.” Tugging his hand, you started towards the door inside.

“Ooh, I can’t wait to try your mom’s food. That kitchen smelled so damn good earlier…”

“You’re gonna love it.” You gave him a backwards glance. “Seriously, if that doesn’t lure you into this family, then nothing will.”

[cigvrettedvet]

adele & winifred.

      wiping her own tears away in spite before adele could help her more, the woman couldn’t keep herself from pouting, lip jutting out childishly amidst their near blissful reunion. “i don’t intend to, you know how much i loathe crying, but when i hear of you with others knowing you’re simply just out of my grasp … it’s like a thousand stabs to my heart, finished off with a cruel twist of a dagger, leaving behind a feeling that never fades. i simply just want you, del, and the fact that others can blatantly have you in front of me is torturous.” her dramatics were on par with winifred’s typical behaviour, though she knew saying other’s could have adele was out of line. the girl chose to cautiously overlook the need for a correction. instead, she clung to adele’s hand like it was her only lifeline. “not any adventures in particular, just tending to my garden. people often don’t believe that there’s much to take care of during the colder seasons, but she’s still alive and thriving, even if hidden or less vibrant. and they also tend not to pay too much attention to those who seem occupied,” she smirked ever so slightly, “so i overhear many things people wish not to be shared. like the fact that olivia is being courted by harold, but has been seeing anthony behind his back for the past few months. or that mr. irving is on his death bed and has left everything to the family dog.” it helped winifred to gossip, kept her distracted from the heartache at hand. “i’ve also discovered there’s this lecture going on at the college and i’m dying to get in somehow. my brother has been absolutely no help whatsoever on that front, though. despite the fact that i can fit in his clothes and would be able to blend in well at the back.”

                “oh, fred,” adele frowned, reaching over to caress the raven haired girl’s cheek, “i want you too. every day that i’m not with you is the worst kind of torture imaginable. if i could have things my way, we’d never be apart. we’d always be together and we’d never have to feel things like longing and sorrow and agony ever again.” adele feared that not only would her parents try and marry her off, but that winifred would grow tired of waiting on her and found someone else. adele didn’t fear a lot but that was one of her biggest fears. she even had a nightmare about it, something she kept entirely to herself. as winifred held onto her hand, adele began to run her fingers through her lover’s hair. a means to comfort the other but also herself. “i have to go and see her for myself. i always did love your garden.” she could spend an entire day there if allowed, just her and winifred. adele can hardly help the laugh that bubbles past her lips when winifred fills her in on the gossip she had missed out on. “i knew there was something going on between olivia and anthony! i saw them giving each a look . . . kind of the same look we give each other.” a romantic at heart, adele was an avid supporter of even the forbidden ones. she, out of all people, knew what it was like to fall for someone you shouldn’t have. “that’s going to be one lucky dog then. better the dog than his arrogant children, they don’t deserve a dime,” adele replied, glancing back down at winifred after. she knew her fred like the back of he rhand, knowing that she was still troubled despite her mischeivous tone. adele too was troubled, but it was much better to live in the moment than wallow in the misery. her moments with winifred grew fewer and fewer and adele didn’t want a single one to go to waste. “a lecture, you say?” adele’s eyes sparkle as a plan forms in her mind to embark on their newest adventure, “why don’t we go together? i can find disguises for us so we can get in the lecture. we can be sophisticated young men for a day, wouldn’t that be exciting?” adele offered, trying her best to sound like a man but quickly failed. she’d have to work on that if they were to get in the lecture.

[kwonhoshi0]

𝟒𝟎 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬 | valentines event

navigation | requests : open | 14th feb 2021

“It’s Valentine’s Day and your boyfriend seems to be a bit nervous, will he be sharing his first time with you? or maybe trying out some new kinks and toys? Why don’t you come join us and find out!”

pairing : denki x fem!reader

genre : smut, fluff

word count : 2.2k+

warnings : 17+, smut with a plot

themes : read -> ,praise!kink, thigh riding, use of electricity, established relationship, almost being caught, nipple play, daddy!kink overstimulation, cum play, first experience, aged up (third years), spit play?, soft dom!denki, biting

thank you so much for letting me participate in this event loves! corruption masterlist

event : @ultimate-astridwriting

it’s valentines day, unlike last year or the year before you were actually excited for today, now that you have a loving boyfriend you have something to look forward to.

you woke up besides your boyfriend in his dorm room, his head layed comfortably on your chest and his arms around your waist you giggled at how cute he looks, his hair hung over his eyes as his lips were stuck in a pout, you carefully moved his hair out of his face. ‘morning denks’ you smiled at him as he hummed in his morning voice ‘morning sunshine’ he shifted from your chest moving up and nuzzled his nose into your neck nipping and kissing at the skin making you giggle, ‘what time is ittt’ he drawled his breath hot against your neck, you grabbed your phone from the bedside table pressing the power button, ‘it’s 8:30’ you mumbled into his hair placing your phone back down, ‘imm sleepy’ giggling at his antics you pinned his arms down so you’re now on top of him and kissed his forehead before peeling away from him running into the bathroom.

you grabbed some shorts since you only slept in your underwear and one of denki’s shirts last night, slipping them on you carefully squeezed some toothpaste on your toothbrush and wet it a little under the faucet before brushing your teeth, after a couple minutes you spit the aftermath into the sink the tingly taste lingered in your mouth. where is it you thought before noticing the cleanser bottle, after a couple minutes you finished your morning routine and fixed your hair up.

slipping back into your boyfriends room you opened the curtains about to pull him out of bed you noticed he’d already gotten up, so you hopped downstairs and fixed up some coffee, ‘happy valentine’s day my baby’ denki slipped behind you his hands resting on your waist as he smothered you in kisses, you laughed as you hugged him sighing into him as comfort washed over you ‘happy valentine’s day denks’.

‘you’re both fucking disgusting’ bakugou groaned as he eyed you both from the table, you snickered as denki walked behind bakugou and ruffled his hair, ‘GET OFF ME DUNCE FACE’ he yelled making you both double over in laughter, during their bickering momo slid over to you leaning against the counter, ‘i’m going to do it’ you gaped at the girl ‘really!? you’re finally going to tell her you like her?’ you smiled jumping a little ‘shush! yes i’ll do it, but i need help’ you nod like a child at her words. ‘what do you need help with?’ you smiled sipping your coffee, ‘since we’re all going to go to the movies i need to get her alone to ask her, i have a little idea, maybe you could ask if we could go on a double date and we tell the others but you and denki go back to the dorms or something so we’re alone !, i know that if i just ask her to talk alone everyone’s going to question us’ you listened carefully smiling every couple seconds, ‘of course! momo i’m so so proud of you’ you hugged her, she returned the hug resting her chin on your shoulder ‘thank you y/n this means so much’ before you could say anything back denki came back to pester you ‘heyy hands off, she’s mine’ he said childishly making grabby hands at you, you grinned at him rolling your eyes.

after breakfast you hopped up the stairs to your room opening your closet door, what do i wear you thought brushing your hands across the line of clothes. in the end you decided on a black miniskirt and a dark green oversized jumper paired with some jewellery and boots, you did your makeup before hearing a knock on your door, opening it you smiled. ‘woah baby, you look amazing as always’ he admired, his hand traced your face until his finger reached your lips you bit him playfully as his face inched closer to yours ‘suck’, you suppressed a whimper and did as he said, your lips wrapped around his finger and he watched intently before pulling his hand away and catching your lips with his own, his lips moved in sync with yours, eagerly nipping at your bottom lip making you groan into his mouth, in that moment he slipped his tongue into your mouth moving against your own slowly, ‘Y/N DENKI ARE YOU READY TO GO?’ mina yelled from downstairs, sighing you both pulled away, you giggled at his flushed state ‘we’ll finish this later babe’ he whispered entwining his hand with your own.

you guys took UA’s minibus to the movies, even though it wasn’t far you all wanted to scream songs as long as you can, so after lots of yelling and singing you arrived at the cinema, you sat inbetween denki and mina, you love the aesthetic of the cinema, the dimmed lights leaving only a screen to brighten the room, you leaned over to your boyfriend nudging your nose against his cheek ‘hi baby’ he laughed at your motions taking your hand with his own kissing the back of it before moving his hand to your cheek giving you a gentle kiss, you didn’t realise your friends all watching you ‘alright we get it you’re in love’ mina pouted before slumping into your shoulder ‘i want someone to be disgustingly in love with’ the pout not leaving her lips. you moved so your head was on top of hers ‘you’ll find love bub’ to which she just sighed ‘denki can you please give me your girlfriend, i think i’m in love’ you all laughed as denki took the arm closest to him and trapped it between his own arms ‘too bad she’s mine’.

after a lot of popcorn and fizzy drinks it was time for your plan with momo, ‘hi ! jirou.. would you like to come on a double date with kaminari and y/n’ momo blurted out a little red, ‘oh.. i’d love to’ she said as warmth took over her face. ‘im so proud of you !!’ you half yelled hugging momo, ‘i was so scared she’d say no’ she sighed in your arms smiling. in the distance denki’s eyes flickered to you, a comfortable smile on his face as he watched you, the girl he’d do anything for, his eyes twinkled ‘i’m so lucky to have her’ he said quietly, ‘i remember when you had the biggest crush on her and you couldn’t even talk to her’ kirishima laughed admiring the love you share.

-‘oh- uh hi y/n’ the blonde boy stuttered out, ‘hey denks are you okay?’ you smiled at your crush, it was 8pm you and all your friends were at a beach, and since you’re in your first year you weren’t really allowed to be outside this late but no one had to know that, the sky in front of you was setting in hues of blue and pink, rippling like a puddle with the essence of magic. ‘i’m okay but you look cold’ he avoided your gaze looking at the goosebumps on your skin, you both sat around the campfire with your friends, mina and kirishima played cards as bakugou yelled at midoriya, momo and jirou talking about the ocean, sero and tsu comparing their quirks, the waves crashing on the beach. ‘i’m a little cold but i’m okay’ you smiled shifting closer to him, his breath hitched a little, instead of asking he just took a jumper from his bag and motioned you to lift your arms up which you rolled your eyes and did as he giggled, ‘thank you denki’ your eyes look like gems he thought. ‘denki?’ you were pouting he smiled at your expression leaning towards you a little ‘mm’ you giggled at him taking his hand from his lap onto yours, he looked up at you with bug eyes ‘can i-um’ he started he lost his words staring at you , you looked away smiling at his shy side and shifted closer to him your knees now touching. to see his reaction you placed your chin on his shoulder making him stare at you harder with the same bug eyes, you lifted your head a little now feeling his breath on your lips, nudging his nose with your own you kissed him, gently moving your arms around his neck and he relaxed into it placing his arms around your waist pulling you closer to him, he hummed into the kiss which made you smile, feeling you smile into the kiss you both pulled away. ‘dont laugh at me’ he pouted as your friends stopped and closed their mouths which were open in shock and yelled things along the lines of ‘FINALLY’ and ‘DENKI YOU DIDNT ELECTROCUTE HER’.-

that was yours and denki’s favourite day and here you are still going strong 2 and a half years later, you both only lost your virginity earlier this year but you trusted eachother and couldn’t imagine losing it to anyone else.

‘hey denks it’s time to go back to the dorms’ you smiled tugging on his hand, ‘jirou said yes!?’ he asked as his eyes lit up with joy for his friend ‘of course she did dummy come onn’. for the next hour you were meant to be watching a mini movie but for the plan momo had come up with you were meant to be back at the dorms and jirou and momo at the ‘double date’ in the restaurant next to the cinema.

10 minutes later you arrived at the dorms and threw your bag on his gaming chair before slumping down onto your boyfriends bed sighing. he laughed moving your bag to the end of the bed and sitting into the chair, ‘baby come here’ you glanced over at him motioning to his lap ‘mmm tired’ you pout as you shuffled over and climbed into his lap, he shifted forward slightly to allow your legs to sit behind his back. ‘how long do we have until the others get back?’ he said into your neck, glancing at the time you replied ‘uhh around 40 minutes’ you felt him smirk into your neck before biting down making you suppress a whimper ‘perfect’.

‘denks what are you-’ before you could finish your sentence he reached under your jumper and cupped your breast, squeezing it slightly. you sighed as your head fell back grinding down into him, ‘feel so fucking good’ he groaned catching your lips with his own, your mouth a mess of tongue and saliva together, you both pulled away a string of your spit between you, as he pulled your jumper off he thrusted his hips up making you moan out and whine at the lack of friction, wetness pooled beneath your legs, he parted his legs a little and picked you up placing you on his thigh, ‘wanna try something new sunshine’ he whispered darkly in you ear, you nod at him making him move towards your ear biting at it ‘use your words’. whimpering you said

‘yes denki p-please’

he smirked at your words pushing your hips down into his thigh your wet panties rubbing against him, groaning he gripped your thighs ‘so fucking wet, i wanna see you get yourself off on my thigh’ he whispered his breath tickling your neck, embarrassed you started moving your hips groaning as your back arched slightly allowing space for denki to move his mouth down from your neck to your bra, he slid the straps down and sighed in pleasure at your hardened nipples taking one into his mouth and kneading the other with his fingers, his other hand pushed down on your hip as you worked against his thigh, he moaned loudly from your thighs rubbing against his cock, you felt a familiar knot in your stomach ‘d-enki i need more’ you whimpered, he moved his hand from your hip down to your clit as he moved up to your collarbone sucking dark patches across your body chuckling he sighed ‘you want my sparks again baby?’ you shuddered and moaned at his words, he rubbed messy circled on your clit a few sparks of yellow emitted below you both as you got faster on his thigh, you were shaking from the sparks but it felt so good ‘good girl, you look so fucking hot like this, your cum all over my thighs’ he groaned as his eyes rolled back a little, the knot in your stomach began to grow his fingers still working at your clit, you brought a hand down to his cock swiping over the head with your fingers the precum coating the tip, he shuddered at your touch moving his lips back to your tits, he could feel you close to your high, ‘let go baby, cum all over my legs’ you brought his hand over your mouth as you moaned out releasing over him, he did the same hearing your moan.

breaths heavy he lifted your hand up from his dick back to your lips ‘open up’ you did as he told, he shoved his fingers in your mouth and watched as you sucked them clean groaning at the sight.

‘6 minutes till they get back’ he smiled ‘do you think we have time for-’ you read his mind ‘mm no harm in trying’, he grinned lifted you up, you wrapped your legs around his waist as you fell onto the bed giggling, ‘couldn’t have put it better myself sunshine.’

[cow-smells]

You’re Mine [Eli Hawk Moskowitz x Reader]

Requests: 1. there’s a new girl on miyagi-do, she’s classmates with sam, hawk, miguel, tory, robby, demetri, etc... for some reason, she and hawk didn’t like each other (he can be on cobra kai or eagle fangs, that’s your choice), and one day they make a bet, which this girl wins. hawk has to be her slave for a whole week. BONUS IDEA: a stolen kiss during a fight. maybe admitting feelings for each other? i’d love that! ( @berriewrites​ ) 2. love the hawk smut but i’d also love some fluffy hawk about him secretly liking the reader who’s in miyagido but he tries to act all tough and hide it (anon) 3. AHHH CAN WE GET SOME HAWK FLUFF!? I love the idea where you swear that you don’t like him and you guys make eye contact from a distance when he’s standing with his friend group and you’re standing with yours and you get flustered and he can tell and he smirks and just ahh (anon)

A/N: this took so longggg this came out longer than expected (and honestly i could go on, but i wanted to get this out already) + real life has come hitting all at once and its been overwhelming lol. thanks for being patient and sticking around <3 i enjoyed writing some fluff (amidst a flurry of smut reuests loool :)

Words: 2981

Warnings: none

Read this on AO3

Summary: You don't like Hawk. He's a bad person, that much you know for sure. You're ready to make his life miserable when he loses a bet with you, but then you actually have to spend time with him...

   You didn't like this.

Forgiveness seemed to be a virtue that evaded you. Eagle-fang and Miagi-Do were uniting and everyone seemed to be all for the union – except for you.

Some things were simply unforgivable. For you, Hawk breaking Demetri's arm was one of them.

You and Demetri became nearly inseparable friends when you both joined Miagi-Do. He had told you all about his former friend Eli and how he'd abandoned him in the favor of bullying him in any way he could come up with; that bullying taking a turn to the extreme when Hawk took to breaking bones.

    Demetri had since forgiven him, but you hadn't.

Demetri had a softer heart than he let on, and he missed Eli terribly, so when the latter suggested they work together he gladly accepted.

But you were more objective about the situation, as you weren't a part of it, and forgiving such cruelty was beyond you.

    The one good thing about the dojos coming together was the intense dedication that grew on everyone. Now that you had a common enemy, many participants would hang around in Miyagi-Do's dojo long after training sessions, training until you could hardly move your limbs.

     The sun had ago long fallen when you and the remaining students took places around a mat, ready for the sparring session to begin.

With Daniel and Sensei Lawrence gone, you had taken to writing down names and pulling them out of a bowl to decide on sparring partners.

    All the negative emotions you felt channeled in to great excitement when Miguel called your name – followed by Hawk's.

You could have sworn you saw a look of something you couldn't read – concern, perhaps, or fear? Before he seemed to share your excitement as he stepped on to the mat with a grin that was almost predatory.

    Two could play at that game.

    “You're as good as dead,” you said, your voice dripping venom. Hawk's smirk just grew.

    “Is that so, princess? I'd like to see you score as much as a point.”

A light bulb lit in your mind.

    “Yeah?” you taunted. “What if I get three?”

Hawk laughed. “You got a lot of confidence, don't you? I'll tell you what. If you can score three points on me and win, I'll...” He bit his lip as he thought. “I'll let you boss me around for a week. Whatever you want.”

The blood rushed through your veins, ready more than ever to fight. You were grateful for the lack of your sensei, knowing this nonsense wouldn't stand if he were here.

    “Deal.”

    “Are you guys done?” Miguel huffed, standing between you two, ready to referee. “Good. Bow.”

    You bowed without intent and got straight to attacking. Hawk didn't expect it; he came from the dojo that prides itself on strike first and yours cared mainly about defense. You earned your first point within seconds.

    That only served to throw Hawk off his game further. He dived in right away for the attack and was caught unprepared when you fell, sweeping his leg.

    You earned your second point.

By that point, Hawk might as well have been fuming out the ears. His brows furrowed in anger as he looked at you like you were the most vile thing he had ever seen; that satisfied something within you.

    The flurry of hits and misses was so rapid you were caught unprepared when you managed to land a punch on Hawk, Miguel's voice rising as he named you victor.

    Hawk huffed, clearly exerted. You smiled. “You're mine.”

You were fully intending to use this bet to its full potential.

The next day was Saturday, and Hawk, true to his word, showed up at your doorstep at 9 p.m sharp, just as you had ordered.

You paid him no kindness when you opened the door, not exchanging a word with him before demanding: “Helmet?”

Hawk handed you a helmet, not looking particularly pleased about the situation but not being able to stop himself from taking in an eyeful of you anyway.

You needed a ride to tonight's party – that's where Hawk came in, beginning his work for you as a personal valet. Accordingly for the event, you were dressed meticulously, showing off your best features – and if you were to judge by Hawks reaction, you were on your way to turn heads.

You climbed on the motorcycle after him, circling your arms around him loosely; but when he kicked off and started the ride, you couldn't help but tighten your hold.

    The party was overcrowded with people from the moment you got there; Yasmine's parties tended to get a bit... excessive.

You ditched Hawk the moment you got sight of your friends, ditching the helmet on his bike to run over to Sam, Moon and Yasmine.

Yasmine didn't hide the dirty look she sent at Hawk. “Ew. Who's the freak?”

You grinned proudly. “My valet. Ignore him. Actually...”

You looked over to the drinks table; someone had tapped a keg and it was being swarmed with people.

    “Hey, Hawk!”

Hawk turned to you, the slightest furrow in his brow as he had already joined his own friends. You pointed at the drinks table. “Vodka soda!” you ordered.

He rolled his eyes, but did it anyway. Your friends watched wide-eyed as he obeyed you wordlessly, bringing over the drink. “Anything else, princess?”

    “Yes,” you gave him a judging once-over. “Don't drink tonight. I want to get home in one piece.”

He bit his cheeks and glared at you before growling “Fine” and returning to his friends.

At some point you didn't even want a drink any more, it was just fun ordering Hawk to go fetch you another one; and so, you found yourself unintentionally drunk, laughing mindlessly at anything said and swaying on your feet.

You didn't even know how late it had gotten when Hawk came in the living room looking for you, ready to go home as most the others already had.

You had earlier made him promise to take you home as well, and – something you were quickly learning was, Hawk was definitely a man of his word. He spotted you half-sprawled on the couch, laughing with Yasmine at something you didn't fully register. Your cup was askew in your hand, contents about to spill over when Hawk grabbed it out of your hand, placing it on a table nearby.

    “Come on, Y/n. It's time to go.”

    “Not yet!” you grinned gleefully, taking hold of his wrist and shaking it dumbly as you spoke. “Later! We're having fun!”

Hawk placed his free hand on yours that held him. “It's four AM, Y/n, time to call it a night.”

    You didn't reply, instead resorting to pouting like a child.

His eyes softened (the puppy eyes never failed to work) – but his jaw clenched. “If you don't come now I'm leaving you here.”

    “Fine!” you hurriedly rose to your feet, using Hawk for balance. “Bye,” you pouted at Yasmine childishly as Hawk pulled you away from her and out of the house.

The sudden quiet of the outside was nearly overwhelming, Hawk's voice sounding too loud for you. “How am I supposed to get you home when you're this drunk?”

    “I'm not drunk,” you answered instinctively, knowing that you very well were.

    “If you can make it to the bike in a straight line, I'll believe you.” You look at his bike, ten feet ahead. You decide to keep holding on to him. “That's what I thought. Listen. You gotta stay awake, okay? I can't have you falling off in the middle of the road, or making me sway, because then we're both dead. Got it?”

    “Dead. Got it.”

Hawk didn't look convinced, but placed a helmet on you and buckled it anyway.

It was about ten minutes in to the ride when Hawk pulled over. He turned to you, his voice as serious as he could make it; you simply smiled, somewhat dazed. “This isn't going to work.”

    “Hm?”

    “Y/n!” Hawk called, trying to wake you up a little. “Don't fall asleep!”

    “Yes, sensei.” you slurred. Had you been any more awake, you might have noticed the way Hawk's eyes widened at that.

Hawk had to refocus himself to go on. “I'm serious. Look... My house is closer than yours. You can sleep it off at mine, and I'll take you wherever tomorrow. Okay?”

    “Okay,” you shrugged, your mind not caring about much other than regaining the warmth of Hawk's body pressed against yours.

Minutes later you pulled up at an unfamiliar house. Hawk unbuckled your helmet and set it aside, helping you off the bike and guiding you inside, motioning Shhh as he led you through the corridor of his darkened house until you reached his room.

The most natural thing for you to do the moment you saw a bed was to collapse on it. In the seconds Hawk turned his back on you to find you Pj's to wear, you had fallen asleep.

    Looking at you on his bed, Hawk exhaled heavily. He was very aware of your hatred of him; what he couldn't understand was, if everyone else forgave him, why not you?

It certainly didn't help that you looked the way you do, that you were talented, and that everyone loved you.

So Hawk undid your shoes and pulled them off, laying a blanket on you before leaving you to sleep.

    You woke up groggy, somewhat hungover and in a strangers room; an interesting start to the day.

You didn't really want to leave the comfort of your lonesome in the room but it was clear you would have to face the music at some point, so you womaned up and left the room.

Following the smell of food cooking, you walk down a hallway to find a red-haired man in the kitchen, his tattooed back to you, muscles flexing as he flipped a pancake.

With his hair down, it took you a moment to register who you're seeing; who's bed you spent the night in.

    Hawk.

Your first instinct was to groan, to cower in to yourself in regret; but then you remember how tenderly he treated you the night prior, making sure you got safely to a bed, letting you have his bed.

You swallowed your pride and stepped in to the kitchen. “Morning.”

Hawk's shoulders jumped in fright as you startled him; you couldn't help but giggle. He quickly rightened himself, straightening his back and flexing his abs as he turned to you.

    He was good looking and he knew it. You hated him.

However, you felt your power returning to you as he couldn't help but look you up and down, your disheveled clothes revealing a bit more than they had the night before. Hawk inhaled sharply, reminding himself of who he was, how he was supposed to act: unfazed.

    “Bout time you got up.”

You frowned, looking at the kitchen clock. “What do you mean about time? It isn't even noon yet.”

    “Yeah, well,” Hawk flipped a pancake on to a nearby plate. “You wanted me to take you to the mall today, right? I have practice later, so it's gotta be now.” The Eagle-fangs were holding weekend practices of their own, something you weren't a fan of.

    “Jeez, fine,” you sneered, allowing yourself to sit at the kitchen table. Amidst the chaos that was waking up in Hawks bed, you had totally forgot you previously asked him to take you out today. Yasmine's parents were making her take tutoring lessons, Moon was doing some spiritual healing thing and Sam was with Miguel, so you were left all alone – but you certainly didn't intend on spending Sunday at home, doing nothing.

    Hawk finally shut off the burner and joined you at the table with a stack of pancakes and two plates in tow. “Eat away your hangover. I'm not gonna hold your hair up if you hurl.”

Breakfast with Hawk ended up being a surprisingly civil affair; so was shopping. There was something exciting about dragging him along after you, shop after shop, having him carry your bags and modeling clothes for him. And honestly, you were loving the effect you had on him. You knew he was trying to hide it, but you could see the way he grew antsy when you tried on bikinis. You loved teasing him, knowing he couldn't have you.

    What also didn't hurt was the way you two turned heads walking down streets together. You were undeniably gorgeous, and he... While at first you thought it was the bright red mohawk that grabbed peoples eyes, after a close inspection you couldn't deny he had fair features, too. You had to look away whenever he tensed his jaw, accentuating his jawline, or if God forbid he smiled, you had to deny the way his smile made your stomach knot up.

    As though to top off the experience of him, by the time you finished shopping, Hawk would have been late if he was to take you home, so you suggested he take you to practice with him and just take you home once he was finished. And oh my... You did not need to see him fighting. Having a whole hour to see his biceps flexing as the threw punches was doing you no favors; when you were both practicing you were too busy with yourself to notice him, but right then you had a whole hour to do nothing but stare.

At the end of the practice you rose when Hawk approached you, ready to go. When his sensei understood you were waiting there for him, he asked Hawk, “Yours?”

Hawk didn't answer; he merely smirked that Hawk smirk of his. His sensei nodded proudly. “Nice.” Creep.

You had a couple more days to squeeze the most you could out of your bet, and by all means were you planning on using them.

Hawk was taking you to school and home every day on the back of his bike – to Miyagi-do, too. It became a regular thing to see you two together, and if anyone was expecting you, they expected Hawk, too.

Just as the previous mornings, you and Hawk walked in to school together. Seeing your friends, you bid him goodbye and went to join them, your eyes lingering on him a bit too long as he said hello to Miguel.

Yasmine's jaw dropped as she looked at you, her expression scandalized. “What?” you asked.

    “You're totally in to the freak!”

    “What? No,” you denied – but even as the words left your mouth, you could hear your lack of conviction. “No.”

You looked back to where Hawk and Miguel stood; this time, he caught your eye. Then, with total audacity, he winked at you.

You felt heat rush through your body.

The smirk that grew on him suggested he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

    You hated it.

Deciding to put an end to this madness, you wordlessly leave your friends and march up to Hawk, a new rage running though you.

He stopped talking with Miguel when you reached him; Miguel visibly tensed at what he felt was a dangerous situation for him to be in.

    “Sidebar,” you ordered. Hawk smirked.

    “After you, princess.”

You hoped no one would notice when you lured him in to an empty classroom, but in all honesty, it was you and Hawk. There were always eyes on you two.

You turned to him once you were engulfed in the silence of the room. “Listen. I don't know what you're playing at, but cut it out. I own you, got it? Don't go winking at me in the hallway like I'm your girlfriend or something.”

You expected to see him cower, blush, show any sign of intimidation – but there was no such emotion. The smirk he wore only grew in confidence. “You sure about that?” he asked cheekily. “Because it seems to me like you'll find any excuse to be around me.”

You couldn't believe the audacity of this boy. You were stunted for words; he went on. “Be honest with yourself. Once the week is up, you'll still find reasons to talk to me.”

You bit your cheeks; you hated how he was right, how he read you so easily. “And look, I'm done playing this game too.”

Your stomach dropped. Was he about to reject you, without you even confessing? “I'm not playing with you,” you tried to say intimidatingly, but your voice came out too small for comfort.

    “Me neither. So...” Hawk looked down at you; you could have drowned in his ocean eyes. You averted your gaze to the side, crossing your arms.

    “Fine. We can call it off early.”

Hawk chuckled. You wanted to punch him. “You still don't get it, do you?”

You returned your eyes to Hawk, ready to chew him out when he placed his hands on your cheeks, pulling you to him for a kiss.

You could feel yourself melting in to the kiss, feeling a rush of adrenaline run through you as you finally got to experience what you didn't want to admit to yourself that you craved so deeply.

When he finally pulled away, he kept his hands on you, your noses nearly touching. “I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Hawk admitted.

You half-smiled. “It's only been a week.”

Hawk had burst in laughter, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “You still don't get it.” Before you could protest his words, his lips met your once more.

    Maybe you could find it in you to forgive him, after all.

[cheelduh]

How to tie up a cute boy

(Highschool Au)

Pairing: Childe x fem!reader

Parts: 1  2  3

Word count: 4K

Warnings: Swearing, Scaramouche abuse, no Signora slander this time, shit humour.

Synopsis: "Why are you doing homework?" Childe groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

Note: Unedited yet again besties. Tysm for reading :) I got Childe after losing him to mf MONA, istg it was the most stressful moment of my life.

The clock ticks with its pendulum, ridiculing you as it holds the time. The gentle whirring of the air conditioning in the background serves as the icing on the cake to your pent up aggression.

You try not to glare at your phone too much after receiving a text from Childe that told you not to worry, that his dad picked him up and that he was in the comfort of his home, letting the flu blow over.

It took a lot of convincing from his part earlier that morning to get you to go back and actually attend the rest of your classes, making sure to check up on him every break plus the additional "bathroom breaks" you usually never take while in class.

"I can't let you get in trouble for me." He murmured with a small smile that pumped your blood a little faster than usual. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry your pretty little head."

You do exactly that.

You don't even know why you're so worried. He's sick, not dying. Not to mention, you aren't even his girlfriend let alone his friend to care so much. 

Your intrusive thoughts don't waste any time. You latch onto the one thought that takes over. He's probably dead. Lying in his bed in a heap of pillows, passing peacefully while his parents are in the other room. He's dead.

Okay, he's not dead. You intrusive thoughts sure do one hell of a job. He'll be fine, and in no time he'll go back to being a reckless distraction in your life that you need to surpass. Just another obstacle to add onto the list of things life has thrown at you.

But for an obstacle, he sure is kind of cute.

You refrain from bashing your head on the desk. School isn't really a preferred environment on your list of top ten places to shrivel up and die.

Speaking of death and all that is evil, why is Childe always on your mind? He takes up every nook and cranny of your day, constantly, and truth be told it's starting to boil your piss.

Every time you close your eyes you see his smug smile, and hear his stupid laugh. He's an annoying little prick who gets a rise out of exasperating you. Yet here you are, terrified by the warmth that blossoms in your heart when you so much as hear his name.

The final bell rings at long last, conveniently before you bite your tongue to avoid screaming, and not another second is wasted once you launch yourself out the door. You dodge through the crowd of students in the hall that are buzzing in excitement from it being a Friday afternoon, and you would be too if you weren't so damn hung up over a ginger with a battlekink.

Locker in view, you make a beeline and spend the next two minutes fumbling with the lock in your hands.

"Woah there cutie," Lisa speaks up playfully. "At this rate you'll break the poor lock with your bare hands."

For a moment you're surprised at her sudden appearance, but then remember that it's normal for her to worm her way anywhere.

"It's just—this lock is being dumb okay? It has no reason being a pain in my ass but it wakes up every day and chooses violence." You hiss through your teeth, a sharp metallic ring invading your ears when you lose it and jostle the combination lock against the door of your locker.

Lisa winces, but smiles teasingly nonetheless. "Want me to give it a try?"

"Please."

Lisa has the door open at record speed.

"I love you Lisa." You confess wholeheartedly, gripping at your chest. "I love you so much—"

"Yeah yeah," She waves you off with a grin. "Now hurry up and go save your boyfriend from the common flu. Archons knows he won't make the night."

You flush at the word "boyfriend" and don't give much thought to the insinuation that lies within the rest of her sentence.

Sliding your skateboard under an arm, you spin on your heel just to bump straight into Scaramouche, who's won the scowl of the century on his face. He's the last person you want to see right now, but apparently the universe wants to have a pissing match with you.

"Give this homework to that idiot Ginger." He shoves a stack of papers into you. "Tell him that once he's done circling the drain, I'm gonna kick his ass." He then leans in, murderous glint in his eyes. "And if you ever touch me again I'll take a shit in your cereal. That's not a threat, it's a promise."

You shiver at the thought of him squatting on your Cheerios, hands becoming clammy as you try and justify yourself. "It was an accident."

Your pitiful excuse earns you nothing from the navy haired boy. "It'll be an accident when I murder your entire family, three generations over."

"Hi Mona!" You wave excitedly over his shoulder at the body of students that are totally not Mona. With elation he fails to conceal, Scaramouche turns to look at the speed of light.

You take the chance to make your escape—not before waving to Lisa, chuckling to yourself. He's down bad.

With great expertise you file your way through the flock of students chattering near the entrance. , you confidently place your skateboard down on the sidewalk, ready to—

Wait—where does he live again?

You sigh heavily, ignoring the sadness as you thank the universe internally for pulling the reigns on your disastrous plan. Checking up on Childe at his house? With his family present? Making a complete fool out of yourself? What are you thinking? The possibilities are horrendous. He probably doesn't even think of you like that, he just likes a challenge and you pose as one.

You turn away to make a run for it in the direction of your home, all the while ignoring the nagging worry in your chest for Childe. He's probably fine anyways, you don't need to check up on him, and if you did he'd likely find a way to spin it and tease you relentlessly.

Although somehow, the thought of being teased by him isn't as dreadful as you'd like it to be.

Suddenly, an idea graces you, one that guarantees your misery by sating your obligation to check up on Childe. A litany of curses escape your mouth. Genius really, the amount of ways you can think of doing something that'll end in your demise.

"Adeptus Xiao." You whisper apprehensively, already regretting your decision. "Adeptus Xiao." Glancing around your surroundings, you barely notice the shadow that looms over you at your backside.

"What do you want mortal?" Unbeknownst to you, he strikes out of nowhere, making you jump back several meters. You manage to muffle a surprised shriek.

Xiao is Venti's -6 ft boyfriend, the vicious epitome of an eboy. He has a scaled tattoo covering up the majority of an arm, a few piercing holes in his ears, all matched up with a disinterested look. Somehow, he always appears out of nowhere if you call out his name. It's sort of disturbing in a way.

His amber eyes pierce through you, forcing a shudder of fear and dread to lace your blood, almost as if he can sense you shittalking him in your head.

With shaky hands, you ask, "Can you tell me where—"

"No."

"You didn't even hear me ou—"

"No."

"Please?"

He refuses to at least pretend to think about it for a moment.

"No."

"Why?" You frown, stomping your foot on the ground childishly.

"Because." He retorts with a lack of interest, but doesn't further explain his point. English teachers must love this kid.

"Okay," You say slowly, casually inspecting his form as you come up with an idea, briefly remembering Lumine mentioning it to you. "How about I give you my share on almond tofu Tuesday."

The lack of interest on his face wavers slightly. Bingo.

"What do you want mortal?" Xiao mutters gruffly, arms crossed, face morphing into subtle annoyance.

You wrack your brain for a proper answer. You can't just outright ask him or it'll seem like you have a thing for Childe, which you unfortunately do, but you'd like to keep a semblance of integrity. Ah yes, the homework!

"I gotta deliver these to Childe." You outstretch the pile of worksheets in your hands. "Except I don't know where he lives. Can you tell me?"

Xiao's eyes glint with danger. "Did you summon me for the trivial task of giving you an address?"

You nod furiously.

"Do humans have no shame?" Its rhetorical. Expressionlessly, he closes his eyes with intent focus, doing what you assume to be locating Childe's exact location.

He blinks an eye open, reaches a hand out. "Give me your phone." Palm waiting.

You hand it over to him almost desperately.

One glance at your bubbly phone case and he doesn't even try to hide his distaste. He taps a few times, then hands it back to you almost immediately.

On the screen is maps, and Childe's home is about a fifteen minute walk away.

Your jaw drops in disbelief. "How did you do that?"

"Easy," He mutters, leaning back against the school gate as the remainder of students walk past the two of you. "Locating demons that need subjugating is but a simple task."

There's a pregnant pause. Demon.

"Childe's a demon?" You gasp, even though you've always had your suspicions. Hence the reason you invest so much in demon-cancelling charms.

"What? No." He mutters with a roll of his eyes, and you note that his irritation grows the more questions you ask. "I had a physics project with him last semester."

That's why the charms don't work.

Your mouth forms an o, in fear that if you keep this conversation going on any longer, he'll snap at you. Especially when your next line of interrogation involves how he's able to appear and disappear into thin air.

It's a magic trick you'll want to master whenever Il Dottore has another conniption fit in the middle of the hallways after Kaeya tells him he looks like he has skid marks.

"Thank you." You say instead, trying to preserve his regard, but by the time you meet his gaze he's already gone with the wind.

—

Childe's home is surprisingly humble, considering the amount of fat stacks of cash he carries around in his fanny pack so care-freely. It's a normal suburban home from what you can tell, a little bigger than normal with a double garage, neatly mowed lawn and a few forgotten decorations from the windblume festival. A series of water guns lay forgotten near the entrance, making their presence known when you stumbled upon them.

It's hard to remain unphased. Especially since such a normal looking home has bred someone as ruthless as Childe.

Maybe it not the home, you think. Maybe it's the way he was raised. You recall a few glimpses of his mother in middle school, but because of your worse for wear memory retention, you can't ballpark her personality type.

As your thoughts wander further down to his parents and early childhood, villain origin story and what not, you're pulled out of your concentration when the door opens. The possible implications of being here are most definitely not in your favor.

Childe's mother is a stunning woman in her mid-forties who sure as hell doesn't show it in that jaw-dropping sapphire dress, topped off with a brilliant smile that makes your knees weak. Like mother like son, you suppose.

With her sudden appearance, strangely enough, you can remember how good her tiramisu bites are.

You take a moment to respond, swallowing thickly, only to stare at her stupidly.

His mother doesn't waste another second before ushering you in, oblivious to your star-struck expression. "Y/N? L/N Y/N? My have you grown. I remember when you were only this tall." She lifts her hand up a little above her waist, the jewels on her fingers dazzling with every movement. "How is your mother doing?"

"She's doing alright, busy with the clinic." You're able to find your words, smiling back at her, able to get somewhat familiar with her warmth. "I hope I'm not intruding. Childe forgot some homework." You say, heaving the short stack up.

"Ajax?" She laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. "I can't believe he's going by that now. I wonder when this phase will be over. He may act tough but he's such a softie, has the biggest heart."

You, in between concealed emotions and giggles that threaten to leak, try to hide the oncoming grin but it's impossible. "Well he's got you to thank for it."

"You flatter me too much Y/N," She fixes the up do, pinning back the blonde hair that deftly frame her familiar cerulean eyes. "I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Her words make you waver momentarily. The fondness you've refused to share, the drawn out stares in the halls, the lingering touches, you don't want to acknowledge it but it's there. Whatever it is.

"I'm so sorry for cutting this short dear," His mother sighs, grabbing her keys off the counter and placing her wallet in an elegant handbag. "My niece is getting married and we're already late. I told Ajax I'd stay if he didn't feel too well but he said he could handle a headache. That boy, I swear, always tries to power through."

You nod in understanding, but wait a minute. A headache?

Scrunching up your face, eyebrows furrowed, you ask. "Headache?"

She frowns, applying another layer of her rouge lipstick hastily in a nearby mirror. "I know dear, how unfortunate. The school nurse said it's a migraine, and I shouldn't fret much, but a mother can't help but worry. If only he weren't so stubborn, like his father."

As if on cue, a loud honk comes from outside.

"That must be him!" She exclaims, hurriedly sliding in her heels, turning back to look at your awkward figure. "Ajax is in his room, it's the second door to the right upstairs. I've made some lasagna for the kids, you ought to have some as well, I'll be upset if you don't—" Another annoying honk cuts her off, to which she scoffs, shaking a fist. "That old man, I'll strangle him in his sleep. I must be going now, goodbye dear." She reveals a twinkling smile at you one last time, waving a slim hand before picking up her heels and making a run for it.

The door closes with an unceremonious thud, gust of wind in its trail, leaving a bewildered high schooler in its wake.

Snapping out of your haze, overwhelming tides threaten to drown you whole. Being in Childe's home, alone, with him a handful of stair steps and a wall or two away, your cheeks are set ablaze.

Now that his mother's gone, you take a second to really look. There are a few toys littered in front of the TV, home covered in with soft throws and coordinated cushions, a lazy sectional plopped right in the middle. The marks on the furniture with all the stories, the light hued mismatched frames hanging on the walls and on all the table, so many pictures of those that resemble him, his brothers, his sisters, his family. You can almost hear the echoing laughter in the halls, the childish squeals and pitter patter of tiny feet slapping the hardwood floor.

This is where he grew up. This is where he retires to after a long day full of gratifying fistfights. This is where he was raised to be who he is today, ambitious and reckless, with the absurd dream to one day rule the world. This is his home.

It's...like being wrapped in blanket, safe and cozy, surrounded by all the love in the world.

Absentmindedly, your fingers trace the outlines of a younger Childe, two missing teeth and eyes full of dreams, hugging the side of his father's shoulder because his small arms can't wrap around them. Not just yet.

You make your way over to the staircase, which has even more frames littered across the wall, one that falls short of hiding the marks of a green crayon—another slice of domesticity you aren't quite accustomed to.

The reality sets in, and you come to a conclusion. This home is definitely not an environment for growing psychopaths, Childe just beats the odds like he beats up kids on the daily.

Your fist hovers over his door as you contemplate abandoning the sheets on a nearby table, but his mother was so sweet and polite, so incredibly hospitable, you wouldn't have the heart to make a run for it.

"I can see why he can't stop talking about you."

Three consecutive knocks. If he doesn't answer, you'll leave them at the door.

"Mama," Childe's muffled groans stem from the other side, and oh, you want to revel in the grave undertone of his voice because it's certainly not a common occurrence. "I told you I'm fine. You can go okay? I don't want you to be late, just need to sleep it off."

You blink, lips curling, and then knock again.

"Mama," He whines again, and it has you grinning mischievously. He's a mommy's boy, he has to be. The thought envelopes your heart with a newfound fondness. "Just come in and hurry."

You eagerly take in the room once you slip in, eyes scanning over every little detail, until they zero in on the heap of sheets smack dab on the single bed, a pair of feet dangling off the edge, topped with a comforter thrown over leisurely.

Childe's facing away from you, head dipped in between his shoulders, probably trying to find a position that's more comfortable. He's shivering, sweating at the same time. His mother must've been too preoccupied to notice. This isn't the first time he's used his exceptional bullshitting finesse.

"I can't believe you lied to your mother," You cross your arms, leaning back against the door.

With a jerk, Childe flings into a sitting up position, wide awake and aware of everything that is going on, a stark contrast from nearly seconds ago.

He blinks at you in shock, once, twice, rubs his eyes a bit, relaxes, then leans back, out of it completely. "For a sleep paralysis monster, you sure are kind of cute."

"For and idiot you sure are an idiot." You snort back.

"Wait a minute," He mutters slowly, jaw dropping. "You're actually here?!"

Ignoring his question, you opt to slap the papers on his desk to ignore your clammy palms. "Homework."

"And here I thought you came here all this way to be my personal nurse." He smirks, recovering from his momentary shock fairly swiftly. Doesn't refrain from giving you that shit stain of a bad boy grin, even with a flushed face and concavity under his eyes.

"I can be your personal mortician instead."

"I didn't know you were into role play babe, but I'll take what I can get." He winks, but is punished by a sequence of coughs that earn a wince from you.

"Headache?" You tease after he quiets down, but he remains as cavalier as always.

He sighs, sides of his lips still arched upwards. "My parents barely have any time to themselves, it's so hectic with the kids. What kind of son would I be if I couldn't even give them this?"

He must've threatened Barbara.

"You're," You inhale, briefly letting the silence hang between you two, mulling over what you wish to convey. sweet.

"Irresistible? Hot? Sexy?" He starts casual, arrogant smirk widening.

"Kind of not a complete asshole, is what I was going to say."

"Careful girlie," He narrows his eyes on you, playful lilt in his tone. The comforter is allowed to slip past his shoulders to reveal the goods that lie underneath, the complete naked chest of a post-puberty highschool boy who sprays too much axe. Full pectorals are something to pay for, stringed with smooth muscles that ripple their way over his toned shoulders. "If you keep teasing me like this, I can't promise I'll be the nice guy."

"One more time from the top," You bite back, avoiding staring at him for too long. "Without the congested nose this time."

With great expertise, he weakly throws a pillow at you, and you watch it exceptionally land at your feet, barely grazing the tips of your socks.

"Impressive," You whistle, not impressed.

He pouts, shivers, then is dunking his head back into the welcoming embrace of his plush collection of pillows.

With a sigh, you plop down on his chair, grab a pen and begin calculating derivatives.

"What're you doing?" He doesn't even turn your way, voice muffled.

"Homework," You reply nonchalantly, trying to calm your nerves. "unless you want me to get you something to eat, considering you puked out your gogurt on Barbara's shoes earlier. Congrats by the way, you're hit listed by her fan club."

"Why are you doing homework?" He groans, rolling off to the side and kicking off the blanket to expose himself in nothing but a pair of boxers. "I'm literally right here, naked and defenseless. Why aren't you taking advantage of me?"

He really has an IQ below room temperature.

Burying the formidable obligation to clock him in the face on behalf of society, you slowly get up to approach his bed, to which he grins widely in disbelief.

Apprehensively, you climb onto his bed, and he scoots over, excitement as clear as day. His hair's a wild mess from all the shifting, almost makes you want to card a hand through it. Your heart nestles it's way in your throat at the sight of his blazing blue eyes.

You pity him for what you're about to do.

"Relax Childe," You lean over him with confidence you never knew you had to begin with, face hovering inches before his. Your fists strategically grip the comforter on either side of him. "We have all day after all."

Although you attempt to pay no heed to his quivering hand that snakes up to find solace on your hip, you momentarily shiver at the tenderness.

He's eating this up and leaving no crumbs. Closing his eyes in anticipation, his lips tremble when he tries to close in the distance.

Abruptly, you cross both handfuls of sheets over his body, tying them securely in place to keep him docile. He struggles in your grip, eyes snapping open in surprise. "Wuh-What."

"Did you really think you had a chance?" You cross your arms, stepping back to get a good look at your handiwork.

"Honestly?" Childe huffs, struggles some in his restraints. "I wasn't really thinking."

"Typical," You scrunch your nose up, unscrunch, and then exhale. "You stay here and I'll go make you some soup. Well, not that you can really move but you get the idea."

"You're really going to leave me here like this?" He pouts cutely, melting you, and the sick bastard knows of his power.

"Relax," You wave a hand, "I may be evil but I'm not Scaramouche."

Meanwhile, Scaramouche sneezes as he tries to ask Mona out, falling straight on his ass from the kick back, making a complete fool out of himself. Mona doesn't mind though, finds it endearing.

Back at Childe's room, he raises a brow, expectant.

Going through the five stages of grief, you do something you've been wanting to do for a while, succumbing to the immense feeling.

Closing in the distance between you two, you suck in a breath and gently tilt Childe's head to the side. He blinks quickly, not quite expecting your sudden forwardness, about to say something that doesn't matter as soon as you place a tender peck on the side of his cheek.

Time stops, the world coming to a halt completely. A moment made in history, one you won't ever forget, fresh in both your minds from forward on.

And then you stagger away as if you've been stabbed.

"Soup!" You squeak, appalled by the sheer boldness of your actions. "I'll go make soup while you rest."

Childe, frozen, stares at you incredibly confused, and then beams.

Dear Archons, what have you done.

[ogravensimp]

Dad!Constantine AU: Rhiannon

first one shot in my Dad!Constantine AU but there is plenty more of this to come so enjoy and make sure to tell me what you think :D

"John? What's that? Is it a tool to help us practice today? John? Is tha-”

Constantine couldn't help but chuckle at the string of questions coming from behind him. He began to think about how less than a few months ago the little girl would barely say a word a day…now he can’t get her to ever shut up.

He turned around and looked down at the tiny figure that sat cross-legged on his rug, who only looked back up at him with confusion in her huge purple eyes. Unlike the ancient power that was leaking out of her, the child in front of him looked exactly as harmless as you'd expect a 7-year old to look.

With her dark-plum hair unevenly clipped short to reach her chin and choppy bangs to cover the red gem on her forehead, it really gave you the illusion that she was a normal human child. And John liked to pretend that the terrible haircut helped achieve a more ‘innocent’ look and in fact, better hid her demonic origins…but that was probably just his only defence against his conscience that nagged at him for not going to a professional.

But hey, she was the one that begged him to cut off her originally waist-length hair and he gave it his best shot with the tools at his disposal—which happened to only be a pair of kitchen scissors, an old magazine for reference and a faded ruler for 'accuracy', but at least Raven seemed happy enough.

He felt his lip tug as he remembered how she had childishly bobbed her head left and right in the mirror afterwards; enjoying the liberation of short hair.

It seemed Azarath’s refusal to cut her hair off was the only thing the kid seemed to dislike about the place.

In fact, she had thrown a near fit when John recommended they ditch the tattered white Azarathian robes he had found her in when he pulled her from the depths of hell. He looked at her current outfit and noted that she seemed to have grown quite comfortable with the human clothes given to her.

She currently donned a large purple knit sweater and a pair of baggy jeans with flowers sewn on the legs. They were probably in style twenty years ago and weren't even her size but John had limited knowledge on where to find children's clothes(or about children in general) and assumed she'd just 'grow into them someday' when he had chosen them from a local thrift store.

Again, as long as Raven liked them.

"This, my little angel, is a music record," he held up the square packaging to her and made a show of sliding out the large disk inside, "This plays music. They allow music up in that Azarath place of yours or just prayers?"

"In Azarath? No, not really," John noticed whenever that cult of her's was brought up, she'd always lower her tone and look down at her fingers as if apprehensive of speaking wrong of them—John didn't know why though, they sounded like a bunch of wankers to him, "Azar said that music is a distraction that would only disrupt my mind by causing me to feel...feelings."

John felt the melancholy in the air as she spoke. It was rare she shared anything; for a kid, she was pretty secretive and John couldn't help but push to know more about his new ward, "And that's a no go, ey?"

"Only for me." She seemed almost smaller now, trying to hide deeper in her baggy clothes—maybe that's why she never pushed for more accurately sized clothes, "The others would sometimes gather to sing mantras in the courtyard as that’s the only type of music allowed but during those times Azar would always put me in the highest tower so I never really heard anything but muffles.”

John sighed.

Sometimes he didn't know if those quacks in Azarath wanted to actually raise Raven or terminate her but the more he learnt, the more he found the answer leaning towards the latter.

He crossed the living room in one large step and kneeled to be face to face with the little girl who stared up at him, nervous, "Listen, angel, I don't know much about Azarathian chants but I do know...", this time he allowed the girl to touch the record—though gently, "Fleetwood Mac. The best band in the world."

"What makes them so special?", Raven asked softly as she marvelled at the disc in her hand; holding it like it was a precious treasure.

John smiled— something he found himself doing a lot of since the arrival of this certain hellspawn. Plucking the records from the girl's small hands, he stood up and reapproached the player he was standing by, "Let me tell you a little secret in the magical community, love."

He placed the record on the player before dropping the pin and quickly turning, excited to see the reaction on the girl's face. Raven just looked confused, her mini caterpillar eyebrows scrunching up on her forehead as the guitar intro began.

"Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her?"

He plopped onto the floor next to Raven and turned to her, "You hear her? Like a voice from heaven, innit?"

The little girl just nodded, probably unsure of the right answer.

"Takes to the sky like a bird in flight And who will be her lover?"

"Her name is Stevie Nicks and she's...one of us," He made a gesture of pointing between both of them to symbolise his point, his smile growing as her amethyst eyes twinkled in interest, " The 'White Witch' we call her but non-supernatural's don't know nothing about that, all they hear is the music but we, we can truly hear her."

"All your life you've never seen Woman taken by the wind

Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win?"

Taking her tiny palms in his, he instructed, “Now I want you to focus on your inner soul.”

She obediently followed instructions, letting her eyes fall closed and she instantly shifts to focus mode with an expression as still as a statue.

"She is like a cat in the dark And then she is to darkness

She rules her life like a fine skylark And when the sky is starless"

Through her delicate skin, he could feel her once-raging magic begin to ease from the form of a ceaselessly pouring tsunami to simple irregular waves in a vast ocean.

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?"

See, with Stevie Nicks being a witch herself, it only makes sense that some of her magic got laced inro all her music. Magic that had the properties to almost soothe one's magical core and opened up internal gates that were causing a blockage in one's being.

Similar to meditation. Just a whole lot more fun.

John simply didn’t believe in all that meditation stuff that Raven so pliably relied on and if he was going to take her in, it was his duty to teach her the many other ways she can control her abilities.

"Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon"

"I can feel it...I can feel what she's saying." Raven's voice was so soft that John almost didn't catch what was spoken.

Suddenly there was an intense spike in the calm aura that's once surrounded them. He felt the hands in his grasp tense as her once still expression drastically changed.

"She rings like a bell through the night And wouldn't you love to love her?"

Her small face was soon blown in full panic. Sweating like bullets, her already drained of life skin seemed even paler and the strength she used to struggle suppressed what a child of her stature should be able of achieving but John made sure to hold tight.

"She rules her life like a bird in flight And who will be her lover? All your life you've never seen Woman taken by the wind"

"John I don't like this! I...I can feel too much... make it stop!", Her eyelids shuddered as she seemed to be forcing them to stay shut.

Continuing to wiggle in his grasp, the magic concentration in the room got thicker and thicker making it harder to breathe but this was exactly what needed to happen and John knew this. So even though her hurting voice made his heart shatter, he had no choice but to steel his resolve in the face of her cries and just hope it will pay off, “John!? John, please….DAD!”

John didn’t know what hurt more, the way her demonic magic was stabbing him like shards of glass in his skin or the pain in her voice as she called him the title he never in his life thought he’d be referred as.

"Would you stay if she promised you heaven? Will you ever win? Will you ever win?"

“This is all your magic, angel, you got to feel your magic. Can't just lock it up, this is all you,”, he gritted his teeth while he was explaining, and filled with some unknown determination, he spat out a phrase he normally tried to avoid, “you have to trust me.”

Raven’s eyes flew open at that, revealing the orbs of amethyst that were wetting with tears. Her little mind struggled to wrap around the statement John had just said and for a moment she just stared at him. It felt like the longest moment of John’s life because he knew her empathic abilities could see the nervous wreck he truly is and he worried that would dissuade her.

For a second there was no action.

"Rhiannon Rhiannon Rhiannon"

Until, much to John’s surprise, she nodded, “ok…I trust you.”

And John could literally feel the truth in her words as she stopped struggling in his hands and started to return back to the focused zone she had been in before.

This time though, her eyes were open and staring straight at him but John found himself not minding.

“Good.” John took on the role of closing his eyes as he began to concentrate.

"Taken by taken by the sky" "Taken by taken by the sky" "Taken by taken by the sky"

He wasn’t going to just burden a 7-year-old with whatever destructive sorcery that was sealed in her small body, it was his job as her teacher and her…dad to try and guide the freed magic back to her core.

But for that, he needs to concentrate real hard.

The moment John could feel air moving in his lungs again, he knew he had succeeded. Opening his eyes up, he was met with the same pools of purple still staring.

“So, how’d you feel?”

"Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind Dreams unwind Love's a state of mind"

That was when Raven finally broke eye contact and instead looked down at her fingers, not in nervousness but this time in amazement, as if she could see the magic in her fingertips, “I don’t know…tingly.”

This time Constantine let a deep genuine laugh escape his throat at her childish choice of words, “That’s good, means your magic is finally spreading. If you ask me that’s a better option than keeping it all sealed up.”

Raven tilted her head to the side, once again confused.

Constantine didn’t blame her though, her little head was probably going through something similar to a whirlwind at this point.

After all, in her first few years of life, she had lived a life of nothing but restriction and then he spawns from nowhere finds and brings her from hell, seals her oh-so scary father in said hell and then begins to dismantle everything she’s ever been thought to believe in, in the first place.

Must be a lot for a 7-year-old to bear.

Luckily though, Raven is 7 and they aren’t known for dwelling on things for too long.

“Do you have any more songs like that?” She asked, now focused on the player that stood in silence now that the record had reached its end.

John smirked at that, “Oh plenty more of where that came from and we aren’t gonna stop at just Fleetwood, we got some Zeplin, Rolling Stones and…”

Raven just nodded, again, not knowing the right answer and simply letting herself be ‘educated’ on all things that John Constantine had to offer.

In her opinion, this was far more fun than her old teachings.

yes I got the Stevie Nicks is a witch from ahs coven, so expect a lot more supernatural TV crossovers in this AU cause they're now my obsession

[dirtyoatmeall]

The ways I love you (Matsukawa x reader)

A/N: I love Mattsun so much. I think out of all the characters, he’s the one I’d most likely end up actually dating, not to mention time-skip mattsun is a whole nother conversation. anyway I hope you enjoy, I just really love him.

Pairing: Matsukawa x Reader (gn pronouns but references to reader being able to be pregnant)

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Mentions of 18+ activity as a joke, spoilers for s2 (spring preliminaries), me not proof reading, me not knowing how to describe coming down from your tiptoes

--

Matsukawa liked to think he was observant both on and off the volleyball court. But as he watches you laugh from afar, head thrown back, holding onto your friends shoulder for balance, he can’t help but think, how did he not notice you before? It was enough to stop him in his tracks, unconsciously tuning out the sounds around him, blatantly staring at you as you continue to talk to your friends, a wide grin on your face as you gesture wildly, pausing every so often to laugh at the story you were telling. It took Hanamaki walking in front of him, blocking his view of you, for him to come back to his senses. He heard Hanamaki calling his name, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Hey earth to Mattsun, you okay bro?” He nodded in response, still thinking about your laugh, he wanted to know what you were talking about. He wanted to know your name. Hanamaki turns to look at where Matsukawa was focused so intently on before, grin breaking out when he saw your group. “Ahh, so that’s what’s got your attention? And which one was so lucky to literally stop you in your tracks?” He rolled his eyes in response to Hanamaki’s teasing, when Iwaizumi appeared next to him, raising an eyebrow at Matsukawa. “What’re you talking about?” Hanamaki is happy to fill the spiker in, and Matsukawa returns his gaze to your group again, before furrowing his eyebrows.

He watched Oikawa saunter up to your group, he must have called your name since you turned to face him, eyebrow raised. The setter says something that causes you to roll your eyes, hands on your hips and you respond, teasing smile evident. In true Oikawa fashion, he responds by pouting dramatically before scanning the courtyard, face lighting up when he spots his group of friends. He grabs your wrist, you wave to your friends before following and Matsukawa’s eyes widen when he realizes Oikawa is bringing you over to them. Did Oikawa see him staring? Were you somehow dating the setter? Matsukawa wracks his brain for any memories on a new fling when you two finally reach the group.

“Iwa-chan! (Y/N)-chan still won’t agree to being the manager! Won’t you convince them?” Oikawa says dramatically, letting go of your wrist in favor of attempting to lean on Iwaizumi, who promptly shoves him off, rolling his eyes. “And why would I do that? I don’t want to subject them to dealing with you anymore than they have to already.” You laugh at Iwaizumi’s insult as Oikawa cries out in offense. (Y/N), Matsukawa repeats your name in his head, wanting to commit it to memory. Though all thoughts immediately halt at the sound of your voice.

“I never said I wouldn’t, I just asked how you were gonna make it worth my while?” Your voice had a teasing lilt to it as you raised your eyebrows in anticipation of the setters response. Iwaizumi rolls his eyes again, grumbling about you egging him on. Oikawa brightens up, a flirty smile adorned as he leans closer to you, eyebrows wiggling up and down. “I know exactly what can make it worth your while.” You throw your head back, loud cackles of laughter filling the air, Hanamaki and Matsukawa chuckle as Oikawa pouts, crossing his arms childishly. After a few moments your laughter dies down, you make a show of wiping tears from your eyes before smiling. “Alright, just because I’ll get to more chances to make fun of you, I’ll do it.” Oikawa seems to ponder being excited or offended by your agreement, choosing the former and hugging you while Iwaizumi pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. Thankfully Hanamaki says what was on both of their minds.

“Soo, are you guys like dating or something?” He tries to be casual, eyebrow raised when Iwaizumi snorts, “I can tell you there is no chance of that happening, ever.” Oikawa sputters as you nod, nose scrunched in disgust.

“Let me put it this way,” you pause, thinking before your lips raise into a sly grin. “I would rather be spit roasted by the coaches of Shiratorizawa and Nekoma before I’d hold hands with Tooru romantically.”

Oikawa jaw drops as the rest of them crack up at your words. “(Y/N)-chan! You have to be spending too much time with Iwa, you didn’t used to be this mean!” You roll your eyes playfully before turning to the duo to clarify.

“In all seriousness, I used to live in the same neighborhood as Tooru and Iwa when we were kids, we went to school together up until middle school, when I moved to Fukushima, but I’m back now! And I gotta make up for all the time I missed preventing him from getting a big head, obviously Iwa hasn’t been doing his job.” Said ace narrows his eyes at you, grumbling before Oikawa cuts him off. “It was horrible not having you here (Y/N)-chan! We’re never going to let you leave again!” You smile softly at his admission, and Matsukawa wonders if he’s sick, why else would he be sweating in the middle of November?

--

Months later Matsukawa realizes that he wasn’t sick on that chilly November day in his first year, he was, much like now, infatuated with you. While he wasn’t sure exactly what his feelings for you were, he knew he had it bad. Ever since he noticed you, he started seeing you everywhere. In the hallway, when he was glancing out the window during class, anywhere he was, his eyes always found their way to your form. It didn’t help that Oikawa stuck to his promise, and you became an integral part of their group. He was seeing you at all times of day, even when he closed his eyes at night, images of you, laughing and smiling softly, danced behind his eyelids.

And of course, it did not go unnoticed. Hanamaki was, unsurprisingly, the first to find out. Now whenever he caught Matsukawa staring at you, he’d grin amusedly at the middle blocker, wiggling his eyebrows. Iwaizumi was even seeming to catch on, a knowing look on his face, small grin present whenever Matsukawa would flush slightly after contact with you, whether it was a seemingly innocent hug between friends, or you hanging off his arm dramatically while teasing Oikawa. Speaking of the setter, he was, without a doubt, the last person Matsukawa wanted to find out about his, whatever they are, feelings for you.  But he hid it well, only a few moments of weakness compared to all the other times he kept it together around you, however hard it was.

--

It was in his third year that Matsukawa was able to name his feelings for you, love. Love in the way his heart skips a beat whenever you laugh, in the way his hand twitches to lace his fingers through yours, in the way he can’t imagine not seeing you every day, in the way he fantasizes about a life with you; seeing you first thing in the morning, slow dancing in the kitchen to a song no one can hear but you two. He no longer hid it well, openly gazing at you with a fondness anyone could see was only for you. It seemed the whole world knew of his feelings, except you.

Oikawa found out about 6 months after you returned, the setter vowing to keep it a secret, saying something about letting fate bring the two of you together. Matsukawa no longer tried to hide it, though he wasn’t going to confess anytime soon, he wasn’t above shameless flirting, lingering touches pairing with his love-stricken gaze. Either you were the most oblivious person ever, or you knew but elected to stay silent. He wasn’t sure which he preferred.

It all came to a head the day they lost their chance at nationals.

The loss to Karasuno was hard on everyone, the third years especially. After Coach Irihata talked to the players, you step forward, getting their attention. Unshed tears shining in your eyes you smile sadly at the team. “I’m not a coach, and obviously not a player, so I know my words don’t hold as much value as they would if I was. But I don’t care. I am so proud of all of you. You worked so hard to get here, and even though the outcome wasn’t what we hoped for, I don’t want anyone blaming themselves, not a single one of you. You gave it your all, and I want you to be proud of that. I’m obviously not planning on being a motivational speaker after we graduate, but you get the idea.” A few of the players chucked, and more of them looked tearful than when you started.

For a moment you worry your words did more harm than good, until Iwaizumi steps forward, enveloping you in a hug. You let out a strangled cry/laugh when Oikawa follows his lead, the other third years joining and eventually the whole team, and you smile despite the tears running hotly down your cheeks. Over the 3 years you’ve been manager you have come to love and be loved by the team. As the group hug disperses to pack up for the bus ride home, you and the other third years linger, sharing bittersweet smiles.

The bus ride home is silent. The loss having drained the energy from the team, as many of the players are sleeping. You sit next to Matsukawa, head resting on his shoulder. As you start to drift off you slip your hand into his, sighing contentedly before succumbing to sleep. He looks down at your sleeping form, squeezing your hand as he smiles sadly. The day before he had briefly entertained the idea of confessing if they win nationals, but now, especially after your speech, he knows he can’t wait.

He gently shakes you awake when the bus arrives at the school, his heart stutters when you blearily look up at him, a tired smile gracing your features. He doesn’t let go of your hand when the two of you disembark, the first years telling you to go home when you try to help put stuff away. You tear up again, in appreciation for your underclassmen, looking up when Matsukawa squeezes your conjoined hands. He smiles and tugs you along, waving goodbye to the team before the two of you join Hanamaki and walk to the train station.

The train ride is peaceful, Hanamaki and Matsukawa talking quietly while you resume your place next to the latter, leaning into his side. You wave when Hanamaki gets off, and you sit in comfortable silence until your stop comes up. You look at Matsukawa, confused, when he gets off the train with you, He tugs you forward. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.” You try to ignore the butterflies in your gut and the heat in your face as you nod.

A few blocks from your house he stops under a streetlight, gently pulling you in front of him. Your eyebrows furrow as you search his face for any tell for his actions. You don’t know what to make of what you find instead, blush deepening when he takes a step closer and cups your cheek with the hand not occupied with your own. “(Y/N),” He sighs, and you think it sounds the prettiest when it comes from his lips. “Originally I wasn’t planning on ever telling you, and I thought about doing it at nationals,” He pauses, and you nuzzle into his hand, shifting your other hand to intertwine with his, a quick squeeze urges him to continue. “but since that’s not going to happen, now seems as good a time as any.” He takes a deep breath, taking another step forward, now toe to toe with you.

“I’m in love with you, have been for who knows how long. Well, I guess I do.” He huffed a laugh, “Probably since first year honestly. I remember the first time I saw you, I literally stopped in my tracks you were so beautiful. God, I sound so lame.” You laugh with him this time, tightening your grip on his hand. He clears his throat before continuing. “I know we haven’t really discussed our plans after graduation, but I wanted you to know, just in case there was some possibility. And when I say I love you, I mean it. I love you in the wake up next to you every morning and make you breakfast kinda way. The buy a cat together kinda way. And I understand if you don’t feel the same, I don’t want you to feel pressured, I just couldn’t not tell you, ya know? I think it would eat at me for the rest of my life if I didn’t.” He wasn’t looking at you anymore, choosing to look at your joined hands instead. Your free hand comes up to cover the one on your cheek, and he looks up to meet your gaze.

He wasn’t expecting the shine of unshed tears or the tender look on your face. You smile, and his heart does the little back flip it does whenever you direct one at him, but there’s something different about this smile, it holds unspoken promises behind it, ones he wants so desperately to hear come tumbling from your lips. “Issei,” You breath, and he shudders slightly hearing you say his name with so much emotion. “I love you too. I love you in the wake up next to you every morning smiling even though you have the worst morning breath,” He snorts and your smile grows as you continue, “I love you in the adopting two cats together kinda way, because we didn’t want it to be lonely when we’re away. I have loved you since the day you told Tooru you were my baby daddy,” You laughed brightly as you recall the memory, the horror on Oikawa’s face when Matsukawa went along with the prank.

“You fell into the role so effortlessly, and yet I never regretted a prank more, because after feeling you pull me against your chest, wrapping an arm around my waist for the day, I was hooked. Constantly thinking of ways I could touch you again.” Your face was a deeper shade of pink, bordering on red, and Matsukawa smiled as he recalled the memory, and how you were more touchy afterwards.

You turn your head, softly kissing the palm of his hand, eyelashes tickling his fingers. Your hand moves to lightly grasp his wrist when his hand moves to your neck, resting on the side for a moment before cupping the back of your head as he leaned down slowly, committing the sight of you; eyes fluttered closed, lips slightly parted, to memory. Impatient, you push yourself upward on your toes, closing the small space between you as your lips finally meet.

You untangle your hand from his, moving to bring both upwards, over his chest and around his neck as you tilt your head slightly, deepening the kiss. His hand tangles into your hair and his other hand moves to settle on the small of your back, bringing you closer as your lips move against each other slowly, pouring years of love and pining into the kiss, savoring the feel of the other. After what feels like forever, you part, panting slightly, out of breath. You rest your weight back on the balls of your feet, smiling as Matsukawa follows you, bending down to rest his forehead against yours. You close your eyes for a moment, processing what just happened, and what it means for the future.

You open your eyes as he kisses you again, this time shorter, but no less sweet. You have a dopey smile on your face when he pulls away, standing to his full height. He untangles his hand from your hair, running his fingers through it for good measure and takes your hand, which had fallen back to your sides, before nodding in the direction of your house. “C’mon, I said I’d walk you home, and we’ll be here all night if we have it your way.” He teases at the pout on your features when he pulls you along the street. 

You turn to him once you reach your steps, hesitant to leave. His hand cups your cheek again, directing your attention back to his face. “Hey, what’s wrong? You look like I’m gonna disappear if you leave.” You bite your lip slightly instead of answering, though he can see it in your eyes. He smiles softly and pulls you into a hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow, I promise. I’m not going to miss out on a chance to rub it in Makki’s face that I got a girlfriend before him.” You laugh lightly into his chest, heart swelling at the word. You breath in the scent of his cologne, squeezing your interlaced hands before stepping back,

“Okay, tomorrow. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He grins at the obvious reluctance present on your features. He lands a quick peck on your cheek, ruffling your hair. He waits until you close the door behind you before leaving. He checks his phone as he walks, cursing as he realizes he only has a few minutes until the last train of the night departs.

[yanderecandystore]

How about some yandere!giant headcannons please?

(Yes I took the lazy route when drawing this, and if you see people you don't recognize it's because I decided to put my friends in it-)

(( I also had drawn Mikudayo and Miko because I just thought it was funny to make them considering the time I had mistaken them for each other-))

TW/tags: gender neutral reader // I'm gonna make the giant male because you didn't really say giantess? So I'm assuming it's male/gender neutral pronouns // being treated like a doll/pet // kidnapping // language barrier cause I'm yearning- // very generic giant story // delusional thinking // slight stockholm syndrome

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

Don't even ask me, y'all read about eldritch creatures so a giant is literally no big deal- [Yandere!Giant x Reader - Headcanon]:

Oh dear, oh goodie, oh Lord-

Does anyone need a bit of context? Maybe a little storyline to start with? I could just go straight to the good stuff though??

Listen- I could pull out so many mother fucking posts under the category of Yandere Giants- Almost all Eldritch content in my blog involves the height difference of: vewy tol x vewy smol UwU

Anyway- Malos, the giant of our story. I'm going to go very generically since I didn't want to say something that could possibly not be of your taste boo-

Malos is your classic troublemaking giant, the type of which you would hear about in fairy tales created to scare the human folk all around your kingdom. All those stories talked about the world beyond the clouds, the giant's kingdom, living their lives in wealth, very far from the ground below where humans (their "favorite delicacy", allegedly) lived.

The one thing that all those stories shared in common was the violent behavior of the tyrants above, their arrogant and greedy nature mixed with the horrifying sightings of giants who would somehow find their way to get on land, specifically targeting a small town to torment. Many have said to have faced a big beast walking around in the woods, some would claim that they actually fought a giant or two, although there is no way to confirm such bold claims of being true.

Were you a common townsfolk who got themselves too far into the woods? An adventurer finding their way into a town surrounded by mystery? Or were you perhaps a noble who by terrible misfortune, had their carriage be stuck during a heavy storm in the dark of night?

It doesn't really matter which one you choose, considering that what happens next would be inevitable. You get lost at the dead of night, the townsfolk not even being able to comprehend how someone can simply disappear like this. You would wake up at a place you couldn't even begin to recognize, it was a very well decorated room yet none of it felt familiar to you.

Maybe it was because of how fancy and modern it was compared to what you were more accustomed with on land, or maybe it was the simple fact that everything in this room was awfully huge compared to you. It took you quite some time to realize that you were not only on top of a massive bed- But that you were trapped inside a bird cage.

Before you could question whether you were having a hallucination or not, your joyful captor made its way inside the bedroom. With such a blissful expression that makes a chill run down your spine- He was so big, it was obvious your captor would have been a giant considering your current location, yet it still shocked you for some reason.

Much to your dismay, your captor does not speak the same language as you, which made you scream at him to free you and put you back where he found you. You have noticed he wasn't understanding a single word coming out of your mouth the moment you started crying at the giant, begging for mercy in fear of what could be your destiny here.

Yet here you were, just- Being observed by such gentle eyes, concerned of your current state. He could talk and shush your cries all he wanted, but you couldn't understand a single thing he meant, the only certainty in this case being the fact you ain't getting out of here so soon.

Malos isn't evil, even if you can't understand what he says- You can tell he is very gentle with you, maybe because he sees how scared and panicky you are, or because he sees you as a pet- Who knows?

He did give you a lot of signs of seeing you as possibly just a "pocket companion", a pet and a doll, someone he could take care of and take wherever he wanted. You noticed how there was no one else who lived with him, maybe he was that lonely and desperate to find a friend that he took you- Without considering your actual feelings on the action.

You weren't too small compared to him, you were basically the height of his hand- A small doll to him, just for him. Whatever life you used to have could be kissed goodbye at this point, because even if you wish everything could go back to normal, that ain't happening, boo.

Malos loves dressing you up, giving you little trinkets to use, giving you small portions of his own food, hearing you make all those lovely sounds he doesn't understand one bit off yet it is still willing to try and comprehend it. He is a very skilled crafter, you know? He knows how to create small toys that will make wonderful gifts for you, at least in his own mind.

Whatever situation you were in that would have brought you to meet him, he would have thought the same thing regardless of what background you could choose for yourself- In Malos eyes, you were lost in the cold of the night, looking so lonely and in need of someone's attention, which he could relate to since he was also lonely and looking for company.

Malos is quite delusional, he has his moments where he has to face reality as a lonely toy maker who kidnapped a human to be his little companion. In these moments of lucidity, he will look at you as if he was lost, as if he was searching for an answer- A confirmation of his actions.

And looking at your cute small little self, confirms his beliefs. You were lost, he was also lost- Yet you found each other, and that's all that matters for him.

After being faced with so much love and attention, considering how weeks and months have passed since he got you here, it's not hard to imagine you feeling more comfortable in his presence.

His skin is so much warmer than yours, his rough hands hold you with such care- It's hard to not give yourself in to his gentle touches, to his incomprehensible whispers, he has such a smooth voice that is hard to not enjoy listening to it.

You didn't plan this to happen- But on each day that passes by, you start feeling like being taken care off is way better than having to fend for yourself down there with the other humans. His company has been so heartwarming, and it hurts you the times he has to go out and take long periods of time outside his house, probably selling his toys or even buying more food for you two.

It's so unfortunate to think that you, someone who was once a person, was now submitting to him and enjoying being treated like this- You would curse at yourself for being so weak, so desperate for his affection, to the point you enjoy being petted and loved as a doll.

With Malos, you could ignore the voices screaming at you to get yourself out of his house in the clouds, but whenever you were left alone locked inside a doll house he built, you would cry yourself to sleep until you could ignore your conscience telling you how much of a failure you are.

If Malos was somehow aware of this confusing thoughts inside you, he would try his best to calm you down, while also pulling you closer to the confirmation that he is here to help you, to take care of you and that there is no shame in you liking him as well. He already loves you so much, he just needs you to do the same for him.

However, Malos isn't always gentle with you- Not only is he easily excited, but he is also easily angered, very childishly. His outbursts are never on you, but rather on the things around you. You can feel the table under you shake whenever he has his temper tantrums, you can see him taking away some of your items as a form of punishment in case you have been acting up.

He would also give you an ice shoulder for some time if he felt as if you were in need of apologizing (even if he didn't understand your language, he could still see through your mannerisms if you were truly sorry or not). He wouldn't ignore you for long, considering how he is also very touch-starved, which leads into the next point:

Malos loves petting you, and touching you. You're soft and squishy and so charming to hold- How can he not love you to bits??!

He gets very confused sometimes, he isn't sure if he sees you as a small pet-like companion, or as a possible- Well, partner. His adoration towards you will start to twist into actual romantic interest, and I warn you to be careful darling-

The moment he sets his mind into something, it's nearly impossible to change it back.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[labomi]

play by the rules [1]

Nanami Kento is a well-known bodyguard who always adheres to his own set of principles when completing a job. But when his next assignment is protecting you, he suddenly finds himself second-guessing his morals and questions whether or not some rules are just meant to be broken.

pairing: nanami kento x f!reader

words: 2.7k

warnings: none for this chapter, please look at the series masterlist for general content warnings

notes: i’ve been meaning to write a multichap fic for nanami for so long and i finally got around to outlining most of the story and writing the first chapter yay! i’m a little unsure if the plot will actually be good or not lol but i’m hoping it’ll turn out okay! thanks for reading!

series masterlist

There’s a distinctive knock on your door that pulls you out of your thoughts as you lay on your bed with an unopened book in your lap. You had been meaning to read the story for the past three months after seeing rave reviews about it online, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite find the energy to start reading. Every morning, you pulled the book from your shelf with the full intention of getting past the first page. But every night, it was returned to the same spot on your shelf, remaining untouched.

With a quiet sigh, you force yourself to crawl out of bed, leaving behind the comfortable warmth of your blankets. You drag your feet as you walk over to the door, dreading the imminent conversation you’re about to have.

To be honest, you’d rather he just leave you alone to wallow in self-pity in the comfort of your own room. You knew he had good intentions, but you dreaded his frequent check-ins with you. If he had no good news to deliver, you didn’t want to see him. And there had been no good news for the past three months.

You have no expectations that today will be any different.

With a hesitant hand on the doorknob, you take a deep breath and try to suppress the bitterness you feel towards the person on the other side of the door. Once prepared, you open the door with a wide grin and a bright twinkle in your eyes.

“Hi Dad!” You greet him with a high-pitched, chipper voice.

Your father looks pleased to see your lively expression. “Good morning, princess. Do you mind if I come in?”

You manage to hide your surprise. Most of his visits consist of a quick hello just to confirm you’re alive in your room, but he heads off to go back to work. If he intends to enter your room, there must be something serious he wishes to discuss. You try to ignore the small glimmer of hope that flutters in your chest. 

“Of course!” You waltz over to your bed and sit down, patting the space next to you. Your father sits on the plush bed beside you, twiddling his thumbs idly in his lap.

“I’m aware these past three months have been hard on you, princess,” he begins.

You dig your nails into the palm of your hands and bite your tongue to prevent yourself from spitting out a harsh retort.

Yeah, no kidding.

“They’ve been tough for me too.” He pats your leg comfortingly, giving you a sincere, apologetic look. “I hate seeing you stuck in your room all day, but you know I only do this because I love you and because I want to keep you safe.”

Your father’s words are genuinely heartfelt. There’s no doubt he cares for your well-being and bemoans the unfortunate situation, but you’re not in the mood to be swayed by his guilt.

After all, it’s because of him that you’ve been trapped inside for three long months.

“It’s okay, Dad. I don’t blame you.” You try your best to act like a caring daughter who wants to console her father and assuage his fears that you despise him for his actions. “I know it’s for my own good.”

Three months ago, your father fired your personal bodyguard. 

This also meant that three months ago, your father shredded your only ticket to the outside world.

You can only venture outside the family’s property lines if a trained professional, tasked with keeping you safe from potential harm, accompanies you to pre-approved destinations.

Your father worries about your safety in public, because he often does business with local mafia groups in the area. He is not an influential or well-known member of the underground economy, but in this line of work, it isn’t unusual to piss off the wrong person in a deal gone bad. Family members are the most common targets, so you are a natural choice for disgruntled clients to take their frustrations out on. 

On one hand, you believe it is unfair that you are forced to live a restricted life under the constant protection of a bodyguard because of your father. You have nothing to do with his business, yet you must suffer from the consequences of it.

On the other hand, there is no doubt that you reap the benefits from the success of your father’s career. You had never worked a day in your life and always received any material goods you asked for, so perhaps you do deserve to face at least a share of the consequences.

Your father is insistent that you must have your own personal bodyguard after an incident involving your mother that occurred when you were just a baby. There was an altercation when she had encountered one of your father’s enemies while doing some errands alone in the city.

It hadn’t ended well, to say the least.

So for three long months, you were stuck inside. To his credit, your father had immediately begun the search for a new bodyguard, but his vetting process was so rigorous that it was not a timely process. There had been some mishaps in the past with previous guardians, and your father had vowed to never let those mistakes happen again.

You know you should be grateful that your father cared about your safety enough to have a dedicated group of his team spend endless hours thoroughly investigating each and every potential candidate. You also know you shouldn’t complain about being trapped in a luxurious mansion, but you hate being at home.

You hate seeing your father’s workers around the premises.

You hate thinking about what sort of shady business deals are happening just a floor below you.

You want nothing to do with it. You don’t even want to think about it, which is why you prefer to spend as much time as possible away from home. 

“I’m so glad you understand,” your father says with a relieved sigh. “But I have some good news this time.”

Your breath hitches in the back of your throat. The moment feels almost surreal. You had been waiting to hear those words for so long, you almost thought it would never happen.

“I approved your new bodyguard.”

This time, you didn’t have to fake your excitement.

“Really?” you gasp, looking at your father with wide eyes.

He nods at you.

Unable to contain your burst of elation, you throw your arms around your father with a squeal, giving him a fierce hug. “Thank you! Thank you!”

Your father lets out a hearty laugh, patting your back as he revels in seeing your utter joy. “He starts tomorrow, so you may leave the property again in the morning.”

In less than 24 hours, you are free to once again explore the city, visit popular shops, and stop by your favorite restaurants. You can barely contain your enthusiasm as your heartbeat drums in your chest from the rush of adrenaline after hearing such wonderful news. Pulling away from your father, you continue to beam at him, feeling an unusual wave of gratitude towards the man.

A loud beep disrupts the heartfelt moment.

Your father looks at his smartwatch with a tight frown. “I’m so sorry, princess, but I have to go to a meeting now.” He gets off the bed and gives you a small smile. “I’m glad I could finally give you some good news. I’ll hopefully see you for dinner tonight.”

Before your father can leave, you reel in your scattered thoughts after being almost too excited to think straight. “Dad, before you go, can I at least ask for this name?”

You cannot believe you almost forgot to ask such a crucial question.

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.”

You nod at him. “Thank you! Good luck at your meeting!”

Alone once again, you throw yourself a little celebration which consists of childishly dancing around the room blasting your favorite “good vibes” playlist. Afterward, you grab your laptop and plop onto your bed with a satisfied grin. You crack your knuckles. 

It’s time to get to work. 

In order to maximize your free time tomorrow, you need to have a rough idea about what you want to do and where you want to go. But before you start the task, you need to make one important phone call.

“Hey, Itadori.”

Itadori Yuuji is one of your father’s henchmen, but he’s a sweet boy who had nowhere else to go when his grandfather died. Luckily, he isn’t directly involved in the main operations of your father’s business. Known for his fast feet and powerful arms, he is mostly used as a source of manual labor to move heavy boxes that are brought in or shipped out of the various underground warehouses scattered throughout the property.

The two of you had become friends when you saw him trying to sneak food out of the main kitchen during the late hours of the night. Only your family and your father’s trusted confidants had permission to be in this part of the mansion.

Itadori immediately got on his knees and begged you not to tell anyone that he was stealing food, but you just laughed and showed him where the good snacks were located. Together, the two of you had a mini feast using the leftovers from the culinary staff. It was the first of many secret dinners to be held.

“Hey. What’s up?” he answers.

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Yeah. Sure.”

“Can you sneak into my father’s office and copy a file for me? It’s someone named Nanami Kento.”

There’s a groan. “Seriously? But you know how hard it is to sneak into his office,” he whines over the phone.

“I’m sorry, Itadori,” you apologize. You know you aren’t making his life any easier, but you need him to do this for you. “But I know you can do it. You’ve done it plenty of times before without a problem.”

Itadori sighs. He knows he can’t refuse you, not because he’s afraid that you’ll turn him in for punishment (or worse). No, Itadori genuinely likes you, and he’s grateful for your presence in his life for many reasons. Therefore, he does whatever he can to help you out whenever you ask.

“Alright. You got it.”

“Thanks, Itadori.”

Several hours later, a manila folder is slipped underneath your door. With a victorious grin, you grab the folder and set it on your desk. You shoot Itadori a quick text confirming that you got the delivery and thanking him once again for his help.

Quivering in anticipation, you open the folder and see a grainy, black and white copy of a man’s photo on top of the stack of papers. Even with the image’s poor quality, you can see the man’s sharp cheekbones and styled, light-colored hair. You think he looks rather handsome, but you’re not quite sure with the fuzziness of the copy.

Setting the photo aside, you read his file with an interested hum. Because of your father’s rigorous vetting process, the folder is stuffed full of numerous background reports. You vaguely wonder how Itadori slid such a large stack of papers under your door.

Nanami Kento, huh.

You flip over a page and continue reading.

What an interesting man.

“Did you finally accept a new job?” Gojo asks curiously, craning his neck to get a better look at the papers spread about on Nanami’s desk. He spots a photo of a woman among the various files that catches his attention. “Who’s that?”

Nanami rubs his face with an exasperated groan, wishing his coworker would mind his own business for once. He tries to hide the photo under other papers, but Gojo is too quick. The white-haired man easily snatches the photo off the desk before Nanami can touch it and waves it in front of him in a teasing manner.

“Nice try,” he grins, pulling back to observe the photo up close. “Oh, she’s pretty cute. I’m guessing she’s your new client?”

“No,” Nanami answers begrudgingly. He knows Gojo won’t return the photo or leave him alone unless he partakes in the conversation. “Technically her father is, but she’ll be the one under my protection.”

“Oh, so you did accept a new job then.” Gojo returns the photo with a satisfied grin now that his original question had been answered. “Surprised it took you this long to choose one. How long has it been since you finished your last assignment?”

“About three months. I wasn’t in a rush to start a new job.”

Nanami can afford to be picky about his assignments now. Over the years, he has built a strong reputation as a proficient bodyguard who always follows orders and always gets the job done. Now that he is well-known in the industry with a long list of satisfied clients, Nanami no longer has to scramble to accept any odd job. Plus, as part of Gojo’s renowned bodyguard service agency, he can rely on the secretaries to filter out any scams or seemingly impossible requests before they reach his desk.

Nanami is now constantly flooded with inquiries from influential celebrities, notorious mafia members, and other wealthy figures. These people are always willing to pay big bucks for an extra sense of security as they go about their lives, but Nanami is no longer interested in solely the money now that his multiple bank accounts are flush with cash. Instead, he wants to take it easy with a simple, straightforward assignment that won’t involve a lot of gunfire, blood, or death. 

Being a bodyguard is a lucrative career, but it is also both physically and mentally taxing.

Simply put, Nanami is tired.

This is why he waited three long months to find his next job. With each additional request, he ignored how many zeros were listed as compensation and instead took his time to scrutinize the client, their family, and their motivations in seeking a bodyguard. He had a mental image of what he was looking for in his “perfect” job and much to his surprise, he stumbled upon a request that checked almost every box.

While Nanami was lost in his thoughts, Gojo had secretly snatched your file from the desk and had been skimming through it. He couldn’t resist learning more about this new client.

When Nanami returbs to his senses, he sees the missing file on his desk and glares at his white-haired coworker. Gojo just laughs in response. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’m just curious to see what kind of person would pique your interest after all this time, Mr. Picky.” He purses his lips. “Hmm, she’s not much younger than us. Surprised she’s still single too. Aren’t most women in these sorts of families forced to marry early to strengthen business ties? Oh, maybe her personality is so bad her father can’t marry her off to anyone!”

Nanami rips the file out of Gojo’s hands with a scowl. “None of that concerns me.”

“Aww, come on, Nanami,” the white-haired man pouts. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time with her. What is she’s a demon in disguise? Women are pretty scary, you know.”

Nanami figures Gojo skipped the part in the file where your father had described you as a “bright, bubbly young woman who loves to shop and eat”.

“I think I can handle it,” Nanami responds flatly. “After all, I can reasonably get along with everyone except you.”

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically, acting like he had just been shot. “Nanami, you’re so cruel to me!” He then drops his hands and places them on his hips with a devious grin. “Alright, I’ll leave you alone now. Good luck! And don’t fall in love!” He lowers his sunglasses and winks. Gojo can’t help but get in one last jab to irk his coworker.

“You don’t have to worry about that.”

Nanami is a serious professional, one who always plays by the rules. He adheres to a certain set of principles in order to remain successful in this line of work. Without them, situations can get messy, and he has all too often witnessed other bodyguards make the mistake of deviating from protocol and facing the consequences.

There are three fundamental rules that Nanami always follows without fail:

Never go above and beyond what a job asks you to do.

Once a job is finished, leave immediately.

Never get personally involved with a client.

And under no circumstances would he ever disregard any of these rules.

[arhvste]

MIYA OSAMU - BUN IN THE OVEN

- summary - working alongside your husband brings moments of domesticity outside your home which you reveal is about to become a little bigger - fluff - x f reader

- an - this was based off of this ask an anon sent in earlier today, i’ve posted atsumu fic that links to this one !! thank you for the idea it was nice to write domestic samu :) this is also for @zumisace because i know you love samu and i love u >:)

-

“Oi, Samu! Stop flirtin with ya wife right in front’a me and get cookin, I’m starvin!” Atsumu whined as he rested his head against the kitchen prep counter which was currently occupied with countless cooking utensils scattered across the cool metal surface and various ingredients dotted around.

“Yer just jealous I have a gorgeous wife and you don’t” With a smug smile, Osamu wrapped his arm around your waist bringing you in close enough for him to press a quick kiss to your flour dusted cheek.

“Yuck! Not over the food I’m beggin ya!”

You giggled and pulled your husband back in close to you before turning to give a quick smile to his irritated twin.

“Perhaps we should find you a girlfriend Tsumu! I know a few people who I’m sure would be at least willing to go out on a date with you.”

“Yeah, you’d probably have to pay em first!”

You and your husband laughed lightly at the setter’s expense causing him to groan and sit up straight.

“I have plenty of girls linin up for me dont’cha worry bout that!”

Osamu snickered and motioned for his brother to take a tray of freshly prepped onigiri out to the front of the store.

“Yer damn right ya got a line waitin for ya, or more specifically, they’re waitin for ya to bring more food out so get to it.”

Atsumu grumbled but obliged as he slumped off the stool and took the tray with ease out to the front where drooling customers were waiting to pounce on any fresh batch of onigiri they could.

“You’re so mean to him sometimes.” You hummed as you continued to shape the rice into the correct size triangles as Osamu cut seaweed grass into accurate rectangles.

“It’s all outta love darlin.” He offered a warm smile to which you happily returned. “Of course he’s gonna be jealous I have a gorgeous, helpful and amazin wife! Anyone would be jealous.”

You blushed at his words and flicked him lightly leaving small dust prints of flour on his apron. “So gross!” You whined only for him to pull you into his chest and get you to look up at his handsome face.

Despite the fact the Miya brothers were twins, you still couldn’t help but find Osamu significantly more attractive than his older twin. This was even before you’d fallen for the man. There was just something about him that made him more desirable, not intending to offend Atsumu for he definitely wasn’t someone you’d consider unattractive. Perhaps it was his mature and responsible traits or maybe it was his hardworking and determination that drew you in. It didn’t matter either way though. You loved Osamu Miya for everything he was, physical and personal traits all included. He was the man you fell in love with and he was the man who had wanted you to become ‘Mrs Miya’, a title he often liked to refer to you as.

Osamu leaned down and rested his forehead on yours sighing softly. Caressing your cheek with his warm calloused hands, he pulled your face closer to his and pressed a warm and delicate kiss to your lips before securing his hand at the base of your neck while the other found its way around to the small on your back, drawing small circles with his index finger as he tenderly kissed you.

He was always good at catching you in these moments, Osamu never shied away from showing affection towards you whenever you had a second of privacy. The long hours he worked at his restaurants and home office took a toll on your time spent together, only making his levels of clinginess heighten until eventually it would snap and he’d refuse to keep his hands off of you when he’d get to see you again.

When you had suggested helping him in the restaurant he wasn't opposed to the idea at all. He knew he could count on you and that you were more than capable at cooking after being with him for so long. He loved the feel of getting to be domestic with you outside of the warm and loving home the two of you shared.

Finally pulling away, Osamu admired the soft twinkle in your eyes that he always found himself getting lost in.

“God, I’m lucky yer my girl, my favourite, beautiful girl.”

You hummed gently as you wrapped your arms around his small waist.

“Well, I hope you’re ready to potentially let me share the title of your ‘favourite girl’...”

Osamu’s eyebrow quirked in confusion as he muttered a puzzled “huh?” before you pulled one of your arms up to cup his warm cheek.

“I’m pregnant Samu…”

His eyes widened as he searched for any sign of insincerity in your expression. Then again, you weren’t one to pull a joke like this on him in such an atmosphere, you had to be telling the truth.

“Samu?” your voice laced with concern and worry as your husbands mouth stayed shut as he studied your form with soft but shocked eyes.

“Sorry! For real? Like, yer not playin with me are ya?”

“Of course not!”

Osamu felt tears prick in the corners on his eyes and wasted no time grabbing you by the waist and lifting you in the air in pure glee.

“I’m gonna be a dad? Fuck, I love you so so much y/n!” He laughed joyously as you let your own laughter intermix with his own.

Your home was about to become a family home and Osamu couldn’t have been happier. Not only did he marry the woman he loved, but now alongside you, he was going to get to raise a child the two of you had made together. A million different scenarios and questions ran through his mind as he placed you back down and wrapped you in a tight embrace. Would they look more like him or more like you? Were you going to bring your child to work some days or should he take time off. Would his kid be able to tell the difference between him and Atsumu? Would his kid even like onigiri? Oh, who cared? Right now, the most important thing on his mind was how much he loved you and wanted this with you.

Hushed but excited mutters of ‘I love you’ were traded between the two of you as Osamu peppered your face in soft kisses. Absolutely everything was right with the world in that very moment.

“Samu! Yer gotta get out there! Animals I’m tellin ya! Absolute animals out there! It’s like feeding hour at the zoo!”

Well, almost everything was right in the world.

“Comin yer idiot.” Osamu sighed before pulling away from you after you wiped his eyes.

“Thank fuck and- oh! Were ya crying ya little pissbaby?” Atsumu snorted when he saw his brothers slightly reddend eyes.

“Oh please, yer the only pissbaby here with yer stupid corn coloured hair.”

“It’s been toned since highschool actually, Bokkun taught me how to do it so I’d appreciate it if yer acknowledged that.”

“Whatever and besides, ya can call me pissbaby however much ya like but just thought I’d tell ya, I’m the one thats gonna be the dad to a real baby soon so shut yer trap!”

Atsumu’s mouth gaped open as he looked between you and your husband, surprise shown in his expression. You shook your head at the brothers typical bickering and strode over to the two of them grabbing another tray of freshly prepped onigiri to take out to desperate customers.

“I hope we don’t end up with twins.” You muttered as both boys snickered following out behind you as Atsumu bragged back to Osamu that his kid was gonna like ‘Uncle Atsumu’ more than his own father to which Osamu childishly quarreled back.

Nevermind a child, these two were enough for you to handle for now, but you just couldn't wait for your own angel to enter the world and had no worry in the world as you knew they’d have the best dad in the world and a semi-decent uncle.

general taglist → @atsumuwoah @bloody-bella @bbymilkbread @miracleboy420 @doggonudez @atsunakaashi @peteunderoos @tsukishimagizzard @saturnfarie @toffees-main @zumisace @boosyboo9206

[cryptidax]

Fallen Aliases

-DISCLAIMER: This is my first attempt in angst so please remember that as you read!!

-Word Count: around 1,605 words

-The reader here is, once again, NOT the traveler. They are a high-ranking member of the Liyue Qixing and have a personality based on Xingqiu and Rosaria but share the same hunger for battle as Tartaglia. They also use a polearm as a weapon and have a vision. :)

NAMES, such a common thing, yet it holds such significance to even the immortals. Cursing one's name might result in you breathing your last; Praising someone else's title might flatter them; Falling for another's alias might result in your end. The people of Teyvat hold names in such high regard, yet. Why, why did you love someone when you didn't even know their name?

Ah yes. The truth is as clear as day now. It was because you were blind. As the elders would call it, You were a fool in love. Despite that, why do you hold all the memories with him in such a fond manner? The day when you met can still be remembered as clear as the water in the ponds of Qingce Village.

The feeling of your polearm in your hand and your vision hanging from your belt is something that exhilarated you. Especially now, with several new foes for you to beat in front of you.

"This is much more interesting than doing boring paperwork, don't you think?"

From an outsider's perspective, seeing a Qixing member speaking to some Ruin machinations in the middle of the night would make them think they are going crazy. After all, all the Qixing members are dignified and elegant people who have enough ambition and power to uphold the will of Rex Lapis despite being mortal. People who are as clear and transparent of their ways just like Morax. (Y/N) is the hidden spear of the Qixing, a weapon with dangerous potential yet remains covered to the public. One minute they could be speaking in front of the Milileth about their new plans for defense; next, they could be slicing down several Ruin hunters by the coast of Liyue and laughing as if they are playing with toys while doing so.

"It's a shame such ancient machinations must be shut down.. oh well, Night Night little robots.~"

Using their elemental burst to enhance their weapon, (Y/N) swings it in a clockwise motion to finish the ruin hunters and watch as they fall only to disintegrate into blue dust. Hearing the ruffling of the bushes beside them, they ready their weapon once again and turn around to meet a new foe.

"Whoever you are, come out now, and I might be merciful tonight."

Anticipating a new fight, the Qixing member was let down as they see an orange mop of hair instead of a beast or machination to face.

"Well, you are disappointing." (Y/N) bluntly said as they stared down the newcomer. The (h/c)-haired person observed the hydro vision hanging framed in a Sneznayan designed border from the blue-eyed stranger and readied their vision for combat once again.

"I never knew the Liyue Qixing were so hospitable to others." the newcomer stated in a playfully sarcastic manner. "Anyways, You can call me Childe, (Y/-"

Cutting him off as he was about to say their name, (Y/N) hostility asked many questions towards Childe, Each question containing less friendliness as the last. The Sneznayan answered all these questions without fail, yet (Y/N) never let down their guard.

"Master Childe!!"

The duo turns to the noise to see a female fatui member loudly calling out for superior while forcefully making her way through several large faunas.

"Well, that's my call to go Mx. Bigshot. See you next time!"

Childe childishly says as he quickly goes towards the fatui member. You could hear him loudly playfully shouting back at her by repeating her name. Shaking their head in a joking manner, the (h/c)-nette heads their way back to the office, dreading the paperwork they have to write as a report of what they had done for the night.

This schedule goes on every night for several weeks. (Y/N) goes to clear out monsters, Childe appears out of nowhere and helps out with destroying them, talks a bit, says goodbyes, and repeats the next night. (Y/N) has tried to stop him, but he keeps insisting to the point where he would keep his arms around them unless they allow him to stay.

A blind man could see how in love they were, from the way they looked at each other when they slay monsters in the night, to the way each would hold each other's gaze for more than one would consider professional.

They were in love.

The elders called it beautiful. Singles held jealous looks to their relationship yet congratulated them nonetheless. Children fawned to their parents on how they wanted to grow up to have what they had. The two held hope that despite who they are, what they do for a living. They hoped that they at least can have this one thing that can share.

But oh, What fools were they to believe that two mortals can forever ignore reality.

The day started so pure as if the archons all agreed to give humanity one good day, A pair of lovers waking up to gaze at each other lovingly as they murmured random and insignificant news to each other sweetly. To others, this may be unimportant considering how much influence these two people have over their respective nations, but these two moments like these mean the world to them. Sadly, they must head up and attend to their duties. Giving a goodbye kiss to each other, both get ready for their work before going out to each work locations. If (Y/N) bothered to look back to awhile longer when they gave each other a goodbye, they would see underlying melancholy in the eyes of their lover. Maybe that would have been the key to keeping their relationship.

It truly is sad how relationships take so long to build up. Yet be shattered in just the snap of one's fingers.

Hearing the closing of the front door, (Y/N) looks up to see the tired and beaten form of their lover bandaged up. It honestly broke their heart to go and comfort him, But what needs to be done is more important. Not only for them but for their co-workers who care for them, and for the citizens of Liyue who were affected by the awakening of the ancient sea god.

"Childe."

His name. A name that flowed out of their mouth with a tone sweet as honey. Now felt like they were eating sandpaper as they said it.

Looking up to see the blank yet hurt look from his lover, Childe, the eleventh fatui harbinger, felt something that he has not gotten for several years from someone that does not share his blood. Guilt.

"(Y/N) I can explai-"

"Save it."

Giving a sad smile to the fatui in front of them, they blankly say how they know how he caused the disaster. Each word seems to be like another arrow being shot towards the Sneznayan as his lover said it in such a way that it was impossible not to question his actions. Maybe this would've been more bearable if his lover was angry and was rapidly throwing insults, but they said it in an accepting way. Like they anticipated that this would happen, and that. That somehow made him feel more hurt than if the latter happened.

"Childe, or should I call you Tartaglia,"

People say that second chances are the cultivators of a better relationship,

"I believed we could've made this work in a way that we can pretend we are not two opposing people."

They say that hardships like these would blossom into a memory that they could recount with a nostalgic smile.

"I promised that we would get through this together,"

But love is a battlefield and in the relationship of (Y/N), the sword of the qixing, and Childe, a warrior of Sneznaya. That statement quite too literal.

"Ha... I apologize, but that promise is one I cannot keep, not after that disaster you have summoned..."

There are no second chances in battle,

"I loved you, but now... I see that I do not even know who you are."

For once you swing your weapon,

"Goodbye Childe, For our sake, I hope we never see each other again."

You have no chance to take it back.

Hiding their tears as they walk out of their old abode, never looking back in fear that they will not stand firm in their decision. (Y/N)'s heart cracks each step they take, mind plagued by scenarios of what else they could've done. Walking turns to jogging and jogging to running, the Qixing member rushes to their new residence, an apartment in Liyue Harbor, and opens then shuts the door quickly. They slump down on the floor, wanting to cry. Time seems to stop as (Y/N) reaches up to touch their face.

"Why can't I cry?"

It seems like the archons won't even give them the comfort of tears.

Seeing the fading silhouette of his ex-lover as they walk away, Childe solemnly walks to their, now only his, room and opens his drawer to get out a small velvet box. With a sad look and teary eyes, he opens the box to reveal a beautiful Varunada Lazurite ring. A ring that he hoped would've been placed on the finger of who he loves. The young lord holds the item close to his chest and quietly whispers through choked sobs,

"But I love you (Y/N).."

After so many years, the eleventh harbinger, an instrument of war, the big brother of several siblings, the annoying co-worker of the harbingers. Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax... Cries. At this moment, all the sides of one man weep.

Fate must be satisfied. They just punished a catalyst of death, A being who gets excitement from a battle, a person that should be victim to the full wrath of the archons. No matter how good a person acts, blood will forever stain their hands. By this law, Childe, Tartaglia, Ajax is a wicked being. He is an evil man... right?

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 9

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

Tulipa gesneriana ~ Commonly called the Garden Tulip. A lovely flower with cherry red petals that is never seen cultivating by itself.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

“Now that we’ve had our pity party, how about I act like a proper grandmother and show you some photos.” Oma smiled and rose to grab a weathered tin and a photo album from the bookshelf. Levi felt like the couch was engulfing his form with its soft cradle. When Oma turned around she was met with his body half eaten by the overly plush material; his shoulders hunched and tea propped up against his chest as his body reclined even further inward. He looked pleasantly comfortable and stiff at the same time.

As she plopped the two memory vessels on the coffee table, Levi’s features hardened akin to the rusted box now in front of him. The foreign lettering connected in geometric shapes that he recognized but could not decipher. They left remembrance teetering on the tip of his tongue.

“That’s my father’s cigar box.” Oma explained when she noted his fixation on the object. Levi heaved himself out of the couch’s embrace and propped his elbows on his knees, still fixated on the memento.

“The writing on the side…” Levi let his sentence flit away on his breath as his brain delved deeper into the patterns.

“Writing? What makes you think its writing?” Oma pursed her lips and picked up the weathered box to give it a closer examination. “Looks more like a decorative design.”  

Oma shrugged and passed the box to Levi. It felt cold on his freshly tea-cup warmed palms. Flashbacks of loitering about the weathered guard posts, frosted cabins, and Utgard Castle drew back vivid images of the strange symbols. They sparked his curiosity enough to imprint within him, but he didn’t care enough to debate with the old woman.

It would be a memory put on hold for another time.

“I’ve seen something like it at one of the outposts on old crates of supplies and alcohol.” He stated, placing the box down in resignation.

“Hmm.” Oma gave one final acknowledgement before popping the top open. She lifted the haphazardly stacked photos out of their resting place with a gentleness that cradled each precious paper.

As she flipped through them, Levi felt like he was gaining memories of a childhood... a family ...that he never had. It was like observing someone’s entire life through a looking glass. These pictures were of Oma; of her and her husband, of her and their children, of her and you and Petra.

Levi’s brow knitted when she came to a photo of a spry, young version of herself embracing a familiar face-only with a full head of lucious locks.

“You and- Pixis ?” Levi said in exasperation and squinted at the photo as if that would make his shock dwindle.

Oma couldn’t have been much older than you; her statue was slight but her physique was robust. Her hair cascaded from her bun and softly framed her face that smiled wryly at the camera. She was arm in arm with Pixis; his eyes crinkled with happiness and hair (comically) blowing in the wind.

“Ah yes. Dot and I were both squad leaders and grew very close.” Oma sighed with a nostalgic glow. “That man truly had a way with his hands. The last time I saw him Ymir knows I couldn’t restrain myself-”

Levi inhaled his tea so furiously that it seared his throat with the same passion Oma gave off for the garrison commander. She looked on in amusement as he collected himself and cleared the assault on his lungs.

“You mean, you two-” Levi started, mentally wiping away the unwanted visual before it left a permanent stain in his cranium.

“Oh yes. As casual and dedicated as friends but as steaming as this kettle.” Oma’s youthful vigor radiated extra brightly as she reminisced.

“Why didn’t it work out?” Levi asked.

“My husband snatched me away.” She winked and continued on her trip down memory lane.

“Ah! Now that one of you is here…” Oma began excitedly as the next photo was unveiled. “You can tell me all about this one.”

“You have this photo?” Levi’s voice was barely above a whisper as he relieved the corporeal memory.

“Yup, she sent it to me for safe keepings. Said in her letter that she saw your face enough everyday that she didn’t need the photo right now.”

Levi felt the familiar feeling of his heart expanding when he set his eyes on your elegant beauty. The photo in question was taken at the last Royal Gala after everyone had swapped their military uniforms for evening wear. He always secretly wished he had more excuses to see you in a gown such as that one; the smooth fabric billowed gracefully from your hips, accentuated your curves, and pushed upward the swell of your breasts that were cradled in a lining of lavish lace trim. It would be eternally alluring to him, partially from the lavish overstimulation of the elite banquet and because it was-well- you. He remembered the insatiable feeling of the stark and sudden transition of having absolutely nothing to his name, to being flushed with an abundance of everything in that moment.

You were beaming, a brilliant smile outshining the flashy festival mask that you adorned. Levi...not so much. He gazed into the viewfinder with features hard but eyes delicate in a way that demonstrated he was putting up with your antics. The two of you were pressed into each other's sides as the decadent swirling of the wealthy framed your faces.

If you squinted closely, and looked past the grainy texture and into the background, one would be able to observe Hange swinging Moblit wildly in circles among the party-goers.

↞♞♘↠

“Why not?” You prodded, arms crossed in defiance at his rejection of your proposition.

“I’m not going to wear some gaudy mask that most likely has the sweat stains of hundreds of people on it.” Levi stated with sharp disgust. His eyes nearly rolled out of his skull when you began childishly tugging on the sleeve of his tailcoat.

That tailcoat was the precise reason why you desperately needed to get in line for this photo. It was hard enough to see Levi out of anything but his scouting uniform or his everyday combo of a long sleeved button down and trousers. Both options were easy on the eyes but tonight he looked ravishing. The tailcoat was expertly tailored and clutched the curve of his slim waist and the expanse of his toned arms close to the obsidian fabric.

He was always clean, but cleaned up -so to say-he was absolutely divine. You would never tell him this but his fox like beauty paired with the fancy dress endowed him with the grace of a prince.

“You don’t have to wear the mask! Although that would make it less fun…” You mumbled in a last ditch attempt, hoping he would take pity for you on this special occasion.

“Great now that we’ve established it’s not fun, let’s go get another drink.” He replied, unfazed and unwavered. He began turning towards the outer end of the ballroom where waiters danced with shining trays instead of partners.

“No!” You yelped, scampering as hurriedly as your heels would allow you to stand in front of him. Your chest was heaving in excitement for the extravagant evening (and by the walls was that corset tight). Your heels increased your already apparent height difference and made your very... perky breasts at eye level with his gaze. Levi coughed to rebuild his crumbling composure. He kindly reminded himself he was at a government sponsored event and that no matter how desperately he desired to let his eyes wander this was not the time and place.

“You said I look beautiful tonight, right?” You quipped with a pointed glare.

“Of course.” His lack of hesitation in his answer made the alcohol content in your blood skyrocket as you became drunk on him even more than you already had.

“Well if you would take 5 minutes to take this photo with me that’s 5 minutes until I’m willing to sneak out of here with you. Then you can see this beautiful gown on your chamber’s floor.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief akin to the iridescent pearls that were nestled into your ears.

Levi’s brow quirked in intrigue and you were a deer caught in the sly beams of his eyes.

“Fine.”

↞♞♘↠

“What a wonderful gala that was. I usually despise such events but I gotta examine you in person for the first time, no matter how brief our encounter was. I got to see my girl in such a lovely gown, and I got to absolutely feel Dot-”

“I don’t need a narrative.” Levi intercepted quickly with a sharp tinge of annoyance that sent Oma into a mess of snorts and laughter.

That strange sensation washed over him once more. The pleasantly warm bubble that made him feel like he was home but standing on the outskirts of the precipice all at once.

“Is that why we didn’t get to actually meet?” Levi trailed off as realization snapped him like a taut rubber band. While he was forced to blandly entertain the higher ups and delegates your grandmother was snogging a commander.

“Oh hush, you’re an adult, stop acting like a teenage boy.” She playfully chided with a glint in her eye that made Levi take step closer to that tempting bubbling feeling.

A gentle knock on the wood paneling caused Oma and Levi to raise their heads to meet Felicia’s gaze.

“I’m going to head home now, Frau Vogel.” She said with a tired smile as she poked her head around the living room archway.

“Damn, it really has gotten dark hasn’t it?” Oma mumbled as she took in the waning light.

“My dear, it’s much too late to be walking back by yourself. You can stay in your old room.” Her response was a medley of chastising and fondness.

“O-oh, no. I mean-how kind of you-but I don’t have a change of fresh clothes and these ones have bits of blood and schnitzel on them…” Felicia sighed with a whine. Oma was about to interject her dramatic behavior when Levi’s voice filled the space instead.

“I’ll walk you home.” He offered, tone as smooth and calm as the golden liquid in his cup. He placed his cup on the saucer with a small clank and rose from the couch. Felicia bristled in bashful gratitude as he quietly padded over to the front door and began lacing his boots.

Oma gave Felicia a wink and nestled further into the couch, letting the cushions cradle her old bones and the aroma of the tea lull her into relaxation.

“The kitchen is clean, I folded all of the towels-” Felicia hurriedly explained when Levi held the door open for her.

“Yes, yes, thank you. Now off you go, I’ll come fetch you tomorrow.” Oma shooed the jittery girl out of the house with a wave of her hand.

“Oh, Felicia-” She interjected. The young woman poked her head back into the archway.

“If I hear one peep out of you about not paying you for looking after Y/N this next week I will have to start cooking the schnitzel myself.”  

Felicia gasped in betrayal as the fireflies that worshiped the porch flowers sent she and her companion off on their moonlit walk. The grit of shoes against the pebbled road took over the silence which Levi observed Felicia desperately wanted to fill. She seemed to feel pressure to speak, to offer something other than the emptiness of the countryside. Levi, on the other hand, was completely content with bathing in the blissful numbness of the cricket symphonies and the wind kisses of the path.

“How does our village compare to where you’re from?” Felicia barely overpowered the whistling of the grass with her slight tone. Her question was an innocent one. One with good intent that Levi didn’t dare spoil given the past two days of anguish.

“It’s...definitely more colorful.” He let the sweet air fill his tired lungs. He had seen a larger aurora of colors in these past 48 hours than he reckoned he had ever seen in his monochromatic existence. Going from the diluted underground to the emerald green seas and burnt brick of the walls didn’t leave much room for hue.

“So you’re from an urban area then?” Felicia continued, enthused that Levi had picked up her conversation.

“You could say that.” His reply was vague but left no room for further explanation. Truthfully, he felt as much from that festering tumor as a migratory bird feels for its winter home. It was where he was birthed, raised, existed . But he didn’t truly live until he rid his mouth of the dusted, stale air and crumbing ceilings of the underground.

Felicia’s mouth hung open with an incoming response when a screech erupted in its place. Levi grunted as she jumped sideways right into him, colliding into his sore shoulder. He just barely caught her as he staggered backwards. She stumbled against his chest before he propped her back up straight by her underarms.

“What the fuck just happened?” He asked with an irritation he couldn’t restrain. Felicia’s bodyweight had punctured his shoulder with sharp needles that disturbed the dull hum of his pain.

“Oh walls, I’m so so SO sorry sir-I MEAN LEVI!” She babbled as she floundered to eject herself from his support so as to not burden him any more.

“I-I, something moved in the bush right next to me!” Felicia’s tone wobbled just as her legs did. Levi followed her trembling gaze and prepared himself for a feral dog or a wild boar. If it was anything bigger than that, like a bear, they were absolutely fucked.

The snort that erupted from the bush elicited another shrill scream from the maid. Levi’s muscles tensed in the realization that he would have to fend off the beast with his bare hands in his absence of weapons. He brought up a protective arm in front of Felicia when a pawing in the foliage neared the paved pathway. The thick anticipation mingled with the drumming of hearts was the soundtrack to the animal moving into the lamplight.

Levi’s muscles instantly relaxed. All except his chest. It shook with candid chuckles that materialized as a small hum and blossomed into a full blown laughter.

“Hello Big Shit.” Levi’s smile was radiant against the artificial lighting as Puddle aparated out of the bushes, his form now fully visible in the dim illumination. “He must have followed us.”

“B-big shhhh?” Felicia stammered, eyes wide with embarrassment. She was too polite to finish the last word.

Then he did it again.

He laughed so freely it put the crickets to shame. Felicia pursed her lips awkwardly and smoothed her nervous hands along her apron.

“He’s Y/N’s.” Levi cooed , reaching a delicate hand out to the horse and letting him press his plush nose to his knuckles. Felicia’s jaw went slack once more. She felt like she was regarding a completely separate individual she had previously been acquainted with. His cicada shell had been discarded on the path with the others and now only tenderness enveloped the man’s being.

“He is quite terrifying.” Levi teased gently as Puddle extended his neck to nuzzle hot breaths into his cheek. Felicia flushed at her overreaction. Levi turned from the horse to her with a glow that made her swear he was a tranquil forest spirit rather than the man who was walking her home. At her shock he immediately reigned himself back in, clearing his throat and partially crawling back into his cicada skin.

“If he’s followed us this far he’ll keep walking with us.” Levi said, the brief bloom of outward happiness coming to an end.

After a few minutes of only the comets’ luminous words trickling through the sky and the occasional snort, Felicia spoke up.

“It’s nice to see you happy.” She commented bashfully.

“It’s not like I haven’t been happy before.” He huffed, unsure of where to place her heartfelt compliment among the ever turbidness of his mind.

“I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just-I’ve never seen you smile before.” She cringed as she said it and Levi’s snort mimicked the horse behind them. He let her observation marinade under the moonlight.

“Happiness shows itself in different ways.” He mused and the corners of her lips upturned smally at her silliness.

“I just can’t imagine what you and Y/N have to go through.” She said with the careful articulation of a confession.

“D-did you see it happen?” She asked apprehensively. The nightmare scape tore through his cornea and implanted itself as if he was seeing it vividly again.

“No.” He exhaled.

The mass of flesh reeked of steamed rotted meat in the background of your shuddering form blanketed in torn cloth and soaked in sticky blood. His feet were caught in a time loop, too slow to reach you but too fast to wrap his mind around the potential discovery of your demise. His knees burned against the fabric of his trousers as they slid on the viscous ground to you. Your eyes were open wide and even though they were looking right at him, they went right through him like he was transparent against the skyline. The titan and you shared a bed of grass but by the walls not a resting place.

“But I saw the one that did it to her.” He continued as he blinked away the flash of mental scar tissue. “Her blade was lodged into its neck and it was bleeding profusely from its eye.”

Felicia winced at his description.

“She’s grown so strong.” Her whimper got lodged in her throat.

Little lanterns perched on the exterior of modest cottages floated into existence on both sides of the road as they neared Felicia’s neighborhood.

“How long have you known Y/N and Oma?” He asked to change the conversation for the sake of both their emotional turmoil. Felicia brightened up a bit at his term for her mistress.

“Since I was very young.” She smiled the weight right off of Levi’s shoulders. “My parents worked for Oma and her husband. I became Y/N’s babysitter or sorts, and by default many times Jean’s too, then the housekeeper to make some money.”

Levi recounted her reaction to the photo of Jean earlier and decided to attempt to lighten the mood like the wispy moss that dangled over their heads.

“Jean is single.” He revealed and eyed her in muted amusement for her reaction. Felicia turned beet red, the statement adding an extra sheepish pop to her step.

“O-oh, that’s hard for me to believe.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Really?” Levi replied without a drop or sarcasm. He understood why you put up with the boy because you had been friends for so long. But he would forever wonder how mentally stable the person who would willingly date him was.

Felicia gulped as his question hung out to try on the overarching maple branches.

“W-well, I mean-he’s funny, considerate, determined-”

“Determined to keep his long face up my asshole.” Levi finished her musings, dodging a moth as it flew too close to his nose. Felicia giggled at his half-assed insult.

“Determination, no matter what the kind, is a handsome quality.”

Levi hummed at her sincere answer. Her excitement over the boy rubbed warm circles into his chest. It reminded himself of his blooming feelings for you.

“When was the last time you saw him?” He asked as Felicia led him down a left fork in the road.

“Oh, a little less than a year ago? He and Y/N don’t get to come home a lot, you know.”

Their conversation was concluded in the middle of the road when Felicia halted in front of a beige cottage.

“This is me.” Her grin pushed up the apples of her cheeks and she cheesily pointed to the home. Levi nodded once and watched as she delicately climbed up the steps, deftly avoiding the garden rocks in the darkness until she reached her porch.

“Thank you for walking me here. You’ll be okay finding your way back?” She affirmed as she turned her key into the lock. Levi nodded once more and she breathed out a timid laugh.

“Alright, good night Levi.” She smiled sweetly.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Big...um.” She turned to Puddle and wrinkled her nose.

“Shit.” Levi finished with crinkled eyes.

“Sh...shit.” She blurted and danced in place as if she had uttered a tremendous sin. Levi waited until she was halfway inside when she surprised him by returning to his presence. She paused, the light emanating from the open door allowing them to see each other clearly. She threw him a genuine smile that made him feel naked in the pale night.

“You know, you fit in really well here.”

Levi twirled the circlets of metallic promises between his fingers as he let the warmth of this evening’s reactions carry him home.

Fuck, did he just think home ?

In such a short amount of time, these gardens of tulips and those that harvest them had uprooted the numbness he had trained himself to harbor. He’d now gotten a sickeningly sweet taste of life and it was going to be hard for him to not grow addicted to it. The rings began to feel too heavy for him to carry and he placed them securely back in his pocket as he neared the estate.

With Puddle contained for the moment, he tapped his dirtied boots against the doormat and stepped into the living room. His feet sank deep into the fertilizer as he looked upon Oma. She had fallen asleep curled into the sofa, her empty tea cup cuddled into her embrace and the photo album discarded on the adjacent cushion.

He felt oddly like an intruder as he gingerly released the cup from her grasp. Felt the peculiar stab of domestic alienation when he draped the crocheted blanket over her. This was what home was supposed to resemble. Not a sullen room with a single bed and a mother called upon only to come home a wilted flower with her petals torn. Levi was knee deep in the garden soil now and he dove further and further into the dirt every passing day he spent here.

He tiptoed up the creaky steps, shed your father’s clothes in exchange for more appropriate sleepwear, and gravitated to your room. The armchair screeched dully against the flooring as he brought it closer to your bed. And he allowed himself to dream of living for once instead of just existing.

You fit in really well here.

Morning arrived on the chaotic wings of angry sparrows and a pleasant plush heat on his back. Levi groaned as he felt his back scream at him for his hunched over position. He clutched the blanket to his body as he stretched out the kinks. He rubbed the fluffy material between his fingers as he groggily recalled that he definitely didn’t go to sleep with this. As he sat up a light fluttering fell to the ground from his shoulder. Looking to the floor he noticed a note. He bent down to retrieve it and held it close to his sandy eyes.

I let you sleep in today because you need it-don’t deny it.

I’m off to get Felicia and we’re stopping by the apothecary on the way home but we shouldn’t be too long.

Here’s a blanket.

You don’t want your body to be as cold as your heart <3.

Oma

Levi rested his head on his blanket covered palm, nuzzling into the softness as he sighed in mild contentment.

“I lied-I understand how the two of you are related.” Levi whispered lightly towards you, the sounds as airy as the birds tapping at the glass.

It was another beautifully scenic day dressed in another of your father’s outfits babysitting another kettle of tea. Levi peeked out the kitchen window and wondered if everyday in this countryside was euphoric. But rather than basking in the lovely weather he opted to spend his morning tea with the one whose absence left this house just short of paradise.

He was careful to not clank the tray around as he reentered your room and spread open the curtains. However, the moment his fingers pulled the fabric apart the little winged rats announced their presence rather aggressively.

“Fuck off.” Levi threatened with a flick to the glass. His finger came back coated in dust.

"Felicia is a fucking disappointment of a cleaner."

And so the morning was spent sipping on temporary relief and gazing at the embodiment of comfort in your bed until his cup grew vacant. His chair creaked with age as he abandoned his post to refill his energy source.

Time slowed as it did two days ago and it was a miracle he avoided burning his fingers. They froze on the hot kettle as he was electrocuted by a weak gasp.

“Lee-” A desperately familiar voice with the body of a crumb murmured. He whipped around to see his most treasured blend of colors open up into his being.

Conscious.

Looking at him.

Actually at him.

The china fell from his petrified fingers and hit the rug with a bounce.

“Le-vi”

[anika-ann]

In the Spotlight (S.R)

Type: One-shot

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!reader    Word Count: 5050

Summary: The one where Tony pushes Steve into a photoshoot, rubbing his hands and smirking at such action being almost a practical joke; a great way to make Cap squirm for a good cause.

Well, the joke just might turn out to be on him.

Warnings: mention of child cancer patients and disabled kids, Tony being a bit of an ass, attempt at humour, some language

A/N: The idea is a courtesy from a wonderful person, chase-your-dreams-away who always saw Chris’ FILA 2015 photoshoot as Steve showing he actually can pose. Thank you, sweet! This one’s for you!

(gif not mine)

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“Ah, Cap! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

It wasn’t that he dreaded to hear there was a mission; that would be fairly alright even if it meant that the world was once again a terrible place with horrible people who needed to be stopped in it. No, Steve’s fright was caused by something else entirely.

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘Just the guy I wanted to see!’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully excited, beaming in a manner that told Steve that his friend was about to revel in the discomfort he was about to cause to him.

God help him.

Steve forced himself to continue walking, a tight mile on his lips.

“Morning to you too, Tony. What’s the matter?”

The man behind the legendary Ironman suit blatantly wiggled a finger at Steve, smirking; a clear sign that he already had his coffee, possibly with two shots of espresso.

“Morning. Glad you asked. You’re free in the afternoon, right?—Yeah, I already checked the agenda you keep with Jarvis-“ Make that three shots of espresso. Also, incredibly RUDE. But guess that what one gets when living in a building ran by an artificial intelligence. “-so I set up an appointment like four weeks ago-“

Steve shook his head, raising his hand in attempt to stop the rapid fire of words coming out of Tony’s mouth.

“Tony, hold on a second-“

“What?” the billionaire snapped, frowning. He hated being interrupted.

“First of all, I don’t have to share all my plans with Jarvis-“

“But you do. Sorry to break it to you, but you have no social life to keep under wraps.” Ruder. “…or do you have a hot date today?”

Steve was so embarrassed and so frustrated with the man that he was tempted to say yes just because. To make a point. But from the two men in the room, he was the less petty one, so he told him the truth.

“Well, no-“

“See? No problem here-“

“Yes there is!” Steve protested, crossing his arms on his chest as anger started to build there. “I could have had plans! You need to consult things with me! It’s about principle!”

Tony eyed Steve, unimpressed, his right brow arched. “Really? Principle? We’re gonna go there? I don’t think so. Aren’t you curious what the appointment is about?”

Steve sighed exasperatedly, so not done with the conversation Tony so carelessly dismissed, but he in fact was curious, wanting to be prepared for whatever insanity the man came up with.

Tony planning stuff usually equalled Pepper planning stuff, or both of them together, except Pepper had a habit of asking first before confirming the plans and setting appointments. Also, plans by Pepper usually equalled PR. Steve wasn’t too fond of PR stuff, genuinely hating shaking hands with politicians with smiles as fake as their election slogans.

“What’s the appointment about, Tony?” Steve asked to humour his not-exactly-a-friend-at-the-moment.

Tony smirked once again, a hint of mischief flashing in his dark irises.

“Feeling pretty today, Rogers?”

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his muscles tensing; that sounded even worse than he had imagined.

“Huh?”

“Cause you’re gonna promote a new sports collection. You better start posing in front of the mirror to get your head in the game,” he mocked lightly, just as Steve predicted, basking in the horror that overtook Steve’s very being along with utter disbelief.

“What? Why?”

Steve did not enjoy being photographed. It usually involved ‘striking a pose’ or whatever the kids called it these days and once again, strained insincere smiles. Yeah, he was more than alright to take a picture with a fan if they were a kid who looked up to him. But other than that? Ugh.

“Come on! Lighten up, Rogers! It’s for charity!” Tony called out, stepping closer to pat Steve’s bicep. “Uh-huh, firm, good.”

Please let me leave, Steve begged the heavens, unsure if Tony was actually fawning over his muscles – serum-induced and supported by hard work, thank you very much – or if he was mocking Steve again.

“But seriously, it’s for charity that deals with enabling the disabled kids to do sports, any kind that’s possible with their impairment really. From some sort of a football to marathons or archery or whatever. It’s for a good thing.”

Steve felt the tension in his shoulders partly subdue, relaxing a bit. For one, that did sound like a good cause and for two, there was a barely noticeable change in Tony’s voice, just a little waver in his tone, giving away that for all the smirking and nudging and shit-talking, the genius cared for people and had a heart. Having a heart - Tony Stark’s most heavily guarded secret.

Steve sighed, his previously lost appetite returning.

“Alright, Tony. Where, when and what do I need to do?”

The other man patted his bicep again, this time in a truly friendly manner and grinned. “I’ll let Jarvis give you the details. You just try not to screw it up. Seriously, train how to smile in front of a mirror or something. Some poses, whatever. The photographer looks pretty good – not just professionally, if you know what I mean-“

Steve couldn’t help the eyeroll at the remark, one that was followed by Tony’s scandalized insulted gasp as he slowly made his leave, gesturing.

“-so I guess you don’t have to worry… much. Not sure if there will be trunks involved. Or a speedo. So, you know, keep it in your pants and don’t look anywhere I wouldn’t… which isn’t leaving much-“

“Bye, Tony,” Steve called after him, resisting the urge to childishly cover his ears just so he wouldn’t have to listen to the dirty teasing.

“What, it’s a valid concern we don’t want a lawsuit form her--“

“Go before I rattle you out to Pepper,” Steve grunted and at that, the genius grimaced and swiftly disappeared in the doorway.

Steve once again sighed and decided that he might need a bit more carbs in his breakfast than originally planned just so he survived today.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

You weren’t kidding anyone – you were a teeny tiny bit nervous. Your career had been rather colourful, you dipped your fingers in many kinds of photography and you still enjoyed the diversity, the various pictures of beauty – and there was a lot of beauty in the world to be captured – still calling out to you.

You had met famous people before too and you always managed… but Captain America was a whole new level of a challenge. You were feeling equal parts worried and damn lucky for being picked for the job; a job you wouldn’t get a penny for. Shooting a thing like this for charity with a name as great as Steve Rogers, that wasn’t about money – not quick one at least. It was about prestige.  

On the other hand, you would get almost any props you’d think of, within reason, of course – just saying a word was enough. And you had a few, images already painted in your head as you read on Steven Grant Rogers a bit more, got a good look on pictures online, and obviously, saw the collection.

Thinking about it, maybe it was him who should be scared, because excitement was the leading emotion of yours for while now.

You saw him arrive, the chatter about it instantly spreading like fire. And honestly? He did look a bit spooked, so you took the liberty to knock on the room he was provided with, the stylists already in.

“Come in!” sounded from the inside and you took a deep breath, poking your head in – and deciding that entering fully was more polite since you were about to introduce yourself.

“Good afternoon,” you greeted him, only a showing a smidge of nerves on the outside, you hoped.

As you offered your name, the blond man – built like a tank, a very handsome tank, with the sweetest inviting smile and bright eyes – rose from his seat immediately, holding out a hand to shake, introducing himself as well as if it was necessary. It was a nice sentiment, however.

“Please, call me Steve. Something tells me that formalities would only get in the way,” he said with a slight curve to his lips and you felt yourself relax right away. He’d be excellent to work with. Now you really couldn’t wait.

“Then you must call me by my name too. Thank you for suggesting it,” you accepted delightfully, eyeing the pair of stylists you had met before on similar projects; this kind of business was all about knowing the right people. You nodded at them, grinning. “Now, Steve, I have a very important mission for you.”

The captain’s eyebrows jumped at your wording – and at your teasing. You scolded yourself lightly for your choice of words, unwittingly nudging him towards the wrong headspace. You didn’t need a soldier now, quite the opposite.

“Oh?”

“I need you to tell these two lovely people what amount of make-up and what hairstyle you’re comfortable with,” you explained, earning a slightly confused tilt of Steve’s head. “Sure, I have a certain visual in my head, I’m sure they have too.” You exchanged a knowing look with them. “But most of all I need you to feel good.  If you’re pressured into something you hate, we can’t work any magic there.”

Steve nodded in understanding, stiffly, and you had a hunch that he might have been pressured into this whole thing.

“But please don’t leave on us now,” you added quickly and he huffed a short laugh, bittersweet, letting you know that you were correct in your assumption.

“I won’t leave. But thank you for the tip.”

Gosh, he was so polite and had a subtle air of greatness around him (also known as BD energy these days), you could bask in his presence forever – but you had to work.

“All in days’ work. I’ll see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

Your heart skipped an excited beat when a twinkle appeared in his brilliant blue irises and you were done for.

You really hoped your hands wouldn’t shake; you’d hate for the pictures to be blurry.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Once you were in your own kingdom of wonders, all nerves vanished, only child-like giddiness remaining. However, same couldn’t be said about Steve; he entered the space, fidgeting – not too obviously, but visibly enough – eyes flickering all over the room as if he just arrived to a Wonderland indeed.

If you were being honest, such a hunk of a man appearing so endearingly lost… he was kinda adorable.

You felt the corners of your lips automatically rise at your silly thoughts and at the image of him. Besides adorable, he sure looked hot in the white jacket. Who knew sportwear could look so alluring?

“Looking good here, Steve,” you called out as he approached and upon meeting your eyes, he attempted a smile too – little too apprehensive on the edges for you to believe it was honesty and not sheer professional courtesy. “Clothes feel good?”

You could see his expression melt into pure puzzlement at such question, clearly not having expected it.

“Oh… uhm, yes. Thank you.”

“I meant what I said. I need you to be comfortable, Steve,” you reminded him softly, earning a rather frantic nod.

“I… am.”

You could practically hear the unspoken ‘sort of’. Well, it was a work in progress.

“Little steps. Alright, so… I’m gonna be talking a lot. Cut me off whenever I’ll be getting on your nerves too much, okay? We’ll start with this set-up, with this background, obviously. I need to you to just walk to the centre- good, now turn your head to the left—a bit more… perfect.” Not.

Uh-huh. Probably his first time; you should have figured, though a heads-up would be nice. You should have asked dammit. You chewed on your lower lip, gears in your head spinning wildly as you tried to assess him.

Mm.

“What’s your favourite colour?”

His head snapped back to you in surprise and you couldn’t but chuckle, mock-frowning at him. He realized his mistake and quickly looked away, returning to the pose you had attempted to set him into before – his beautiful profile now dusted with pink.

“The colour?” you encouraged him and started taking photos even if you knew you wouldn’t use them, not with his shoulders so stiff and his expression slightly twisted in confusion still – even if he apparently tried to look natural.

“Uhm, blue.”

His face relaxed a fraction and you smiled to yourself.

“More sky-blue or royal blue or something entirely else?” you continued, not at all surprised when a second later you learned that it was sky-blue.

You thought it might be because of his eyes and you wondered; perhaps his eyes were the only thing that hadn’t changed during the serum transformation. His eyes were last straw to grasp at when his whole body suddenly didn’t feel like his.

Or maybe he was moonlighting as an artist, appreciating all kinds of beauty like you did and knew his stuff.

Maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t seen colour so well before his transformation and fell in love with the particular shade upon seeing the sky.

“Mm… ever had the time to appreciate the sight of the ocean? Breath-taking blue on the surface, matching the sky, reflecting the sunrays so sharp that it would make one squint—but you don’t, you can’t. Because damn, it’s so beautiful and you can feel the breeze in your hair, almost flowing between your fingers and you just have to keep your eyes open to commit to memory what it looks like, how it feels, the sand between your toes, the sun warm on your skin…”

You babbled on, your heart fluttering at how damn magnificent Steve looked now, gradually relaxing his posture, his eyes softening, the corners of his mouth subtly raised in a smile, not an artificial one, just a soft curve to his lips as he lost himself in a pleasant memory – or a daydream. You had to remind yourself to press the shutter release; it would be too easy to simply watch the man in front of you coming out of his shell, releasing his light and grace for everyone to see.

“Absolutely wonderful, Steve, thank you. Shall we move on?” you praised him softly and his absurdly long lashes fluttered as if he indeed woke up from a dream. He appeared to be a little lost again, but the smile remained on his lips.

“Of course. Where do you want me, ma’am-- I mean-“

“Oh hush!” you interrupted him rudely with a grin. He was too precious for words, resembling a puppy, all soft and loveable and  yet he was somehow so respectable; you’d have to watch yourself just so you wouldn’t fall in love with him in the short time you were given together. “No ma’am, we’ve been over this. Now…”

You instructed him to walk to the wall of a ‘beach house’, half of the background imitating the very beach you had described; you offered him a different jacket and a cap to hold in his hands, the item serving more than one purpose; one was the campaign, the other was to give him something to do with his hands.

For this picture, you had him looking at you, which made you fidget self-consciously for a change; this time, the story you came up with was to put both of you at ease.

At this point, Steve was an open book to you – or, well, open enough. You had done your reading on him a bit, sure, but now you truly started to see his personality – one of your favourite parts of doing photography coming into play.

“Alright. Posture is great. Now, do you often meet kids?”

Steve wasn’t as surprised at the question anymore, replying calmly, but almost without a thought.

“Yeah. We, uh, we sometimes go to the hospitals to make the patients’ day a bit better? It’s such a small thing to do, I know, for an oncological kid, but they are always delighted. And they are so brave, I feel like a—well, like a sucker compared to them.”

“Weren’t you sickly as a kid?” you questioned lowly and Steve’s gaze dropped as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his expression falling.

“Done your reading, huh?”

“The wonders of 21st century and our educational system. But I’m just bringing it up to make a point. I think that you can see them and that’s why they like you visiting so much. Something tells me that you can truly feel what they feel and they sense it – kids can be ridiculously intuitive. Maybe you share, I don’t know of course, but I think that somehow they just know and they see a fellow warrior who beat all the illnesses too. And they look up to you, because you give them hope. And not just sick kids. I bet you met a few kids claiming you’re their favourite superhero just because you have a frisbee.”

He chuckled at that and nodded, but you could see that what you had said before the funny bit touched him and it had been that part that had the desired effect – to pull him back where you wanted him, relaxed and positive.

“Okay, that’s fair.”

“You’re not everyone’s hero for nothing, Steve, you’ve done some pretty heroic stuff to begin with. But I think it’s what behind the shield that some people find even more inspiring. Be proud of that too.”

The perfect shot was taken and you couldn’t but recall the quote I once saw a man so beautiful I started crying, because yeah, you could weep now. You quickly stood up and took few more pictures, because it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on.

“And look at you, turning into a model so easily when it comes to helping people, again,” you teased him lightly while being nothing but honest.

As at ease as he appeared now, you’d think he was doing this on a regular basis. As if you hadn’t been trying to coax out his true self out for everyone to see in a simple photo just a few minutes ago.

His hands found their way into the pockets of temporarily his jacket, gaze falling to the floor before his eyes locked onto yours, grateful and gentle.

“I’m pretty sure that’s all you. Thank you for being so patient with me. I thought this would remind me of the old days when I-” He hesitated, blue eyes lightly misted with doubt, so you beckoned for him to continue to speak freely. You’d got into some pretty deep stuff yourself just a moment ago after all. “-when I was a lab experiment to show off.”

You nodded in understanding, even if you couldn’t imagine what was it like; then again, in your early days, you had met enough parents who came to your atelier to show off their trophy children, so this wasn’t exactly a foreign concept.  

“Well, for what it’s worth, I’m sure that however you hated doing it, you were giving people hope back then too. And it’s not right to reduce person to a symbol, but symbols were and are important. As long as there are people who are able to see beyond the simplification, then I think it’s worth it. Then again, I never was anyone’s dancing monkey, so…” you shrugged, internally cringing at being such a blabbermouth, afraid that you came too far, put Steve off and that he would withdraw back to his shell.

But he didn’t. He gifted you a brilliant smile, one reaching his eyes.

“And all this?” you hummed, vaguely gesturing around, hoping he’d catch on. “I’m glad if you like the way I work, but the pictures? That’s not me, Steve, that’s you. And all I hope for is to show people a little bit more of you, throwing away the shield and letting them see that Steve Rogers is just as radiant.”

The intensity of his gaze now was enough to make your heart stop beating, his expression suddenly unreadable and you quickly covered your mouth, an apology already spilling from your lips.

“I’m so sorry if this made you uncomfortable and I turned into one of the fawning fangirls, that wasn’t my intention. You have to stop me when I get too much-“

“You’re didn’t and you don’t,” he smiled kindly and shook his head, appearing genuine. “I just never met anyone like you. And I mean that in the good way, just to be clear.”

You felt your face burn; because of your TMI talk and his compliment.

“T-thank you,” you stuttered out, causing his smile to turn radiant indeed.

He kept watching you, silent, eyes roaming your face, irises blue and intense—when had he got so close? Or did you walk to him? He was positively prettier upon closer inspection, all sharp edges to his jaw, lips calling out with how damn soft they would be, not to even mention his hair, and oh, was that a drop of green in his eyes? Oh wow, you could drown in that single drop, surrounded by the most enticing shade of blue and--- you closed your eyes and cleared your throat, trying your best to ignore the tingle in your fingertips and in your gut, pleasant warmth in your core-

“We, uhm, we should probably go back to work,” you whispered, licking your lips as you once again glanced at his and you swiftly spun on your heels, desperately trying to remember what shots you wanted to take next and if it was time for him to change already- oh god, you couldn’t possibly handle the thought of him losing clothes…

His expression dimmed a fraction, an epitome of slipping back into politeness. “Of course. Tell me how you need me… ma’am,” he teased, subtle quirk to his lips and you felt your cheeks burn hotter— but your breathing got easier as he was letting you know that you were still alright.

You had a half-mind to call him a soldier in the same manner, but you didn’t want him to slip into that persona.

“Oh, you have no idea what you signed up for, Steven.”

He chuckled, but followed you as you walked to the next scenery.

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

“What the hell, Rogers?!”

Tony’s voice reached Steve’s ears just as he entered the kitchen after his morning run and shower, his heart skipping a beat, his whole body instantly on alert; he wanted nothing but to spin on his heels and walk right back to where he came from.

Why?

You see, living in the Avengers Tower meant spending extended periods of time in Tony Stark’s company. Spending extended periods of time in Tony’s company meant that one would learn how to recognize certain situations; Steve could easily tell when the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist had pulled an all-nighter in his lab, when he was in a long-term fight with Pepper, when he was annoyed, when he was delighted.

And this right here, the ‘What the hell, Rogers?’, that meant nothing good – certainly not for the guy in question. Tony seemed awfully exasperated and perplexed at some of Steve’s past actions probably, and that usually meant a lot of uncomfortable questions coming his way.

God help him.

Yet, he sighed and walked in, preferring to face his fate right away and go about his day as soon as possible.

“What did I do?”

“Jarvis, if you could, please,” Tony requested with a solemn expression, one of his thin holographic devices lighting up on the counter and instantly projecting several floating images as Steve walked closer.

Steve’s lips parted in surprise, shocked ‘oh’ escaping them as his heart was sent into frenzy.

Twenty images in total, photos of a blond man of Steve’s own body-built, clad in sportswear posing in every single one of them. His face was familiar too and yet somehow foreign; surely these couldn’t be real. There was no way Steve looked so confident and almost proud in some pictures, but mainly, appearing so comfortable in his skin.

Steve’s mind raced as he tried to associate the model with his own person and yet—he couldn’t but feel rather satisfied. Because this was most definitely him. And the photos were… well, not bad at all. Simultaneously, while his chest puffed with pride he desperately attempted not to let go into his head, he remembered precisely how these photos came to existence and who should totally take the credit here.

“That’s all you gonna say?! Oh?” Tony demanded, gesturing around the holograms as if these were corpus delicti of a serious offence and Steve was once again reminded of what Tony Stark was not; a patient man.

Steve felt a smile creep onto his lips as he shrugged.

“Oh, he says. You’re asking me what did you do?! THIS! If I knew you were a damn runaway model, I would have expected less fun than I did when imaging seeing you squirm! Look at this! These are way too good!”

Steve couldn’t disagree, mildly amused at Tony’s antics. In fact, he really was ridiculously content with the results of something he had dreaded and couldn’t have even hoped to turn out like this.

“…is that a bad thing?” he couldn’t but mock, earning an exasperated huff… and a smirk.

“Well… not, I guess. My little black heart is just… disappointed.”

Ah, yes. The heavily guarded secret – Tony Stark did have a heart and contrary to popular opinion, it was not little or black.

“No, it’s not.”

“Hush!” Tony shushed him, a twinkle appearing in his eye, amusement mixing with satisfaction. “But seriously. What the hell? Since when do you… pose? Like this? Like… wow.”

“Careful there, Stark, you’ll make him blush,” Natasha hummed as she entered the communal kitchen, checking out the flowing pictures with interest and a curve to her lips. “These are pretty great. You did well, Rogers.”

And all of sudden, Steve couldn’t handle the praise anymore; it had been fun with Tony, but now when Natasha joined in, swiftly followed by a wolf-whistle from Sam at her heels…  it felt wrong to brag about this, it wasn’t fair – he wasn’t the one who deserved to be given the majority of the merit.

“It’s… it wasn’t me, really…“ he admitted sheepishly.

And it wasn’t. It was all you.

Looking at the photos, he could tell what you were talking about when you pressed the shutter release for every single one of them. Painting the vivid image of the ocean just with your words. Calling him a hero in a way no one ever had. Pleading him to be proud of what he had accomplished. Making him feel those things, causing him to gradually gain confidence, feeling good in his own skin even when being at the centre of attention, encouraging him to suggest a pose on his own. Hell, Steve might go as far as to say that he had been having fun.

But it was all you.

“Looks a lot like you, man,” Sam chuckled and Steve would have shot him an annoyed glare hadn’t he been so embarrassed and self-conscious to admit who was to blame for the pictures turning out so great.

Because… yeah, Steve wasn’t vain or tried not to be, but these were pretty swell. You were a magician, you had to be. And he had fallen straight into the trap of your charms.

“Har har… the photographer was amazing. She made me feel-” He didn’t even know how to describe it without making himself look like a complete fool… for you. “-great. She was really supportive the whole time, sometimes even making me forget she was taking shots.”

“Alert!” Tony cried out all of sudden, nearly causing Steve to jump out of his skin. “I sense romance! How’s Cap heart, Jarvis? Has the security been breached? Should we run some scans-”

“Shut up, Tony,” Steve huffed in irritation, attempting to hide how precisely the billionaire hit the nail on its head.

“Awww, now he is blushing,” Natasha teased and Steve felt the heat in his cheeks burn.

“Well, luckily for him, there was a business card along with the printed photos that arrived this morning.”

Steve’s head immediately snapped Tony’s direction, curious and excited. You left a business card? That was—it probably didn’t mean anything along the lines he wished, but still!

The billionaire held out the simple creamy-coloured item between two fingers, but quickly snatched it away when Steve reached for it. Steve shot him a murderous glare. Dammit man-child!

“Full story or you’re not getting any, pun intended.”

“Oh, go to hell, Stark-”

“Come on, Stark. We all know he has some work ethics unlike you. Let him start a thing before you interrogate him. Plus, if he’s got a phone number from a hot girl for the free work he did, good for him. Give him the card,” Natasha supported the poor blond and Tony rolled his eyes before shooting the Widow a look of betrayal. Sam just chuckled at their antics. Steve snatched the card before they could change their mind, while Natasha smiled behind her cup. “We expect a full report later though.”

She exchanged a high-five with Sam under the bar, but Steve was too busy examining the card and having his heart beating incredibly fast to feel exasperated at his childish friends.

As he flipped the card in his fingers, he felt a wide smile spread his lips at their own accord.

If you ever need another photoshoot or anything at all, don’t hesitate to call. xxx

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

S.R. masterlist

⊱⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷*✧⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⊰

Thank you for reading :-*

Link to the inspiration post will be in reblog!

What can I say to my defence? I just really like making Steve happy, okay?

And yeah, the 2016 FILA is perfect too, but this fic is a result of a suggestion of a friend and babyface CE is more Steve, what can I say…

[anobscurename]

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART X — masterlist

concept: you and chris attend a last minute vegas wedding of his close, personal friend. may contain a majority of the cast of the avengers. the slowest of slow burns. part eleven of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 5,3k

warnings: angst, jealousy, really sappy romance shit

author's note: here's a long one to make up for the fact that i didn't upload all of yesterday :) this one really messed me up, please let me know what you think :)

Chris Evans wore rejection exceptionally well.

When he returned from New York, it was like nothing had happened, nothing had changed – and you didn't know how to feel about that. A big part of you was relieved that things had returned to normal almost instantaneously. But a small, dark part of you – hidden very well in the recesses of your mind – had wanted him to be as hurt as you still were.

But there he was, bursting into your room, smile on his face.

You hadn't woken up yet, but the sound of the door being flung open had you springing up and already had a pillow clutched in your hand, ready for an attack – which you received, but not from who you'd expect.

Dodger, hot on Chris' heels, leapt onto you with a happy yowl and began the vigorous task of slobbering the ever loving shit out of you. You attempted to push him away, fighting to get the pillow between you to prevent getting drenched by dog saliva. But you were sluggish and Dodger was not, easily manoeuvring around you to attack once more.

Fighting a fit of laughter, you peered around your pillow at Chris. He stood in the doorway, hands in pockets, grinning stupidly.

"Christopher, get your attack dog off of me!"

He chuckled. "Get out of bed!"

You groaned. "It's a Saturday, Chris. I'm allowed to sleep in."

"Not today. Come on, get up!" He clapped. "We have a big day ahead of us."

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's got you so chipper?"

"Two things," he said, making his way to you. He promptly threw the covers off of you, causing you to yelp and tuck your bare legs to your chest. "Hey, didn't we discuss more pants being worn around the house...?"

"Two. Things?" You ground out the prompt from behind grit teeth. Dodger pawed at your legs.

"One, I got the part."

You beamed, irritation dissipating. "That's great! I'm really proud of you, Evans."

He smiled briefly, before hollowing his cheeks and letting out a singular piercing whistle. You winced, but Dodger immediately stopped his antics and returned to Chris' side, bounding happily alongside him as they both moved to exit.

"And? What's the second thing?" You called out to him.

"Pack your things, wear something nice. We're going to Vegas, baby."

———————

"Vegas?!" You had immediately hopped out of bed at the very casual name drop. "As in Las Vegas?"

"Of course," Chris shrugged, pouring some freshly brewed coffee into his favourite mug. It was one he'd stolen from the set of Knives Out; you were well acquainted with it.

"May I ask why?"

"We're going to a wedding."

"A wedding?!" Your voice was shrill. You were becoming increasingly more annoyed with how non-chalant he was being, answering your questions with the bare minimum.

"Well, it's more of a renewal of vows. They've been married for a while."

"Can I ask who?"

"Oh, man," he groaned inwardly. "Why do you insist on ruining every single surprise? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Christopher."

"He's a good friend of mine, you may know him. It was a very spur-of-the-moment thing. You're my plus one, so please," he tossed you a discarded sweater you had left over the back of a nearby chair, "start packing. It's a four hour drive, maybe less if there's no traffic."

In a last ditch effort to let him know how crazy this all sounded, you gestured to Dodger, who was happily gnawing at his favourite toothmarked chew toy. "What about Dodge?"

"He's coming with us. Obviously."

And that was all he was willing to tell you. Your efforts to pry more information was met with hums and long, eye contact charged sips of coffee, and the occasional knowing cheeky smile.

Eventually, you gave up. "Fine," you huffed. "I'll go pack."

———————

When you'd first seen the car, you had to do a double take.

Chris was not a flashy person, but this car – was there any other word for it other than flashy?

"It's just a rental," Chris chuckled at your expression, strutting past you with a duffel bag in hand. He was being... strange, somehow. Something wasn't quite right, but he seemed fine, so you followed him to the sleek cranberry red convertible parked in the driveway. "I thought to myself: if we're going to Vegas, we're going to do it right."

He tossed the bag into the back, taking care to not hit Dodger who was already happily seated. He helped you with yours, before holding your door open for you.

The sun had already warmed the seats, and while you clicked the seatbelt in, Chris all but parkoured into the car.

His strong limbs moved easily, muscles flexing as he hoisted him up and over the door. The car bounced slightly when he landed, key already inching towards the ignition.

"You know, they put doors on the car for a reason," you said, digging in your bag for your sunglasses. If you were to be sat in that car for four hours, baking in the sun, you'd surely need them. You could already feel your arms, bare in the tank top you'd favoured in the Californian heat, heating up in spite of the sunscreen you'd slathered yourself in.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Chris had had a permanent smile on his face, ever since he'd all but kicked your door down to drag you to Vegas.

"What's going on with you?"

He seemed almost taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"You're being... weird."

"You're being weird," he retorted, somewhat childishly. In spite of having your eyes hidden, he didn't miss your eye roll. Propping his hand on your headrest, he turned to look at Dodger, who was happily panting in the backseat, tucked between the bags. "Everybody strapped in?"

Dodger barked in response, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Brilliant."

The car turned over smoothly, engine roaring to life, and as you ripped down the driveway, Chris whooped.

He turned to you, the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. "Vegas, baby!"

———————

With the wind in your hair, any chill being quickly chased away by the heat of the sun, you found yourself smiling. You tore across Interstate 15, now in the open span of the desert.

Chris' excitement was infectious. Any conversation attempts were immediately drowned out, so you had settled on a playlist. Wailing at the top of your lungs, you sang along to many a Disney and Queen song you had playing through the aux chord, volume cranked to the maximum to be heard over the roar of road and engine.

Dodger – tongue waving happily in the wind – sometimes howled along. Being there, sat next to Chris in the open air, you felt carefree. There was only you, and him, and Dodger, and the ease of the roadtrip.

Chris reached over to adjust the rearview mirror, managing to catch your reflection in it. He paused, eyes darting between you and the road.

Your head was thrown back, lips stretched into a smile while you belted along to the third replay of Bohemian Rhapsody, hair tossed to the wind. The sight was enough to make his heart dissolve.

"Eyes on the road!" You laughed, yelling at him as the car began it's slight tilt into the other lane.

Quickly pulling the vehicle back on track, laugh strained, Chris fixed the rearview again to have eyes on Dodger – who seemed entirely unconcerned with the troubles of his owner.

"You hungry?" You fought to be heard over the music and whistling wind.

He leaned closer to you, now absorbed entirely with the road. "What?!"

"Are you hungry?!"

He shrugged, pulling himself back into his seat. "I could eat!"

You'd stopped at a gas station earlier, and had managed to gather some supplies for the long drive ahead. From the grocery bag at your feet, you pulled out Chris' sandwich, managing to tear open the packaging out of the wind's reach.

You held it out to him, but instead of taking it from you like you intended, he ducked his head and took a monstrous bite, teeth lightly grazing your fingertips.

The shiver that ran down your spine was immediately overcome when he pulled away – only for the slice of ham to follow him back up. It hung from his lips, flapping in the wind, slapping at his face.

He was grinning when he turned to look at you, sunglasses having fallen slightly down the bridge of his nose to reveal his eyes. They were alive with humour and so blue in the sunlight. His mouth was full of sandwich and ham when he flashed his pearly whites, and, with expert movement and tongue work, he scooped the ham into his mouth. He moaned in mock ecstasy.

"You're such a dork!" You shouted over the wind, once you'd overcome the hysterics and he'd finished his mouthful of ham.

"I'm so what?" He yelled back, feigning haven't heard you. "Sexy?! My God, you're right!"

In your distraction, Dodger had snatched the sandwich from your hand, earning him shocked gasps from both of you.

"Dodger!" You scolded, but the sandwich was done by the time you whirled around to look at him. He barked, content, and licked a wet stripe to your face.

"Yeah, that's right, bud! You tell her!"

———————

You slowed down once you reached the city limits of Vegas to take in the sights. Not that there was much to see.

The glitz and glam so often portrayed on the silver screen was replaced by a seediness that you simply could not reconcile with all that you had been expecting. Hollywood really had the audacity to lie to you like that, you supposed.

It almost made you wonder who would want to have their wedding here. But there was also a charm to it, if you didn't look too closely.

Several Elvises (Elvi?) were sharing a cigarette outside a club, while showgirls strutted down the gum caked sidewalks, feathers ruffling in the breeze and the sway of their ten inch heels.

They waved when you drove past, and Dodger gave them a thrilled yap. He had never seen something that big with feathers before, and you almost had to grab his collar before he chased them down.

After seeing so many multithemed casinos – especially the closer you got to the city center – that it became monotonous, your illusion of glitz and glamour was restored when Chris pulled the car up outside the Bellagio.

"You're kidding," you breathed.

He chuckled. "Not good enough?"

"Too good enough," you practically stuttered.

Chris shut the engine off before clambering out of the car, thankfully using the door this time. He stretched, muscles stiff from the long ride.

"Everyone at the wedding is staying here. The reception's going to be held in the ballroom, but if you don't want to..."

"No!" You said quickly. And then, softer: "I'd love to stay here, I'm just... trying to... you know?"

All you could do was gesture aimlessly, but Chris did know. There was a time once where lavish hotels and spontaneous trips across the country were very new to him.

"Well, good," he said while handing the keys over to the valet, slipping him a good tip and a grateful smile. That smile stayed, changing into something softer and more genuine when he turned back to you. "Because the reservation is already booked and it'll be a bitch cancelling it now."

He helped you out of the car, your legs shaky from both sitting for so long and the delight of getting the chance to spend the night at the freaking Grand Bellagio Hotel & Casino.

Once he was certain you weren't going to keel over, he put the seat forward to let a very excited Dodger out. Obedient as always, Dodger remained by Chris' side as he retrieved the bags.

Giving a friendly wave to the valet – arm barely weighed down by the duffel bag curled in his hand – Chris led you and Dodge into the foyer.

Inside was just as beautiful as the outside, if not more. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, taking in the opulence it was furnished in. You felt out of place, standing there, road weary in your rumpled denim shorts and spaghetti strap tank. Especially when you caught sight of it – the trademark Bellagio fountain. Water climbed the sky, only to fall back down in a heavy shower, sparkling in the hotel lights. It was magnificent and you were suddenly feeling so small, so–

"Afternoon, ma'am. Reservation under the name Evans?"

Chris' low voice practically boomed in the quiet of the front desk, breaking the spell. It unnerved you how hyper aware you were of his every action.

The process of checking in was mundane, but soon, key cards in hand, Chris was guiding you towards the elevator, Dodger in tow. You didn't know whether to be relieved or crestfallen that Chris had booked separate rooms – still conjoining, for Dodger's benefit. You decided you were relieved. It was much easier to puzzle through relief than to dwell on the pain in your chest.

Against Chris' insistence, a bellboy took your bags for you. And it was while you were waiting for the elevator that you met the groom.

"Well, I'll be damned," you heard a familiar voice say. Not familiar because you knew it personally, but familiar because you had heard it many times before, often while seated in a cinema seat. "Christopher Evans, as I live and breathe."

"Always with the theatrics, Downey," Chris grinned. They hugged, clapping each other on the backs.

Robert wore a large smile and an incredibly well tailored suit.

Dodger let out a deafening bark, tail blurring in the speed of his wag. He practically pounced on the man, causing Robert to laugh, petting him. "Easy, boy." Absentmindedly, but no less sincere, Robert continued, hands buried in Dodger's fur while he addressed the two of you. "I'm so glad you could make it. I know it was a very last minute, spur of the moment type thing. It really means a lot."

"Who else is here?"

Robert straightened, brushing some dog hair off his sleeve. "Hemsworth was stuck in Australia, but that was fine, given the short notice. Tom also couldn't find a flight–"

"Holland or Hiddleston?"

"Hiddleston. We managed to get the kid. Thankfully he had been filming in L.A. for the past few months. I couldn't imagine this day without him..."

And then he saw you.

You had thought you had run your capacity for getting starstruck well and truly into the ground, and it was only typical of Robert Downey Jr. to prove you wrong. You stood there, speechless, mouth agape.

"Holy shit," you whispered when you finally found your voice again.

You hoped he hadn't heard you, but he had, and, tipping his sunglasses down to take you in, he beamed. "And who do we have here?"

"Robert, this is–"

"{Your full name}. It's so lovely to meet you," you gushed, fervently shaking his extended hand. "Really, it's an honour. I love you 3000. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I just can't believe it's you. I'm sorry, I'm going to let go of your hand now."

Robert smirked at your enthused outburst. He glanced at Chris. "Where did you find this one?"

"It's not like that, Rob. She's just a friend."

Attention back to you, Robert pushed his glasses back up with one practiced finger. "Well, just a friend. It's great to have you here, celebrating this day with Susan and I. I like the whole... 80's vibe you have going on. You're really taking this revival seriously."

Your confusion was shortlived.

As soon as you and Chris had said goodbye to Robert to shower the roadtrip away and get ready for the wedding, you caught your reflection in the elevator mirror.

And... to put it mildly, it was a sight to behold. You instantly knew what he had meant by "80's vibe."

Your hair was a mess, tousled and wind swept to rest atop your head at new voluminous heights. Your sunglasses – which you hadn't given much thought to, having slid them up and out of your eyes – were tangled lopsidedly in a precarious perch.

You looked insane. You had met Robert Downey Jr. while looking like an inmate at Arkham, and the cold slither of mortification overcame you.

"How. Could. You. Not. Tell. Me?!" You punctuated every word with a slap to Chris' muscle bound arm, and although they were light and didn't hurt, he shied away from you all while chuckling smugly. "How could you not tell me?!"

He kept his eyes on the screen displaying number of floors you flew past as he shrugged. "I didn't see anything wrong."

"What do you mean, Chris?! Look at me! I have Farah Fawcett hair!" You gestured wildly at the birdsnest.

He did as you requested, and turned to you. "You look beautiful," he said simply. "I didn't see anything wrong."

———————

The ceremony took place at A Little White Chapel – a little over a ten minute drive away from the Bellagio – and was nothing short of sweet.

You had felt a little self conscious, wearing the baby blue summer dress you had found sitting in the back of your closet untouched for a little over six months. Chris could sense you apprehension.

You had been picking at a tiny loose thread in the hem of the skirt when he leaned down to you.

"How many times do I have to say it?" He sighed, reassurance tinted in his voice. "You look fine."

You gave him a small smile. "Maybe just once more?"

"You look–"

And then he was practically knocked over by the barrelling tackle hug Anthony greeted him with. Breath knocked out of him, Chris grinned as he hugged Anthony back.

"There she is," Mackie opened his arms to you too once him and Chris broke apart and Chris turned to greet Sebastian who had been standing back, hands in his pockets, watching the sneak attack in amusement.

You giggled, hugging him tightly. "How've you been?"

"Oh, you know," he shrugged. He moved back slightly for you to give Sebastian an affectionate greeting kiss on the cheek. "Same old, same old. Work, work, work. Almost pulled my arm out of its socket throwing that shield. How the hell did you manage to do that for so long, Chris?"

The kiss did not go unnoticed to Chris. He was staring at you intently, eyes stormy, before being snapped out of it by Anthony. Storm subsiding, he smiled easily. "You just gotta work for it harder, I guess."

"Oh, is that right?" Anthony arched his brow, and soon they were play wrestling in their expensive suits.

"Should we break them up?"

"Nah," Sebastian waved your suggestion off. "Let them fight it out." He caught sight of someone and sucked in a sharp breath, eyes twinkling in glee. "Or better yet..."

"Boys, boys," a voice lilted out, mock scorn laced into the words. It was husky yet feminine, an exotic but distinct combination. "Where are your manners? We're at a wedding."

The boys instantly broke apart to see Scarlett approach. She was frowning in mock disappointment... but that quickly dissolved. She grinned, throwing her arms around them.

You couldn't believe it. It was a whole Avengers reunion.

"And you must be {your name}."

You returned her smile, holding out your hand to shake. She disregarded it, instead opting to give you the same treatment she gave her friends. Your heart warmed.

"I've heard so much about you," she said while you hugged.

"Only good things, I hope," you muttered shyly.

"Only the best. The boys won't shut up about you. Heard you turned a few heads at Vulpecula the other night," she winked. "Hope you're giving this one a hard time. He needs it every now and then."

The person in question arched a teasing – if not inquisitive – brow. "Don't be giving her any ideas. It's hard enough as is."

The double entendre was caught by everyone in your little reunion circle, and Chris' face flushed. "What I meant was–"

"Oh, we know what you meant," Anthony winked.

Something caught Sebastian's attention. Or rather, someone. He tapped Anthony on the shoulder, never peeling his gaze away from the new arrival. "Eyes up. Holland just entered the building."

Sure enough, Tom Holland had just arrived, Elizabeth Olsen at his side listening intently to everything he was saying. By the looks of it, they were catching up.

"You got the juice box ready?" Anthony asked.

Sebastian opened his blazer to display a juice box seated comfortably in the inner breast pocket. "Locked and loaded, baby."

"Let's go torment the kid."

And they were off, half hearted goodbyes mumbled upon their exit.

Their voices were inaudible, but from what you could tell, they were teasing Tom, offering him the children's beverage. He was taking it exceptionally well, laughing it off, while Lizzie said hello to the duo.

"The funny thing about them is that they're more like kids than Tom is," Scarlett mused, watching the scene play out.

"No, the funny thing is, is that I was ready to fight Sebastian for that juice box," you murmured under your breath.

That earned you a soft chortle from Scarlett, and something close to pride bloomed in your chest.

"Oh, I see Mark! I better go say hi before I miss him again. He keeps getting pulled into conversations and I can never get a word in." Scarlett slid easily past, but not before turning to say goodbye. "You two, grab some seats, I'll try and join you in a bit. If I don't catch you again, I'll see you at the reception..."

And then she disappeared, the only sign she'd ever been there was the trace of expensive perfume and a glimpse of her red dress and golden hair.

"I love her."

Chris bellowed out a laugh at your honesty, the completely earnest look in your eyes. "Yeah, Scarlett's great. One of my closest friends."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" The new voice was the one you had encountered before – the one that had you self consciously checking your hair.

Chris ducked down once again, finishing his previously cut off reassurance in your ear. "You look fine."

Robert handed you a champagne flute each, ones he had plucked from a passing waiter's tray. "Because if so, it's working."

"I only have eyes for you, Downey," Chris raised his glass to Robert in subtle cheers. "You know that."

"I'm spoken for," Robert gasped, scandalized. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered: "But just say the word, I'll cancel the wedding and we can elope."

"I doubt Susan would appreciate that."

Robert waved off Chris' weak protest. "We've been married fifteen years today, I think she's sick of me by now. Christopher Downey. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Robert Evans," you challenged.

"Perfect," Robert grinned. "It's settled. I'll bring the car around, we'll run away together. {Your name}, you'll officiate and we'll all live happily ever after. Agreed?"

He stuck his hand out for Chris to shake. Having to switch his glass to a different hand to grasp Robert's, Chris pulled Robert closer to him. Concern creased his brow. "But seriously, Robert. How are you feeling?"

The sincerity in which he looked at Chris in that moment, he could say anything and you'd believe it. But his answer was so simple. "I've never been happier a day in my life. I love her. Always have, always will."

And judging by the way he looked at her when she came down the aisle, you knew it was true. He was glowing, gazing at her like the very first time he had married her.

He looked at her the way an immortal would describe Galileo's first look to the Milky Way.

And if you hadn't been so entranced by the splendour of it all, that look that Robert had would seem familiar. Because right beside you, Chris was looking at you.

He was looking at you in that exact same way.

———————

"Is that Mel Gibson? Is that Mel Gibson. Christopher Robert Evans, you tell me right now: is that Mel Gibson? Is that Mel Gibson I see before me? Pinch me. Holy fucking shit it is motherfucking Mel Gibson. I'm in the same room as Braveheart."

Chris was watching you with complete adoration, a dopey smile on his face.

This had been going on for a while – it was so strange for you to be in a room of familiar faces you'd never met before, and although you'd served many a drink to the famous, it was one night at a time and there was at least a quick escape to the break room should you require a moment to gather yourself. You felt almost... naked in this room full of familiar strangers.

"You should go say hi."

"To Mel Gibson?" You blanched.

"Yeah, why not?"

"It's Mel Gibson," you said flatly, as if that was the answer to all the questions anyone had ever asked in the universe, ever.

"Okay, first, he's just Mel. You don't have to keep saying his full name." Chris handed you a wine glass. He continued as he poured some wine into it from one of the reception tables in the ballroom. "And second, Mel's great. We've had dinner together at Downey's a few times. Go," he pushed you gently towards where Gibson stood. "It'll be fine."

You threw back the wine and took one step forward, before immediately backtracking. "NononoIcan't–"

And then Chris had his arm around your shoulders guiding you over to where Mel stood, intent on giving you an introduction. "Yes, you can," he cajoled, trying his very hardest not to snigger at your mood swings.

"Look how cute they are," Anthony sighed.

Sebastian groaned. "Stop it."

"You're just upset because I'm going to win."

"There's nothing to–" Seb cut off, having spotted Holland at the bar. "Minor alert. Shall we?"

"Fuck yes, we shall."

———————

You had been speaking to Mel Gibson for a little over an hour at that point.

After the introduction, Chris had left you to your devices, going around the reception dinner and saying hi to everyone he knew, shaking hands with people he didn't.

And when he returned to where he had left you, he didn't know whether to be surprised or not to find you still there.

Mel found you quite entertaining once you'd surpassed the initial fangirling. You were so young and full of life. He listened to your babbling, interjecting when appropriate and imparting little hints of wisdom, here and there. And that's how you'd stayed, for an hour at least.

"{Your name}, can I borrow you for a minute?" Chris' voice was soft, polite. Giving you every opportunity to say no.

In spite of how entertained Mel was by you, once Chris had arrived, he'd already started looking for a different conversation partner. It wasn't something you took offense to – it was a wedding, after all, with so many people around. You couldn't hog all of his time. So you excused yourself from him, thanking him, before hooking your arm in Chris'.

You'd expected him to lead you back to the table, but you were surprised to find yourself being led to the dancefloor instead.

It was the first dance.

Robert, dapper in his suit, led a splendid Susan onto the floor, and the gathering crowd clapped and cheered. The violins and piano were struck, and the married couple began their hypnotic waltz.

"No need to thank me just yet," Chris murmured into your hair, eyes on the couple gliding across the floor.

Not wanting to disrupt the spell the dance had cast, you were slow in your response. "Thank you for what?"

"You looked like you needed saving." With every word, you could feel his hot breath fanning your hair, and those goddamn goosebumps were back.

"If anything, it was Mel who needed saving."

The waltz came to an end with a passionate kiss, and then the dancefloor was open to everyone.

"This one goes out to Robert and Susan," you heard a woman – Scarlett – say into the microphone. She had made her way on stage, and was looking at the renewly weds with unadulterated affection. "They begged and begged me to sing here tonight, and I finally agreed. As long as I was allowed to pick the song. So here is Let Me Love You Like A Woman, originally performed by Lana Del Rey."

"We couldn't get Lana!" Robert yelled from his seat at the table. The guests laughed, and you even found yourself giggling a little.

"Fuck you, Downey," Scarlett chuckled.

The band struck up the opening chords to the slow, beautifully peaceful melody. Without hesitation, Chris pulled you to the dancefloor, and turned to capture you in his arms. His hand rested against the small of your back – so perfectly fitting into the natural bow of your spine, it was like he was made to hold you like this – his other holding yours to his chest.

"Were you jealous?" He could see you were joking, he could see it in your eyes.

"Of Mel?" Chris scoffed. "No."

You continued your slow dance, relishing in the feel of having Chris close to you again, his body firm against yours, warming you through to your core. Your head rested on his chest, eyes closed, letting Scarlett's voice lull you into a gentle rythym. Her voice was so calming, that when Chris spoke, you had nearly forgotten where you were.

"But of Sebastian? Yes."

You could hear how hard it was for him to admit, the strain in his voice near palpable. But the surprise the admission drew from you caused you to shoot your head up to look at him incredulously. You could almost think he was joking, how ridiculous it sounded, but one look at his face and you knew he wasn't.

"Sebastian?" You repeated in disbelief. "Sebastian Stan?"

"I saw you kiss him."

He sounded so crushed, you found yourself hurting.

"That was nothing. That was a hello."

His next words were harsh, a subdued rage in the depths of the blue of his eyes. "Maybe the next time you feel nothing for a person, don't kiss them," he bit out. It was like he had been hoarding all the pain and resentment he had felt, and it finally spilled forth. "It sends the wrong message."

And then he was gone, ripping away from you, cold air filling the empty vacuum where he once stood.

———————

"I saw you and Chris out there, you looked..."

Anthony had been speaking while approaching you, but as soon as he saw your face, his tone changed. "Hey... Hey, what's wrong?"

You were sitting at your table, head propped in your hand, trying hard to mask your misery, but ultimately failing.

"It's that obvious, huh?" You sniffled.

Anthony dropped into the chair beside you – the seating arrangement proclaiming it belonging to Chris Evans – and immediately pulled you into his arms.

You looked a little like a mess, eyes watering enough to smudge your mascara, but you didn't cry. To be frank, you were incapable of crying. You were too confused to cry.

"Please tell me you're like this because of the wonderful union between Robert and Susan Downey, and not because of something Chris did."

You laughed softly into Anthony's shoulder before withdrawing. "I just... I don't know what happened."

"Walk me through it."

"He was... He was so happy earlier. Which I found strange, of course, because he was being too happy. I'd never seen him like that, even when he really was happy. It was like he was fake happy. And we were fine. We were..."

"Happy?" Anthony suggested when you trailed off.

"Exactly," you took a deep gulp of wine. "But then, now, on the dancefloor..."

One read of your face, and Anthony guessed what happened. And he didn't press further, instead offering you the only explanation he could. As Chris' friend. As yours, too.

"We are in the profession of pretense, {your name}. We're wonderful liars when we need to be, especially to ourselves. And the thing about Chris... Well, he can't lie to himself for very long."