#I silently screamed cause I don’t want anyone thinking I lost my mind (I in fact did)

[kavehater]

I CANT BELEIEVE IT OH MY GOD DJSIAOAKAKAK

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER TWO: Imposter Syndrome

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You've been trying your hardest to focus on your work, but there is something else that is bothering you. Claire decides to give you a call and check up on you. It seems like both of you are keeping secrets of your own, and then there is this handsome lawyer who refuses to leave your mind after he quite literally burst your little bubble of solitude...

Warnings for this chapter: Slight angst, mentions of domestic violence, Reader's POV, use of reader's fake name

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: It took me a few tries to finish this chapter because I couldn't, for the life of me, settle on a plot, but I think I've got it figured out now. I didn't do the classic "this scene from another POV", I switched it up a bit, so what happened in chapter one isn't repeated word for word. I think it flows better like this. I hope you guys like it, and thank you for your support so far! I really appreciate it.

Read Chapter 2: Imposter Syndrome on AO3.

The human body holds up to six liters of blood. Without saline or a blood transfusion, losing more than two liters can be fatal—and every drop lost after that decreases your chance of survival. A paper cut won’t kill you, but a gunshot wound might. It’s a simple equation that doesn’t require a medical degree to solve. 

If the human body experiences trauma though, everything is on the line. A nicked vessel or artery can lead to a bloodbath. Trauma to any of the major organs can lead to internal bleeding and cause the body to suffer fatal consequences. You could lose too much blood too fast, or the blood could travel to your brain, and you could herniate. 

Depending on the place of injury, trauma can lead to a large number of complications that are therefore a threat to life. But it’s not just blood that the human body needs to survive; oxygen is another vital player in the game against time. Without it, the brain dies, and if the brain is dead, there is nothing anyone can do to bring you back.

Many things could kill a human being, and many complications could occur in a split second, and that makes trauma an unpredictable event. 

Your fingers instantly stop moving over the keys of your computer when the black phone on your desk starts screaming. At first, your eyes switch to your phone, but you have any non-emergent calls silenced. That explains it. 

You flinch. You suddenly become painfully aware of the city’s lights shining on you from behind, the blue light of your laptop illuminating your face and causing your pupils to shrink, and the bulb in your desk lamp that is flickering every so often, reminding you that you need to switch it sometime soon. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, then press the acceptance button. You answer the phone. “This is Doctor Clarke at Metro General,” you say. “How can I help you?”

“Jesus,” the familiar voice reaches your ears, and you let out an almost annoyed sigh. “You sound like hell,” Claire answers. 

“And you don’t sound sick,” you retort. 

You aren’t sure what to make of her sudden mystery illness, or why she didn’t tell you and you had to find out from the hospital administrator who was losing it over the fact that her favorite nurse called out sick that morning. 

The phone goes silent for a short moment before she says, “It’s complicated.”

“Hey, we all need sick days sometimes,” you shrug. “Just took us all by surprise, is all.”

“Are you trying to turn this around on me so we won’t have to talk about you?”

Your lips part in a dry chuckle. “Is this about me?” you ask, even though you know very well that it is. You’re the one trying to deflect.

“You silenced your phone.”

With another sigh, you push the stack of papers you’ve been working on aside and take the next folder from the pile. “I’m fine.” You hold the X-ray picture up to the light, squinting your eyes. “Just... splendid, yeah. You want me to do a psych eval? Urine sample? My social security number?”

You can physically hear her roll her eyes at your comment. “Can’t I just be worried about you without you taking it like a personal attack?”

It’s a loaded, rhetorical question asked in a tone that you are more than familiar with. It is a train wreck waiting to happen, but Claire is your friend—a very caring friend, too—and she hardly ever lets loose when she wants to know something. 

She knows you better than anyone, after all. She knows everything, even the parts you swore to never talk about again—parts you swore you would take to the grave. 

That is the purpose of a new life, isn’t it? Forgetting the past ever happened, then moving on? If that could actually heal trauma, life would be so much easier. Unfortunately, denial tends to make the wounds bleed faster. You will die faster if you keep it all bottled up, but it’s easier said than done when it comes to reality. Sometimes, denial is the only luxury you can afford for yourself, even if it slowly kills you. 

You have seen your fair share of traumatic injuries pass in and out of the emergency room over the years. Not just physically but mentally as well. There is only a small margin of error in an even smaller time frame in which traumatic injuries can be treated without lifelong consequences. The scars though, they remain forever. 

“Look,” Claire continues softly, “I’m worried about you. I know you hate talking about yourself, but every once in a while, I have to make sure you’re alright and not... falling apart or something.”

You swallow thickly, the lump slowly starting to hurt your esophagus. “Why would I be falling apart?” you question, but your voice no longer has the same level of conviction in it. 

Feigned confidence doesn’t go a very long way, you’ve noticed. You can’t stand your ground when you don’t believe in where you’re standing. 

“A little birdy told me you had a bad day. That’s why.”

In the halls of a hospital—any hospital—word travels faster than lightning. You roll your eyes, but you don’t know what to say. She isn’t wrong. You did have a bad day. Your blood is still boiling. Everything in you feels a hundred pounds heavier. You may not be falling apart because there is not much of a foundation left to fall apart, but the feeling is eerily similar. 

You used to be a beloved surgeon at a prestigious hospital for all five years of your residency, but with each year that passed, what had once been just a spark turned into gigantic flames that slowly began torching your skin. They burned your flesh and dragged it down to your fragile bones. Your body went into shock over the years. You became septic. And it almost killed you, too. 

Your heart froze in place before it miserably cracked. It didn’t take long before the inferno took over every last crevice of your life. It burnt out everything that was remotely good for you. You were so dependent on something—someone—that was slowly poisoning you. 

You ran for months. You moved from State to State, you changed your name and your whole identity twice. You tried everything to get away, but your demons kept haunting you. The distance between you and your old life grew bigger until eventually, you reached the other side of the country, hundreds of miles from the hell you escaped from. There was nothing left in your past to exist for, so you became someone else. You lost yourself and gained a stranger’s identity in return. Someone who wasn’t scarred from a battle that she almost fully lost. 

You thought it would be easy to pretend to be someone else, someone without the same wounds that have been inflicted on you, but that turned out to be the wrong thing to believe. 

Claire’s voice rings out again. “What’s going on with you, Liv?” she asks.

You’re not really present at the moment, but this time, you hear her. 

You shake your head. “Nothing.” It’s a blatant lie, but it rolls over your tongue so easily, you are tempted to believe it yourself before your friend even can.

“You keep zoning out,” she says. “You’re not helping your case.”

“It’s been a long day, that’s all. What’s going on with you?” 

Her lips part in a soft exhale. You hit the nail right on the head. “Nothing’s going on with me. I just had to take a sick day. Migraines, you know? I get them sometimes.” 

You don’t buy it. Her voice sounds strained, but more like she is forcing herself to sound sicker than she is. Not that you are allowed to judge, it simply strikes you as odd, considering that she isn’t usually like this, and it makes you wonder what else she is keeping from you. 

A pregnant pause follows. “I heard about the girl,” Claire says then, changing the subject. You’re both way too good at that. You’re hypocrites.

“Annie,” you cut her off. “Her name’s—was Annie.”

You keep replaying it over and over in your mind. From the moment you received the page to the ER to the little girl landing on your operating table, you retrace all of your steps. You rethink every decision you made, every uttered order, every cut, and every stitch. Every time you do, you come up empty.  

Annie was six years old. She got hit by an oncoming car. It was a gruesome sight, but you kept telling yourself that it could have been worse. She was stabilizing when you took her to the operating room. All the tests suggested that controlling the damage could buy some valuable time for the specialists to do their jobs. In your mind, the path was clear to a full recovery. 

Everything you did to save her life ended up doing absolutely nothing. 

It elicited a feeling that you are more than used to—inadequacy. You know that it is utterly selfish to think that way; this isn’t even about you. The feeling wraps like a noose around your heart, but you can’t allow yourself to make this about you. You’re not that type of person. 

Claire takes your silence as an answer. “I logged into the hospital server and took a look at the X-rays,” she says. “That aortic tear was irreparable, as much for you as it would’ve been for the world’s best cardiothoracic surgeon. This wasn’t your fault.”

Your throat tightens. “You don’t know that,” you argue. “I could have caught it earlier. I could’ve… I could’ve done something.”

“No, Liv, you couldn’t have. But I think you know that.”

You search the depths of your mind for the right words to say, but you come up with none. “Who blabbed, anyway?” you ask.

In this case, though, the question is, who didn’t? Everyone must have heard about Annie by now, and the people around you care too much. It was bound to reach Claire’s ears eventually. You just didn’t think it would happen so soon.

Claire holds off on her answer for a moment. “Doesn’t matter,” she answers. It’s the kindest choice. “What matters is that you can’t beat yourself up for something that wasn’t your fault.” Her voice suggests that she’s smiling.

“I…I’m fine,” you lie.

“I know you’re not.” 

“You’re the one who called in sick but clearly isn’t. You don’t see me bugging you about it.” 

That shuts her up for a moment. “This isn’t about me,” Claire tries to talk herself out of it, but you see right through her.

“Are you sure?” you ask. 

“I—” She sighs. “I promise you, if there was something going on, I’d tell you.”

You should return the sentiment. You should tell her what you’re really thinking, but you’re mute. When it comes to your own feelings, all words in the English dictionary elude you.

Still, the feeling that Claire is lying to you keeps eating away at you. She has no reason to. Or maybe she has, but it’s none of your business. You’re curious, maybe a little worried, but you can’t expect her to tell you every little thing about her life and then refuse to do the same because you can’t possibly ask for help with something you don’t even understand yourself. 

You’re miserable enough as it is. You would rather suffer through it alone than bother her with your chronic overthinking and the fear of failure. 

“I’m still cat-sitting for Jenny,” she breaks you out of your thoughts. 

You chuckle slightly. “But you’re allergic to cats,” you say.

“I know, but…” She stops herself. “The point is, I still have an almost full bottle of white wine in the fridge and there’s this deliciously cheap pizza place around the corner. Their breadsticks are to die for, trust me. You could come over after your shift and we could look after that stupid cat together. Maybe. Just until we both feel better.”

Until you both feel better. You feel like it would take more than wine and pizza to make you feel better. 

You need to sulk. You need to marinate in your misery. That way, you can suck it up and be better next time. Everything else seems like too much of a waste of time.  

You shatter what little hope she had about you agreeing to her offer like a full wine glass on a white cloth, sure to leave stains. Your hand momentarily motions toward the stack of paperwork, but then you remember that she can’t see over the phone. “I wish I could,” you say, “but I have to finish my surgical reports by tomorrow.”

Claire nods slowly. “Are you sure it’s the paperwork?”

“I promise.”

She accepts defeat. She can’t change your mind. You’re stubborn, determined, and a pain in the ass most of the time. She still loves you, but she has long given up on forcing you out of your shell. 

Sometimes, which is more often than not, you prefer to be miserable because you have no idea how to be anything else.

“Well, I tried. So… at least call me if you need anything,” she says.

You offer her a smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You’re tired. Your heart is pounding from all the caffeine and the frustration of the unknown. You have paperwork. As long as you have paperwork, you’re occupied. It’s as good a reason to avoid talking about anything that could be considered even remotely personal. 

“Thank you, Claire. For everything,” your voice is barely above a whisper. “Take care of yourself. I’ll talk to you later.”

You hate that you’re like this, but you can’t change who you are now or what all those years of suffering have made out of you. You can’t change the fact that underneath Olivia Clarke, it is not who you are. And it will never be who you are because her identity is a fraud.

You may have escaped the worst time of your life and traded it for a fresh start, but that doesn’t take away the paralyzing fear that still sits deep in your bones, making it impossible for you to sleep at night. It may be a fresh start to a new life, but the slate is far from clean. There are bloodstains that you can’t get out. Stains that will haunt you forever. 

Every day and every night that you spend at the hospital, you’re reminded of the terrible past that threatens to overshadow your future whenever you set foot outside. Your name may be Olivia Clarke, but that will never be your real name, no matter how badly you try to pretend it to be. And on some days, it breaks you just a little more when you fail at the one thing you have always excelled at. The one thing you have dedicated your life to. To do something good, to be worth something, and to prove the cruel monsters in your mind wrong about their assessment of you. 

You don’t want to be a coward. You don’t want to be weak. You don’t want to be dependent on anything or anyone ever again. You forgot how to be happy. You became someone you’re not because the person you used to be was broken by someone she thought she could trust. 

He took everything from you, and he took all that you are. Olivia was never taken advantage of. 

Claire saved your life. She knows the truth, but facts aren’t enough. She’s your only support system, the only one who knows who you truly are, deep down, and yet she knows nothing at all. 

Long after you’ve hung up the phone, you start wandering the halls of Metro General. You haven’t quite figured out what you’re looking for yet. You want to be alone. You want to be not needed. You want to exist somewhere that isn’t here. And you don’t want to be found, just for a little while. 

When you get settled on an empty bed in one of internal medicine’s abandoned hallways that had to be emptied after severe budget cuts affected the hospital, the tears start pouring out without warning. You barely manage to stifle the sobs that slip past your lips. You hate crying. You used to believe that it was a sign of weakness, but tears have become as much of a partner in crime to you as the pain has. 

It’s not as easy as it used to be to hold all of those treacherous feelings in—feelings you don’t even understand yourself—and that makes you hate yourself enough to cry even harder. Because you try, try, and you try even harder as you give all of yourself over and over again to be someone you never thought you would turn into, and still, you find yourself failing more times than you could possibly count. 

Your life ended when you met the man who ruined you; ever since then, you have only been a shell of the person you used to be, and there is seemingly nothing you can do about it other than accept that Olivia Clarke is who you are now, and she is all you can be. 

You didn’t expect another lonely soul in need of an escape to find his way to your little haven. This hallway isn’t even on the hospital map anymore, but he still somehow found his way here. 

Your eyes switch to his cane, the red glasses, and the way he so awkwardly carries himself when he seems to realize that he, in fact, isn’t alone. You know that feeling of instant disappointment all too well, and he just caught you crying, which only makes matters worse. 

After the initial awkwardness has dissipated and you get to talking, you take a moment to appreciate him. His name is Matthew. He is a defense attorney. He is unlike any man you’ve ever met before. You’re cautious when it comes to new people, but there is something almost calm about him. He’s funny, charming, and he’s respectful. He made you feel comfortable from the start.

There is a mystery surrounding him. You know all about mysteries. They draw you in. They make you feel less alone in a way. He is the biggest one you have encountered so far. 

People tend to consider you an enigma, too. Most of them are wary of you because you barely share anything about yourself. You’re still learning, even after two years, to be someone new. You’re constantly reinventing yourself because all you were before is gone now. You lost yourself in the fire. So, most people you meet don’t talk much when they do; you’ve gotten used to having only one friend. It keeps your identity safe, as guarded as you are. It’s the safest bet for everyone involved—or everyone not involved. 

Matthew is different. He seems genuinely curious, but he doesn’t pry. And that makes you open yourself up to him, even if it is just your body language. He’s sitting right next to you, his calm voice like a gentle symphony in your ear. He serenades you every time he speaks. That is a dangerous quality. He’s an attractive man, and you can’t keep your eyes off of him. You can’t stop listening. He’s like a work of art—a damaged work of art.

The man before you is broken and bruised. That’s what makes him so mysterious. The hesitation you showed when he introduced himself, indirectly asking for a piece of you in return, shows when you ask about his injuries. 

You have seen all kinds of injuries, including those on a blind man who fell down the stairs. Matthew doesn’t fit the profile, and that only makes him more mysterious and therefore more interesting to you. 

You have to stop yourself before you ask too many questions. You don’t want to push him away, but you also can’t draw him in. You can be nice, but that is as far as you are willing to go. You hold your walls so high that no one can break through them, no matter how fascinating or attractive they are. 

Matthew is a dangerous man because he makes you feel things that you have long told yourself never to feel again. But it’s hard when he makes it so easy to like him. 

You patch him up. It’s not just professional courtesy; he seems like he desperately needs someone to look after him. You are being nice to him, that is all. You keep telling yourself the same thing. 

You’re still disappointed when you get paged to the emergency room and you have to leave him behind. The chances that you will see him again are low, and they shrink to zero when you return to the hallway four hours later and find it dark and empty again. The plastic packaging of the bandages you used on him is still lying around, but that is all that is left of him. All you have is a memory of a very unexpected encounter that will probably never occur again. 

But maybe that isn’t such a bad thing, after all. At least like this, you can’t make the mistake of falling for a guy claiming to be nice. At least like this, you can keep your fragile and already broken heart safe from enduring the same kind of pain ever again. 

You pass the nurse’s station in the emergency room on your way out. Dropping the chart of your last patient on the counter, you wish everyone a good night. 

“Liv, before you leave–” One of the senior nurses stops you dead in your tracks, “Someone left a card for you,” she says.

You turn around, frowning at her. “A card?” you ask. “Who did?”

Her lips curl into a mischievous smile. “Handsome fella. And he had good manners.”

Your mind reels. There are only a handful of people that would fit that description. Every time someone leaves something behind for you, your first response is to panic. Your blood pressure spikes. You can feel your heart beating up to your throat and your vision blurs. You’re not a fan of the suspense or knowing grins, and it’s obvious. 

The nurse’s smile fades and she rummages through the stack of papers next to the computer. “He only knew your first name and his blindness made it a bit harder to figure out who he was talking about, but thankfully we only have one excellent trauma surgeon named Olivia,” she says, her eyes still twinkling. She can’t help it. 

You let out an audible exhale. Your body relaxes. Your heart rate slows down. You can finally see her clearly again, and she slides the card across the counter for you to take. You want to apologize for the hostility, but her face tells you that she understands. 

The next time your heart starts beating faster, it isn’t out of panic. You look down at the names on the card and the distinctive number on the back, and your brain releases a sudden rush of dopamine. It’s late, you’re tired, but somehow this little gesture puts a surprising smile on your face. 

You shouldn’t be as excited as you are. Your plan for this evening has been tossed far out of the window in an instant.

“So,” the nurse asks, “who is he? A patient? A friend?” She wiggles her eyebrows. “A guy from Hinge?”

You shake your head. “Just… a guy I met,” you answer. 

If he were an official patient, this would be highly unethical and you would have to toss his number into the nearest trash can.

The blood has permanently settled into your cheeks. You’re not usually the kind of person who blushes. It’s infuriating.

With a chuckle, she leans over. “Well, either way, the guy was smoking. Said you should give him a call. I hope for your sake that you do.”

You keep twisting and turning the card. “What else did he say?”

“Not much. Just said that I should give this to you and that you should call him if you want. You must’ve made quite the impression.”

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. You would’ve never suspected this. You are essentially still a stranger to him, and he still left you his number. He wants you to call him.

It makes no sense, and yet it flatters you like nothing has in quite a while. 

You let out a soft sigh before stuffing the card into the pocket of your coat. Looking up, you meet the nurse’s curious eyes. 

Your mind is taking its time to process your thoughts and the feelings connected to your thoughts. 

She chuckles at the bewildered look in your eyes. You must look like a fool. “Where does one meet a specimen like that anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?” she says. “‘Cause I desperately need me one of those.” 

A beat of silence follows. Then, you wet your lips and answer, “Abandoned hallways. Way more effective than Hinge, apparently.”

The subtle joke makes her laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You put in the effort to fake a smile with your nod. “Well, thank you,” you say. “You guys have a good shift. If you need anything, page me.” 

“Will do,” she says. The other nurses nod. Of course, they listened in on your conversation. 

With another small wave in their general direction, you make your way outside into the cool night air. You retrieve the business card from your coat, your eyes roaming over the names carefully printed on it, and the Braille that has been added for obvious reasons. 

Nelson & Murdock. Attorneys at law. 

From what he told you, this is probably the only somewhat expensive thing he and his partner afforded for a semi-successful marketing plan for their practice. It almost makes you chuckle.

Matt Murdock is a very fascinating man, though as you stare at the card and the number on the back you can’t help but feel a slight hint of unease bubble up in your chest, and you ask yourself, what did you get yourself into?

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson

[imyourbratzdoll]

Jane smith with a hansen reader Both rivals to lovers y/n has a harley quin like playfulness with a vicious side like her brother lloyd and shes with jane pleaseee

hey baby! honestly, I loved writing this hehe.

summary - you and jane smith are rivals when it comes to your job, but that doesn't stop you from flirting with her.

warning - death, killing.

the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

“BOOM! BAM!” You giggle as you blow up another building before running toward it, wanting to ensure all your targets are dead. You skip around, giggling as you check the burnt-dead bodies, poking them with your gun or toe. “Hmm, boringggg.” You look around, squinting as you catch a glint of something in the distance. You wave, smiling brightly. “Hiya, Jane!” You can just picture her grumpy look, knowing she’d be annoyed with you beating her to the targets. You skip around for a while, pocketing some jewels you find before exiting the building. 

You smile as your met with your brother Lloyd, standing outside of his car with his arms crossed. You spread your arms. “Big brother! Whatcha doing here?!” You scowl as Jane steps out of nowhere and looks between the two. You scrunch your nose up, waving your finger between them. “You two aren’t? Ya knowing?” 

Jane huffs, crossing her arms while Lloyd just shakes his head, trying to hide the smile only you can bring out of him. He goes to open his mouth to speak when you are all cut off by a scream, your head turns, and a man is running toward you. The man looks ready to attack, and before anyone can react, you aim your gun and fire, shooting a hole in the middle of his forehead, pouting when he drops dead. “Damn, that was fast. Kinda boringggg.” 

“Y/n, stop using my line!” You stick your tongue out before skipping over to the car. You scan Jane, twirling your hair with your finger, giving her a seductive smile. Lloyd rolls his eyes and gets into the car, not bothering to wait for you. 

“So… You come here often?” She glares in return, not finding you amusing. Jane purses her plump lips, causing your eyes to fall on them. 

“You stole my kill.” 

“Pfft. I did not. I am just a better assassin than you.” Jane scoffs, about to get in your face, when Lloyd rolls the window down.

“Jesus Christ, can you two stop measuring your imaginary dicks and get in the damn car?!” You give a cheeky grin before poking your tongue out and hopping in beside your brother. Your eyes scan Jane’s body as she sits in the car, licking your lips as your eyes connect with hers, ignoring how Lloyd groans. “Why did I come to pick you up?” He facepalms.

“Cause you love me! And I would’ve blown up your house if you didn’t. But I don’t know why you picked Maleficent over here up.” Jane scowls at you before turning her head to look out the window. You continue to stare at her, wondering how someone so beautiful could exist and knowing you never stand a chance with someone like her. The ride back home is silent, and you begin to get lost in your thoughts. You hated this part. You are always playful, crazy or vicious on the outside, but inside, your mind gets to you. You get lost, and you begin to think and thinking, for you never went well. You’ll admit you have a tiny crush on the woman across from you, but she didn’t like you. You annoyed her. 

“We’re here.” Lloyd gets out of the car, not wanting to be trapped with you two any longer. The sexual tension made him feel sick, don’t get him wrong. Lloyd was a sexual guy, and usually, the thought of two women going at it would get him off. But his own sister? With her enemy? Definitely not.

You sit awkwardly in the car, not making any movement to leave. “So… How’s your husband? Jerry?” You stare at her with wide eyes, not caring if it made her uncomfortable but also applauding her for not making it obvious if she was. 

“John and I don’t know. We’re no longer together.” You nod, surprised. You smirk before giggling to yourself, shaking your head. “What? What is so funny?” 

“Well, that means you are available.” You smirk and wiggle your brows. Jane scoffs and rolls her eyes, and begins to exit the car. You pout, getting your answer. 

She pokes her head back in, looking at you. “Are you coming or what? If you want to date me, you must impress me with dinner first.” You giggle and excitedly exit the car, grasping her hand as you head toward the house. 

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[star--joy]

Hold My Hand & Watch the Sun Rise

When Vex is woken by a nightmare, Percy has the perfect remedy: watching the Whitestone sunrise together.

-

Perc'ahlia Week Day One: Dawn/Treasure

-

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1208

Originally posted: 9/24/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50305858

The nightmare is a vague thing. Incomprehensible, really. There is no monster, no big bad to be afraid of, nothing of the sort. It’s just dark and empty and Vex is running, running, running, away from nothing and everything at the same time. Thick, syrupy dread pools in her stomach.

When she finally jolts awake, she does not scream, or thrash, or even whimper. No, she’s had far too much practice to allow such obvious distress to show. The only thing to leave her trembling lips is a gasp. Quiet, easily swallowed by the still night air.

Alas, Percy was always a terribly light sleeper. The tiny noise is enough to pull him to consciousness. “Mmh?”

Vex holds still, hoping he’ll decide that nothing is wrong and fall back into a full rest.

No such luck. Her hitched breathing must give her away. Or perhaps he can feel the pounding of her heart from where their bodies press together. Either way, he leans up slightly on his elbow, blinking as he tries to see through the darkness of the room. “Vex, I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” she huffs, scooting a few inches away so he’s no longer spooning her so closely. “Go back to sleep.”

Percy is silent for a long few moments, but Vex isn’t foolish enough to think he actually listened to her command. Even if she couldn’t feel him watching her, she knows him well enough to know that returning to sleep is now a lost cause for the gunslinger. He’s going to be too focused on making sure she’s okay to get any more rest.

Gods damn him and his loving fucking care.

“Shall I call for Vax?”

“No, I’m fine. Just— please, Percy, I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing Vex wants is to worry her brother with something as inconsequential as this. She can’t even remember any details of the nightmare, for Pelor’s sake! It’s nothing. She can handle it.

Percy ever-so-gently reaches for her arm, letting his calloused fingers slide down her wrist until their fingers can wrap together. “Dear Heart,” he whispers, eventually, and Vex curses the way that moniker always sounds so lovely on his lips. “Have you ever seen a proper Whitestone sunrise?”

“…what?”

Without letting go of her hand, Percy reaches over to fumble on the nightstand for his glasses. “It’s extraordinarily beautiful, if you have the patience to see it through. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to watch it together.”

Vex turns to peer at him, the squint of her eyes caused half by the dim lighting, half by a confused suspicion. “Why?”

His throat bobs, and he takes a few seconds to consider his answer. “Because I think it would calm you.”

Instinct clamps around Vex, demanding she turn sharp and defensive, deny his care on principle. If it were anyone but Percy, she would probably give into that instinct without hesitation.

As it is, she fights her gut response and tries to meet him in the middle. “Alright. But I’m not talking about it. Yet.”

Percy nods. “Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll come to me. Until then, I won’t pry,” he assures her, bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing the fingers before he guides her out of the bed.

Vex’s silky sleep dress ripples around her as she follows her husband, who only makes a quick stop to their closet so he can throw one of his fur-lined tailcoats over her goose-bump covered shoulders before leading her out to the balcony attached to their bedroom. 

The fresh night air is a balm Vex didn’t know she needed as they step outside. No signs of sunlight appear over the trees, but she reckons it won’t be long before it begins to peek out. In the meantime, she sits on the edge of the bench they’d had installed. Percy sits a few inches away from her, connected only by their intertwined hands, but it doesn’t go unnoticed how he keeps his posture open. If, or rather, when she will inevitably want to, Vex will have no trouble curling into his side. Just now, though, she appreciates the distance.

Time passes. Even in the silence, Percy does not twitch, does not fidget. His eyes are locked onto the treeline. Vex pulls her knees up to her chest so she’s hugging her legs, chin resting on her kneecaps. Focuses on breathing, slowly, in and out.

“Look,” Percy whispers, after what she would estimate to be half-an-hour has slipped by. He points to the forest, where the first beams of purple are beginning to cut across the sky, just barely visible. “It’s starting.”

Vex trails her gaze over the slowly-lightening dawn. “Do you watch this often?” she asks, voice raspy with sleep, but steadier than it had been before. The fresh air and silent company has helped her calm down remarkably well. 

“Not for a long time. This used to be my mother’s remedy to our nightmares, when my siblings and I were young.”

While he speaks, Vex tilts herself into his side, and he’s quick to tuck her into his blanket. Her voice is small when she whispers, “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about, really. Isn’t that stupid?”

It’s a relief when he doesn’t immediately sprout off some practiced response, but rather considers it deeply. “It’s illogical, perhaps, but feelings rarely fall into the realm of logic. We’re all bound to have emotions we can’t explain. Whether or not they’re ‘stupid’, as you say, does not have an effect on whether or not we are.”

The answer is so true to Percy that Vex can’t help but snort a tiny laugh. “Eloquent fucker.”

He shares her laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not called a genius for nothing.”

They lapse into silence once more, and Vex soon finds herself enraptured by the pinks and oranges and yellows that scatter across the dim sky, a mirage she’d been entirely unprepared for. It casts warm light on the city spread out before the forest, as the early-risers begin to leave their homes and do the first errands of the day. Everything is painted in gold. She’d assumed that Percy was exaggerating about the beauty of it all, but looking at it now, there’s no denying how correct he was. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

He pulls her in tighter, running his hand up and down her upper arm. “I told you.”

“Don’t be smug,” she laughs.

“I would never,” he lies, resting his head on top of hers.

The colors continue to mingle and blend as the sun lifts higher and higher. Whitestone’s streets grow busier, shops opening and parents taking children to school. Mingled chatter rises through the air, reaching their ears.

It’s utterly soothing, and Vex cannot help the way her eyes flutter shut for several seconds too long every time she blinks. Percy notices, because of course he does, but does not comment. All he does is tuck his coat more securely around her shoulders and continue to stroke her softly.

When the dawn finishes, she’s long asleep once more. This time, she dreams of nothing but the feeling of being loved.

[senditcolton]

26 w jack hughes or willy nylander pls!

I chose Willy for this one (my first time writing for him! so exciting!) warning: it's kind of a cheating fic, not full blown but still iffy so if you don't vibe with it, I apologize. also, AM34 is in this but he's an asshole in it so, hopefully that helps? anyway, i hope you like it!

Criminal in how I crave the way she tastes.

William Nylander was in trouble: he was in trouble because he was in love.

Normally, being in love is a good thing, something to be celebrated. But when he was in love with his teammate Mitch’s best friend, a friend who was already in a steady relationship, it was nothing but trouble. And that’s exactly the situation that William found himself trapped in.

It was a specific kind of hell, one that he didn’t know how to escape. So, instead, he settled for this; watching you from across the Toronto bar, watching as you celebrated the Maple Leafs win, imagining that it was his arms around you instead of your boyfriend Justin’s, that he was the one whispering jokes into your ear. Any fantasy was worlds better than the reality.

“Yo, Willy!” The voice of his teammate pulls him out of his haze, his gaze dropping from you to the boys standing around the billiards table. “It’s your turn, man.”

William shakes his head lightly before wandering back to the table, desperately trying to concentrate on the shot in front of him. It almost works until the sound of your laughter floats above the bar, causing him to tense and ruin his play.

“Dude, what’s going on?” Kerfoot asks bewildered, walking around the table to retrieve the sunken cue ball.

“Oh, he’s just distracted because he’s obsessing over Y/N again,” Auston casually explains, taking a swig from his beer before waltzing over to the table, placing the cue exactly where he wants on the green velvet top.

“Still?” Kerfy replies to which William heaves a sigh. He wished he never spilt his secret to anyone but one too many drinks led to it slipping and the gossip spread to almost everyone on the team. “Dude, she has a boyfriend.”

“You don’t think I know that?” William retorts.

“Well, yeah but I thought you would get over it a little quicker because of that,” Alex explains and William can’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“I’ve tried.”

“Well try harder,” Auston says, his statement punctuated by the sound of clattering billiard balls. He lifts himself up from his position leaned over the table before propping himself up with the cue.

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t fucking know dude,” he replies. “Get drunk. Punch and scream into your pillow. Take home a girl that looks enough like her that you’re satisfied. Just whatever you need to get over it.”

The words turn William’s stomach. He knew that Auston must have meant well but the way he talked, so carelessly and callously, made him feel sick. Instead, William places his own cue on the table, a silent forfeit to the already lost game.

“You’re a dick,” is the last thing William says before turning away and pushing through the crowd towards the bar, ignoring the shouts from behind him. He makes it to the bar, moving around before he finds a space at the end, shoved in a corner. He attempts to flag down the bartender but with the bustle of a Saturday night, William gives up quickly, in turn decides to wait.

He hopes to get a drink soon and drown his miseries with a beer, or perhaps something stronger. Something that will manage to get you off his mind.

Unfortunately, that hope is lost when he feels the delicate touch of a hand on his shoulder and the smell of a perfume that had haunted him for months fill his senses. And then your voice rose over the commotion, a simple statement laced with a concern that made William weak.

“Hey,” you say, your voice raising over the commotion of the bar as your hand tightens on William’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

~

Some of your friends said that your constant concern for others was the cause of your problems. Even your boyfriend Justin echoed that statement from time to time, thinking that you would burn yourself out from how much you worried about others. But you had always thought that if caring about others was wrong, you didn’t want to be right. It made you feel good about being there for friends, being an ear for them to rant to, or a shoulder for them to cry on. It wasn’t that you didn’t set boundaries. You had your limits and knew when to take a step back. But more often than not, you wanted to help.

So, when you saw William storm away from the billiard tables, ignoring the cries from Auston, you knew something was wrong. And your empathy took over.

“Hey, I’m going to go to the bar,” you explain, untangling yourself from Justin’s grasp. “Won’t be gone long.” You press a quick kiss against his lips before turning away and making your way through the crowd.

You managed to spy William pressed against the edge of the bar, his body slumped forward, his long blond hair falling in front of his face. You manage to squeeze through the press of the bodies until you appear behind him. Your hand reaches out to land on his shoulder and your heart pangs when you feel his body tense underneath your touch.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your voice loud enough to carry over the background noise but your tone still caring. It takes a moment and a deep sigh before William responds.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he mumbles and you almost lose the words in the commotion around you.

“Are you sure?” you ask, shoving your way next to him so you can manage to look at his face. “I just noticed you kind of storming away from Auston and Kerf and I wanted to make sure everything was alright.” Your explanation causes William’s gaze to flick up to you, his blue eyes gentle.

“I’m fine. Thanks.”

“Okay. But just so you know, if you need someone to talk to, I’m here. I’ve been told I’m a good listener.” You are about to retreat to your original table when you hear William’s mutter.

“That’s the problem.”

“What was that?” you question, turning back to face him, your eyes still filled with concern. William’s own eyes dart back to yours, clearly caught off guard, not expecting you to hear his last utterance. You watch for a moment, noticing an almost imperceptible shift within him as he straightens up, holding your gaze with a fierce sudden determination.

“I said, that’s the problem,” he repeats and your eyebrows furrow at his words.

“What’s the problem?”

You see William’s eyes tear away from you to dart around the bar and you are about to follow his gaze until you feel his hand grasp yours and before you can blink, he is pulling you away from the and into a secluded hallway. He finally drops your hand and spins back towards you to connect his piercing blue eyes with yours once again.

“William,” you begin. “What’s going on?”

“I do have a problem. A major problem.”

“Well, what is it? Maybe I can help.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” he says, taking a small step towards you. “Because you’re the cause of it.”

“Me? What does that –”

“I like you,” William confesses, cutting you off. You are taken aback by his words, the admission startling you but before you have time to process it, he continues. “I like you a lot. I have for a while. And now, I’m getting caught in these spirals of thinking about what it would be like to be with you. How it would feel to hear your laughter every day, to take care of you, to come home to you after a long road trip.”

“William –” you attempt to say, his words dancing around in your head as he continues his approach.

“How it would feel to wake up next to you every morning,” he breathes and you let out a sharp gasp as you feel your back hit the concrete behind you. William doesn’t slow, his body moving into your space. “How you would look tangled in my sheets, how your body would feel pressed against mine. What it would be like to kiss you.”

You knew it was wrong. You had a boyfriend. You were happy with Justin. But you wouldn’t deny the fact that you had found William attractive from the moment you met him. And in the deep, somewhat shameful parts of you, you had thought the same things. You had quieted those fantasies for months, not wanting to ruin the perfectly good relationship you had.

But now, here with William’s body leaning over yours, his weight supported by his hands pressed against the wall, his breath ghosting over your bare skin, his lips mere millimeters away from yours, it was hard to ignore those hidden wishes that were now screaming at you will full force.

“Tell me that you’ve wanted me the same way I wanted you,” he whispers.

The desperation in his voice is what does you in, causing the damn to break and all your desire to come surging forward. Your body moves without thinking, your hands tangling into his hair, pulling him that small distance closer before your lips meet.

The kiss is fevered, frantic, frenzied but you were past the point of caring. You just needed to feel his lips against yours. It is a split-second before William is returning the kiss with as much passion, his hands falling from the wall to grasp your hips. The two of you continue to kiss, becoming more desperate with every second passed. William’s lips fall from yours to kiss across your jawline down your neck. Your leg lifts to wrap around the back of his thigh, his hand coming to grip your own thigh to pull you closer. You gasp as you feel his body press against you and it seems that that sharp sound breaks through the lust.

William pauses, his lips leaving your beck, his blue irises darting up to look at you, filled with a look that you didn’t recognize. You move your head forward in attempt to kiss him again and your lips barely touch his before William is pulling away again. You try again, managing to kiss him lightly before he once again retreats. There is a small pause as the two of you look at each other before a small curse is uttered from William’s lips.

“Shit,” he murmurs, his gaze tearing from you and your eyebrows furrow at his words. “Fuck. We shouldn’t. Justin,” he continues and with that one name, you are shocked back into reality. William pulls away from you and you don’t stop him as the two of you disentangle from each other.

“I’m sorry,” William says when he steps away from you. “I’m really fucking sorry.” With that, he turns on his heel, disappearing into the crowd, leaving you breathless against the wall.

It takes you a few minutes to collect yourself enough to venture back to the table with your friends, your mind still in a haze over what just happened.

“Babe, are you alright?” you hear your boyfriend’s voice call out and you are snapped out of your thoughts, blinking dazedly to see Justin looking at you with concern.

“I’m fine,” you say, your voice not nearly convincing enough which you can see when one of Justin’s brows lift in disbelief. “I think I just had a little too much to drink. Can we go home?”

“Yeah, of course,” Justin replies, jumping out of the seat and grabbing his car keys out of his pocket. After a quick explanation to your friends and a few hurried goodbyes, Justin’s hand is pressed against the small of your back, leading you towards the exit. Before you reach the door, you glance behind you and your eyes instantly connect with William, back at the billiards tables, his gaze locked on your departing frame.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” you hear Justin ask again, his voice pulling your eyes back to his.

“I think we need to talk.”

[tolkienlockian]

A/N: Co-writing fanfiction with @marauder-level-chaos is here!! It's a Marauders and Shadowhunters crossover fanfic, featuring our OCs, Amethyst "Meth" Black and Aster Hightower. First chapter takes places during the second episode of the first season of Shadowhunters, hope you enjoy it and feedback is always welcome! (anyone who wants to be added to the tagslist let us know)

Chapter 1: Godammit

This was ridiculous. Actually, missions for the whole week had been ridiculous. The best and brightest shadowhunters of the New York Institute were stuck babysitting a little girl, all for Jace’s desperate need to get laid. Okay, that last bit may be a slight projection on Alec’s part. Still, ever since this Clary had entered their lives, nothing seemed to be going as it should. Even now they were at the City of Bones, waiting to get her memories back. This girl was definitely way more trouble than she was worth. She had lived her life as a mundane for 18 years and nobody but Alec seemed to think that was suspicious. Jace seemed to trust her blindly and Alec had no idea why. Even Izzy had bonded with Clary’s mundane friend. Maybe if he tried he could get used to these new additions to the institute, but frankly, he didn’t want to. He excused himself from the group under the guise of minding the perimeter for any unwanted guests. There was only one person Alec knew would agree with him about this situation. He picked up his phone and quickly dialed Amethyst, his best friend halfway across the world. It only rang twice before she picked up.

“How’s it going, hot stuff?” Her voice was heavy. Alec could tell he’d woken her up. But he also really needed to talk to her.

“Jace brought mundanes into the Institute. Well one mundane, and a long lost shadowhunter, Clary Fairchild. Her memory has been wiped.”

“Fairchild. Where have I heard that name before? I think I heard my parents talking about it. Anyway, why does she bother you so much?’

“She doesn’t bother me, Meth. I don’t even know her. I just can’t trust her.”

“Hmm, but Jace can. That’s what’s bothering you, isn’t it?”

“You know, I really thought you’d be on my side with this.”

“And I am! I’m just saying there’s more to this than you’re telling me.” Alec knew she was right. Well, partially anyway. “Oh come on, don’t fucking sulk. You’re just pissed because I called you out about Jace. You know I’m always here to talk about it.”

Alec rolled his eyes. “No thank you. I don’t need your leftovers.”

“Good cause it’s not that good anyway.” Their conversation was cut off quickly when Izzy returned, slightly out of breath.

“I lost Simon.”

“Look, Izzy, the mundane isn’t really my responsibili-”

“To Camille.” Meth must have heard that because Alec heard her sigh into the phone.

“Never a dull moment with the Lightwoods.” It was as if on cue, Jace and Clary made their way out from seeing the Silent Brothers. The shocked looks on their faces indicated a strong lack of good news.

“Who’s Alec talking to?”

“Amethyst.”

“Oooo, tell her I miss her.”

“Oooo, keep it in your pants, Wayland.” Meth hissed in Alec’s ear.

“I’m pretty sure she heard you. Anyway, what did you find out?”

Jace and Clary exchanged a look that made Alec want to barf. Why couldn’t they just get to the point?

“Her father is Valentine.” Alec stood there, a blank expression on his face, fighting the urge to scream “I told you so.” Amethyst, however, had no such reservations.

“WHAT?! And she’s still alive?! This is why Alec is the only one in this group with half a brain cell.” While Alec had no doubt that Meth’s screaming had ripped his ear drum, he wasn’t disagreeing with her. Clary should not be here right now. The correct thing to do would be to turn her over to the Clave. They would know what to do. A few 20-something Shadowhunters are not equipped to handle a situation like this.

The ride home was as awkward as Alec had imagined it would be. Neither Jace nor Clary would look at him. And he couldn’t bear to look at them either. How did one little girl make their lives so complicated? Immediately, he went into the training room at the institute. It usually helped him clear his mind.

“Easy there, tiger. You don’t want to break that open.” Alec immediately knew whose voice that was. He’d recognize that insufferable British accent anywhere. Sure enough, he turned around and Amethyst was right there.

“Oh thank Raziel. These idiots are driving me insane.”

“I know. That’s why I asked Fell to portal me here. And I brought Reg. Sirius is on a mission and I’m not leaving him alone in that house. Now, let’s talk over coffee?” Alec nodded, more than willing to catch her up to speed on the shit show that had become his life. And all for a girl he didn’t even know.

***

She loved the Shadow Market! So many colors, sounds and smells for her to enjoy, always something new to discover. Free to mingle, to walk around at her heart's desire, to observe. Tonight she was even lucky, having spotted several mundies with the Sight! She could distinguish them from a mile away; there was something very characteristic in their scent, in how they looked around in confusion and wonder alike, in how they hesitated to stop at a stall and ask for, well, anything.

Funny, she chuckled to herself. Three hundred years and she was still amazed by something as trivial as the excitement of the mundanes.

She shook her head, focusing back on the stunning stand of masks in front of her. All sorts of colors here too, adorned with breathtaking gems and reminding her of a time when the world was younger and she twirled in elegant ballrooms wearing gowns and flowers in her hair. Perhaps the mask with the sapphires would make a nice addition to her collection? Or the other one, the silver, with the powerful glamour?

Suddenly, a gentle vibration from her jacket pocket brought her out of her thoughts. With a frustrated groan she picked up her cell phone, eyes widening at the caller's ID.

“You've got to be kidding me!” She whispered before quickly answering the phone. “On a scale from one to ten, how messed up is it?”

“Now, now, is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“Didn't know you belonged in this category, Raphael.”

“Charming, florcita, but for once I need you to just listen. It's time you leave your little London nest.”

"And why would I do that?”

“Camille is breaking the Accords, does this sound like a valid reason?”

“She what?” Aster left a hiss at the disgustingly familiar name, which was a harbinger of bad news especially when followed by the statement breaking the Accords.

“I know for a fact that your hearing is perfect, my dear. She ordered us to capture a mundane. Hopes to get the Mortal Cup that way.”

“Raphael, stop stalling already! Spit it out, what else is going on? How will a mundane grant her the Mortal Cup?”

“Because he is friends with the Fairchild girl.”

Fairchild?

Did Raphael just mention the Fairchild girl?

The Fairchild girl Magnus told her about all these years ago?

And Camille wanted her mundane friend?

Were these idiots actually trying to start a war that would likely blow up New York?

“Raphael Santiago, what have you done?” A snarl marked Aster's face, making her fangs visible for a few seconds.

“Let's see, I risked my neck by calling you? I try to protect my kin? Now the choice is yours. Clary Fairchild and her little Shadowhunter friends will attempt to save their mundie. We could use an envoy, dare I say, even an ally.”

While Raphael kept talking, part of Aster still tried to process everything she just heard. Not that Camille's breaking the Accords should be particularly shocking. Leave it to her to still be a huge pain even centuries later!

Her eyes involuntarily traveled to the alluring night sky, filled with countless stars. Dawn was a couple of hours away. If she were quick, she'd be on time.

And then the small business of entering the New York Institute.

Who said that life at three hundred would be boring?

Tagslist: @quickbright

[freya-duke]

Villain x love interest 2

————————————————————

He wondered how it came to be like this. How his wife was found by the villains side, hand in hand as the city behind them was in panic. This time, the villain was unmasked and he could now see her honey brown eyes. He shuddered at how they stared at each other. Love and compassion filled their eyes. How did this happen? Why did this happen? He couldn’t wrap his head around this at all.

“You forgot about her. That’s how this happened. You forgot your vows and forgot how important she was meant to be.”

He looked up, only now realizing that he said it all out loud. Tears threatened to spill from his eyes as he racked his brain trying to remember when. He turned to face the woman he once knew, as if silently asking her when, when he left her behind, when he forgot about her. Then it hit him, when was the last time he saw her? Was it last week or maybe the week before?

“I- Im sorry darling please- I can do better just don't-”

“You can’t do better, you made your choice, you chose them over me. I was the one you married but it seems like you married the city before me. We said till death do us part and I meant that whole-heartedly but you didn’t. You didn't notice that I was gone, I waited for you to find me, to save me, I had hoped for days on end that you would come and find me and take me back home, but you never came and I lost all hope in you.”

His mind was racing and it seemed like everything was spinning, those words echoed in his head, he failed- he failed her, he couldn’t retaliate her words even if he wanted to, because they were true. Over the years he cared more for the city than the one he married, then the one he claimed as the love of his life, the one he said till death do us part to. He failed her and now she has become this. She has become part of the problem, because of him, she is now a villain who is filled with hurt and it was because of him.

“I’m sorry- i’m so so sorry, please forgive me, let me try again- just- just dont become this, someone who is part of the prob-”

“PART OF THE PROBLEM? YOU’RE THE PROBLEM, YOU ACT ALL HIGH AND MIGHTY THINKING THAT EVERYONE SHOULD WORSHIP YOU! YOU- you don’t deserve it, I am not the problem, i’m like this because of you, you’re to blame, you’re the reason and in the end you are the problem. It’s people like you that cause such mayhem in the world, you work from behind the scenes, you cause all the pain and you make the villains who they are today.”

Tears ran down her face as she spoke to her past lover, as she gave him the truth of the world, of himself. She let herself shed a few tears of her hurt, of her pain before feeling the villain's hand interlock with hers. She was embraced by the villain, her head in their chest and her arm wrapped around her waist.

“She’s right, you think you deserve all of the statues, awards and praise you get, but how would they feel when they find out your part of the actual problem? How would they feel knowing that your the reason that villains exist in their city, that your behind the scenes cruelness caused them and their city so much pain. How about it? Brother”

In that moment his world stopped as he heard explosions, screams of pain and terror rang in his ears. He was too focused on the two of them talking that he wasn’t focused on their movements. He looked around and then he noticed it, his darling, held a remote, thumb pressed on the bright red button. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t move, everything was just too much, too many noises that rang throughout his ears. The explosions, the screams and the laughing- why was there laughing?

“It’s- it’s so funny, you’re in such despair, you’re hurting so much. Now you feel my pain, our pain.”

“You will live to see the end of it all, the end of the precious city you tried so hard to protect. You failed me, you failed her, you failed your city. You’re nothing but a failure who hurt anyone and everyone to prove your worth. You didn’t love her, and you sure as hell didn’t love me. Only you stupid city. So in return to the pain you caused us we will return it-”

They both looked up at the hero that stood still, he remained speechless as he stared them down, tears threatening to spill from his eyes. His eyes darted around as he saw them take something out their pockets. A small item remained in the palm of their hands as they both unclasped the fingers that now used to cuddle the item. Remotes. They held a remote in their hands, their fingers both reaching to press the button-

“Tenfold.”

In that moment they pressed the buttons and more explosions tore up the city, bigger this time, debris flew through the air as well as bits of limbs from those who suffered an unfortunate fate. The hero fell to his knees as he finally let the tears that settled in the corner of his eyes spill, they fell down his face, never ending. He stayed there, still, crying and speechless. The sound of heels and boots clicking against the concrete surrounded him, the two different shoes appeared in front of him, he heard whispering above him but he didn’t care. He was too wrapped in his head to care.

“Look at us”

Not wanting to comply he kept his head down, staring at the concrete floor that was stained with his tears. He heard a sigh from above him as the two crouched down to his level.

“What do you want”

“Stand up and we’ll show you”

“And why should I?”

“Do it willingly or we will force you to stand”

“Then I suppose force will need to be used”

And with that the two gripped his arms while they heaved him up, they turned themselves around and started walking, right towards the ledge of the building they stood on.

“What are you doing- that’s a ledge, what do you plan on dropping me off the ledge?”

“No, well- yes but we plan on dropping ourselves with you”

“We made peace with our death, with our end. We destroyed the whole city, killed a bunch of people in the process. There is nothing left for us and we made peace with that.”

With that said, they reached the ledge, the two women looked at eachother, love once again filled their eyes and they smiled at each other. They were surprised at the fact that the hero took the first step on the ledge.

“Goodbye”

“Goodbye”

“Goodbye”

[americasass91]

Baby Fever

Hello lovelies! I hope everyone is well! This little fic is for the amazingly talented @buckyownsmylife​ 2k/Birthday Challenge! Which the theme for it was breeding kink. Which how could I not participate in that? Breeding kink just happens to be one of the biggest kinks I have(and i don’t even want kids, go figure) So I looked through my Masterlist and realized I didn’t have a breeding kink fic with Steve. Well, I can’t say that anymore!

Thank you for hosting this challenge you lovely, beautiful human! And congrats on the 2k!! You deserve that and so much more! I hope everyone enjoys!

Rating: Explicit (duh, it’s a breeding kink fic)

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: breeding kink(again, duh), Professor!Steve(I feel like he’s a warning all by himself, language, age gap, unprotected sex(I mean, it’s kind of implied but I’ll put the warning anyway)

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

“How long do we have to stay at this thing?”

You help can’t but roll your eyes at your husband of 4 months. “I told you I’m not sure. It’s my niece’s 1st birthday party. You could’ve stayed home you know.”

Steve pulls up to your sister’s house and parks among the other vehicles in the front yard. “Yeah and give them even more reasons to hate me? No thanks.”

See, Steve wasn’t your family’s favorite person. It all has to do with the fact that he’s 10 years older than you and how you guys met, which was during your freshman year of college. You were the innocent student and he was your history professor.

The attraction was instant and very mutual between you two. But dating students at this particular university was frowned upon and Steve could have lost his job. So, you admired each other from afar….that is until the semester was over. You went to visit him in his office after your last class and he eagerly bent you over his desk and ruined you for any other future man you may have.

Well, that was 6 years ago now. Your family of course didn’t approve and thought he was just taking advantage of a young, naive student. Your mom was the first to come around when she noticed a change in your demeanor and how happy he made you. She talked some sense into your dad and he eventually backed off as well.  

It took until Steve put a ring on your finger for your sister to accept him. Although you know her and her friends still judged you two. You could tell by the looks you guys always got whenever around them. You learned to not let it bother you. Steve was amazing. He was attentive, caring, and he loved you with everything he had. The only flaw he had was that he didn’t want kids.

It almost made you consider not marrying him. You had always wanted kids. But, in the end you realized you wanted Steve for the rest of your life more than a baby. But he did adopt a kitten with you. So it’s a win, win.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️��‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

He gets out of the car and grabs the gift out of the trunk. You had gotten her an outfit that says ‘My aunt is cooler than your aunt’ and various toys that she would enjoy. Plus, being the book editor you were, you couldn’t not get her a book. So, you got her the very first Harry Potter book. When Steve saw you wrapping it with a questioning look, you told him it was never too early to start a child’s transition into being a Potterhead.

You skipped excitedly next to Steve as you made your way to the front door. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your enthusiasm. “You excited or something, sweetheart?”

After ringing the doorbell, you turn towards him. “Of course I am! I love my little niece!”

Truth was, you knew you were never going to have a baby of your own. So you poured all of your love and joy for a baby into your niece.

You’re pulled from your thoughts when your brother-in-law, Matt, answers the door.

“Mr. and Mrs. Rogers! Glad you made it! Come on in!” He ushers you 2 inside, helping you both hang your coats up in the hall closet. He then points to the obvious gift table. “You can just set that down there, Steve. And if you’d like, me and a bunch of the other husbands are downstairs in the basement watching the game. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

Steve looks at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a quick pecking the lips. “Go have fun. Just make sure to come back up for food and presents.”

As Steve heads downstairs with Matt, you can’t help but take in all the decorations. Little Miss Lindsey just happens to currently be obsessed with The Little Mermaid. So of course the theme is under the sea. Your sister really went all out. Streamers, balloons, and even mermaid figurines were everywhere. There’s even mermaid confetti on the tables.

You head in search of your sister and the birthday girl, one of which you find in the kitchen. “Hey sis! Need any help?”

Your sister, Rachel, turns from the hot dog sauce she’s stirring on the stove and gives you a big hug. “Oh, thank god you’re here! Can you grab the vegetable tray and potato salad out of the fridge and put them on that table over there?”

“Sure! Where’s Linds?” You ask as you grab the requested items out of the fridge.

Your sister returns to the sauce on the stove. “She’s still napping. I should be getting her up soon. Where’s Steve? He stay home? I know this isn’t really his thing.”

You take the plastic wrap off the potato salad and sit it amongst the smorgasbord of other food on the table. “Of course he’s here. He’s down in the basement with the other men.”

You sister lets out a sigh. “Yeah, I told Matt they could only watch until everybody got here. Ah, shit. I think I hear Lindsey crying.”

“I’ll get her!” Quickly jumping at the chance to see her.

“You sure? That would be great! The outfit I want her to wear is on the changing table. And can you do her hair up in the bow, too?”

“You got it!” You make your way down the hall towards Lindsey’s room, her crying getting louder. You open the door and see her sitting up in her crib. Her crying quiets the moment she sees you. She gets a big ole smile on her face and reaches out for you. “Hi, sweet girl! How is the birthday girl today?” You pick her up and give her a big hug. “How about we get you changed into your party outfit?” She just coos back at you in response.

You push her outfit aside and lay her down on the changing table. Quickly realizing she’s wet, you give her a fresh diaper. She attempts to ‘help’ as you try to change her into her party outfit. Which after it’s on her, she looks like a little mermaid. You quickly brush her hair and pull as much of it as you can into a ponytail on the top of her head and add the matching bow. You stand back a little from her and clap your hands. “What a pretty girl! Are you ready to join your party?” You pick her up and turn around to head out of the room. You’re surprised to see your husband standing in the doorway.

“Hey, I thought you were watching the game?” He shrugs his shoulders and walks towards you two. “I missed you.” He tickles Lindsey’s side, causing her to giggle. “Happy Birthday, little one.” You can’t help but feel your heart warm. That always happens anytime your husband interacts with a baby.

“I was just helping Rachel out by getting her ready. She seemed a little frazzled in the kitchen.” You turn your attention back to Lindsey. “Come on, sweet girl. Let’s go join your mommy in the kitchen!”

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

The next hour goes by in a blur. You weren’t really paying attention to anyone else. All of yours on Lindsey. The only food she seemed to want was what was on your plate. You didn’t mind sharing. Then she got to ‘smash’ her cake. Which for Lindsey it meant taking delicate little bites from said cake, mostly of the icing. She did still manage to get it all down the front of her though. But that’s okay, Rachel of course had a back up outfit ready.

You had just polished off your hot dog when Rachel walked back into the room with a now clean Lindsey. Steve grabbed yours and his plates to go dispose of.

Rachel sat on the floor with Lindsey who immediately started crawling towards you. “I think you’re gonna have to join us, sis.”

You can tell it’s hurting Rachel’s feelings a little that Lindsey is so attached to you today. Nevertheless, you join them on the floor, placing Lindsey in your lap. “Ready to open presents, sweet girl?”

Rachel turns to Matt. “Honey, could you start handing out the presents please?”

He nods and goes to grab the first of many presents. He sits it down in front of Lindsey who immediately goes for the tissue paper. She doesn’t even seem to care about the present in the bag. You laugh and try to get her attention on the gift inside.

You look up and see everyone laughing at the birthday girl who only wants the tissue paper. You notice Steve towards the back of the crowd, only he’s not laughing. He’s giving you a look. You’ve seen that look before. It instantly sends a shiver down your spine and makes your panties wet. He wants you.

You try to give him a stern look. He shouldn’t be looking at you like that in the middle of your niece’s party. He puts his hands up in surrender.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

After taking almost 2 hours to open the rest of the gifts, Lindsey was a sleepy girl. You were sitting on the couch with Lindsey cuddled up into your chest. You were gently rocking her back and forth. You look over at your sister who was cleaning up the mess from the presents.

“I can go put her down for a nap, Rach. I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, sis. You seem to be her favorite person today so she’d probably scream if I tried to do it. Matt! Could you get a bottle ready for Lindsey so my sister can put her down for her nap?”

A few minutes later he comes out with the bottle and hands it to you.

You stand up and look over at Steve. “I shouldn’t be too long. Did you want to head out of here after I put her down? I know you still have those papers to grade.”

He nods. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. Thanks, sweetheart.”

You squeeze his bicep as you pass by him. “Of course not. Like I said, this shouldn’t take too long.” You glance at Lindsey and notice she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open.

🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️

Just like you predicted, it only took Lindsey about 15 minutes to fall asleep. You take one last glance at her, your heart tugging a little, knowing you’ll never have one of your own.

You quietly close the door and don’t even take 2 steps before the door across the hall opens to reveal Steve. You look at him in confusion. “Babe? Why are you in the laundry room?”

He doesn’t respond. Instead, he grabs your arm and pulls you into the room with him. He makes sure to shut the door behind him.

“Steve, what are you doing? I thought we were leaving?”

He pushes you to the front of the washing machine and presses himself up against you, immediately making you feel how hard he is. “Need you, baby.” He reaches around and starts undoing your jeans.

You start pushing his hands away and try to turn around. His hold on your waist tightens, stopping you.

“Steve, we are not doing this here. You can wait until we get home.”

You are suddenly pushed until your front is resting on the top of the washing machine, Steve covering his body with yours. He lets out a low growl in your ear. “This” he presses his bulge more firmly against your ass “is your fault. So, you’re going to help me with it.”

You turn your head to the side as he pushes your jeans over the curve of your ass. “Me? What the fuck did I do? I haven’t even really talked to you today. Been with Lindsey all day.”

He fastens his pace in removing his own jeans, only lowering them enough to free his aching cock. He lands a smack to your panty covered ass. “Exactly. Made me so hard watching you with the baby. Made me think what it’d be like if we had one. What you’d look like swelled with my kid. Knew I had to have you.”

You managed to push him back far enough to stand up straight and turn around to face him. “Steve, I’m not going to let you fuck me in my sister’s laundry room.” He launches at you, trapping your body between his and the washing machine. “It’s cute that you think you’re in charge. Now, I’m going to fuck a baby into you. And I can either do that here or I’ll take you out in the living room where everyone is and bend you over there.”

Fuck. These panties are officially fucked. Still, you have questions. “I thought you didn’t want kids, Steve? Plus I’m on the pill.”

His face turns soft for a second. He cups your cheek in his left hand. “I didn’t think I did. But seeing you with her today? Now that’s all I want, all I can think about. You with our baby. You’d be the best mother. And you’ll just stop taking your pill. Starting today. We’ll keep trying until it takes. Is this something you’re even still wanting?”

You grab onto his wrist and push your cheek against his palm. “Of course it is.” You turn back around and bend over the washer. You lower your panties to your knees and shake your ass in his direction. “Well? What are you waiting for? Fuck a baby into me, Steve.”

He growls and closes the distance between you. He grabs the base of his cock and rubs the tip through your dripping folds. “Don’t have time to stretch you out first, sweetheart. And I’m really worked up, so this will probably be quick.”

You push back against him, eager to get him inside you already. “Don’t care. Just please, fuck me Professor Rogers.” You knew that’d get him.

“Fuck.” Is the only warning you get before he buries himself in you to the hilt. He just gets his hand over your mouth before your moan escapes your throat.

He only gives you a second to adjust to his size before he starts a bruising pace. After a few thrusts, he removes his hand from your mouth and smacks your ass. He feels you clench around him. “Yeah? You like when your professor fucks you?”

You quickly nod your head. “Yeah. You fuck me so good. Need your cum. Need you to fill me up.”

Steve quickens his pace even more if that’s possible. He moves his left hand off your hip and moves it around you to find your clit. He presses quick circles against it. “Need you to cum first, sweetheart. Need to feel you squeeze me.”

You start pushing back to meet his thrusts. You can feel the coil inside you ready to snap. You just need a little something more.

Steve leans over you and starts pressing kisses up your spine, his pace never faltering. Once he reaches your shoulder, he bites down lightly. He moves his mouth next to your ear. “Come on, sweetheart. Cum for your professor. Then I’ll fill you up nice and full, get you pregnant. Cum for me, Y/N.”

You press your face into the crook of your elbow to muffle your scream as you cum undone on his cock. Your orgasm triggers his. He cums with a quiet shout as he fills you full of his spend, some of it leaking out around him. He gives a few more shallow thrusts before stopping and catching his breath.

He rubs his hands up and down your back. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?”

You turn your head so you can look at him. “Mmm, i’m great.” You can’t help but let out a little giggle, feeling drunk on sex.

Steve smiles down at you and moves his hand until it’s resting on your lower stomach. “I hope it worked.” He slowly pulls out and watches as his cum starts leaking out of your pussy. He quickly scoops it up and pushes it back inside, causing a whimper to escape your lips. “Sorry, sweetheart. Can’t let any of it go to waste.”

Once he’s sure he’s got it all, he quickly pulls your panties back into place. He stands you up and turns you around to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “I love you so much, thank you for being mine.”

You give him a big smile. “I love you, too. And thank you for picking me.” You bend down to pull up your jeans, Steve mirroring your actions. Once you’re both redressed, you wrap your arms around his neck and press a firm kiss to his lips.

“Now, let’s hurry up and get home. Want you to fill me up again.” You give him a wink and turn to head out the door. “You coming?”

He smirks as he starts following you out. “Oh, I will be.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​ @bluemusickid​ @wanderinglunarnights​ 

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo

[bluejaem]

⌗ their little habits when with you ( ver. dreamies )

(✿) —; MARK LEE. playing with your ears. he finds your earlobes to be so soft, almost like one of a baby’s, and finds it absolutely adorable. does this especially when he’s babying you or finds something that you did extremely adorable,, to the point that he’s just screaming with all that love sksks; or when you guys are cuddling, he tends to play with your ears— softly rubbing the back of your earlobes while whispering sweet things in your ear.

(✿) —; HUANG RENJUN. tucking your hair behind your ear. i think i’ve mentioned this before as well, but i just can’t get the imagery of this out of my head. i’ve seen how he takes care of the dreamies by sometimes fixing their hair and i honestly think he’d do the same thing with you :(( anytime he notices any stray strands of hair in front of your face, he’d smile to himself, and leaning in closer, he’d tuck your hair behind your ear.

(✿) —; LEE JENO. sliding his hands around your waist. another observation,, i’ve seen how he’s so subtle, like, you don’t even feel his touch. he’s just that smooth with it. when you guys are in a huge crowd or something, and he has this urge to keep you closer to himself. would do this especially in public rather than at home, or when people are around. don’t mind him, he’s just letting everybody know that he’s yours and you’re his.

(✿) —; LEE DONGHYUCK. having a lot of nicknames for you. i feel like i’ve mentioned this before, and this is also another observation lmao,, but i’ve noticed how he’s always so quick and witty with giving people nicknames. loves, and i mean, absolutely loves— the effect ‘my love’ has on you. or when he’s in the mood for teasing you and goes with ‘mrs. lee haechan,’ ‘cause he finds it so adorable when you become all so shy every time he uses these nicknames.

(✿) —; NA JAEMIN. getting lost in your eyes. i see him as the type to adore you from afar. or just— adore you in general. whenever you’re focused on something, he tends to just admire you for a while, silently watching you. or when you’re telling him something, and he’s just lost in your eyes. and without even realising it, there’s a lovesick smile on na jaemin’s face. when you ask him if he’s listening to you, he responds with, ‘has anyone ever told you how dreamy your eyes are?’

(✿) —; ZHONG CHENLE. pulling you closer to himself. doesn’t matter where you guys are, he just wants you to be close to him. even if you guys are in public, or by yourselves, he’d take any excuse to have you by his side. would take you by your hand, or put his arm around your shoulder, and kind of like jeno, might even hold you by your waist. he likes the idea of letting everyone know that you’re taken— and by him.

(✿) —; PARK JISUNG. smiling to himself whenever you’re talking. yes, this is another observation. jisung looks like a very good listener, but when it comes to you— he tends to forget the fact that you’re saying something, and instead, just ends up smiling like a lovestruck teenager. when you ask him if anything’s wrong, he’d wear a sheepish smile on his face, and with flushed cheeks, he’d respond by saying, ‘sorry, could you repeat that. i just like listening to your voice.’

© BLUEJAEM

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

add yourself to the taglist

tags: @ellerosie2332 @i-love-scott-mccall @rmvb24 @astralpcrker @daisybloommm @maybeisthemoon @moonliightbabes @stormi-ames @jochim322 @coninl @melonoptimist @lunajoyce3 @clairdemoony @mangoberry99 @imclueless @enya-2004 @prongsyy @Lol-whoandwhat-is-dis @burnfleur @anything444ourmoony @horrorxweasley @alicecullens-gf @theincredibledeadlyviper @georgeweasleyshoe3697 @narwhalebaby @cloudyskylines @ezmayzworld @aesthete-c @lunacurlclaw @snktastarkov @rudypankowisdaddy @ohnoitsmekc @all-hailreyna @sapphirepixiesworld @gloryekaterina @sisi.bby @lisszabini

* crossed out means i couldn’t tag you

[marvelsbanner]

Part of a Team

Summary: Wanda is the newest Avengers recruit and she’s having a hard time finding her place in this new life- maybe she can find it in you?

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x y/n, you

Warnings: Brief mention of death and blood, minor language (if you squint theres kind of compromising situations? nothing outright sexual)

Word Count: ~2700

A/N: Reblogs, likes, and comments are VERY much appreciated, all mistakes are my own! xx 

**I don't own marvel and if I did Natasha would be alive**

Something was wrong. You were just in Strucker’s lab- just on the trail of one of the enhanced twins. The alarms were going off around you and your boots clanged on the metal floor- before you froze in your place, a red haze overtaking you and suddenly you were thrown into the daylight.

-

You felt tingles run through your veins and down your spine; your head throbbed. You felt vulnerable, seen. What the hell is going on-

You’re in the forest, you think. No- there are rocks. Big rocks-

Focus.

No, not rocks. Graves. Gravestones. Where the hell are you?

You drag your heavy feet over to the nearest, it takes a moment for your vision to focus.

Who’s grave? Who’s grave? Oh god.  No no no- this, this can’t be-

Natasha Romanoff.

You felt like throwing up. This couldn’t be real. You dragged yourself to another stone situated nearby: Clint Barton. Beloved husband, father, and friend.

It felt like you couldn't breathe, you were just there with them. You were just there.

Your body jerks as cold hands grab your shoulders and spin your body to face them-

Steve.

You throw your arms around his neck, “STEVE! Oh god Steve! You’re okay- you’re.. cold” you feel something wet and sticky on your hand, pulling it back and seeing red. So much red.

“Steve..” you quickly stumble back, tripping in the process. It’s then you see- it’s too late. His body was grey and lifeless. He falls onto his knees and then collapses totally. You scream and scramble backwards, head hitting another gravestone in the process.

You turn to face it, to read another name of one of the team members you’ve come to call family- but it's not one of theirs. It’s yours.

It’s your name. A graveyard for the Avengers, Earth’s mightiest heroes.

Suddenly your body jolts and you take a sharp intake of breath- your ears are pounding. Everything hurts. But you see her- the enhanced. She’s looking at you with a look you can’t describe. It’s not fear, it’s not anger.. Pity? Empathy? You can’t look away from her, the glowing red eyes capturing you as their prey.

And then there was black.

-

A few weeks later and you’re back at the tower. Things have changed- the entire world has changed, really. The battle opened up new doors- literal new doors to new realms- that the world had previously thought impossible.

The team had expanded, with Steve’s friend Sam joining the team, as well as Vision, the synthezoid that helped the team to defeat Ultron.

There was also her.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the enhanced twins from Strucker’s experiments, you eventually learned. It was voluntary, but after learning about her backstory you think you would have done the same in her place. 

She lost her brother- Pietro- in the battle and she took it hard. She didn’t come out of her room when she could help it. Clint was rather protective over her, maybe it was the fatherly figure coming out of him- maybe he was feeling guilt over being the one Pietro sacrificed himself to save. Either way, he was able to get her out of the room a few times and get her to eat. Vision also struck up a strange friendship with the girl- but then again, Vision was easy company, and rather empathetic for a synthezoid.

Everybody took a hit from when Wanda messed with their heads, some more than others.

You didn’t talk for a week.

Didn’t even talk with Clint’s kids when they wanted to play with you.

You didn’t hold it against her. She proved what a valuable asset she was to the team as she fought alongside the group. She did what she thought was right at the time, and that’s not something you could hold against anybody.

Ever since the Battle, Wanda has been staying in the Avengers facilities with the rest of the group, an official Avenger, but you could tell she was still uneasy around the team. She only talked when she was directly talked to and didn't come out of her room but for a few times a day for food and training, sometimes not even then.

And then there was you.

She seemed to avoid you like the plague. You weren’t even sure you two made eye contact for the entire first few weeks she was there.

At first you thought she just didn’t like you, that something about you rubbed her the wrong way, or something you had done had offended her.

But it was her eyes that gave it away- the same soft look that she gave you right after exploring the deepest and darkest parts of your mind that day at Strucker’s lab. She knew from the second it happened that she had hit a deep nerve, and she would continue to give you that damn look every time she thought you didn't notice her.

But you always did.

You couldn’t help it, the way you were drawn to her. She reminded you so much of yourself before joining the team, broken, and alone in your head. You wanted to know her. You wanted to be there for her, be someone to her, you didn’t want her to keep walking on eggshells around you.

And so, you told her.

You found her in the kitchen late one night. She was wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a garnet tank top with a plain gray robe overtop. Her hair was a mess, roughly shoved into a ponytail and her hands were cupped around a mug. She was blowing on what looked to be dandelion tea, and as you got closer the fragrant earthy smell confirmed your suspicions.

She looked adorable.

And slightly startled to find you alone with her.

“Evening” you said as a greeting as you made your way to the counter top.

She gave a tight-lipped half smile with a timid “Hi” before going back to blowing on her tea. She made a slight movement that looked like she was going to try to slip away before you continued,

“You did really well in training the other day. Cap can’t give you enough praise” you say, taking a seat on one of the counter barstools.

She looks puzzled for a moment over your attempt at small talk before getting out a “Thank you.”

You both stood there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other, feeling the air grow thicker with each second ticking by.

“I like the pajamas” you say with a small smirk. You yourself were still dressed for the day in your leather jacket and black jeans. You could have sworn you saw flush creep up her neck before she swallowed it down with a sip of her tea.

There was another silent moment as she gave you a quizzical look, “I don’t quite understand what’s happening here.” She says with a vague hand gesture to the space between them.

You gave a slight chuckle, it was very on-brand for Wanda to be straight to the point.

“Look, Wanda,” You rotated your body on the stool to face her more comfortably,

“I see the way you look at me when you think i’m not looking. You avoid me at any given opportunity, I actually think this has been the most words we’ve exchanged in your whole time living here.”

She raised her ducked head to look you in the eyes and gave a small shake to her head, “I don’t understand.”

You don’t break eye contact, but simply offer a small smile as you reply “I’m not afraid of you, Wanda. And I don’t hold anything from that day against you. All is forgiven, and I would like to move past that. I understand you believed everything you were doing was for the right reasons, and the only thing that it shows me is your dedication and loyalty to a greater cause. Even if it was the wrong one at the time.”

She looked shocked, to say the least. Her mouth slightly opening and closing as she pondered what to say in response.

“You all should be afraid of me. You see the chaos I’ve created and you think you know what I can do,” her voice caught before she continued, “But the truth is I don't even know what i'm capable of. I don’t belong here.” she says softly.

You give a sad smile before slipping off of the stool and moving closer to her.

“We all thought that, at one point or another. We’ve got a whole freak circus here, we’ve got more baggage than Delta flies in a year- that's, that's uh, an airline. My bad.” You elaborate after she gives you a puzzled look, holding back a smile at your stuttered explanation.

“Aaand I ruined the moment.” You give a small chuckle, before continuing “But my point still stands. Nobody belongs here more or less than anyone else. We’re all just here, that's the truth of the matter. We’re just a bunch of unlucky misfits trying to figure out how to work as a team. Just give it a try, and maybe you’ll find you fit in better than you imagined you would.”

At some point during your speech you had moved close enough to take her hand, and you look down at it now, blushing before going to move it away.

Before you could, she gives your hand a squeeze before moving in to place a gentle kiss against your cheek.

“Thank you, y/n.”

And with that she slips away to her room, leaving you alone with your racing heart and her lukewarm mug of tea.

-

The next morning you found yourself awake bright and early for another morning training session with Nat and Steve- but you had a guest this time.

“Wanda” you greeted, which she returned with a timid “Good morning.”

“I’m glad you could make it” you say, sincerely.

“I decided to take your advice.” She replies with the smallest smile pulling at her lips.

The two of you stood there for a moment, just taking each other in before Steve cleared his throat, “Alright, we should get started then. Wanda, I'll spar with you to start. Nat, you take y/n. Try not to kill each other, please.” He said with a humored smile.

You make your way towards the corner with Nat on your heels. She gives you a quizzical look with a raised brow, glancing between you and Wanda. You roll your eyes and shake your head, only responding with a pointed “Later,” before your legs sweep under hers and an arm wraps around her torso, flipping you both to the ground and landing with you on top of her.

“Using my own move against me, that’s a low blow y/n.” You both laugh, and you barely respond with a “I learned from the best” before she wraps a leg around your waist and grabs your wrists with one hand, flipping you over and pinning you to the ground. She winks and replies “Damn right you did.”

It went like that for another half an hour, the two of you going back and forth battling for the upper hand. Natasha was the one who had trained you since the beginning, and you could almost say you were near her equal now. Well, you could at least give her a run for her money in a spar.

The two of you were panting and glistening with sweat, cheeks flushed from the exercise when she gave you a mischievous wink and called out to the other two, “Hey grandpa, I think I’m done getting my ass kicked by y/n for the day. I want someone easy, come spar with me”

If looks could kill, the look you were giving her would have the assassin dead on the floor.

Steve only looked amused, grabbing a towel to wipe his own sweat as he responded “Bring it on, Romanoff. Try not to break anything, though. I’ve been told they want my bones for the Smithsonian” Nat rolled her eyes and gave a pointedly fake laugh before they made their way to the other side of the gym, leaving you and Wanda alone.

“Hi” you greeted. She responded with a small smile and a “Hi” in return.

She looked as though she were still catching her breath, the rise and fall of her chest was noticeably fast and her face was still adorned with a glisten of sweat and pretty pink flush.

The same flush you saw from her last night, standing in the kitchen with the dim light around her.

Oh God you were in deep now.

“Nat and I were just wrestling around, hand to hand combat kind of stuff, but I see you and Steve were boxing so it's up to you what you’d like to do.” you say quickly.

“Well.. I do have this,” She waves her hand to show her flicker of red powers “for missions, so I don’t think I really need that kind of training.” She says with a smirk, “But I admit, you seem like a good teacher. Maybe.. some basics?”

She was pushing it. Pushing at this, the same way you were pushing last night. Alright, maybe you could run with this.

You give her a teasing smile, “Alright then. We’ll start slowly. May I?” You ask, reaching out for her, but not quite touching.

“By all means” she says, and you can feel the familiar flush creeping up your neck again. You release a puff of breath and shake yourself out of your thoughts before stepping closer to Wanda, and in one fluid motion you had one leg behind hers, your left arm resting against her upper chest and your other at the small of her back, pushing her flush against yourself.

You could hear the small gasp she let out, smirking to yourself.

“This is a simple take down, easy to get out of, but good for beginning. Now i'm just gonna pull you down as slowly as I can-”

You bring her left leg out from under her and carefully let the two of you sink to the floor, leaving you straddled on top of her and pinning her arms to the ground. The air suddenly felt a lot warmer.

You meet her eyes, breath hitching as you feel her pulse quicken beneath your touch.

You clear your throat and begin again, “Like I said before, it’s easy to get out of, but you want to keep the element of surprise. Use your opponent's body weight against them, if you can twist your wrist to slip it out of their grip and use your hips to to flip-”

Before you could even finish she had you pinned beneath her, wind knocked out of you from the impact.

“Like that?” she said, looking down at you through hooded eyes, thick accent teasing- flirting?

You were suddenly very aware of your close proximity and compromising position- flush against each other with her hips straddling your waist; close enough to feel her rapid heartbeat. 

“Yeah- that was- that was good” you sputtered out, barely able to hear yourself over the rapid beating of your own heart. Or maybe it was hers- you aren't sure you could tell the difference between up and down right now.

She gave a proud smirk and opened her mouth to say something before a certain synthezoid floated through the gym walls, clueless to the moment he was interrupting.

“Mr. Stark requests a team meeting and would like you to meet him in the conference room.” He said simply before turning and leaving through the wall again.

Wanda gave you a look that seemed to say we’ll finish this later and moved off of you. You missed the heat of her body immediately.

She offered you a hand up and you gladly took it, the two of you walking side by side in silence to the meeting, shoulders bumping and small smiles shared between you two as you think to yourself that maybe you could get used to this. 

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

Hello! Can you write something with female Y/N and Chishiya? She helped him with something and is injured after that. She fell or burn her back or hit her head, but pretends that nothing happened since she think he doesn't care and the injury it's getting worst by days, Chishiya didn't notice at first and he just don't understand why Y/N is not talking with him but lets it go, then the day of game comes and they both have to play and Y/N faints few hours before registration. He is panicking suddenly aware of his own feelings towards her and he is SO worried and feels guilty. I hope you can add a lot of angst but fluffy end? I'm sorry if this is messy, english is not my first language 😭 Thank you!

Of course! And don’t worry your English is great 😊 I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Panicked Confession | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Kuina, Usagi, Ann, Hatter)

Summary: You get badly burnt while saving Chishiya in a game, but made sure he knew nothing about it. Just before leaving for the next game, you pass out and Chishiya finds you, causing him to panic

Warning: swearing, burn injury, vomiting, fainting

Word Count: 4.9k

*reader is female

“Shit! Guys come on!”

You, Chishiya, Kuina and Usagi rushed through the bottom floor of the building. Flames were curling in the air around each side of you, quickly closing in to eat you alive.

All four of you had almost completed the game, being the only players left after the last puzzle of the building. It was a diamond game, a game of intelligence. You were lucky to have been with Chishiya, as Diamonds games were his specialty.

You were all sprinting across the room, together in a tight pack so the flames don’t manage to touch you. You were panting, feeling your lungs collapsing in on themselves, but you had to press on. Only a few more steps before you could jump through the glass window at the end of the room, which was quickly being engulfed.

Suddenly, you saw Chishiya, who was running next to you, trip on a loose bit of debris laying on the ground inconveniently. You looked back and saw him holding his ankle in pain.

Of course, just your luck.

You all stopped abruptly, skidding along the floor and looking back to Chishiya in fear. He saw you all, his eyes widening.

“What are you doing?! Go!” he called out, wincing in pain.

You looked towards Kuina and Usagi, watching as thoughts spiraled around their heads to figure out what to do. The flame was too close behind Chishiya for it to be safe, if someone was to help him, they would have to risk their life doing so.

Both Kuina and Usagi shook their heads and looked away. They turned away from Chishiya and began jogging towards the window again. You froze. There’s no way they would just leave him like that.

“Guys!” You called out to them. They turned to you with fearful expressions painted on their face. “What are you doing?!” You asked, fear and worry dripping from your words. You had to make up your mind soon or you would be burned to a crisp.

Kuina motioned for you to come to her. “Y/N, there’s no time! We have to go!” you could tell she felt awful about this decision, but you weren’t giving up just yet.

You looked back at Chishiya laying on the ground. He was staring at you with a worried expression, wanting you to hurry up and leave him. You couldn’t leave a friend that easy to die. You had to at least try.

You let out a big sigh and lifted your aching legs to race towards Chishiya. He began yelling at you the moment you started running. “No, no, no! Go Y/N! What are you doing?!”

You ignored his shouting and quickly knelt down beside him to lift his arm around your shoulders. You weren’t going to lose anyone else, you promised yourself that after your friends died in the first game you played after appearing in the Borderlands.

Chishiya kept arguing and shaking his head as you tried to lift his body. He was surprisingly heavy for someone his size. “Y/N, go! There’s no time! You can’t save me!” he at screamed you, becoming more desperate with every plea.

You continued to ignore him and began dragging him along towards the window, where Kuina and Usagi were already working on breaking the glass with debris from around them. “You’re not going to off yourself that easily Chishiya as long as I have a say in it,” you rasped out, struggling to keep upright with the extra weight on your shoulders.

As your heart pounded in your ears and you felt the fire become hotter and hotter around you, you suddenly felt an incredibly sharp pain across your spine. The sensation spread all through your body, from your head to your toe, making you cry out and almost collapse to the ground, but you stayed strong.

Chishiya had given up arguing with you, using his good leg to take a bit of his body weight off your pained shoulders. With his help, you managed to move much quicker, limping and staggering your way towards Kuina and Usagi, who had broken the window and were now waiting for you to come, yelling at you to hurry up.

You didn’t look back; you didn’t want to see how close the flames were. You knew it would do nothing but make the situation worse.

As you neared the window, you slowed down as Kuina ran out to help you lift Chishiya up and out of the window. You were relying completely on adrenaline at that point, having lost all of your strength through running and carrying Chishiya.

You managed to lift yourself through the cracked window, earning a few cuts from the leftover glass on the way, and collapsed onto the grass ground below you. A large barrier from inside the room (probably manufactured for the games) closed over the destroyed window as you fell, being lucky to be the last out of the four of you to escape. The flames were locked in, unable to harm you.

The four of you laid on the grass, panting and trying to regain your breath. As your adrenaline calmed down, the pain of your large burn mark set in. You covered your face with your hand and silently screamed against it, trying to drown out the searing pain somehow. You couldn’t worry the others, not after what just happened.

**************

The next couple of days was nothing but a struggle for you. As soon as you arrived back from the game, you stumbled your way to Ann’s medical room. She took a closer look at your burn wound, applying whatever she had to try and reduce the chance of it getting infected. But unfortunately, that didn’t reduce the pain.

After allowing Ann to wrap a bandage around your upper back to protect the wound, you slowly made your way back to your room on the upper floor. You didn’t want to rush yourself in case you made your wound worse, so you took your time in getting there.

Unfortunately, it was a bit too much time, as you managed to bump into Chishiya who popped out from around the corner. A small panic raised within you; you didn’t want Chishiya to see you like this! It’s embarrassing enough to like someone you had no chance with, but for them to see you stumbling and holding onto the wall because you can’t even keep yourself up? No, not today.

You stood more upright than before, giving Chishiya your best fake smile. “Hey Y/N,” he said, walking past you. You breathed a sigh of relief. Well, that wasn’t too bad.

You started to walk again before you heard Chishiya call out from behind you. “Oh, wait Y/N!”

You turned around, biting your tongue so you didn’t let out a yelp of pain as the skin on your back twisted with your movements. “Yeah?” you acknowledged him.

He gave you a half-hearted smile. “Thanks again, for earlier. I would’ve been a goner if you hadn’t risked your life like that for me,” he said, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. You’ve never seen him thank someone before, so you were shocked.

“Oh, it was no big deal! We should all help each other out, considering we haven’t really got anything else other than each other,” you said, smiling happily. You felt all giddy from him acknowledging the fact that you risked yourself for him.

“Yeah, but it was still pretty cool of you. Even Kuina and Usagi were willing to leave me there,” he chuckled as his own joke.

You laughed and shook your head at him. “I’m sure they were just doing what they thought was best for everyone else in the moment.”

Chishiya nodded and gave you a small wave. “I’ll see you tomorrow night then! Hatter let me know in the meeting this evening that you and I are together again. I’m glad though, because you seem to have the skill and brains to get through some tough games.”

You were flattered by his compliment. “Thanks, you too though! We would have burnt to a crisp if it weren’t for you during that diamond game tonight.”

The small talk was killing you. You just wanted to get back to your room and wallow in the silence that engulfed it. At least there, you could suffer from your burn wound a little louder than out in the public eye of The Beach.

Chishiya laughed at your statement. “No, I’m sure with you there it would’ve been fine,” he said back, making you smile wider.

“I’ll see you later then,” you exclaimed, waving a hand at him. He waved back with a grin on his attractive features before he turned around and continued down the hall with his hands tucked into their usual spot in his hoodie pockets.

You let out a big sigh of relief. That was close. You felt the pain seeping through your body the longer you stood there, hoping for Chishiya to just end the conversation. You felt guilty, it may have looked like you were trying to escape, since you were slowly backing towards the corner. Hopefully, he didn’t notice.

You stumbled the rest of the way towards your room, wincing and hissing in pain on the way. It felt like Ann didn’t do anything at all, but you couldn’t blame her. She had extremely limited resources and could only leave to search for more every few weeks.

When you finally made it to the door of your room, the familiar number engraved onto the middle of it, you gripped the handle and walked inside.

You collapsed onto your bed onto your stomach. There was no way you would be able to sleep on your back with this kind of pain, so you had to resort to either on your side or on your stomach.

Let’s just say, you had a restless sleep.

****************

You were hoping after a night’s sleep that the pain from your back would have disappeared at least a little bit. But you couldn’t have been more wrong. If anything, it had become worse. You probably managed to roll onto it a few times during the night, reopening any part of the wound that had sealed up over the time you’ve had it.

It took you far too long to get out of bed in the morning. You groaned and moaned in frustration as you crawled your way out of the duvet, almost collapsing off your bed. You felt rather pathetic, but who wouldn’t after not being able to do the simplest of tasks from a wound.

As you were walking to your closet to look for something to wear, you remembered you had to go see Ann again that morning. She had told you last night to return to her medical room the next morning so she could reapply a new bandage onto you, in case the other one gets bacteria or blood on it during the night somehow.

You quickly put on your usual swimmers to wear around the hotel and the black hoodie that you wore most of the time when you got cold. You didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing your wound. The gaping burn mark across your upper back was bound to attract unwanted attention.

You made your way down the hall to go see Ann again. There was nobody in the halls around the rooms due to it being close to noon. You slept in longer than you expected.

You slowly walked down the couple of flights of stairs, making your way to Ann’s medical room on the lower floor. The walk down to the lobby felt longer at that moment than it ever had.

You approached the door with the red cross along the front of it, indicating the medical room. You were about to lift your hand to turn the doorknob before you heard a loud voice yell from further down the corridor.

You shifted your eyes and saw none other than Chishiya striding down the hallway with his usual cocky smirk painted across his face. Of course, you had to run into him out of all people.

“Y/N! Wait!” he yelled as he jogged up to you.

You stayed silent, waiting to hear what he had to say. You wanted to ignore him and just walk into the medical room to see Ann to avoid any kind of questioning or suspicion from him, but you knew that would only make him more curious.

“Hey, you alright?” he frowned, questioning you. He reached out to place a gentle hand on your forearm, but you flinched away before he could touch you.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you answered, trying to sound normal. The piercing feeling that your wound brought you began to make its way around your body again, making you slightly shift and shake. ‘Of course, it just has its moment while I’m talking to the one person that I don’t want to look like a weakling in front of,’ you thought to yourself in your head.

Chishiya frowned at your flinch, but seemed to shake it off quickly, moving onto something else. “So anyway, where were you this morning?” he asked, leaning closer to you.

“I-I was in my room. I had a late sleep in,” you said, gripping the doorknob to the medical room.

“Oh, weird. Do you remember what we talked about yesterday?” he said with a smirk on his face.

‘Oh shit, he’s mocking my bad memory,” you thought, feeling embarrassed.

“Um… no? Should I?”

“You, Kuina, Alice, Usagi and I were going to meet up this morning to steal some food from the kitchen and take it to the rooftop. You didn’t show up near the pool where we said we were going to meet!” he exclaimed. He was laughing, obviously not caring too much about your forgetfulness.

You thought for a second. You did recall having that conversation. You guessed that you forgot about it because you were so focused on trying to reduce the pain from your burn. Even if you did remember, as if you would’ve been able to run away from the chefs in the kitchen after taking the food with this injury.

“Me and Kuina even knocked on your door. You must have been really knocked out if you didn’t wake up from Kuina’s loud yelling.”

He then raised his eyebrow and smirked. “Unless you were hiding from me?”

Your could tell he was obviously joking, but he wasn’t far off from being right. That has been your intention since last night, but trust Chishiya to figure you out quickly enough.

You heart rate picked up from his accurate accusation. “Uh, sorry Chishiya, but I really have to go,” you mumbled out, giving him a quick fake smile before walking into the medical room and closing the door behind you.

Chishiya’s mischievous smirk fell from his face. You didn’t even give him a chance to say goodbye, and you seemed oddly nervous from his accusation that you were avoiding him. He felt somewhat hurt. Were you trying to avoid him?

He shook off his suspicions and continued down the corridor to the lobby to find something to entertain him for the meantime. You wouldn’t try to avoid him, would you? Perhaps he’ll confront you about it later.

*************

You were laying in your room reading a book when you heard the usual ring of the bell that was Hatter’s signal for everyone to move down to the lobby to prepare for the night’s games.

“Shit! Is it that late already?” you asked no one, glancing over at the digital clock on your nightstand.

You panicked and saw it was the time that you would head out to games. You said to yourself earlier that you would give yourself an early mark so you could get down there at the right time, considering you would be slow due to your condition, but you got distracted by your book and lost track of time.

You rushed to your feet a little too quickly for your body’s liking, causing the pain of your wound to shoot across your back without mercy, making you yelp in pain and fall forwards.

You managed to catch yourself before you face planted into the ground. You let out a few deep breaths, trying to regain your strength while the piercing pain became worse from your insistence.

You pushed yourself off the ground, placing your foot underneath you and attempting to stand to your feet. You had to make it to the cars at least, you knew if anyone found you at The Beach during game time, they would mark you a coward, or worse: a traitor.

You cursed under your breath and let out pained sobs as you tried to get to your feet again. But unfortunately, your body just wasn’t on your side at that moment.

Your feet gave out underneath you and your head pounded, causing you to feel dizzy and suddenly nauseated. You leant forwards as you emptied the contents of your stomach out onto the floor, gagging on the taste of it in the back of your throat.

Your eyes began to feel heavy, not being able to take the pain and stress you were under. You managed to roll yourself to the side so you wouldn’t land in the pile of vomit and lay yourself across the floor safely before you face planted.

“Fuck,” you rasped out, feeling helpless at that moment.

You couldn’t do anything as your vision narrowed, passing out from pain on the floor of your own room, no one around to help you.

*************

“Hello again everyone! I would like to say a few words before we all get into our groups and drive to our games!”

Hatter’s usual booming voice thrusted across the crowd in front of him. Another night, another gathering. Just like every other day.

Chishiya stood at his usual spot in the back, leaning against the cement wall and rolling his eyes at Hatter’s words. He never seemed to have anything useful to say. Just some preachy words that created false hope.

‘How about for a change, he gave us some advice? It would probably spare some people a few headaches,’ Chishiya thought to himself.

He stood on his toes and tried to search the crowd for the top of your head. He was becoming anxious. You would usually be down in the lobby by now.

He was more nervous due to the way you’ve been acting all day. Usually, you two were joined at the hip twenty-four seven, but the only time he saw you that day was in the morning when you walked into the medical room.

He wondered why you were going in there. You never went to Ann unless it was for something drastic, but you seemed completely healthy and unharmed.

As the time ticked on, Chishiya became more and more worried. You would never skip out on a game; you were too afraid of being caught by the executives for that.

Hatter finished off his nightly speech with the list of groups and which number wristbands go where. Chishiya didn’t even care to pay attention as everyone began making their way towards the entrance of the hotel where they would pile into the cars and drive off to the games. He ran the opposite way, clambering up the flights of stairs to reach the level your room is on. If you had to be anywhere, it would be there.

He powered his legs into a sprint, having to brush his white locks out of his face once or twice due to them getting in the way. He eventually arrived at your room, stopping and panting to regain his breath.

He knocked on your door quietly at first, not knowing if you were asleep or something. “Y/N?” he called out through the door. “We need to head off to the games. Did you not hear the bell?”

When he received nothing but silence as an answer, he took it upon himself to walk in to see if you were there. He opened the door and peeked his head around the side, being careful in case you were indecent for some reason.

As he walked in further, his heart dropped as he saw you laying on the ground passed out.

“Y/N!” he exclaimed, rushing over to your body and kneeling beside you. He lifted your head onto his lap gently and immediately checked your neck for a pulse. A small feeling of relief flowed through him when he felt the beat of your heart on his fingers.

“Oh my god Y/N, what’s happened to you?” he stressed, tapping your cheek with his hand to see if you would wake. He was beginning to become more worried as time ticked on. He glanced over at the clock on your nightstand and saw that it was getting later. He had to wake you up before registration closed for all the games.

He lifted you up from under your arms, using all his strength to pull you into your small bathroom. He placed you gently on the tiled floor, stuffing a towel underneath your head for support. He quickly shifted your body around, trying to look for any source of injury that caused you to pass out. He froze when he noticed a few stains of blood on the back of your hoodie. He quickly lifted the hem of your shirt to see what was causing the stains.

His eyes almost popped out of his head from the sight. He gasped at the huge burn wound on your back, stretching across from your shoulder blades to your waist. The bandage that Ann had wrapped around it had come loose, hanging off your abdomen carelessly. His heart filled with guilt as he examined it more closely. Why didn’t he look after you?

He immediately put two and two together and realized that you had probably passed out from the pain of the burn mark.

He stood up from his position on the floor and grabbed a small cloth from your towel rack, running it under the water from the tap. He knelt back down next to you and carefully placed the wet fabric against your wound. He was so afraid of hurting you, but he had to do what he could to make you better for the game.

“Oh, come on, please wake up Y/N,” he breathed out. Stress and anxiety filled his tone, making the air more tense.

“Please wake up, please be okay. I love you, please don’t die Y/N,” he suddenly felt small tears gathering in his eyes as he stood up quickly to refresh the cloth that he was using to clean the burn.

He felt his hidden feelings begin to pour out of his mouth. He couldn’t handle the strain seeing you like this was having on his emotions.

He brought the cloth back, but this time he turned you over slightly so he could place it on your face. Your eyes were still shut tightly, not showing any indication of opening.

Chishiya ran the fingers of his other hand along your cheek, tapping softly on your skin, hoping that you would wake up from the physical contact. He felt desperate. He has never felt this helpless before, not even in games.

He allowed his few tears to fall down his cheek, lifting your head and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please wake up, we have to go. Just wake up and I’ll take care of you,” he mumbled out with shaky breaths.

He didn’t know what else to do. He could do nothing but hope.

A few minutes passed with Chishiya just holding you and pressing the cold cloth onto your face, trying to make you open your eyes. And eventually you did.

Chishiya breathed in a huge sigh of relief when he saw your eyes flutter open slowly, dazed and confused. He smiled and kept the cloth pressed to your face, caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Oh, thank god,” he breathed out, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and bringing you into his chest for a close hug. You groaned loudly at the contact as Chishiya accidentally placed his hand on your wound.

“Chishiya, be careful,” you rasped out against his chest. He flinched away immediately and apologized.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he said, lifting you up under your arms again. You groaned, not being able to stand up on your own yet. Chishiya kept you close to his chest as you leant against him.

He managed to clean you up with you leaning most of your body weight on him. He helped you wash out your mouth and clean your teeth to get rid of the taste of vomit and reapplied the bandage that had fallen off your wound. He did it all with such care and concern, being afraid of hurting you or overwhelming you with anything.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the games?” you asked after you had finished rinsing your face.

“I noticed you weren’t at the lobby when Hatter called everyone, so I ran to your room and found you,” he answered, fixing your hoodie on your back from when he had to lift it to clean your injury.

“So, everyone’s gone?” you asked with a worried expression. Chishiya nodded, leaning on the sink next to you to check your face to see if you were alright.

“But if they find us, they’ll mark us as traitors!” you exclaimed, fear filling your head.

Chishiya placed his index finger on your lips to shush you. “Shh, only if they can hear us. We can just stay in here and be quiet, and hopefully no one suspects that we’re missing,” he said, smiling to calm you down.

You searched his eyes for any uncertainty but chose to let it go and just listen to him. “Okay.”

You both sat side by side on the floor of your small bathroom, Chishiya running his hand up and down your arm to keep your anxiety away. After a while of comfortable silence, you spoke up.

“Thanks, Chishiya, for helping me. If it weren’t for you, I’d still be lying on the ground next to a pile of my own puke,” you laughed at yourself.

Chishiya giggled. “It’s okay. I care about you Y/N, I couldn’t just leave you there.”

You looked at him with sparkling eyes, being taken back by his statement. “Really?” you asked, not believing him.

He smiled lovingly and caressed your cheek with his fingers. “Of course, I’d do anything if it was to help you.”

You thought you would have a cute moment together, but that flew out the window when Chishiya slapped you lightly across the cheek. Not enough to hurt you, but enough to bring a shocked expression onto your face.

“But next time, tell me when you’re hurt instead of trying to hide it from me like an idiot! You really think you’d be able to hide something like this from me?” he scolded you like a mother, but you giggled at his reaction.

“Yeah, I’ll tell you next time. Why did I ever think I could keep something from someone with an intelligent mind like yours,” you teased, leaning closer to his face.

Chishiya raised his eyebrows. “Hm, thanks, I guess? Not sure if that was a compliment or if you’re poking fun at me.”

You chuckled. “Take it however you want,” you whispered. You finally closed to space between you, allowing your lips to clash against his. Chishiya let out a shocked sound, but quickly melted against you and accepted your kiss.

You both sat on the floor of your bathroom, moving your mouths together while Chishiya tried hard to place his hands on you without touching your burn mark. You appreciated his care, but he ended up having to awkwardly place them on your upper arms, rubbing up and down them slowly.

You pulled away first, making Chishiya chase your lips as you moved away, making you giggle. “There’s my thank you gift,” you said cheekily, leaning away from him and back into your seating position.

Chishiya pouted at you. “That’s it? That was barely a kiss!” he argued, trying to move closer to you, wanting more of your affection.

“Chishiya, your tongue was in my mouth. I think that clarifies as a kiss,” you stated, placing your hand on his mouth and pushing him away gently. “Maybe let down that tough guy persona more often and take care of me, maybe then you’ll get more kisses.”

Chishiya leaned back and frowned. “Fine, but don’t expect this to be the norm now. I’m not going to let you control my personality just for a bit of affection.”

Well, that was a lie.

Author’s Note: Every Chishiya fanfic I’ve written has had some sort of angsty moment in it 😂 this man is going through it

[fruitcoops]

Night Changes

This isn't based on an ask, but I've had some early-Cap ideas brewing and think about the first time the team heard him laugh a lot. His and James' friendship is so sweet in SW--the beginning of it must have been such a shock to them both. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

So maybe James had bitten off more than he could chew. It wasn’t the first time, to be sure, but coaxing (read: drag kicking and screaming) his new teammate out of the carefully-constructed mosaic of scowls that made up his entire personality was proving to be a little more challenging than he previously expected. With most rookies, all it took was some elbow grease and overenthusiastic inclusion in group events to get them to open up—with his brand-new soon-to-be best friend, he had to handle things a little more delicately.

Sirius Black was a puzzle wrapped up in one of those freaky code-breaking machines from World War Two Lily liked to talk about. He was one of the best hockey players James had ever seen, but off the ice he seemed to shut down. The intense focus on his face smoothed out into almost perfect neutrality, and in the four months since he joined the Lions, he had never once smiled for real in front of the team. He sat in his stall and padded up in silence, then went out and kicked ass before following Pascal home like a living shadow.

Naturally, James took it as a personal mission to pry Sirius Black’s closed-off persona open like a stubborn oyster. He tried including Sirius in group events—the rookie went along with a quiet “yeah, sure”, but sat at the table and nursed a single drink for the entire night. He tried getting into friendly banter with him on the ice, but it was like Sirius had never joked with anyone in his life. Hell, he even tried finding him a girlfriend, which tanked harder than the goddamn Titanic.

“Rookie!” James shouted down the hallway.

Sirius jumped and turned around, obviously confused. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” James laughed, jogging over to toss an arm over his shoulders. “What’s up?”

“Not much.”

He waited for Sirius to continue, then rolled his eyes and gave him a friendly shake. “C’mon, man, how was your weekend? Has Dumo coerced you into being a stay-at-home babysitter yet?”

Sirius’ frown deepened. “What? I come with him to practice every day.”

Change tactics, change tactics— “Got any plans for Friday?”

James knew the answer, of course; it was always no or not yet or a simple shake of the head. If he was a less observant man, he would have assumed Sirius didn’t actually want to hang out with the team. But the longing looks toward their easy rhythm and the way he always tilted himself toward locker room conversations told a different story. “None yet,” Sirius said with a shrug.

James gave him a friendly slap on the back. “Good, ‘cause I’m having a party at my place and you’re not allowed to miss it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want you to be there, duh.” The bewilderment didn’t fade from Sirius’ face, but beneath it—well, maybe James was just seeing things, but he looked almost hopeful. He ruffled Sirius’ hair and headed for the locker room. “Friday at five, rookie! I’ll be waiting!”

--

The week passed in a slog of practices and cold weather. Sirius clammed up more and more as the party drew closer, but James didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered between the rest of them like he was analyzing a play. He would make one hell of a captain someday, if he could just relax a little.

“Hey, rookie, want a ride?” he asked when the big day finally arrived.

“Don’t you want to go home and set up first?” Sirius’ brow furrowed. For an eighteen-year-old kid, he was awfully thoughtful. James couldn’t wait to see him let loose a little. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way.”

“It’s a yes or no question,” he teased, poking the bit of exposed shoulder through the widening hole in Sirius’ under armor.

“I…” He faltered, then the corner of his mouth twitched up. It was the closest thing James had seen to a smile from him yet. One point for Potter. “Sure, Pots. Thanks.”

“No problem. Meet me at my car in five or so, yeah?”

“D’accord.”

“Oho, fancy French,” James laughed, turning back to unlace his skates.

It wasn’t until thirty seconds after Sirius left the room that he remembered he never told the rookie what his car looked like. Horrible, terrible visions of the poor guy wandering around the parking lot—or, god forbid, thinking James had left without him—flashed through his mind. It would undo everything he had been working so hard to build.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath as he shoved his gear into his duffel with reckless abandon and hurried out of the locker room. His legs would be stiff from trying to run so soon after a grueling drill practice, but it was worth it to save his friend. “Rookie? Hey, Sirius, you still here?”

There was no response. James cursed again and made a beeline for the door to the parking lot. Please, God, don’t let him get lost. I need him to trust me.

“Oh, thank fuck,” he panted as he burst out onto the half-frozen concrete.

Sirius looked up from his phone with a strange expression. “Are you okay?”

“Thought I lost you for a sec.”

“You said to meet at your car, yes?” He glanced between James and the car in sudden worry.

“Yeah, yes, absolutely, I just—” He made an aborted gesture and dug his keys out of his pocket. “I realized I forgot to tell you which one is mine.”

Sirius blinked at him. “I know what your car looks like.”

“How?”

“Because you drive it here every single day and you gave me a ride three weeks ago.”

‘Dumbass’ went unsaid, but James could feel it hanging in the air. He coughed lightly. “Right. Anyway, you can toss your bag wherever and hop in the passenger seat. My place isn’t far from here.”

Sirius took his duffel as he unlocked the car and settled both in the trunk with more care than James’ poor, battered bag had ever seen in its life. That was another thing that confused him about Sirius Black—he was so careful. He walked quietly for someone so tall, and each movement seemed pre-planned.

Each movement, that is, until he tried to get in the car. “Uh, Pots?”

“That’s m—oh.” James covered his mouth to stifle his laughter as Sirius tried to fold himself into the passenger seat and failed miserably. “I’m sorry, my girlfriend was sitting there last. Uh, there’s a lever on your right—yeah, there, just give it a pull and—”

With a harsh ka-chunk, the seat slid all the way back. Both men froze. It took everything in James’ power not to burst out laughing at the deer-in-headlights shock on Sirius’ face.

“Yep, that one,” he managed. “Nice job.”

They drove in relative quiet—James chattered on about weekend plans and hummed to the radio while Sirius watched out the window with the occasional monosyllable response. It took James a bit by surprise how comfortable he was, even without a steady stream of banter. Sirius might have been stubborn and silent and determined to foil all James’ plans at getting him to socialize, but he was calming to be near, like an anchor on unsteady water. Despite his overall quiet air, he was obviously paying attention to every word that left James’ mouth.

“You’re a good guy, y’know that?” he said as they turned onto his street. Sirius glanced over in surprise. “Most people tune me out within, like, five minutes.”

“I’m a good listener.”

James opened his mouth to respond, then paused. “Was that—Sirius Black, was that a joke?”

Something akin to mischief—mischief!—crossed his face. “Maybe.”

“Were you roasting me?” James gaped at him. “Oh my god. The guys are never gonna believe this.”

“Probably not.”

“You sick bastard. They won’t believe me.”

“You can give it a shot,” Sirius said with a shrug as the engine turned off. Pieces began to connect in James’ head as he stared, incredulous, at the rookie he thought would never even crack a smile. Four months of work had not been wasted, as he had feared; every joke, every one-sided conversation, and every attempt to get Sirius involved had been seen and heard and taken to heart. When he thought about it, he wasn’t sure he had ever seen Sirius actively agree to something unless James asked personally.

“We’re friends,” he said aloud, too surprised and too happy to hold it in. Not friends in the way James was with the rest of their loud, over-the-top teammates, but friends all the same.

“Well, yeah,” Sirius said as if it was obvious.

James unbuckled his seatbelt and socked him lightly on the shoulder, barely suppressing a shriek of excitement. “Love you, man. Grab your shit, we’ve got a party to set up.”

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

As much as it pained James to say it, having someone around who was six-foot-three was a huge help. There was no blow to his pride as he dragged Lily’s stepstool out; no grudging acceptance that he simply couldn’t reach those last two inches on the wall. Instead, he could foist any and all responsibility on his brand-new best friend in the whole wide world and focus on the things that mattered, like putting anything breakable or important far away from the grubby hands of his inebriated teammates.

His success was still ringing in his ears when the guests finally arrived—throughout the evening, James rode the high of accomplishing his mission to pull Sirius Black into his tight-knit circle. Every minute of those four months was worth it.

Midnight came and went, and by one-thirty in the morning James’ cramped living room was packed with tipsy hockey players in a vague imitation of a circle. “Non, non, I’ve gotta good one,” Dumo said, hiccupping. The room fell quiet as he leaned forward. “What do you call a body of water with a chicken in it?”

“What?” Kasey whispered, starry-eyed like a kid at Christmas.

“A swimming pool.”

The room stayed quiet, and then someone started to laugh. Slowly, they all turned to the source of the noise, and James felt a ripple of shock roll through the team as Sirius snorted. “It’s a swimming pool,” he said around a smile, his accent thick from three drinks. He had a nice laugh; James could get used to hearing it. “Like—poule, like chicken?”

His whole face was alight with happiness. James wasn’t sure whether to cry or cheer. That’s what I’ve been waiting for, he thought. That look, right there. Sirius fit in among the group like a missing piece of their puzzle, snickering away as if he hadn’t been stoically silent a day in his life. His laugh was downright bubbly.

“I don’t think they get it,” Dumo said into the rim of his cup.

Sirius shook his head, trying to catch his breath. “D’accord, so—so ‘chicken’ in French is poule, yeah? So a chicken in a body of water is a swimming poule. Do you get it now?”

A few oh’s of understanding washed over them, but several people continued to stare. “Too drink for this,” Sergei grumbled, though James could see the smile pulling at his mouth as Sirius turned to him with bright eyes.

“But it’s funny!” Sirius protested, so earnest it made James’ heart hurt.

“I think it’s funny, rookie,” he assured him with a clumsy pat on the arm. “And it’s my house, so I say Dumo gets a point this round.”

Kasey hiccupped. “Hey, anyone who makes the rookie laugh gets points in my book. No offense, dude.”

“None taken,” Sirius said, though his cheeks were pink.

James nudged him with his shoulder as Talker started a knock-knock joke. “It’s okay,” he said under his breath.

Sirius picked at the label on his cup. “I know I haven’t been very social,” he muttered.

“It’s okay,” James insisted. “It always takes rookies a while to warm up, so we’re just glad you’re happy. I’m glad my best friend is having a good time at my party.”

A heavy silence fell between them as Sirius looked over, eyebrows raised. “Best friend?”

“What, like you didn’t see this coming?” James slung an arm over his shoulder. “Yes, you French-Canadian nerd, you’re my best friend. And that means I’m your best friend, and there’s no take-backsies.”

“What the hell is a take-backsie?” Sirius laughed. “Did you make that up?”

James grinned. He had the feeling this was the beginning of an excellent friendship.

[calumxkisses]

Sweet Creature | c.h.

pairing: calum hood x reader

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: i think implied smut?

summary: request - Heeyyy, can you do one, where they have a big fight and they are in quarentine, and they stop talking to each other, and the sleep in different rooms, with cal... kiss from brazil 🇧🇷

a/n: this is one of my favorite song! let me know what you think about it! i hope you enjoyed it ;)

you should read this imagine while listening to: sweet creature

➳

“What the hell is wrong with you?” a scream comes out of your lungs. Your face has turned red, your head hurts and you feel your heart pounding. Your throat is now dry and you feel your nails sticking into the palm of your hand.

What Calum notices, however, are the tears running down your face and the pain behind your eyes. What hurts him the most, though, is knowing he is the cause of your pain. He would like to hug you, tell you that he is sorry, that he loves you and that he doesn't even remember why you are fighting, but his pride prevents him from being the person he would like to be. The person you are in love with.

“All you do is whine.” he screams out, rolling his eyes and letting out a snort.

This discussion was the straw that broke the camel's back, filled by being forced to stay at home, by a canceled tour and canceled parties but, above all, by the concern of a world that is in chaos, with a fatal virus that spreads like wildfire.

He is worried, he feels the burden of not having to disappoint anyone, of being a good person who says the right things, of being a child who cares about their parents who live on the other side of the world and cannot go to visit, reassure, and that he can only see through a mobile phone screen.

“I have a right to be angry, you know that, right?” Your voice calms down a bit, but anger still runs through your veins. You walk up and down the room, with one hand on your forehead and being careful not to step on the broken glass of the fallen vase.

Calum has spent the last few weeks in the studio, out in the garden practicing, or locked in a room, anywhere but with you. He preferred to wake up early and go to sleep late, feel cold instead of holding you and skipping meals to avoid being with you.

For the first time in days, you get a good look at him: his hair has grown, as has the beard surrounding his face, he has terrible dark circles and the vein on his neck comes out prosperous, underlining how much he is screaming.

You felt abandoned, alone, left on the sidelines, and your feelings were amplified by the impossibility of going to someone, just to escape from that situation, to be held by someone else or just to talk over a coffee with a friend.

The only thing you could have done, was to ask him why, what you had done to deserve such treatment, and to spend some time together. And that’s where the scream started.

Tears roll down your face and you run your hand under your eyes to wipe them away. If you didn't notice them before, now the pinch caused by their wake has become hard to ignore.

“Are you going to cry now? God, you’re making me regret being with you. I really wish you weren’t born.”

Calum feels the pain it caused you before even reading the expression on your face. He puts his hand in front of his mouth in hopes of being able to block the words, but they have already left his lips and have come straight into your ears, getting stuck under your skin and breaking even the last pieces of the broken heart you have left.

His words hit you like a bolt from the blue. Arguing often leads to saying unthinkable words and among all the things you've been yelling at each other in the last hour, some bad words have certainly escaped, but nothing so terrible.

You feel a pain in your chest never felt before, deep and intense, and even the tears stop flowing. You inhale deeply, seeking relief in a breath of air and waiting for your body to react in any way, all is better than feeling full of pain. The room starts spinning, your head feels full and empty at the same time, and your legs struggle to bear the weight of your body.

Calum carefully scans your face, looking for any reaction from you to understand how much your mind has absorbed his words. His stress, his worries have led him to be a different person and the fear that you may leave him has terrified him, but his insecurities have done the opposite of what one expects, making he walk away from you and treating you coldly, and now he fears that he is really on the verge of being alone, with his broken heart in his hands, ready to mend every wound himself.

You didn’t deserve this.

“I can’t do this anymore. Not with you.” You whisper, lifting your face and looking him straight in the eye. The words he used, the coldness of his tones and the loneliness in which he left you have piled on top of each other on your chest, making it difficult for you to even breathe. You need time, space, whatever helps you figure out what to do.

“What do you mean?” He asks in a shaky voice. His eyes are glossy, his hands are shaking and his face has lost color. His heart carries so much goodness and you know it wasn't his intention to hurt you, but his words were like stab wounds and you need to take care of them now.

You don't want to leave, and not because you can't take a plane, but because Calum means too much to you and leaving is not an option to consider. If it ever ends up between you, after all you've been through, it should be in a more dignified way and not because of a stupid fight and insincere words.

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room for a while and then we’ll see what to do.” Is all you can say and all you can do.

“So you’re not leaving?”

“I don’t think so, at least not now.”

Silence.

And that silence means everything and nothing.

You pick up the pieces of your shattered heart and, after casting one last look at the boy in front of you, you take refuge in a room that doesn't belong to you. The air in the guest room is different, you can't breathe the love that characterizes every corner of yours and Calum's and even the sheets seem different, cold, painful. You put a hand through your hair and lean on the door, slowly sliding towards the floor and letting go of your frustration.

Calum closes his eyes and puts his hands to his face as his body slumps onto the sofa behind him. The house reigns in silence, the only audible sound is your sobs in another room and, before he knows it, he starts crying too. He doesn't care about wiping his face or stopping the moans that come out of his mouth, he deserves to feel awful and humiliate himself like that, the guilt is devouring him and he just thinks about how he wishes he could disappear, to make your life easier.

When you first met, he knew you were the right person from the first look you gave him. Behind your eyes, deep in the irises, there was a whole world, made of kindness, love and joy. You had your demons, but the strength you emanated made it clear that you were able to overcome them, even without knowing it. A world that he wanted to discover, with delicacy and patience, and in which he wanted to live.

But what he feared most was bringing darkness into the light you emanated, turning your smiles into tears and your heart into a mass of sharp pieces.

He had told you, while you were eating some heated pizza on a rainy morning, your legs were on his and your face on his shoulder. And you had caressed his face, wiping away the dirt on his lip with your thumb, assuring him that you would have love him anyway and that you would have happily shared some of your light, and then you had kissed him, and that kiss tasted like tomato sauce and love, a combination you still love with all your heart.

And now, the only thing he can do, besides pitying himself, is wondering if you're regretting sharing your joy with him, if you'd rather stay full of light instead of welcoming his demons. And he fears your answer is yes.

Duke rubs his face on his leg, asking for scratches but also showing his affection. He doesn't know what happened and Calum wonders if the dog, who loves you more than any other person has crossed the threshold of your home, would look at him differently knowing that he broke the heart of the person he loves most.

If so, as his mind is trying to convince him, he couldn't handle it. He would not be able to live knowing that he has let down another being he cares about. Because he cares about you, but it is difficult for him to show it, the fear of rejection is stronger than he would like.

So, he lowers himself a little and gently strokes the dog, hoping to be able to receive that affection he is so afraid of losing.

As Calum's world shatters before his eyes, you take care to gently reassemble what's left of yours. You're still on the floor, getting up takes too much energy and a motivation that you can't find.

How you feel about the guy down the hall cannot be described in words, there is no way to describe what his gaze makes you feel, the way his words reassure you or how his love warms your heart up. It just works like this. Your love does not need big gestures or difficult words and never like now, it is better to absorb the silence and be lulled by the air.

Perhaps it would have been better to remain silent, let the cold of his words slip on you and learn to live in the loneliness in which he left you, but you couldn't go on like this. Not fighting would have meant not caring about him or your relationship and that's exactly the opposite of how things are. He had to know how you felt and what you were missing.

The sweet sound of his voice or the warmth of his skin are essential for you, not only on a love level, but in the daily routine of your life. A routine that had changed, which was no longer full of joy and smiles, light and perfume, but of demons that wandered undeterred around the walls of your home, ready to bring the cold into your souls.

And that routine, once full of love, was now non-existent. No more words had been said between you, no meal had been eaten together and your bed had forgotten what love meant. The stars, ever present witnesses of the passion that surrounded your bodies, were now always absent, covered by gray clouds and black skies. Even the moon, which guards all lovers, shone with a paler and more blurred light.

The moon gave way to the sun, the grass grew and the days alternated on the calendar. And yet, it seemed to you that you were still still that afternoon. Sure, breathing had become less difficult and the tears had stopped flowing on your face, but even in the middle of spring the coldness brought chills on your body.

You have no idea what he is doing, occasionally you see the shadow of his shoes behind the door of the guest room or you hear broken melodies coming from the studio, but his face becomes more and more unknown.

You spend your days studying, working, playing with Duke or reading your favorite books. You wake up late and go to sleep early, hoping to feel less lonely.

The truth, however, is that you miss him immensely, like water in the desert or milk after eating spicy food. You need to be able to get lost in his eyes or just hold his hand. The headache meds don't work like his kisses on your forehead, and no number of blankets could bring you the same warmth that a hug from him gives off.

You feel so pathetic to need him by your side, but after so many years of loneliness, he was able to convince you that you were worthy of being loved just like everyone else and, specifically, that he would love you more than anyone else. And he had done it, always and anyway, for the sake of the joyful news and the bad of your depression, he had always been there, ready to show you that you were worth it.

He wants to do it, he wants to continue to hold you and to tell you how beautiful you are, how honored he feels to be the keeper of your heart and the champion of your love, but he believes that no apology would bring serenity to your sky.

What is he supposed to do? No words would express the humiliation he feels whenever he thinks back to your fight and his behavior, no hug or kiss would bring love into your broken heart.

He spent his nights awake, the insomnia caused by his thoughts was making it impossible for him to live. The table seemed too big and the bed too uncomfortable, the bass was always out of tune even as he spent hours adjusting its strings and no melody seemed catchy enough to lift your mood in the other room. He knew that when you were sick, listening to him play brought some peace to your troubled world, but now no sound would chase the bad weather away.

None of his gestures would be enough to show how bad he feels. Nothing can express the pain he feels and the regret of his words.

However, 3 years of relationship is enough for him to know what makes you smile. There is one song in particular, in the immense repertoire that is your music library, that you love to hum and listen to when the silence is too loud.

So, wearing his best shirt and trying to fix the clump of his hair, he sits down at the piano in the living room and, after taking a deep breath, he tries to voice his thoughts.

Sweet creature

Had another talk about where it's going wrong

But we're still young

We don't know where we're going

But we know where we belong

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

It's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

As you put down your favorite book after reading it again, Calum's sweet, broken voice spreads throughout the house, bringing a sense of comfort to your heart. You can hear the pain behind his voice, and even though you know your wounds will take some time to heal, the words he screamed at you lose their value. One part of you is still angry but the other, curious and in love, wastes no time getting you out of bed and walking towards the room.

The piano overlooks the garden, the sun shines above and illuminates all the plants. Duke is chasing a butterfly, its tail wags quickly and some leaves are stuck in its fur. Calum has his back to you, his back leaning slightly forward as he looks outward, but his mind wanders somewhere else.

You lean on the door jamb that separates the two rooms and close your eyes, letting yourself be carried away by the music and breathing regularly, giving your body respite from all the accumulated stress.

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

Sweet creature

We're running through the garden

Oh, where nothing bothered us

But we're still young

I always think about you and how we don't speak enough

Calum watches the garden as the lyrics of the song automatically come out of his mouth. He was never good at playing the piano but, during the nights spent away from you over the years, he promised himself to learn all your favorite songs so he could sing them to you whenever you needed them.

And while Duke rolls around in the grass, he can't help but think about the thousand picnics you had on that same lawn, the laughter you shared and all those moments when he always fell in love a little more looking at you.

And even if the song doesn't belong to him, he can still feel every single word and a small tear falls down his face.

And oh we started

Two hearts in one home

I know, it's hard when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You take a few steps forward and, after taking a deep sigh, sit next to him. Calum winces at the contact but his face turns into a big smile after seeing you. He doesn't know if you're still mad at him or if his singing worked, but being able to see you again after so many days spent in agony brings a sense of peace to his messed up world. He knows that this song is not enough, that he will have to prove a lot more to you - even if you will probably forbid it - but knowing that he has you there, frees him from a weight that he carried inside.

And as usual, there is no need for words, he just needs to feel your head resting on his shoulder to know that you have come back to him. And when your hands touch his, he feels at home again.

Almost automatically, your hands begin to move to the rhythm of the music and your fingers touch the keys of the piano, accompanying Calum in the melody, just as he taught you.

Duke is rolling in the grass, the butterfly now forgotten, and his happy face is illuminated by the sun. It seems that the sky has returned to shine too, not just your eyes, and the pieces of the puzzle fit together perfectly again.

I know when we started

Just two hearts in one home

It gets harder when we argue

We're both stubborn

I know, but oh

Sweet creature, sweet creature

Wherever I go, you bring me home

Sweet creature, sweet creature

When I run out of road, you bring me home

You'll bring me home

There was no need to talk to him, or to explain, risking losing you was necessary for him to understand that something was wrong, that he had to find the right path, that you can risk skidding, the important thing is getting back on track.

“I am grateful to your mother for bringing you into the world, but even more grateful to you for being a part of my life. I'm sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it. I love you and I always will.” He whispers, placing his hands on his thighs, as soon as he finishes singing the last words. His words are sincere, you can perceive the displeasure behind his tone and you know he believes what he says.

He kisses you on the forehead and, taking your hand in his and squeezing it, he rests his face on your head, closing his eyes and absorbing the silence, a cautious silence, full of peace and fresh air.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, closing your eyes in turn and letting yourself be lulled by the peace and serenity found. You know that everything will be fine, that even if you’ll have other fights, you will always find a way to get back to each other.

-

[appplepii]

tears over beers (jean kirschtein x fem!reader)

genre: angst w a happy ending, fluff, modern au

warnings: unprotected sex, mouth spitting, praise kink kinda?? choking, etc VERY NSFW hehe, fuckboy eren (slight eren x reader), mentions of alcohol and drug use

word count: 4.1k

summary:

     You don’t know your own worth, and Jean is getting sick of it.

     Jean remembers the first time he ever laid eyes on you. He remembers the way his stomach flipped when you sat in the empty seat next to him and introduced yourself, a kind smile on your face. He also remembers the moment Eren walked in and caught your eye, and the dread that laid heavy in his chest when your cheeks grew pink. Despite the fact you had just met, he couldn’t help but have distain for the boy the moment he smiled back at you, causing you to become shy and flustered. Why weren’t you nervous to talk to him?

     That’s a question the boy came to ask himself more times than he would ever admit, despite the fact that it’s been years. You and Jean had become a constant for each other, someone that was always there no matter what happened, or how much time passed. It was no question that you had become his best friend (except Marco, of course). There were certain things keeping you together that had Jean convinced it was fate keeping you in his life, from the moment you had graduated high school and decided to go to the same college that was hours away, to you working at his favorite coffee shop near the campus. That philosophy was not a strong willed one, being shot down every time you would tell him about a certain boy you were still hung up on. It was times like that that Jean thought maybe you in his life was a sort of punishment. What did he do to deserve the feeling of having what you want most in life in arms reach and never getting it?

     Years had passed at this point though, and Jean got used to the feeling of pretending he didn’t care. It got easier over time, the boy had become accepting of his fate. He was, and always will be the best friend. It was a little hard on his pride, but it definitely beats not having you in his life at all. That’s why Jean thought he would be fine when he accepted the invite to Marco’s party in which the entire friend group had been invited. A part of him was excited, knowing it had been awhile since the last reunion. Another part of him thought about the fact that he would be there, and he felt frustration slowly build inside him.

     “Ah, I’m so excited! It’s been a minute since we’ve seen everyone, huh?” The smile on your face made up his mind, knowing he could never say no to you. Jean chuckled and shook his head “Yeah yeah, it should be better than staying in that cramped dorm room doing homework” You furrowed your eyebrows, halfheartedly pushing his arm. “Oh shut up, not everyone has a mommy who can pay for a nice big apartment on this side of town.” You snickered, and Jean froze up, redness rising to his cheeks. “S-shut up! She has nothing to do with this, plus you know I’ve invited you to move in how many times now? I have an extra room that just sits empty, you know.” You shook your head and smiled “You know that my part-time job is not enough to cover rent and bills, Jean”. It was at this point Jean dropped the conversation, knowing he was fighting a lost cause. He tried explaining to you many times before he would let you stay for free, and Jean realized just how much you dislike charity work, even if it was never that to him.

     “Anyway, are you ready yet? We’re gonna be late now.” Jean ranted, looking up at the ceiling and scratching the back of his head. “Yes, you can stop complaining you loudmouth.” You bent over and put on your heel, standing back up and flattening out the wrinkles in your clothes. It was then Jean had taken a proper look at you, taking in the nicest outfit he had seen you wear in a long time, albeit quite revealing. His eyes trailed up your bare legs, and he could feel himself go slightly weak in the knees. You really were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He cleared his throat, bringing his gaze back up to your face (though unable to look you in the eyes). “Okay, we can take my car.” He grabbed his keys from the kitchen counter, opening the front door and waiting for you to walk out first. Jean’s attention was brought back to you when he noticed your hesitation. His face grew a curious expression as he looked at you expectedly. “y/n? Are you-” “Are you sure I look okay? I mean.. Eren is gonna be there, do you think he’ll like my outfit?” Your eyes were glued to the ground, and your blush had become apparent as you played with your fingers.

     Jean swallowed, pushing the dreadful and nauseous feeling from the fact you had been thinking about him down. He knew you had kept Eren in mind, but he wished he could ignore it just a little longer. “You look amazing, anyone who would pass up the chance to have you is a fucking idiot, y/n.” It was at this moment you made eye contact with the boy, the gentle smile he saw when he first met you making itself visible. “Thank you, Jean. I really couldn’t ask for a better friend.” Although you had meant it as a compliment to him, all it seemed to do was twist the knife he had in his stomach for so many years that much deeper. All he could bring himself to do was smile and nod, gesturing for you to go out the door to the car.

     He unlocked the doors to his blacked out Camaro, the top coming down to reveal black leather seats (his favorite birthday present, that car was his baby.). After opening the door for you, something he had made a habit of these past years, he got into the drivers seat. Putting the car in drive, you connected your phone to Bluetooth. He always let you play the music whenever you drove together. “Ooo, I have to turn this up!” You said enthusiastically, pushing the system in his car to its limit as you screamed the lyrics and danced. Jean let his eyes leave the road for a moment to glance at you, his heart swelling at the way your hair flew around you face from the wind. He really did have it bad when it came to you.

     “Okay, I’m pretty sure this is Marco’s new place. Should we head in now?” He asked, taking the keys out of the ignition and turning to stare at you. You heaved in a deep breath before fixing your hair in the mirror, and nodding to the boy. “Yeah, let’s go.” He said nothing as he got out of the car, immediately going to your door and opening it. That was something you had to get used to, you didn’t like to feel like you were of some importance. You let it go though, once you saw how insistent he was on doing it, ranting about how he had to be a gentleman or something like that. You grabbed the hand he offered out to you, standing up and walking to the front door of the home.

     Jean didn’t bother knocking, instead opening up the front door and walking in like he owned the place. This didn’t surprise you though, besides yourself Marco was Jean’s closest friend. The two were like brothers and you knew Jean was excited to see him after so long. “Jean! I missed that stupid face, how are you, loser?” Ymir hooked an arm around the boy’s neck, clearly already slightly intoxicated. Jean let out a string of cuss words, wrestling out of the tall girl’s strong grip as you turned your attention to her much smaller girlfriend, Historia. “Hey Historia! It’s been awhile, huh?” You smiled at the girl. She had always been so sweet, and you thought her and Ymir balanced each other out perfectly. “It has! Although it doesn’t look like those two have changed much.” You laughed at the pair and how ridiculous they looked before turning your attention to the kitchen.

     “Jean,” you tugged on this sleeve “will you come with me to get some drinks?” You didn’t let him answer, knowing it would be a yes. He silently followed you to the kitchen, smirking at himself when he realized how assertive you had become, especially when you used to be so shy. You began pouring yourself a shot of vodka, “Damn, this early?” Jean laughed as you shrugged your shoulders before downing the drink, wiping your lips on the back of your hand. “Look, we gotta get the night started somehow, right?” You raised your eyebrow as you held out the next shot you poured to his face. He gave you a smug expression, knowing you were challenging him although he has proven on more than once occasion that he can out-drink you. He kept quiet though, and threw the shot back with ease. You smiled at him, each of you taking one more just to get started.

     “Oh shit, when did you get here dude?” Marco stepped into his kitchen, going straight to Jean and did a simple handshake. “Not too long ago. Anyway, look at you! Got this big ass place all to yourself, huh?” Marco shook his head and laughed, not good at taking praise. The two friends talked for awhile, Jean feeling himself relax with the slight buzz from the alcohol. It had been only a couple minutes the conversation lasted, you talking a little when you had been mentioned. Jean’s attention was pulled from Marco when he saw you tense up from the corner of your eye, noticeably becoming more shy than you previously were. His gaze followed yours, when he was met with the one thing he really hoped not to see. 

     Eren sat on the couch, leaning back into with his arms spread out against the back of it, a beer in his hand as he occasionally took drinks from it. Your stomach turned when you saw him because fuck, he looked really good. His black long-sleeve and jeans were simple, but maybe it was the bun he had in his hair that made you almost start drooling. It took everything in Jean’s power not to let out a scoff at how obvious you were being, and how stupid the entire situation was. “Just stop, Jean. It’s not worth it. She doesn’t want you.” His own thoughts definitely brought down his happy mindset, trying his best to ignore the sympathetic look Marco was giving him. 

     He watched as Eren’s eyes met yours, his smile growing as he gestured you over to sit next to him. You got impossibly redder as you nodded and smiled, looking up at Jean and silently asking if he was okay on his own. He didn’t hold back his scoff at that, waving you off. “These are my friends too, remember? I’ll be fine, go ahead.” Your smile widened as you immediately turned and bee-lined to where Eren was sitting. The pain Jean felt had a sort of sick nostalgia to it, reminding him of the day he witnessed the blush on your face when Eren had walked through the door. Taking a deep breath and clapping his hands together, he feigned the most convincing smile he had and turned towards Marco.

“I need another shot!”

     “So what was that about?” Eren laughed lowly, tilting his head toward Jean after you took the seat he offered. “Huh? What do you mean?” You questioned, completely oblivious to what he was hinting at. “You looked like you were asking him for permission to sit with me or something, he isn’t your boyfriend or anything right?” You didn’t know why, but this comment slightly annoyed you. Maybe it was the condescending tone he put on, or the subtle diss to your best friend. You didn’t know, but it didn’t sit right. Shrugging it off you decided he probably didn’t mean in that way and you put on a smile. “Nah, I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t ditching him. He’s my best friend.” Eren gave an exaggerated sigh of relief as a smug expression took over his features. “Well, that sure is a relief.” He says smoothly, putting a hand on your knee.

     You felt nothing but confusion when you didn’t get butterflies, but another hint of annoyance. What is wrong with you? You’ve liked Eren for years, this should be a dream come true! But it wasn’t, and things were moving too fast for you at the moment. It’s not like you were a “prude” or anything, you just couldn’t push down the bad feeling you had in your gut. “Uh haha, yeah! Can you give me a sec? I really have to use the bathroom!” Eren assured it was no problem, and you quickly stood up causing his hand to slip off of your knee. You walked a little faster than you normally would to the bathroom, turning and locking the door behind you. You felt nothing but frustration toward yourself, why are you being this way? Before this moment, if Eren would have asked you to hook up, you thought you would have gladly said yes. You enjoyed texting him and you found him very attractive, so what is this dread?

     You fixed your hair and outfit as much as you could, trying to freshen up before you go back into the crowded living room. On your way back to the couch where you were sitting, you decided to stop at the kitchen and take two more shots. Maybe it was your nerves and the anticipation that caused your hesitation, the alcohol should help with that. Taking a deep breath, you readied yourself and headed back to your spot. Turning your gaze to where Eren had been, you froze. There he was, with a random girl sitting on his lap as he whispered in her ear.

-

     Jean sighed, stepping into the guest bedroom and sitting on the bed. He ran his hands through his hair and silently cursed himself. He wanted to have fun, he really did. But the moment he saw that flustered expression of yours from Eren’s presence, all he wanted to do was go home and feel bad for himself. His thoughts were racing, and it was probably the alcohol but he found himself becoming more angry than sad. Why didn’t you want him? He deserved you, he had always been there and he knows he could treat you so much better than that douchebag ever could. You deserve better, and fuck, so does he.

     The sound of the door being pushed open broke him out of his thoughts, and he was more than surprised to see you entering. He could already tell you were upset, he just couldn’t put his finger on the reason why. “Weren’t you with-” “I go to the bathroom for two minutes and he immediately starts trying to get into another girl’s pants? Can you believe that? I mean honestly” You continued your rant to Jean, but it was falling on deaf ears. He was getting more and more frustrated, the feeling settling in his bones as he tried to calm himself down. “I mean we aren’t dating, but all of our friends saw me sitting with him, you know how stupid he made me look? I just-” Jean whipped his head at you, a sharp glare meeting your gaze. “You want me to be real with you, y/n? He didn’t make you look stupid. You do that yourself pretty well.” The room went dead silent. You considered for a moment he was messing with you, and you let out a laugh of disbelief. “Jean what the fuck-” He stood up from his spot, his glare only hardening.

     “No! Just stop for a second. I’m so sick and tired of you fucking complaining to me when it’s you who chooses to settle for assholes who obviously don’t care about you. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re just a fucking idiot. But I know you’re not, and thats what frustrates me so much, you know that? You treat yourself like shit and then want me to be there to be the person who makes you feel better. I can’t do it anymore, I really can’t.” His voice had risen a little, but that wasn’t what got to you. It was the seriousness in his tone, you knew he was being genuine. Your eyes welled up with tears, feeling like you just got punched. “Jean, I-”

     “Let me finish y/n. I have always been there for you. Always. Despite the fact that you never got over Eren. Every time he ghosted you, who was there? You know what that’s like? To watch the person you’ve been in love with for years settle for the first asshole who comes her way? Do you have any idea what that does to me? You do realize you’ve been fucking torturing me for the last four years, right?” Your mouth went completely dry, and for the first time since this conversation began, you looked him in the eyes and felt even worse when you saw the glassiness of them. Your breath got shallow as your emotions intensified, your mind racing of all the times you had literally cried on his shoulder, and you thought of how bad he must have been hurting. He kept it to himself for your sake, not wanting you feel upset or worry about him, and you never noticed a thing. Fuck, how could you have been so selfish?

     You didn’t even think about it, your body moving on what felt like autopilot when you grabbed the boy by his collar and pulled him into a kiss. He stiffened, obviously very surprised at your action, before putting his hands on your shoulders and pulling back. His face was a cherry red when he searched your features, shaking his head with a sad expression. “y/n, I don’t want you to do this out of pity. Plus, you’re probably shit-faced right now.” You shook your head and put your hands on his wrists, keeping eye contact with him. “I’m only buzzed Jean, and this isn’t out of pity. A part of me has always loved you. I just have a habit of ruining things in my life and I really didn’t want you to be one of them.” Your eyes got impossibly wetter and a part of you was surprised they hadn’t fallen down your cheeks yet.

     Jean remained silent for what seemed like hours as he examined you expression. His eyes softened and you heart stopped when his hand went to the back of your neck to pull you into another heated kiss. It was a natural reflex the way you gripped onto the front of his shirt, your heart beating at a race you didn’t even know was possible. “Damn, he's a good kisser.” you thought to yourself. You gasped slightly at the feeling of his tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You deepened the kiss and fell back on the bed, pulling him down with you. He pulled away, breathing heavily when a smile grew on his face. “Where are you?” He got up from his position on top and walked to the door, turning the lock with a click. He stalked back to where you were sitting, standing between your legs as he towered over you. “I’ve waited for this for years, I’m not going to wait any longer.”

      Excitement bubbled in your stomach as you looked up at him, a slight pout to your lips. Jean reached his hand down to your face, squeezing both of your cheeks to even further tilt your gaze towards him. “How about it then, pretty girl? Wanna have some fun?” You didn’t hesitate to respond, trying your best to nod in his tight grip. “Yes, please Jean, please.” Although your voice was a little muffled, Jean got the message loud and clear. He gave a soft smile, furthering his hand down to lightly squeeze your throat instead. “Okay then, open wide angel.” You felt a little confused but listened anyway, opening your mouth wide for the boy above you. “What is he gonna-” your thoughts were cut off when you watched, almost in slow motion as Jean leaned over and spit into your open mouth. You froze for a fraction of a second, your mind racing as the excitement grew within you. That’s not what you were expecting but you were not complaining. Jean’s long index finger tilted your chin up, closing your mouth as he kept eye contact with you. “Swallow.” He said in a gentle yet demanding tone, and you knew you couldn’t make yourself say no to him. You swallowed the spit slowly, choosing to keep quiet and wait for his next move.

     “Look at you, such a good girl.” he pushed your body further up the bed so you were laying rather than sitting and once again hovered over you. “Gonna have to thank you for that, huh?” You squeezed your thighs together at his words, anticipation growing impossibly higher. He sat back on his calves, sitting between your legs as he spread them apart around him. His fingers ghosted up your legs, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He didn’t move an inch after that, looking at you expectedly. “Well, I’m waiting? You know all good girls ask nicely, right?” He couldn’t stop the smug expression from taking over even if he tried. You squirmed in his hold, desperate for some sort of contact. “Please Jean, I can’t wait anymore. I need you.” You closed your eyes as you felt him unbutton your shorts, sliding them off with ease along with your panties. “Gotta make sure you’re comfortable baby, tell me if it hurts, kay?” He slowly entered a finger inside you, his thumb circling around your clit slowly. Your lip was pulled in between your teeth as you bit down hard enough to almost draw blood. “Oh, fuck.” He softly laughed at that, going slightly faster to elicit more reactions from you. “That’s right baby, lemme hear you, yeah?” You didn’t hold back, letting out a moan knowing the music blasting outside would drown it out. Jean added another finger and your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you had never felt bliss like this before.

     “E-enough Jean.” You let out through strained breaths, and Jean felt himself grow cold for second with fear. Fuck, were you regretting this? “I don’t want to wait anymore, I want you inside me. Please.” Jean’s chest filled with relief as he shook his head at you. “You needy baby, alright, I’ll give you what you want.” Jean pulled his fingers out of you, and stuck them in your mouth with no hesitation. “You sure you ready for me, sweet girl?” He pulled his pants and boxers off, lining himself up with you. You nodded frantically, putting your hands on his shoulders and pulling him down for a kiss. Jean pushed himself into you, pulling away from the kiss to let out a deep groan as his head fell onto your shoulder. “Fuck, you feel so good around me baby. You’re so good for me, you know that? I’ve wanted this for so long and it’s more than I could have ever imagined.” He ranted on almost senselessly as he was overwhelmed with emotion. “I love you so much, sweet girl. So so much.” You felt tears prick your eyes, from both the pleasure and his sentiment. “I love you Jean, I love you.” those words had more of an affect on him than anything else you said that night, and he felt himself coming close to the edge. “I think I’m gonna-” “Me too baby” he interrupted, placing his hand back on your throat and squeezing. “Cum with me, angel.” His words and the pressure on your neck was enough to send you over, raking your nails down his back leaving marks. He collapsed on top of you, his head resting in your neck as a tired smile rested on his face. You brought your hand up to scratch his scalp, completely fuck-drunk and forgetting of anything else that happened prior to this moment.

     “So that’s why you always open my car door for me, huh?”

✧༺☆༻∞

omg omg im so nervous to post this, not only is it my longest fic but this is the first time i have ever written anything remotely smutty before😳 if its not good pls be patient w me i am very new to this hehe