#Not shading anyone I promise its just something I noticed when clicking through hairs

[kosmokhaos]

Sim hairs come in two varieties:

Like this

Or like this

There is rarely any in between 🤣

[mint-yooxgi]

Rumours - Yandere!Fuckboi!Lucas X Reader

Yandere AU

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Smut (Masturbation, this one is pretty sexual)

Pairing: Lucas X Reader

Words: 14,505

Warnings: This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Heyyo! After months of nothing I present... something!!! I know it’s not exactly the ficmas I promised, but here’s one of the fics I had planned for it! I’m pretty happy with the way this one turned out, he’s definitely not as intense as some of my other yanderes on my blog, but I like it. This one definitely turned out longer than I expected, so I really hope you all enjoy! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

There are always three rules he tells them before they fuck.

Number one: no leaving marks on his skin. He hates having to try and cover them up in front of you, or try and explain that they don’t mean anything to him. You never believe him, and the last thing he wants to do is to push you away any further than you already seem. Besides, the only one that he wants to mark his skin like that is you.

Number two: never say his name. It sounds wrong coming off of anyone else’s lips that aren’t yours in these situations. He usually pictures you the whole time anyways, and their voice just takes the fun out of everything. Besides, it only manages to pull him back to the reality that it’s not you with him. Yet.

Number three: do not fake anything. He doesn’t need them to pretend to be enjoying things in order to stroke his ego. No. He wants to know that he’s actually good at what he’s doing. That way he can do, and be, his best when he’s finally able to be with you. Knowing how to properly please someone and recognize their reactions is the first step, otherwise it would become annoying with how many times people would attempt to exaggerate their noises and reactions. He needs to know that when he finally gets to be with you after all of these others, that it will leave you breathless, desperate, and craving his touch.

Currently, he finds himself in one of these situations. One hand tangled in the hair of some girl who’s name he can’t remember as he fucks her from behind. He can feel her meeting his every thrust, and he can hear the whimpers she lets out into the pillow that her face is pressed into. He can tell she’ll never forget this, as he’s been the best fuck she’s had, she told him so herself.

For a fleeting moment, he allows himself to close his eyes. Picturing the same thing he does every time he finds himself in these situations. He envisions that you’re with him right now, and not some random girl he picked up at a party that night. He almost lets a groan slip passed his lips, but he bites them in order to contain it. 

He always makes sure to keep as quiet as he can during these times, as he believes that you’re the only one deserving of hearing his sounds. Occasionally, a few do slip past his lips if he allows himself to fantasize about you for too long, but he’s gotten better at containing them around others for the time being.

With a loud cry of his name, he can feel her coming around him.

Immediately, he’s ripped out of his fantasy with you, stopping any and all of his movements. It’s deadly quiet in the room now, the only sounds coming from their deep breaths.

“What did I tell you?” His is voice low, full of frustration as he gets denied right before his own release.

“Fuck-“ she pants, “I’m sorry, I don’t know wh-“

He cuts her off, “get out.”

“What-“ her eyes widen as she pushes herself up onto her hands, feeling him pull out of her from behind.

“I said, get out!” His brows are furrowed in distaste as his voice echoes around the room.

Hurriedly, she scrambles off of the bed and grabs her clothes. She can tell he’s fuming as he stands there watching her flee after throwing her clothes on, dick still painfully hard and throbbing for release.

Hearing the click of his front door falling shut, he lets out a sigh. Running his fingers through his hair, Lucas tilts his head back and lets out a frustrated ‘fuck’. He was this close to finishing, and she had to go and break one of his rules, and while he was thinking of you, no less.

Stomping through his apartment, he quickly locks the front door, ensuring he has complete privacy, while also making sure that she can’t come storming back in. Not that she would, but he’d rather be safe. He’s had a few others do that even after they’ve broken his rules and he’s kicked them out, and he doesn’t want a repeat of those times.

Making it back to his room, he walks immediately into his adjacent bathroom to have a shower. He wants to wash this girl’s touch off of him, and besides, he does still want to finish.

Turning the water on, he waits for it to heat up slightly, and grabs a small bottle from underneath his sink. Stepping into the shower once the water is a decent temperature, he places the bottle he’s grabbed to the side, letting out another sigh as he allows the water to fall over his back. Running his fingers through his now wet hair, he lets out another sigh.

The first thing he does is grab the bottle he’s brought into the shower with him, opening it and allowing its familiar floral scent to fill his nostrils. It’s the same soap that you use, and he knows it’ll be able to comfort him right now.

He got lucky. One day in class he overheard you talking to your friend, Jordan, about this new soap you got from the store. Ever since, he’s noticed that that’s the scent you use, or at least, that’s what it smells like each time he manages to get close enough to you that he can faintly breath it in. Thus, the next time he went out, he made sure to grab a bottle. This way, he could use the soap for times like these, when he wants to be wrapped in your scent and feel a comfort only you can provide for him. It isn’t much, but it’s something.

How he wishes it could be you instead. You, who managed to captivate him the moment he first laid eyes upon you in first year. He managed to trip over his own two feet, making a fool of himself in front of you. However, instead of laughing like everyone else did, you came over to make sure he was okay. Granted, you did let out a few chuckles when he clumsily introduced himself, but he heard you call him cute, which only caused his ears to turn a vibrant shade of red in embarrassment.

If only Eunji hadn’t chosen that moment to come up to him and ask him about the night they shared over the weekend, and if anything was going to come out of it. He’s pretty sure he looked like a deer in headlights as she stood there looking expectantly at him, you shuffling from foot to foot awkwardly the whole while.

Unfortunately, your friend soon came running up to you to steer you clear of him. Jordan knew all too well about his building reputation around campus, having had another friend who had experienced it themselves. He had to sit through class overhearing Jordan tell you how bad he is, and how he’ll just fuck you and leave you hanging, because that’s what he does. Little did any of you know that he’d come to realize that he’d never do that to you. No, never you.

Since that day, he's tried to get closer to you to ask you out on a proper date, but circumstances never worked out in his favour. You would either be dragged away by Jordan, or whichever friend you’re with, or he would be interrupted again by someone else wanting to be more than just a one night stand to him. The worst few times were when he finally did manage to talk to you without interruption, only for you to point out the hickies that had been left on his neck. That caused him to start the no marking rule shortly after that incident.

Clenching his jaw, he lets the water wash the soap from his skin. This was supposed to be relaxing, but instead, thinking about all of his failed attempts at asking you out is only serving to make him more tense. He needs to distract himself, and fast.

Now, instead of focussing on the negative memories he has with you, he focusses on the positives. Like how just the other day, you met his gaze, only for your eyes to widen with the cutest expression on your face. Or how he overheard your laughter in the food court yesterday, your expression screaming nothing but pure joy. At that, he manages to crack a small smile, his heart warming in his chest at the thought of him being able to make you laugh and smile like that for him someday.

Fuck, how he just wants to kiss you. So badly he wishes you were here with him now, so he could press you up against the wall and make you see stars. He wants to know what your skin feels like beneath his fingertips, what your hands feel like gripping his hair, but especially, he wants to know what his name sounds like as you scream it for all to hear in ecstasy, letting everyone know that you’re his, and that only he can make you feel this good.

His thoughts, along with the smell of you that’s surrounding him during this time is enough to send him over the edge. He comes with a low moan of your name, eyes closed in bliss as he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies. At least he manages to come with a smile on his face, though he would have preferred opening his eyes to see you, instead of the grimy tiles of his shower once more.

Cleaning himself up quickly, he turns off the water. Grabbing a towel, he dries himself off before wrapping it around his waist and heading back out to his room. Checking his phone, he notices that it’s just past three in the morning. 

Letting out another sigh as he pulls on some loose sweats, he hops back into bed. He’ll worry about changing the sheets tomorrow. After all, he does have work later, and he’s already been late the past two times in a row.

Later that day, he groggily makes his way into work. He just manages to make it on time so as not to get reamed out by his manager again, greeting his coworkers with a small wave. Although it isn’t much working at the coffee place on campus, he enjoys it, especially when he gets to work with his best friend, Jongin.

“Late night?” Jongin quirks a knowing eyebrow at Lucas as they both tie their aprons around their waists.

“You know it,” Lucas jokes, smirk evident on his face.

“Damn, another one?” Jongin teases.

“Had to kick her out,” Lucas shrugs.

“You really are heartless, man,” Jongin shakes his head, grin still on his lips as he moves over to take orders.

Lucas says nothing as he moves over to start making drinks for the customers. He notices a few regulars sitting in their usual places inside, and soon he’s busy preparing himself for the rush they usually get just after classes get let out in a few minutes. A few people come in just to see him, and everyone at the café knows it. He has this unique charisma with the clientele, especially the ladies, whom he enjoys casually flirting with. He guesses that’s also what adds on to his reputation, but he just thinks of it as practice for when he gets to finally make you shy from his flirtations towards you. To him, they all mean nothing when compared to you.

Occasionally, during rush, Lucas will loose himself in his work, humming along lowly to whatever song is playing as he calls out name after name. There have been a few times where people will purposely graze his hand as he hands them their drink, but he’s gotten used to it by now that he pays no mind. Again, it means nothing to him, though he wishes people would stop, and notice that he’s not interested.

He’s just finished making two iced caramel macchiatos when he finally takes notice of the name on the cups. Sure enough, looking up, he meets gazes with Jordan, though you’re nowhere in immediate sight. He notices their eyes narrow at him as he hands them the two drinks, thanking him curtly. Normally wherever Jordan is, you’re not far behind.

Eyes follow Jordan out of the café, Lucas now distracted as he attempts to find you. Sure enough, you’re standing just outside the door, waiting for Jordan as they approach you with your drinks. The smile he sees you wear after grabbing your drink makes his heart warm, for there’s a part of him that knows that you smiled because of him. 

A small cry of pain escapes his lips as he drops the cup he’s holding. He clutches his now scalding hand in his free one, gritting his teeth as he moves to pick up the dropped cup. In his dazed state, he managed to pour steamed milk onto his hand, too distracted by watching you just through the window.

“Woah, Lucas, you okay, man?” His one coworker asks him, helping him clean up the mess.

“I’m good,” he gets out, tossing the now ruined drink into the garbage.

His coworker only shoots him another concerned glance before they get back to work, nothing but the faint sting of the burn on his hand serving as a reminder that you were smiling because of him only minutes ago. If only he could see you again, but you’re gone as soon as he looks back over to the spot which you were standing in before he spilt the drink.

The rest of his shift passes by slowly, the fatigue from the previous night catching up to him the more he has to deal with each rush that comes in. All he wants is to see you again, and spend more time with you, but he can’t.

The more he thinks about it, the more he realizes that Jordan probably told you to wait outside for them while they got your drinks. Jordan is purposely making you avoid him, so he wouldn’t put it past them to do something like that. If only he would be so lucky as to serve you himself.

His eyes widen slightly as realization crosses his features. He now knows a drink order that you like. In all his months working at the café, you’ve rarely come in while he’s been working, so he’s never been able to flirt with you while making you a drink. Now that he knows you like iced caramel macchiatos, he can bring you some during class. Maybe that will show you how serious he is about you. Either way, he knows that the next time the two of you have class together, he’s bringing you a drink. Maybe he’ll even slip you his number if he gets a chance. Perhaps he’ll even write it on the cup.

A small grin tugs at the corner of his lips as he continues working. This plan is perfect. It most definitely can’t go wrong! He’ll show you, even in the most subtle a way as this, that he can take care of you. He can, and will, always provide for you anything you may ever want or need.

That evening once he gets home, he sets to cleaning his apartment. He’s decided that before anything else, he’s going to make his apartment look and smell nice. Who knows what might happen in the coming weeks, and if by chance you happen upon his home while it’s a mess, he’s be so embarrassed. All he wants to do is impress you, even in the most basic of ways.

He falls asleep that night to fresh sheets on his bad, clutching his pillow tightly to his chest and picturing that it’s you that he’s holding. He indulges in his fantasies as he tends to do with you, and imagines running his fingers through your hair as you fall asleep in his arms. In every sense, he wants you: to love, to cherish, to hold. Nothing could ever change that. He only wishes you were actually here.

Two days later, he prepares himself for what he’s about to do. Taking a deep breath, he clutches the cool drink tighter in his hand, allowing the feeling to ground him as he walks up to where you’re currently sitting before class starts with Jordan beside you.

“Hey, (Y/n),” he greets with a lopsided grin, “how’d you make out with the document analysis that was due yesterday?”

“Not too bad, I think,” you smile politely back at him as Jordan squeezes your thigh lightly underneath the table. “How’d you find it?”

He knows you’re probably just being polite at this point, since a few people have turned to stare, wanting to know if you’re going to fall for his ‘game’ or not. He nearly rolls his eyes at the thought. With you, it’s never a game, and it never would be. Jordan, on the other hand, might beg to differ.

“Glad I just got it done on time,” he shrugs casually. 

Truth be told, he’s actually a fairly decent student, and this is his favourite class for two reasons. One, you’re in it, and he can sit close by to you for two hours every week. Two, he actually likes the material of the course. In fact, it’s one of his highest grades right now.

“Is there something we can help you with, Wong?” Jordan’s voice cuts in before he can get in another word.

“Actually, yeah,” Lucas smirks, eyes shining as he notices Jordan’s eyes shift suspiciously to the drink he’s been holding in his hand. Looking directly into your eyes, his expression softens into a smile, “I got this for you.”

Your own eyes widen as he places the coffee on the table beside your notes. Your heart warms at the gesture, but your words seem stuck in your throat for the time being. However, the longer you go just looking at Lucas with those wide eyes, the less confident he becomes.

Did he do the right thing? What if you don’t actually like this drink? Why do you keep staring at him with those eyes? Fuck, if his heart wasn’t racing before, it sure is hammering away in his chest now.

The whole time, questions race through your head as well. Jordan has told you countless times that he doesn’t care for anyone but himself, refusing to do anything for anyone. Jordan has you convinced that Lucas isn’t the kind of guy to just do something out of the goodness of his heart, for they’re sure he doesn’t have one. However, now, you’re not so sure if everything that Jordan has told you about him is true. Maybe he’s not so bad of a guy after all. Maybe he’s just misunderstood.

“I mean, uh-“ he stammers before your voice pulls him back to earth.

“Thanks, Lucas, that’s really sweet of you,” you smile at him, deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt.

His heart skips a beat as he sees that genuine look of happiness on your face, finally directed at him. He feels as if his whole world has stopped, and it’s just the two of you now in the classroom. Nothing could pull him out of this feeling right now, and he can feel a small heat rising up his neck.

“It was nothing,” he tries to play it off cooly, and he just manages not to stutter over his words.

You’re about to say something else, until Jordan beats you to it, and he feels his momentary bliss shattering around him.

“Nice try, dickwad, but it’s not going to work,” they spit, and you watch his expression fall briefly before turning into one of annoyance. “She can’t be bought.”

Before Lucas can retaliate, the professor is walking into the classroom, preparing to begin the lecture. Instead, he ops to shoot a glare at Jordan, letting out an annoyed sigh as he moves to take his seat two rows behind the two of you. He can faintly hear the two of you arguing about him now, and he chooses to tune into that instead of whatever the professor is going to be drawling on about today.

“Jordan, I can’t believe you would say that, he’s just trying to be nice,” you scold, reaching for the drink before they smack your hand away.

“He just wants to get in your pants, (Y/n), and he’ll do whatever he can to seduce you in order to succeed,” they retort.

“I don’t know, this seemed pretty genuine to me,” you mumble as Jordan reaches for the drink instead.

“Think about it, hun,” they continue. “It’s a little creepy how not even two days ago I got us this exact drink at the school café, of which he was working at, and now he shows up to our only shared class with the same drink. Is that not suspicious to you?”

“Why can’t you just give him the benefit of the doubt,” you sigh. “Maybe he’s just trying to impress me?”

He smirks at this. You couldn’t have been more accurate if you tried.

“Well, if so, then do you think he remembered to use lactose free milk?” They counter. “If he cares that much, he should have remembered that one of the drinks was made with lactose free milk, considering he made them. It would have been a fifty-fifty chance on who would have needed that, so to be safe, if he was observant, he should have gotten it for you with that in mind.”

His expression falls. He didn’t even think of that. He was so out of it that day that he doesn’t even remember which milk he used for each. Lucas was too caught up in the thought of seeing you, and then actually catching you smiling, that he forgot all about that. Clenching his jaw, he curses himself.

“If he didn’t, it’s an honest mistake,” you say.

“I don’t know why you’re so intent on defending him, he’s not a good guy, (Y/n),” Jordan shakes their head as you frown slightly.

“I still feel bad,” you whisper. “He did get me a drink, and I don’t want it to go to waste.”

Just as you’re about to reach for it again, they smack your hand once more, “oh, no you don’t. You’ll literally die if you drink that.”

“Well, I don’t want it to go to waste,” you reiterate, frown more prominent now.

“Fine,” they sigh. “I’ll drink it then.”

“Okay,” you nod slowly, a small frown on your face as you watch as Jordan slides the cup closer to themselves.

The whole time, Lucas is fuming. Not only is he mad at himself for not remembering something as significant as making your drink properly, but he’s furious that your drink is now being consumed by Jordan. Though, he’s more upset around the circumstances that led to this, than you not actually drinking the coffee. The last thing he wants to do is be the reason for your discomfort in any situation.

He’s also upset about the fact that Jordan only seems to be pushing you away from him. From the sounds of things, you do want to give him a chance, and fuck, if the way you looked at him earlier was any indication how you felt towards him, he’d be right there to sweep you off of your feet in an instance. Maybe him and all his subtleties towards you are actually working. No matter, the next time he’ll just have to make sure to get your drink right, and make sure Jordan isn’t around to ruin things for him.

Except, he’s not expecting the rumour that arises within the next week, and once he hears Jongin telling him about it at work one day, he nearly drops his phone in the break room.

“What?” His voice comes out rushed, eyes wide as his lips part slightly in shock.

“Yeah! Apparently what’s been going around campus is that you’re trying to get in Jordan’s pants,” Jongin reiterates.

“How the fuck?” He trails off.

“I don’t know man, but rumour has it you bought them coffee last week,” Jongin shrugs.

“I didn’t buy them coffee,” he mutters, only causing Jongin to quirk a brow.

“Word on campus is that Jordan came in to the café last week, you stared at them the whole time while they left, longingly, apparently,” Jongin goes on to say, “and then showed up to your class two days later with that same drink they ordered for themselves.”

“Fuck me,” Lucas sighs. “The drink wasn’t meant for them, it was for (Y/n).”

Jongin frowns slightly until realization flashes in his eyes, “you mean that girl you’ve had a thing for since first year?”

A small nod is all the confirmation he gives.

“Welp,” Jongin stands up, clapping Lucas on the shoulder as he passes, “good luck, dude.”

Another sigh escapes Lucas’ lips as Jongin exits the break room. He’s not sure how exactly this rumour could have started, or who started it for this matter. However, it’s only going to serve as another obstacle for him to be with you. Hopefully, it doesn’t put too much of a damper on his plans.

Easier said than done.

The next two weeks is spent being conscious of his every move. He notices the way some people have been watching him around campus, especially when Jordan is around. It’s usually old flings of his, jealous that they mean nothing more to him than a one night stand. They’ll never mean anything more than a one night stand, either. During those times, he makes sure to never look their way. Only when you’re around does he dare a glance in their direction, but even then, he doesn’t hide the fact that it’s you that he’s looking at. 

Part of him hopes a new rumour will spread that it’s actually you he’s interested in. At least then there’d be some truth to it, and he would be able to use it to his advantage. He can’t count the number of times he’s pictured you confronting him about his feelings in some secluded space, only for him to confess and the two of you end up kissing in the heat of the moment. His mind always wanders further, imagining pressing you up against the wall and taking you right then and there. He wants you, badly, and he’d be more than happily claim you as his own whenever, or wherever you wanted him to.

Resting his head in his hand, he zones out to the lecture. His gaze remains transfixed on your back as his mind plays one of these scenarios in his head. Oh, how you’d grip his hair and call out his name as he thrusts into you, his fingers digging into the skin of your thighs. How he’d claim your lips, over and over again, amongst other, more intimate parts of your body.

He licks his lips, getting lost in his haze of desire for you, and what could be. So much so, that when he shifts slightly in his seat, he can feel his semi-erect cock pressing against the material of his jeans. Letting out a low breath, he attempts to calm himself down. Thank goodness the break is starting now, so he can focus on fixing his problem, and not sit through the rest of class with a hard-on. The last thing he needs, or wants for that matter, is for someone to notice.

Rubbing at his face with his hands, he lets out a deep sigh. Shifting in his seat, he angles himself in a way that no one would be able to see what’s happening to him. Thank fuck he decided to sit beside the wall today. Not to mention he’s got the perfect angle of you, two rows down, as usual.

He’s pulled out of his thoughts when he hears you let out a small squeal, successfully drawing the attention of those around you as well.

“Oh my god, Jordan, look,” you grin, smacking their arm lightly repeatedly.

“What is it? Geez,” they rub at the side of their head, “you’re gonna blow my brains out.”

“Sorry,” you reply sheepishly, before the grin is back on your face, “but look! Ten has silver hair this comeback!”

“Yeah, so?” They yawn, clearly disinterested in your rambling.

“So?” You scoff. “You know I have a thing for silver hair, it just looks so sexy. Especially on him.”

Jordan just chuckles in amusement, “I know, boo, I was just teasing you. I know you love light coloured hairstyles.”

“I do indeed,” you nod once, and that’s all the confirmation Lucas needs to start looking at hairdressers in the area to get his hair dyed.

He’s never given much thought to the colour of his hair before, always sticking with his natural hue over anything he might deem too risqué. However, he’d more than willingly make an exception just for you. If this means you seeing him in a more desirable light, he’ll do it in a heart beat. Besides, a change might do him some good.

Now, to look up this ‘Ten’ guy who has you practically drooling at your computer screen. 

A quick search of this guy’s name pulls up quite a few pictures that have a frown pulling at Lucas’ features. What does this guy have that he doesn’t? Well, except for the fact that he’s an idol, and apparently has silver hair now.

The rest of class is spent with Lucas pouting slightly while looking up facts about this Ten guy that you apparently like so much. Maybe he can alter himself to be more desirable to you through some of this guy’s behaviours. First things first, he’ll start with his hair and see how it goes from there.

He can hardly believe he’s getting jealous over some idol whom you don’t even know. Lucas knows he has more of a chance with you than this Ten guy, but he can’t help but worry. What if his plan doesn’t work, and the two of you don’t actually end up together.

Immediately, he shakes his head to clear his thought. No. He doesn’t even want to think about the possibility of you not ending up with him. He can’t see himself being happier with anyone else other than you, and he knows he can make you so happy, if you’d just let him. He’d do anything for you. Absolutely anything.

All too soon, class in ending, and he’s watching as you pack up your things before heading out of the classroom with Jordan in tow, the two of you still talking about this upcoming comeback. He makes sure to keep his distance while trailing behind the two of you, making sure he looks inconspicuous as he heads to his next class. He wants to hear as much as he can before leaving you for today, wanting to get a better gage on your interest in this Ten guy.

A sour expression resides on his face for the rest of the day. He doesn’t like the fact that this idol is getting all of you attention, and not him. Why can’t you ever focus on him?

Oh, that’s right. Jordan.

If it weren’t for that friend of yours, the two of you could have already been in a happy relationship. He huffs, now heading to the parking lot to head home after sitting through his last class of the day. Once he makes it to his car, he hops in and starts the engine, looking at his reflection in the rearview mirror. In a few day’s time, he has his hair appointment, and hopefully by then, he’ll have thought of a way to get Jordan out of your life so that he can finally have you all to himself.

The rest of the week passes by fairly normally for him, and he’s happy with the way his hair has turned out. He got it cut, too, and it feels even softer to the touch. At least, that’s what his fling from last night told him.

The stress of the week caught up to him, and he had to relieve it somehow, so he felt it best to take out his frustrations on someone else. Needless to say, he was the best they’ve ever had, and they didn’t break any of his rules. He doesn’t think he’s ever went as hard as he did last night, picturing you the whole time. He couldn’t help himself, letting the events of the week affect him more than he wanted.

Again, he ended up kicking the girl out of his apartment before she could stay the night. Usually, he won’t let them, since he doesn’t want to deal with them when he wakes up. This gives him more time to think about you, and picture you wrapped in his arms instead of someone else who might want to talk about their feelings for him or some other shit like that. That’s a huge no for him. Again, unless it was actually you.

Making it into work the next day, he sighs. Saturdays on campus can usually be pretty slow, so he’s not looking forward to working all that much. In fact, the day ends up being so slow that a few people get sent home early, but unfortunately for him, he’s stuck here until close. Even Jongin heads out early, leaving Lucas to work with two of his other coworkers he doesn’t really talk to. At least he can hang out in the break room if it gets too slow.

About an hour before close, he’s stuck behind the counter by himself for a bit while his one coworker takes out the trash and the other is on their break. He knows he can call them out if he needs them, but he doubts they’ll get a rush this late in the evening.

A small sigh escapes his lips as he hears the door to the café swing open. His back is turned to the register as he finishes grabbing down a bag of coffee beans to refill the pot for the morning. As soon as he’s closed the cupboard and turned back around, he nearly drops the bag of coffee beans in his hands.

There you stand, in one of your oversized hoodies, with a friendly smile on your face. Most importantly, you’re alone.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment, him blinking a few times in disbelief and managing to get out a measly little ‘hey’. Of which, he curses himself immediately afterwards. Is that really all he can get out when he’s finally alone in front of you?

“Hey there,” you giggle, and he swears it’s the cutest damn sound he’s ever heard, “you’ve changed your hair.”

“Uh, yeah,” he swallows, nervous all of a sudden about what you think about it.

“I like it,” you smile softly. “Looks nice.”

He freezes for a moment, nearly forgetting how to breathe as he stares at you. Changing his hair was a success after all, and he loves knowing that you like what he did for you.

“Thanks,” he smiles back, before clearing his throat, and putting the bag down on the counter. “What can I get for you?”

You start telling him your order, but he’s already started punching it in. Luckily, it goes unnoticed by you, especially since he undercharges you for the change in milk. Again, no matter how subtle, he wants you to know that he’s always looking out for you, and will provide for you whenever and wherever he can.

After you pay, you move over to the end counter where you wait for your drink to be made. He takes this opportunity to talk to you, considering it’s just you and him right now, and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever get another opportunity like this again.

“So, how’ve you been?” He asks casually as he starts preparing your drink.

“Not too bad, midterms are kicking my ass, though,” you reply, tucking your phone into your pocket. “I’m definitely way too stressed for anything right now.”

“Tell me about it,” he chuckles. “I feel like we’ve just started and we’re already halfway through the semester.”

“Right?” You voice, incredulously. “I feel like I hardly have time to relax anymore, and with our midterm that’s worth forty percent on Tuesday, I’m kinda freaking out.”

“I feel you,” he nods in agreement, now just waiting for the shot to brew to add to your drink. He has to stop himself from biting his lip. He knows a few ways to help you relax, but he doubts you’d let him try anything. Yet. “I’m sure you’ll do fine though, you’re really smart.”

You laugh slightly, “my intelligence is an illusion that hangs by a thin string attached to late night study session, and fuelled by coffee.”

He laughs at this, pouring the freshly brewed shot into the cup, “I take it that’s why you’re here so late on campus on a Saturday night?”

“Guilty,” you joke, reaching out to grab your now finished drink. “What about you? I didn’t take you for one to be working on a Saturday, let alone in the evening.”

Ever so slowly, he watches your fingers gently brush over the skin of his own, and he swears it’s like a jolt of electricity goes through him. Your touch is addictive, and now that he’s had a taste, he’s not sure if he could ever get enough.

He chuckles, “to be honest I enjoy spending most evenings in rather than going out.”

“I see,” you nod slightly with a small hum.

Sure that may have been a little white lie, but you don’t need to know. Besides, if he’s going to counter that image of him you have because of Jordan, he’ll do anything he has to to make you believe he’s actually good for you like he knows he is.

“Well, don’t wear yourself out,” he shoots you a smile, doing his best to contain the bliss filled look that wants to spread itself across his features at this interaction you’ve have together.

“Same goes for you,” you lift your drink in a mock ‘cheers’ motion. “Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I won’t,” he promises, smiling at the way you swirl your drink slightly to mix it before taking a sip. “You like it?”

“This is amazing,” you hum, “just what I needed.”

“Glad to be of service,” he grins, giving you a small salute with two of his fingers, causing you to giggle again. God, he could never grow tired of that sound. “So, do you have any plans for the evening?”

By now, he’s leaning against the counter, for you have yet to move and he wants to be as close as possible to you for as long as he possibly can, without being obvious of course. Besides, he’s enjoying talking with you, and he doesn’t want you to leave just yet.

“Well, that chair over there,” you motion to a chair in the corner of the café, “is calling my name for the next,” you hum, checking your phone for the time, “forty minutes or so until you guys close, so…”

A small smile rests on his lips as he nods in understanding, “if you need anything, just call me over. I’d be happy to make you another one.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” you tell him, smile back on your lips as you move over to the aforementioned chair.

Lucas watches as you place your drink onto the small table that rests in front of the chair, taking off your hoodie before sitting down and pulling out a book to read. He smiles to himself as he moves back over to the forgotten bag of coffee beans to continue where he left off. 

Knowing you’re mere feet away from him makes him so unbelievably happy. He has to keep glancing up to check if you’re still there, and not some figment of his imagination. Even his coworkers have noticed a slight shift in his attitude when they both get back onto the floor, noting he looks more awake than before. He certainly seems happier, that’s for sure.

All too soon, it’s closing time, and he’s just finishing up wiping down the counters when his one coworker goes to let you know. Lucas bites his lip, noting that you appear to be dozing off in the chair anyways. His heart races in his chest, and holy fuck, could you get any cuter? He only wishes he could have been the one to walk you out of the café.

Some part of his brain wishes and hopes that by some miracle, you decided to wait for him to finish closing so he can walk with you to the bus stop. If he’s lucky, he could even offer to drive you home, one hand resting teasingly on your thigh while the other grips the steering wheel.

“Oh, it looks like she left her sweater here,” the voice of his coworker pulls him out of his thoughts.

He watches as his coworker quickly pops their head out of the door, seeing if they can spot you in the distance, but it looks like you’ve already left.

“Damn, that sucks,” they say, turning to look at Lucas. “You know her, right? Why don’t you give her back her hoodie the next time you see her in class or something?”

Without waiting for a response, his coworker throws him your hoodie, and fuck, does it ever smell like you. Clutching it to his chest, he nods slowly, the words finally registering in his brain.

His eyes widen slightly at what this means. He knows for a fact that he shouldn’t give you back your hoodie while in class, there’s way too many watchful eyes around. People might get the wrong idea. On the other hand, he has seen you wear this hoodie around a lot, meaning it’s probably important to you, so if he shows up with it, you might think of him as your Prince Charming coming to your rescues. On the other other hand, he now has a piece of you with him, no matter how insignificant it may be. One that he can keep all to himself.

No, he shouldn’t be thinking like this. If he wants to make you see him in a good light, the right thing to do would be give you back your hoodie as soon as possible. Setting his mind, he determines that he’ll give it back to you when he sees you on Tuesday for class. The sooner the better, and hey, maybe Jordan might stop insisting he’s a horrible person if he does this. 

Soon enough, he finishes closing up shop with his coworkers for the evening and heads back home. Stepping through his door, he lets out a sigh. After clicking the locks into place, he’s kicking off his shoes and heading straight to his bedroom. He tosses your hoodie on his bed, figuring he’ll put it aside once he’s had a quick shower for the evening.

Once again, he finds himself using the same soap you use. Considering the evening he’s had, he thinks it fitting that he smell like you. He wishes nothing more than for you to be waiting for him in his bedroom in nothing but that hoodie when he comes out of the shower, but he knows that’s a fantasy too far away to even hope for at the moment. Still, his mind cannot help but wander to that vivid image as he dries himself off.

Shaking his head, he slips on some sweats, entering back into his room to see your hoodie exactly where he left it on his bed. He licks his lips, imagining your bare legs peaking out from beneath the hem, spread out on his bed and just begging for him to be between them.

This time, he blinks to clear the vision of you from his mind. Grabbing your hoodie, he tosses it to the side of his room where his desk chair sits, hearing it make contact and seeing it hanging off the edge in the next second. Turning off the lights, he hops into bed.

Turning on his phone, he decides to scroll through instagram to see if there’s been anything important he’s missed. His heart nearly skips a beat when he comes across a newly posted photo of yours, showing off your drink from that evening along with the book you were reading. The caption reads, ‘howdy stranger’ with a little heart attached at the end, and he can’t help but read more into this than you probably intended.

To anyone else, that caption might be referring to the book, of which you may not have read in a while, or even the drink. However, to him, it’s reminiscent of your conversation, and how the two of you might still be considered strangers to some. It’s a flirtatious callback to how you two know each other, but rarely talk. Tonight was that exception, where the two of you actually had a somewhat decent conversation without anyone interrupting or pulling you away from him. The fact that you included the drink he made for you in the photo only confirms that this post was about him, and him alone.

He bites his lip, immediately liking the photo to let you know that he’s seen it; he’s gotten your message and he’s more than willing to let you know that if you only say the word, the two of you wouldn’t have to be strangers for much longer. Briefly, his eyes dart to your sweater, of which he can fairly make out the outline of hanging off of his chair where he tossed it.

Lucas decides to scroll through the rest of your instagram, just lurking on your page so he can see you in every and any photo you have of yourself. He makes the executive decision to turn on your post notifications in that moment, not wanting to miss any more of your posts, especially when they’re about him.

He freezes. Maybe he should do this for all of your social media accounts he follows. The last thing he wants to do is miss a post that could be an indicator of your true feelings towards him. What if all this time you’ve been in love with him, too, and your only way of communicating this to him is through your posts?

Grabbing his one pillow, he shifts so that it’s now clutched in his arms, him squeezing it as a rush travels through his body. What if that’s it? Maybe, there’s a small chance that you feel the same, and all of his past things never meant anything to you, and you just act the way you do cause Jordan is always with you, watching your every move around him. Of course, you’d want him, how could you not?

Smiling to himself at this new revelation, his eyes flick over to your hoodie once more. He can practically hear it calling his name, for him to hold as if it were your own body. Without waiting another moment, he gets up, snatching the item of clothing from his chair before laying back down, arms now wrapped securely around the hoodie instead of his pillow.

Burying his nose into the fabric, he takes a deep breath. Fuck, it smells so good. You smell so good, that his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from this alone. The added scent from the soap he’s used just makes this all the more intense, and he really feels like you could be there with him.

Except, something’s still missing. Even as he continues to cradle your hoodie in his arms, it doesn’t seem quite right. That is, until his cheeks are flaring at the solution he comes up with.

Without thinking too much of it, or before he can change his mind, he’s sitting up quickly, and grabbing his previously discarded pillow. Moving the hoodie slightly, he puts it on the pillow, having it act as your torso for the time being. There, at least now there’s something more substantial to hold onto.

A smile tugs at his features as he clutches the pillow, which is now wearing your hoodie, to his chest. He can feel his naked torso burning wherever his skin makes contact with the fabric, imagining it’s really your touch there. He’s even gone so far as to toss the one sleeve over his side to act as your arm, as if you were really there holding him just as he is holding you.

Burying his face into the side of the shoulder, he takes another deep breath, grip tightening around your ‘torso’ as he lets out a low groan. His fingers fist the back of your hoodie, whole body curling around the pillow as he clings to it for dear life. Why can’t you just be here with him, right here, right now?

Would you run your fingers through his hair just like how he so badly wants to do to you? Would you teasingly litter kisses along his bare chest and neck, only to pull away and giggle at the reactions he gives you? Would you pull him closer as he cups your face and kisses you with all the passion he can muster, letting you know how much he loves and cherishes you? He bets his name would sound even sweeter than he could ever imagine falling from your lips, especially as he trails kisses down your own torso, leaving marks all the way so everyone can know that you’re his.

He bites his lip as he feels his cock throb in his pants, pure desire for you coursing through his veins as he lets his imagination run wild, and now that he has your sweater to hold onto, it’s like you’re really there with him.

Before he knows it, he finds himself grinding into the pillow, imagining it’s you, and that you’re grinding right back, desperate for his touch. Fuck, the way you would mewl with his hands all over your body, head thrown back as he gives you uninterrupted pleasure in every way he knows how.

Thoughts continue running through his head as he brings his one hand down to stroke himself over his sweats. Are you actually more on the quiet side? Are you more shy when you’re in bed? Would he be able to fluster you like he knows you could fluster him? Would you be loud for him if he asked?

A small huff of air escapes him as he turns on his back, finally sticking his hand down his pants to grasp his firm cock, stroking lightly all the while picturing it’s you doing this to him. No matter, he’d make you loud for him. He’d make sure you’ll scream from the pleasure he’s giving you. After all, his job wouldn’t be done until the only thing you remember is his name.

Licking his lips, he gently teases the head of his cock, spreading his precome with his thumb as his hand continues to stroke the rest of him, alternating his grip all the while. Throwing his head back, he lets out a low moan, followed by a curse. Your name sounds like heaven falling from his lips, and he only wishes you were around to hear just how good the mere thought of you is making him feel.

Closing his eyes, he lets images of you sucking him off fill his head. The way your lips would wrap around his cock, taking all of him into your mouth as he encourages you and holds your hair in his hand, ever so subtly guiding your movements. Fuck, the way you would hum around him, wanting to make him feel as good as he makes you feel.

He builds himself up slowly, wanting to take his time tonight and just live in his fantasies. Being able to hold your sweater in his hands is just the icing on top, letting him feel like it’s actually you there with him. After edging himself three times, he decides it’s finally time for him to come, and he knows exactly how he wants to do so.

Kicking off his pants, he shifts his body so that his pillow with your sweater on it is beneath his chest. He licks his lips, inhaling deeply with his eyes closed, allowing your image and your scent to fill his mind. One arm is wrapped around the torso of the sweater while he begins to fuck his opposite hand, starting slowly, just like how he would with you once he’s finally inside you.

For your first time together, he’d take it slow, making love to your gorgeous body all night long. He wants you to know that you’re more than just a fuck, and that he would never even think about doing something as intimate as this with another. Only you get this type of intimacy. Only you get the whispers of ‘I love you’ and the breathless moans of your name from his lips. Only you get all of him: mind, body, and soul.

Holding the pillow tighter, he begins to pick up his pace, rolling his hips into his hand as he pictures your legs wrapped around his waist. Every second that passes brings him closer to the edge, and he can feel his hips stuttering as his orgasm approaches. 

Sitting back on his knees, he releases the pillow, stroking himself intensely all the while. With a low moan, he’s coming, your name falling from his lips like a mantra as he releases all over your sweater, claiming it as his own, just as he so badly wants to claim you.

For a whole minute, he just kneels there, eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy. He bites his lip, bringing his free hand up to brush his hair out of his face. Opening his eyes, he looks down to see the mess he’s made of your sweater.

Cursing lowly to himself, his eyes go wide. Well, now there’s no way he’s going to give you back your sweater with it looking like this. He’ll have to wash it before giving it back, if he even decides to do that. Now that he knows what he can do with it, it’s like having his very own body pillow of you, and he doesn’t want to give that up so easily.

Moving off his bed, he cleans up quickly before sliding on a fresh pair of sweats. Once he’s finished, he slides back into bed, scrolling through his phone with his arm around the sweater, the pillow tucked to his chest. He has to find a way to be with you soon, and maybe next time, he’ll make this dream of his a reality.

That night, he falls asleep with a smile on his face, head filled with images of you and what he dreams your future relationship to be like once you’re together. He cannot wait for the day he can finally call you his in front of the whole world, and hopefully it’s soon; he just wants you so badly.

Midterms come and go in the blink of an eye, and before anyone knows it, the professor is assigning the final project. Lucas lets out a small sigh as the prof drawls on about the details during class, gaze zoned in on you once more until a certain phrase catches his ear.

“You’ll be working in partners-“ a chatter breaks out around the lecture hall before the prof grabs everyone’s attention once more. “As I was saying, you’ll be working in partners for the final assignment, but no you will not be working with a partner you choose. You will be receiving an email by the end of the day with your partner’s details for the upcoming project. I expect everyone to work diligently and thoroughly. Class dismissed.”

With that there’s an explosion of chatter and movement throughout as people begin to gather their things to leave the room. Lucas’ heart pounds in his chest the whole while, and he knows he won’t be so lucky as to get you, but he can only hope that’s the case. He just hopes that whoever he gets stuck with isn’t one of his past flings. That would be awkward as hell.

Again, he sticks close by you as you exit the hall with Jordan, discussing the possibilities of the project. He busies himself with checking his phone to make himself look occupied and not like he’s eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Who do you hope you get to work with?” Jordan asks you.

“I’m not sure, I know I probably won’t be as lucky as to get to work with you, but I hope there’s still a chance!” You reply, lip tugging upwards. “If not, the only other person I really know in the class is Lucas, so I guess he wouldn’t be so bad.”

His heart nearly stops when he hears you say those words. Maybe there’s a possibility that you really want to work with him, too.

“Ew, why do you want to work with that fuckwad?” Jordan scrunches their face in disgust.

“He doesn’t seem so bad,” you frown slightly. “Besides, I think he does well in this class, whenever I see him he’s always intently looking at his computer, taking notes.”

You’ve looked for him while in class before? His heart skips a beat. How has he never noticed?

“(Y/n), how many times have I told you to stay away from him? He’s bad news,” Jordan sighs.

“I know, Jor, I know,” you echo their sigh. “I just, don’t see what you mean. He’s only ever been nothing but decent to me.”

“Have you ever thought that there was a reason for that?” They quirk a brow.

Yeah, he’s in love with you, and he’d shout it from the rooftops if he ever got the opportunity.

“Well, regardless, he hasn’t given me a reason to be suspicious of him,” you retort.

“(Y/n), he literally has, or well, had, a Hitlist for this school. Almost every girl, and some guys have slept with him,” they tell you.

“Who he sleeps with, or has slept with is none of my business,” you glance at them out of the corner of your eyes. “I don’t care, and neither should you.”

“Listen, I really don’t care for him, or how many people he sleeps with,” they begin, “it’s the way he goes about it and treats them afterwards that has me peeved.”

“Again, that’s his business,” you say, and in the next moment a teasing smirk crosses your features. “Besides, sounds to me that someone is a bit jealous that they’re not one of his ‘hits’ as you’ve so put it.”

At this, they splutter, “what! That’s insane, I do not even like him!”

“Well, rumour has it that he likes you,” you continue with your teasing, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively at them.

“Rumours are just rumours,” they counter with a grumble, and you hum.

“Fair enough-“ 

That’s all he can hear until the two of you are too far away from him to comprehend what you’re saying. Letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, he leans against the wall. The biggest thing he takes away from this conversation is that you would, in fact, enjoy being his partner for this project, and he’ll make that happen no matter what. It’s a good thing your professor has office hours immediately after class, and it’s a good thing that Lucas just so happens to be his favourite student in that class.

Four hours later and he’s pacing in his room, just waiting for his phone to ping with the email notification. It’s already ten minutes passed when the professor told him that he’d have all the emails sent out by in order to contact the project members. What if the prof went back on his word?

A ping is what pulls Lucas out of his thoughts, him literally jumping onto his bed to grab his phone as he sees the email notification pop up with the subject discussing the partners for the project. His heart pounds as he opens the email, seeing that the prof came through and indeed put the two of you together like he asked. Who knew pleading his case to really support his ‘friend’ would have worked as well as it did.

All he’s gotten is your school email address, and he wants to send you an email to discuss the project right away, but he also doesn’t want to seem too eager. Should he wait for you to respond first? Maybe he should just take the initiative and send you his number so you two can start talking right away. However, before he can even open up a new draft, his inbox pings once more with a new email.

From: (Y/n)

Subject: Project

Hey Lucas!

I’m so glad to be partnered with you, it’s nice to be able to work with someone I know. Anyways, here’s my number, text me anytime and we can discuss the project in detail, I’m more active through text than email. I look forward to working with you!

(Xxx)-xxx-xxxx

(Y/n) :)

His head is reeling, and he has to read over your email several times to make sure that it’s real. You’re glad to be his partner. He can’t help his heart from racing the way it does as he saves your contact information, opening a new message thread and preparing to text you. 

Staring at the blinking cursor in the message bar, he freezes. What should he say? Probably something simple, he doesn’t want to make himself sound too eager. Plus, he wants you to think he’s cool, but also smart, but also available, but not desperate. God, what should he say?

After contemplating for a good five minutes, he settles on, “Hey (Y/n), it’s Lucas. I look forward to working with you, too :)”.

Surprisingly, you get back to him pretty quickly, and the two of you start talking about the project and some ideas you’ve had so far. Before you know it, the two of you are having a pretty decent conversation about your likes and dislikes, things along those lines. 

Lucas could not be happier than he is in this moment. He’s even brought your sweater back out for this occasion, holding it close to his chest as he reads over your entire conversation. You went to sleep a little while ago since it did end up getting quite late, but he can’t believe this has happened. Everything is falling into place, and soon, he’ll be able to make his move.

The next day, he has the closing shift at work with one of his co-workers that he closed with on Saturday. Again, it’s about an hour before close, and quiet, so he sets to cleaning the machines.

“Did you manage to give your friend back her sweater?” The question catches him off guard, causing him to freeze slightly before continuing to wipe down the machines. Maybe this question is a blessing in disguise, for he can put his plan that he’s been thinking about into motion finally.

“No, actually,” he turns to meet his co-worker’s eyes. “I ran into her friend Jordan and gave it to them to give to her.”

“Ah, I see,” they nod, going over to grab more cups from the backroom. Once they come back out, they turn to Lucas once more, “do you mind taking out the trash?”

“Sure,” he nods. He’s got nothing better to do anyways.

It takes him about ten minutes to run the garbage, and an extra five to dismiss an old fling of his who had spotted him walking back to the café. By the time he gets back, he’s slightly tense from the whole ordeal, and he can’t wait to get home so he can ask you about your day. He’s made it his goal to at least message you one small thing per day that he thinks will make you smile. He wants to show you that he cares, and that he’ll always be there for you, whenever you need him.

“Oh, hey, you just missed your friend,” his co-worker tells him once he gets back behind the counter. “She came by asking about her sweater and also asked about you. I told her you gave it to that other friend of hers.”

“Oh,” his eyes widen ever so slightly, nodding in understanding.

Besides being upset at the fact that he missed you stopping by, the fact that you asked about him sets his heart soaring. This is good! This is indeed very good for him. This means you’re thinking about him, even when he’s not around, something he could have only hoped for.

That night, he sends you a text when he gets home, heart beating nervously as he waits for your response. Once he hears that familiar ping, he’s smiling to himself, happy at how quickly you respond to him. You don’t keep him waiting long, just as he would never intentionally do so to you.

Lucas: Hey, heard I just missed you at the café this evening.

You: Yeah! I just wanted to pop in and say hi, and also ask about my sweater. I seemed to have misplaced it, and when I went to check the lost and found on campus they said they hadn’t had anyone drop it off so I’ve been retracing my steps lol

Lucas: Damn, now I’m really sorry I missed you, I could have told you that I gave it to Jordan for safe keeping

You: Yeah, that’s what your coworker told me, but they haven’t given it back to me yet. Sucks cause it’s my favourite sweater

Lucas: Damn, yeah, that does suck. Hopefully they return it soon

He looks over to the hoodie resting on his bed, still wrapped around his pillow. He really should wash it soon, he got another stain on it recently. 

His eyes widen as he thinks up a small safety measure just incase you’re over one day and find your sweater. Good thing it’s oversized.

Lucas: I have one that’s pretty similar, so if you aren’t able to get yours back you can always borrow mine lol

You: Lmaoo thanks, I’ll keep that in mind

Letting out a sigh, he shakes his head. He doesn’t particularly like the fact that he’s technically breaking your trust right now, and he has no clue what you’d do if you ever found out he lied to you, but he’s doing what he has to to ensure Jordan’s out of your life and that they can no longer keep you and him apart.

About two weeks pass by and Lucas notices that there seems to be a wedge driven between Jordan and you. The two of you no longer joke around as much as before when you’re together, and it’s as if there’s a sort of tension in the air whenever you’re around one another. For this, he couldn’t be more glad, his plan is working, though he’s surprised at how well it is. There must have been some other underlying factors causing this rift between the two of you other than the sweater incident, as you’ve now decided to call it.

On the other hand, you and Lucas have been getting even closer to one another. At least, over text messages. You do come to visit him every now and then during his night shifts, but it’s usually around closing time after you’ve finished working in the library. Even so, he’s grateful for every moment he gets to spend with you.

The due date to your assignment is getting closer every day, and the two of you have decided to finish it at his apartment this Saturday, which just so happens to be tomorrow evening. That means there’s less than a day left in the week before he’ll be able to make his final move, and make you his, once and for all.

He’s just at work refilling the coffee beans when he hears the bell chime above the door. Once again, he’s the only one on the floor, and he’s glad for it, for you walk in and manage to take his breath away like you always do. However, instead of wearing your usual calm expression, you seem more tense, and slightly frustrated.

“Hey,” he greets, putting the bag of coffee beans down so he can start your order, “the usual, I presume?”

“Yeah, please,” your reply is short as you go to reach for your wallet.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s on the house,” he says. “You look like you could use a pick-me-up.”

“Thanks,” comes your blunt response, forcing a smile that pains his heart.

“Is everything okay? I don’t mean to pry…” he trails off as he starts making your drink. 

Anyone would be able to tell that you’re not your usual self and that something is bothering you. He only wants you to know that he’s here for you, no matter what. He will always listen to whatever you have to say and do his best to support you in whatever way he can.

You let out a sigh, chewing on your bottom lip slightly, nervously. Lucas can tell that you’re contemplating on whether or not you should tell him what’s bothering you. Luckily for him, it looks like you trust him enough now to share your worries with him, a fact that warms his heart.

“It’s just Jordan,” you say, causing him to quirks a brow at you in response, waiting for you to continue. “They keep telling me that they don’t have my sweater and that you never gave it to them. This isn’t the first time they’ve kept something of mine and not given it back after saying they never had it in the first place.”

You pause momentarily, and he has to stop the surprised look that wants to spread across his features from breaking out onto his face. This plan of his is working out even better than he could have ever imagined. So, he decides it’s time to put his high school drama classes to use.

“That’s strange, considering I did give it to them,” he frowns. “Though, now that I think about it, they were acting kind of strange when I gave it to them.”

“What do you mean?” You question, brow furrowed as you watch his hands as they pour the shot into your drink.

“Well, they kind of snatched the hoodie from my hands and flung it over their arm like it was bothering them. It almost seemed like they were annoyed that I asked them to do this. Though I mean, I’ve heard they don’t like me very much,” he chuckles slightly, handing you your now finished drink, fingers brushing ever so slightly. “Though I found it strange that they wanted to talk with me in private.”

“They did?” You ask. “That is strange.”

“Yeah,” he nods subtly.

“What did they want to talk about, if you don’t mind me asking?” There’s curiosity in your eyes, but also, suspicion. Towards him or Jordan, he cannot be too sure, but he hopes he’ll be in the clear after this.

“Uh, well, I was quite shocked but they confronted me about supposedly,” he adds air quotes to his next words for emphasis, “playing with their feelings and leading them on.”

“What?” Your jaw drops.

“I swear, I was just as surprised as you are,” he goes on to say. “They told me that my little ‘game’ I was playing with them wasn’t funny any more and that I should just ‘be honest’ with my feelings for them and stop trying to make them ‘jealous’.”

“That’s ridiculous, oh my god,” you shake your head. “I don’t want to believe they would do something like that, let alone say it. From what I know, and - no offence - Jordan hates your guts.”

“That’s what I thought, too!” He replies, almost incredulously. “But I also know they like spreading rumours about people.”

You scoff, “you could say that again.”

“I mean, I don’t mean to stir anything even more, but wasn’t there also a rumour going around that I was supposedly trying to get with them or something?” Lucas leans one hand on the counter, the other resting at his side.

“Yeah, there was,” you nod. “It was cause of that coffee you brought me that one day in class, people thought it was for them cause-“ you pause, looking slightly embarrassed, “cause they were the one who drank it.”

“Oh,” he feigns a slight pout at learning this. “Did they- did they think I forgot to use lactose free milk or something?”

“Yeah, actually,” you meet his gaze, suspicion lingering in your eyes.

“I did, in case you’re wondering, just to be on the safe side,” he adds. “I knew one of them was and I didn’t want to take a chance if the one who needed it was you. Now I know I made the right call.”

“That’s actually really considerate of you,” you flash him a small smile before shaking your head. “Anyways, that’s not the point.”

“Exactly,” he agrees. “What if they were the one who started this rumour and used that as the catalyst.”

“They were pretty adamant about me not drinking it,” you recall, one hand coming to rest on your chin in thought, eyes widening as you realize something. “Holy fuck, maybe that’s why they’ve been-“ you inhale sharply, effectively cutting yourself off, “sorry to run off like this, but I’ve got to go. Thanks again for the drink, I’ll see you tomorrow!”

Without another word, you storm out of the café, a fire now burning behind your eyes. Lucas is left there, stunned, heart racing as he can’t believe that this has actually worked. His plan is almost complete, and depending on how your talk goes with Jordan, of which he’s assuming is going to happen soon based on how you cut yourself off and stormed out of here, his plan might be complete by tomorrow evening.

A large smile breaks out across his face as he finishes wiping down all of the tables for the evening, his coworker finally coming out of the back to help him close the café. His whole body warms at the fact that tomorrow, he’ll finally be able to have you in his apartment, alone. Not to mention the fact that Jordan might finally be out of your life for good, eliminating that obstacle to your relationship before it can continue to sabotage him further than they already have. All he has to do now, is wait.

The whole afternoon the next day is spent cleaning his apartment and making sure it’s spotless for you. He makes sure he has food, drinks, anything you could possibly want for when you come over. Nothing is too much when it comes to you, and he wants to make sure he has everything he may need to make sure you’re happy and comfortable with him. This is his chance to impress you, and destroy any last remnants of him being a fuckboy from your mind. He’ll treat you right, forever and always.

Sure enough, seven o’clock rolls around and he hears a faint knock on his door. His heart nearly skips a beat in his chest, palms sweaty, as he walks over to open the door for you. 

Greeting you with a small smile, he notices you seem extremely tense. As soon as you enter his apartment, you’re kicking off your shoes with a sigh as he shuts his door once more.

“Hey, let’s finish this project, yeah?” You turn to him, and he can tell that you’re drained, both physically and emotionally.

“Sure,” he nods, motioning to his living room for you to lead the way. “Uh, can I get you anything?”

“Water, please,” your response is short as you move to sit on the couch, pulling out your laptop to work on the project.

He walks back into the room a minute later with two glasses of water to see you just sitting there on his couch staring blankly at your computer screen. Placing the glass on the table in front of you, he gently takes a seat beside you, ”is everything alright?”

“Honestly?” You sigh once more, shutting your laptop and turning to look at him. “No.”

“What’s wrong?” He asks, brow furrowed in concern.

“Remember our conversation yesterday?” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “Well, I decided to confront Jordan about everything, cause everything was just a little too convenient for them, if you know what I’m saying.” Again, he nods. “We ended up getting into a huge fight, and now we’re not talking to each other. I just can’t believe they would lie to me like this.”

“What happened?” Escapes him before he can stop himself, wanting to know exactly what they told you incase he needs to cover his own ass. He’s gotten this far, and he can see the light at the end of the tunnel, there’s no way he’s slipping up now.

“Well, I told them everything we talked about, and they basically called me stupid for believing you and not them, and then said that they can’t believe I think that they stole my sweater, or that they started that rumour,” you tell him, and he listens intently to every word you have to say, reacting appropriately each time. “They kept bashing you, and honestly, that made me really upset cause you’ve been nothing but kind to me. They just keep lying, and it only looks bad on their end cause they can’t explain themselves to me properly, which I told them, then they called me stupid again, and said that I’m too gullible for my own good. Basically, they were treating me like a kid, and I couldn’t take it anymore. Like fuck, they always have something to say about everything I do, and they’re so fucking controlling, I just blew up. Then they said some things and it just spiralled out of control. I don’t need that negativity in my life.”

His eyes are wide in shock. His plan worked. It actually worked! 

“I’m so sorry that this has happened to you, and that someone whom you thought was your friend would treat you like that,” he places a gentle hand on your knee for comfort and you glance down at it before looking up at him, concern written all over his features. “You don’t deserve that, and I apologize if I was the one who got you into this mess. I feel like if I wasn’t involved things wouldn’t have ended like this. I should have just given the sweater back to you.”

“No, no, it’s not your fault,” you shake your head, rubbing at your eyes lightly to clear your vision. “Something like this was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just sorry you had to get involved like this.” You let out a frustrated grunt. “I feel like there’s just too much going on right now, and now we have to work on that fucking project cause it’s due at midnight.”

“Well, I have some news that may cheer you up,” he squeezes your knee slightly, causing you to look at his face once more in question. “I already finished our project last night. Well, it was like, three in the morning, but I figured you could use a relaxing evening given the conversation we had yesterday”

“You did?” You look at him with eyes shining with gratitude and wonder, and fuck does he ever just want to lean in and kiss you.

“I did,” he confirms with a small smile.

“Lucas, I can’t thank you enough,” he can visibly see you relax, as if a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders just from this one act alone.

“I can order us a pizza or something and we can just relax tonight and watch movies if you want,” he’s hoping you say yes and don’t just decide to leave after learning you don’t need to finish your assignment.

“Sounds good to me,” you agree. “I could use some relaxation time, if you know what I mean.”

The wink you send him has his body tensing slightly, heart skipping a beat in his chest. Are you hinting at something else? Something more? Whatever it is, he’ll be happy to oblige.

“Oh, I hear you,” he smirks.

“Anyways, what movie would you like to watch?” You ask, putting your laptop down and leaning further into the couch, getting comfortable.

You spend the next twenty minutes deciding on what movie to watch, the two of you laughing and cracking jokes the whole time. He’s noticed you’ve relaxed even more now the more time that passed, and for that, he couldn’t be more grateful. If he allows himself to indulge in his fantasies, he envisions this as your first date night of many. 

By the time the second movie starts, he’s ordered the both of you a pizza, of which now rests on the table in front of you. About halfway through the movie, he notices you shiver slightly.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you mumble, “just a bit cold.”

Fuck, the only blanket he has is on his bed and it’s the one thing he didn’t wash today.

“You can borrow one of my sweaters if you’d like,” he offers, eyes flashing with something you don’t quite catch.

“Damn, at least ask me on a date first before letting me borrow your clothes,” you joke, giggling as you move to stand up.

Butterflies erupt in his stomach, a feeling he’s only rarely felt before, but a feeling he wants to feel again, with you.

“Fine then,” he notices you tense slightly at his words as he leans forwards slightly to stare at you intently, “would you like to go out with me sometime?”

You chuckle nervously, your own heart skipping a beat in your chest. You won’t deny, you’ve always thought Lucas was attractive, you just never thought you were his type. As far as you know, he doesn’t ask anyone out, so why you? Why now?

“I was kidding,” you try and brush his question off, not thinking he’s being serious.

“I’m not,” comes his immediate reply, and you notice how intently he’s staring at you, making your breath hitch in your throat.

Fuck it, “sure, why not?”

The smile you send him sends him over the moon. His plan actually worked! He nearly has to pinch himself, for this is like a dream come true, and soon, you’ll be all his, and his alone.

“So, uh, which room is it?” Your question has a million thoughts running through his head, causing him to nearly lose his composure until he realizes you’re just asking where you can find his sweaters.

“Down the hall on the right, in the closet,” he replies, willing his heart rate to calm down. “Take your pick.”

“Sweet, thanks,” you smile, heading off in the direction he’s told you.

Once you’ve arrived at his room, you slowly open the door, noting how clean and tidy his room is. The faint scent of jasmine lingers in the air as you walk towards his closet, opening the door and looking over the array of hoodies he has. As you’re riffling through them, a familiar looking one catches your eye. Immediately, you’re tearing it off the hanger, confusion written all over your face.

In your hands, you hold your missing sweater, or at least, you think it’s your hoodie. Same size, shape, make, everything. You’re about to question it further when you remember Lucas telling you that he had a similar hoodie to the one you lost. This must be the one he’s talking about.

Immediately, your shoulders relax, breathing out a sigh of relief. There’s no way he would have lied to you about everything, now, would he? You trust him enough not to linger on these thoughts for too long, instead, slipping the hoodie over your body and smiling at the familiar warmth it brings you. You only wish you could get your own back soon.

Walking back into the living room, Lucas swears he stops breathing as soon as he sees you. Luckily for him, you miss the brief panic that flashes through his eyes.

“You know, when you said you had a similar hoodie, I didn’t think you meant you had the exact same one,” you joke, sitting back down beside him on the couch. “How come I’ve never seen you wear it.”

He laughs, “I only use it for special occasions.”

“I see,” you nod.

“It looks good on you,” he says, and he’s thanking every star he decided to wash it today.

“Thanks,” you giggle, and just like every time, it’s like music to his ears.

A silence settles back over the two of you as you continue to watch the second movie. He’s already made a promise to himself not to let you leave tonight; he finally has you, and he’s not letting you go so easily. However, with the way that your head lulls onto his shoulder near the end of the movie, he doesn’t think he’ll need to work too hard to make you stay.

He looks down at your sleeping form, hand coming up to carefully stroke the side of your cheek. Shifting slightly so that you’ll be more comfortable, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you even closer into him and hearing you hum in content. This time, it’s your turn to shift, and he freezes, thinking he’s woken you up. Instead, you bury your head deeper into his side, one hand coming to rest on his chest while your one leg tangles with his own, your thigh dangerously close to his hips.

Exhaling shakily, he wills himself to calm down, not wanting to ruin this moment, and revelling in it while it lasts. All he knows, is that he’s in for one long night.

[thisisgonnafuxkinkillme]

Light Under The Door

MAJOR TW FOR SELF HARM!

Au where Deku dies oops-

Warnings: angst, self harm, main character death

You first realized something was wrong when he wore long sleeves at home as well as at work. Usually, as soon as he got through the door, he’d ditch that uncomfortable looking yellow suit and don one of his much-too-large shirts, or sometimes even just skip into his flannel pajamas. 

For a good week, though, he had been choosing to wear his loose fitting winter shirts to bed and even while he relaxed at home. 

That wouldn’t have been overly strange on its own, all except that it was in the middle of summer. 

That, and he’d always slink away when you grabbed for his wrist or sleeve. He’d pretend as if it were nothing, and you believed him. 

That was until you got home from the store a little earlier than expected. His car was outside, so he was definately home, but the house was utterly and totally silent. 

You should have at least been able to hear him clicking away at his keyboard, or sipping some tea, or watching television. 

You silently placed your bags down, approaching the bathroom door quietly. You heard quiet hisses and hiccups from just beyond the door. 

It was unlocked and open a crack. You knocked quietly, calling out to him.

“Toshi, are you alright?”

He gasped, dropping something and audibly scrambling for the door. 

He peered out of the crack and into your eyes. 

“I’m fine,” he breathed, flashing a fake smile. He tried to close the door the rest of the way, but you put your foot in between the door and the frame, stopping it. 

He didn’t fight back. As you entered the scene, he hunched himself against the wall and covered his face. All he was wearing was a pair of boxers.

Your breath hitched as you saw what was going on. Upon seeing the abandoned razorblade and tiny droplets of blood, you knew.

"Don't...don't say anything. I already know," he grimaced, shaking his head. He’d struggled with self harm before, way back in his youth, but thankfully kicked the habit. Well, for the most part. One thing he always hated was being scolded for it, or being told how utterly stupid he is for doing something so harmful to himself.

It just reminded him of how he lets them down. How he let you down. Himself.

Him.

You held back tears. It's your turn to be strong now. For him.

You firmly grabbed him by his upper arm.

"Baby, look at me. Look at me," you breathed shakily. He did so, revealing his tear stained, ashamed face. He'd been hiding this for a long while. You could tell that much by the look in his eyes and his clenched jaw.

Your heart panged. This isn't him.

"I...I know you think..." He warbled, his voice cracking before breaking again.

"I don't think anything, baby boy. It's okay. It's alright. Just breathe for a second for me, okay?"

He slumped pitifully into your embrace, letting himself sob relentlessly into your shoulder. You weren’t exactly sure what to do with his bloodied body other than hold him there, for a moment or two. 

His upper thighs, which you’d expect to be pale and pasty like the rest of his body, were instead covered in shades of reds and pinks where he had freshly harmed himself, and in browns and purples where he had allowed the lines to scar over. 

His arms, too, were covered with these sickeningly familiar scars as well as freshly bloodied lines carved across his flesh. 

He’d definitely been hiding this from you for a while. A long while, at that. 

You whispered in his ear, “Oh, baby...you don’t deserve any of this...”

He clutched at your clothes, balling up the material in his fists.

“you...you wouldn’t say that if...” he let go of you.

 He couldn’t escape it. The scream. The blood. The utter helplessness.

His face.

He hit himself in the head, trying to knock the memory out of his mind.

You grabbed both of his wrists. This utter violence would have scared you anyways, but with it directed towards someone you loved so much, it was terrifying.

“I’ve killed people! They’re dead!” he screamed.

“You didn’t kill anyone, Toshinori! What-”

“No! They-he- died right in front of me!” he sobbed, collapsing into the floor in front of you. 

He gritted his teeth. 

“I couldn’t even show my face at their...at his funeral...” 

You held in your own cry, remembering when it all happened. It was so fast. No one could have predicted it. 

In the end, the boy had saved a classmate, but at the cost of his own life. 

Toshi was at the scene, screaming for him, but it was too late. He was gone in an instant. 

For weeks afterward, he didn’t leave his bedroom. He barely ate. What he did eat was just what you’d nearly force down his throat to keep him breathing. He just laid there, in the bed you shared, with the curtains drawn and his phone turned off, for entirely too long.

It absolutely killed you to see him like this. What killed you more, though, was when the boy’s mom wouldn’t stop calling, texting, and even knocking at the door. She would sob words of forgiveness, begging you to please tell him that she wasn’t angry at him for breaking that promise they made not so long ago. To tell him that something like this would’ve happened even if they’d never met. 

To tell him that it wasn’t his fault. That she didn’t blame him.

But no matter how much she pleaded, you just couldn’t talk to him about it. Whenever you so much as brought up her name, or mentioned anything alluding to...him...Toshi would just break down.

Just like he was now. 

You took his face in both of your palms, gritting your teeth and making him look at you.

He could barely see you holding back tears of your own through his blurred eyes.

“It was not your fault.” You asserted.

“...but-“

“It was not your fault.”

“I could have... he...”

“No. You didn’t kill that boy. Nothing you could’ve done would have stopped what happened from happening.”

Toshinori looked into your eyes, replaying that scene in his mind.

He couldn’t have magically teleported in front of that car. A healing quirk, nor any amount of surgeries or doctors could have undone the severe internal damage that it caused.

It was an utter accident.

He closed his eyes, squeezing the memory out of his brain. The blood was what haunted him the most. It was everywhere. More than he’d ever seen in his entire life, even being a pro hero for a good portion of his life and seeing horrific crimes.

The boy’s eyes glazed over mere moments after the collision, not even able to speak or respond to the rush of people surrounding him. Toshi had to essentially fight his way between the hoards of onlookers to get close to him. To stroke his cheek. To tell him that it was okay to go.

That he was a hero.

That he was proud of him.

He closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath and holding your hand to his chest. Your heart ached as you noted his shaky, skinnied fingers.

“You don’t deserve any of this, honey,” you repeated, bringing his head to your chest and stroking his hair. He was done crying. He just needed you.

His breathing calmed down after a good while of keeping him there, just existing with him for these moments without criticism and without judgement.

“Toshi, can you let me clean you up a little?” You murmured. He nodded silently.

“But... please don’t... I-I... just...” he muttered as you stood up.

“I’m not going to judge you, baby. It’s okay. I’m going to make sure you didn’t go too deep, and just help the bleeding stop. I’m not going to judge you for anything,” you assured him. His lower lip quivered and he nodded again. You left, grabbing the first aid kit and a bottle of water.

First, you handed him the water, instructing him to drink. He tried to refuse at first, protesting that he was fine, but after a little coercion, he took a little sip. Later, that sip turned into thirsty gulps. The bottle was nearly empty when he was done.

He was definitely thirstier than he thought.

These days, it was easy to ignore what his body needed. Hunger passed eventually, and so did thirst, and so did pain. Rather than deal with the issue, he’d usually just ride out the discomfort. He just couldn’t find it in him to care anymore.

So, for now, you had to do it for him.

You gently inspected his wounds. You sighed with relief as you noticed that he hadn’t gone deep enough to need a trip to the hospital for stitches.

He winced as the astringent met with his raw flesh, but you were there to soothingly comfort him with gentle touches and praise.

Soon, he was all bandaged up. He looked up at you, reaching for your cheek. He mouthed a thank you before placing a tiny kiss on your other hand. You kissed him on the forehead in return, helping him stand up and walk into the bedroom, assisting him to ease under the comforter and switched off the light before joining him.

You two coiled into one another, each warming the other’s body gently. Your breaths synced up harmoniously as you both drifted into a much needed afternoon nap.

When you woke up, there was no interrogating. No demanding to know where all his razor blades were hidden. No begging him to seek therapy.

You knew what struggling was like. None of that would help in the end. It’d only push him deeper into his own darkness.

So you settled on doing what you felt that you needed when you were in the same place he was: simply being there for him, and being ready with open arms to take on his problems when he couldn’t bear them any longer.

And he couldn’t.

Not on his own, anyways.

———

The next morning, when you woke up, Toshi was waiting for you in the kitchen. He’d already made you your favorite coffee and some honeyed toast.

After you ate, he gently took your hand.

“Will you help me with something?”

You nod, smiling sweetly.

He looked away. Shame burned his soul.

“They’re hidden in the medicine cabinet, in a box all the way in the back. Please, can you... get rid of them for me?” He whispered. You nodded.

“Are there any more?” You gently question. He shook his head, sighing.

“I’m really sorry for all of this trouble I’ve put you through...” he apologized. He was trying his best to stay strong, to appear okay and unbothered, but his voice was already cracking a little.

You shake your head.

“Don’t be sorry. I’m happy I can be here for you. I’m going to go take care of that for you now, okay?”

He nodded.

———

Recovery was slow but steady. You never asked if or when he relapsed, but when he’d lock himself in the bathroom, you couldn’t help but freeze and wonder if he was hurting himself.

But soon, his scars started to heal. He began wearing t shirts again. He started to laugh a little bit more.

And finally, he took Inko’s call.

You didn’t hear their full conversation, and you didn’t wish to eavesdrop. What you did know, though, was how different he was once he hung up from that call that lasted a good three hours.

He was lighter.

It was as if he’d been carrying an earth shattering weight on his back for centuries, and finally was just able to put it down.

He slowly became himself again, the darkness fading away at the touch of the warm sunlight within him.

——

[teumeku]

bang yedam x reader

yedam was born to love you

the first time you met, it was by the lake. an oddly heart-shaped lake with forget-me-not flowers nestled around it.

you stood by the lake, smiling happily as you felt a cool breeze lift your hair in a gentle wave. a small basket rested loosely on your arm, half full of the blue forget-me-nots that surrounded the lake. brushing your hair out of your face, you huffed, looking down at your basket helplessly.

your eyes flitted around the lake, all over the plants, to find one that you hadn't picked flowers from so that you didn't strip a plant of all of its flowers. your eyes wandered over to a couple of plants bunched together on the other side of the lake but your face fell when you noticed that a boy was already sitting there. (how you hadn't noticed him, you never figure out)

however, those were probably the only plants you hadn't picked flowers from and you huffed, mustering up the courage to walk over to him. "excuse me, do you mind if i picked some of these flowers too?" the boy looked up as you spoke and you, being shy, avoided his gaze.

he shook his head with a small smile, "of course not, go ahead."

you crouched down, a distance away from the boy, fingers carefully picking the first flower from this new plant. the two of you sat in silence for what seemed to be the next half-hour, simply plucking the little blue flowers until he got up, bidding you an awkward and quiet goodbye, which you returned shyly. (you might have caught him looking back at you a couple of times as he walked away, turning around quickly when you looked up but you couldn't blame him– you couldn't keep your eyes off him either)

the first time he told you he loved you was when you made him a flower crown.

"you made this? for me?" yedam stammered as you held out the little blue flower crown.

you nodded excitedly and he smiled shyly, taking the crown from your hands and placing it on his own head, "how do i look?"

"amazing! it looks amazing on you!" you exclaimed, adjusting the crown on his head so that it didn't fall off. he smiled happily, watching you fuss over him, straightening the crown, and brushing strands of his hair from his face and as he watched you, he felt his heart hammer against his chest, gathering the courage to say what he had long wanted to say.

he opened his mouth but closed it again, too scared to say anything. but as your gaze left the heart-shaped lake in front of you and wandered over to him, he knew that the grin on his face told you everything– he loved you.

the second time you met, it was in the palace. you, the admired royal, and yedam, the visiting, esteemed musician.

you looked curiously at the boy playing the violin– you'd never seen him before and, yet, it felt like you already knew him. he was wearing a blue suit, a delicate shade of forget-me-not blue that suited him perfectly, eyes closed as if he was lost in the music.

you turned to your mother, who was sitting next to you, also watching the orchestra at large and you nudged her gently– an action she had long since given up on telling you off for (it was not royal-like, she said). "mother, who's that?" you gestured towards the front and foremost violin player, the boy in blue.

"you've noticed him, have you? that's yedam, the violin player your father told you about last week. he's from another kingdom but he's visiting on our invitation– the king of his kingdom has told your father so much about yedam's musical talent and we couldn't resist inviting him," your mother explained, but you had stopped listening after she said his name.

yedam. you thought you'd heard his name before, but you didn't know where. and you certainly didn't know why you thought he'd look perfect with a flower crown. you couldn't get his name out of your head, wondering just why oh why a stranger seemed so familiar but you were snapped out of your haze when you felt as if someone was watching you.

you looked back at the orchestra, at yedam and you found that he was already looking at you, his face mirroring the same confused feeling you felt.

the second time he told you he loved you was when he left your kingdom, rolling away in a carriage, rolling away from you.

you smiled sadly at the boy in front of you, leaning back on the carriage that was meant to take him home, "i don't want you to go..."

over the past few months he'd been here, you'd grown more than fond of yedam, coming to enjoy his company much more than you'd ever enjoyed anyone else's. his hand tightened around yours, "i don't want to go either but i have to. it's only right that i honor the end of my invitation."

"will you ever come back? to the palace? to me?" you mumbled, feeling tears sting your eyes.

"i don't know... perhaps one day, i will be back. but until then, i cannot promise anything, i'm sorry," he whispered, fingers nimbly wiping away your tears.

he looked back at the carriage and you sighed, "it's okay, i didn't expect you to promise... you should, you know, go now. i expect your parents are waiting for you, go home to them."

he nodded sadly, climbing into the carriage and looking back at you, he said, "i'll miss you." you tried your best to give him a smile, "i'll miss you too."

the carriage began to move as you uttered the words and you watched his carriage roll over the hill. you saw him stick out his head, looking back at you, waving. he hesitated before he shouted back, "i love you!" and you, in your disoriented state, waved back until his carriage disappeared from your sight, to which you whispered quietly, "i love you too." and you never saw him again. (you think his face fell when you didn't say anything back and you couldn't help but feel guilty whenever you thought of it)

the third time you met, it was at a flower shop. it was his first day on the job and you just happened to wander along.

to say that it was a rainy day was an understatement. it was simply pouring outside and you, having not had the sense to check the weather before leaving your apartment, were now standing in a small flower shop, soaking wet and drenched in rainwater. you couldn't quite believe your luck, most shop owners or employees wouldn't want someone in their store dripping from head to toe in water but the boy now standing behind the counter was unbelievably nice.

having seen you trudge through the rain, he'd kindly stuck his head out of his flower shop door and offered you refuge in it. longing for some sort of warmth, you'd accepted his offer almost immediately after weighing your (minimal) options.

apologising profusely, you followed him into the flower shop attempting to dry yourself off before entering but as it was still raining, your efforts failed. looking back over his shoulder, though, he'd chuckled awkwardly and disappeared into a side room before appearing seconds later, handing you a dry towel, "i know the towel's not that big but..." his voice trailed off as you took the towel.

"no, no, it's fine. you helping me out of the rain was already good enough, thank you. and don't worry, i can help you mop up." you smiled at him, patting your hair with the towel to dry it.

he shrugged, "nah, don't worry about it, just keep warm." you looked at him, confusion written across your face, "but... won't the owner be mad? or– that's only if you're not the owner." you stopped yourself before you embarrassed yourself further.

he shook his head, laughing a little, "my mom's the owner, she won't mind."

"oh..." your voice trailed off as your eyes wandered around the shop, "do you mind if i, uhm, look around?"

"of course not, go ahead," he nodded, moving back to the counter awkwardly, "i'll just, uh, be here."

you looked around the little shop, eyes ranging over the many flower arrangements until they fell upon a certain blue bouquet. they looked familiar– not just the flowers, but the arrangement as well and you looked back at the boy, "what flowers are these?"

he looked up, "oh, those are forget-me-nots! they're my favorite flowers– have been since i was little."

"ah, i see," you paused for a fraction of a second as you surveyed the flowers and then you looked back at him once again. something fell into place in your mind and your heart leapt, for reasons unbeknownst to you. but it almost felt like your heart recognised the flowers, and recognised him.

the third time he told you he loved you was in his room, in the middle of the night, 5 months after your meeting in the flower shop.

you were panting, having raced to yedam's apartment at nearly midnight after he called you, frantically asking you to come over. the door opened and you half expected to see him in a state of dishevelment yet when you saw him, he was looking as normal as ever, wrapped up in a comfortable-looking hoodie. you opened your mouth to scold him for sending you into a state of panic but he spoke before you said anything, "i'm sorry for making you come over but i just finished a song and i wanted you to listen to it and... yeah."

you smiled incredulously, rolling your eyes playfully but you said nothing, just letting him lead you to his room. "here, put these on," he handed you his headphones, the ones you had seen him wear on multiple occasions whenever he was working on a new song.

you took them from him, putting them over your ears as yedam clicked the play button on his computer and the song started playing. it was a beautiful song– not only the music but his voice, as well. there was no way to explain how much you liked it and as it came to an end, you took off the headphones, looking at him, "yedam, that was... beautiful."

"is it?" he smiled sheepishly, "i guess it should be because, you know, i wrote it about... you."

you felt your cheeks heat up and you shyly avoided his gaze, even though you knew he was watching you, "what is it called?"

"born to love you."

the fourth time you met, it was at school. or, you didn't meet him. only saw him, and he only saw you. but that's good enough.

it was the first day of school, back in this familiar, old school with it's blue walls, a bright forget-me-not shade. but however familiar the school was to you, whatever hallway you were currently walking in was not. first period hadn't started yet, but you'd begun your trek to class early solely for the reason of... you don't know where your classroom even is.

finally, after having popped your head into multiple classrooms, asking teachers for directions to the class, you came to stand in front of classroom 057. you peered into the class, to scope it out– it was brighter than the hallway, which was dull, with its lights flickering miserably. the teacher wasn't in yet, or perhaps had left the classroom for a little bit, and the classroom was empty except for the boy sitting in a desk on the other side of the classroom.

he was hunched over a book and in any case seemed much too preoccupied to notice you but he looked up as you entered the class. he looked vaguely familiar as your eyes met but his gaze flickered back down to his book in an instant, his hair falling to cover the side of his face from your view.

you shrugged it off, picking a seat in the back of the classroom as the bell rang. yet, as the rest of the students filed into the classroom, you found your eyes flit back to the boy and for a quick second, you could have sworn you saw him look back at you as well.

today, yedam arrived at school earlier than normal, took a deep breath, and left a present for you on your desk.

you paused as you approached your desk, noticing a neat envelope laying on the surface of your familiar desk. you eyed it warily, not knowing who had left it yet you found yourself too curious to stop yourself from picking it up. you carefully opened it, peeling the flap up so you could see what was inside it.

you noticed the blue flower first and you gently took it out from the envelope. it was a fully bloomed forget-me-not flower. something stirred in your thoughts, a blurry image of a heart shaped lake taking over the front of your mind. you shook it off, not knowing what to think. instead, you peered into the envelope again. there was a letter inside and you slid it out, unfolding it as you did so. you began to read it, eyes moving quickly over the words in ink, barely breathing.

"dear (reader), you don't know me. i think. well, we met recently, on the first day of school but i don't know if you remember me– from before, i mean. in fact, i'm not even sure if writing this letter to you is a good idea. or maybe writing it is good, leaving it for you to read might not be. but if you're reading this now, i guess it's too late to take it back, right? i just hope you don't think i'm weird– though, if you do, i'd understand why. but, anyway, as you can see, i'm not sure of that many things in this world. i don't think i ever have been. but when i met you on the first day of school, i was finally sure of one thing. you see, i think i was born to love you. (p.s. i picked the forget-me-not from my garden, in hopes that it would remind you of me.)"

you let out a sigh that you didn't know you'd been holding in. you turned over the letter, in search of a signature from the writer but to no avail. instead, you gently picked up the blue flower, touching one of the soft petals and you felt something deep in your heart, eyes widening as you remembered everything. the heart shaped lake, the forget-me-not flowers, the palace, the shop. his smile, his face, his voice, his touch, him. you remembered yedam.

—

hihi (´• ω •`)ﾉ i’m back after like... a month with a longer scenario !! and it’s my first non bullet pointed scenario !! and if it was confusing, it's about ur past lives with yedam and ur current life with him. i don't know if it's weird though (╥﹏╥) obviously, this is based on... yedam’s song from t-map ep. 46 because it’s a masterpiece and i wanted to try and write a masterpiece... that part didn’t work out very well but it’s okay! i hope you like it !! [p.s. i don’t know anything about where forget-me-not flowers grow... pretend they can grow near a lake. and i don't know when guitars were invented so bare with me here].

[psychedelic-ink]

This is my commission for @some-piece ! Thank you so much for commissioning me once again and oh my god I hope you like this because I certainly enjoyed writing it! 

Pairing: Law x chubby!fem!reader x Zoro

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Drama

Word count: 5 k

Warning: Fingering, anal, dirty talking, threesome 

Summary: You, Law and Zoro go to visit Franky and Robin on Christmas everyone is there including Sanji. Zoro’s and Sanji’s constant bickering annoys Law and you so the two of you hatch a plan to end it all.

Commissions | Ko-Fi

There was a reason why you never invited anyone to your place and it was a good one. It wasn’t one reason though, it was two. 

And the two reasons were standing right infront of you. 

“Stop eating the appetizers you damn moss head!”

“For the love of god could you go bother someone else! Shitty curly ass eyebrow!” 

“What did you just say!?”

Taking in a deep breath you apologetically looked at both Robin and Franky, you felt like you had brought a toddler who just wouldn’t settle down. But the older couple seemed to be happy with this since they both laughed along with Zoro and Sanji’s immature fighting. But sadly you and Law couldn’t be as cheerful, the two of you had grown tired of the constant bickering of the two at every goddamn gathering. It was embarrassing, especially since the both of them had no filter at all. 

The evening continued, it was nice seeing everyone else, honestly the gathering of all your friends was the only reason you appreciated Christmas. Luffy was constantly shoving appetizers in his mouth, Usopp was talking about his new book with Franky, Robin and Nami were happily gossiping, you and Law were mingling, everything could be considered great but of course Zoro and Sanji’s constant fighting put you in a sour mood. Law placed his arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, his warmth calmed you but you couldn’t stop from sighing constantly. 

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, looking at your raven haired partner. “I’m really enjoying myself but I just can’t seem to zone them out, they’re like mosquitos constantly buzzing in my ear.” 

Law glared at the two, he had no idea why but Sanji had his foot against Zoro’s face. 

“I get what you mean.” he muttered. “Hey dumbass!” he shouted. Zoro flinched and turned his gaze from Sanji’s foot to him. “You promised not to do this. Again.” he hissed between clenched teeth. 

You couldn’t see Law’s expression but you were positive that he was gesturing towards you with his eyes, which you had no issues with since you just wanted the mosquitos to stop quarrelling. Zoro’s eyes went between you and Law, finally he pushed Sanji’s foot away from his face and clicked his tongue in annoyance as he walked towards the two of you. 

“Yeah listen to you boyfriend.” Sanji cooed as Zoro left. 

At that moment both you and Law knew that there was no way Zoro was going to spend the evening with the two of you. Beet read, Zoro turned back on his heel and they resumed their shout race they had with each other. You buried your face into Law’s chest as the two of you groaned. 

“Yeah there’s no way they’re going to stop anytime soon,” Law said, annoyance latched into his voice. “Maybe we could distract them or something?” 

“Zoro has a one track mind, I doubt we can distract the beast after he’s been awakened…” After a moment of silence a smile spread across your lips. “But I do have an idea that might work. We might not be able to distract Zoro but we can distract Sanji.” 

“With what exactly? I already share you with one man, I ain’t sharing you with another.” 

You laughed at the pure seriousness of his tone. 

“No not like that but we could act like the most nauseating lovesick couple ever and annoy the hell out of him.” 

“Are you sure that would work?” Law questioned raising an eyebrow. 

“We’ll never know until we try my sugar bear.” 

Law looked at you and as soon as you made eye contact with him you both started to laugh. 

“There’s no way we’re going to get through this without laughing,” Law said wiping a tear. “If you ever with all seriousness call me sugar bear I will dump you.” 

“Please do so, that just felt wrong.” 

But even if both of your stomachs churned each time you made kissy faces and called cute little nicknames at each other, you continued your attempt to distract Sanji. Surprisingly, you both managed to do it without breaking into a laughing fit and you could tell that Sanji was starting to get annoyed. The fact that Zoro was in a couple and he wasn’t (maybe he could find someone if he just stopped drooling over every goddamn woman he saw) just made him angry in a petty way. 

Honestly you’ve never seen Sanji like this before, he usually just called Zoro names or made fun of his hygiene but this Sanji, a Sanji enraged in seeing a lovey dovey couple at every corner… it frightened you. Of course he couldn’t say anything to you so that meant he focused all that rage towards Zoro which was the exact opposite of what both you and Law wanted. They started to get more violent, more verbal and to be completely honest their behavior threatened to ruin your whole mood. 

You were hoping that dinner would be the solution to everything, everyone was gathered around the table, the smell of Sanji’s cooking enticing everyone's noses and stomachs. Momentarily you saw Sanji, he was oddly calm and much like the Cheshire cat  his lips were spread out in a grin. Your stomach dropped at his expression, the cook had his gaze fixated on Zoro who was sitting right next to you, calmly scooping mashed potatoes into his plate. Law was on your other side and gently you nudged him with your knee, he followed your gaze and locked his eyes on Sanji as well. Ever so faintly you could hear the tattooed doctor groan. 

“Zoro, how does it feel to not be able to make your girlfriend happy?” he asked, humming. “How does it feel to need another man’s help to satisfy her?” 

Your mouth fell open at his words, never could you imagine Sanji hitting Zoro below the belt like that. Quickly your eyes switched towards Zoro, if looks could kill Sanji would be dead by now, he dropped the spoon and stood up, the chair falling to the ground as he did so. Law had his hand on your leg, his thumb going in circles as he tried to soothe your nerves. Everyone was dead silent and was holding their breaths. What would Zoro do? He would fight back obviously? Sanji was still smiling at him as Zoro’s glare intensified. 

Then Zoro did the unimaginable. He walked away. 

That seemed to take Sanji by surprise because momentarily you could see his smug look wavering and for a short moment you could see regret. But that didn’t stop you from lashing out. 

“Good job Sanji.” you spat. “Are you happy now?” 

“I...I…” 

Before the cook could finish his sentence you stomped away and went to find Zoro, Law followed you after excusing himself from the table. You could hear Nami scolding Sanji but you didn’t care about that right now. The only thing you cared about was Zoro, he already wasn’t the most comfortable about the relationship and Sanji had hit him right where it hurt. You searched the house for the green haired man, he was in none of the guest bedrooms, finally the two of you heard a groan and followed the angry mumbling. You saw light coming from a door that was cracked open and well behold Zoro was in the third guest bedroom. 

 “How did you end up here?” Law asked, genuinely curious. 

Zoro flinched at the voice and turned to stare at the both of you, quickly you closed the door as you entered the spacious toilet. 

“I...don’t know.” Zoro grunted, turning his gaze back to the mirror. 

You noticed droplets of water dripping down his face, it was clear that he was trying to calm himself down and honestly you were impressed by his tenacity. You placed your hand gently on his back, just as you were leaning in to check on his face he pushed you back. You gasped, surprised that he pushed you away. It wasn’t a strong shove but it still took you by surprise, Law took a step forward with his eyebrow furrowed as he glared at Zoro. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Don’t take your anger out on y/n.” 

“He’s right.” 

“What?” you asked, your heart braking at the tone of Zoro’s voice. 

Zoro averted his eyes and as a plea for help you glanced at Law. He sighed and placed his hand on Zoro’s broad shoulder. 

“Look at me.” Law said firmly, Zoro, hesitant, lifted his gaze back up to face him. “You love y/n don’t you?”

Zoro nodded. 

“You love me too right?” 

Zoro sighed but nodded again. 

“See this isn’t about not being able to satisfy y/n, the three of us love each other. Sanji was just trying to piss you off and you know that.” 

“Yeah.” you chimed in also taking a step forward. “It’s also kind of our fault since we edged him on with the lovey dovey crap.” 

“Really? I haven’t noticed.” 

“Yeah well, you were busy trying to choke Sanji.” Law said, an amused smile on his lips. 

You also broke out into a smile when you saw Zoro finally giving in and chuckling. It looked like Law managed to get through his thick skull of his, taking a step forward you planted a soft kiss on Zoro’s cheek, he seemed surprised by that and gave you a confused look. 

“That’s for not losing your shit in front of everyone.” 

A faint shade of red colored his cheeks, Law patted Zoro on the shoulder and laughed. 

“Yeah good job! You somewhat kept your promise to y/n and me.” 

“We’re still annoyed at you though.” you said, pouting. 

Law nodded at your statement. Zoro sighed and rolled his eyes, it was nice to see him starting to relax. You knew well that he always felt calmer with the two of you, and even though that could be said for the three of you it was especially true for Zoro since he wasn’t the most emotionally open person in the relationship. 

Every beautiful rose has its thorns but when it came to Zoro it was worth it. 

“How about we go back,” Law said, gently pushing Zoro towards the door. “I bet everyone is worried.” 

You followed them both with a smile, Zoro had groaned a bit to Law’s statement but didn’t resist. When Law opened the door the three of you were surprised to see Sanji there, the blond flinched and quickly hit something behind his back, taking a step back he nervously started to tap his feet. 

“I-I wanted to apologize,” he stuttered. “To all three of you, what I said was in bad taste.” 

You locked eyes with Law and you could see in his gold orbs that he was as equally shocked as you were. Quickly your gaze fell back to Sanji who had his eyes locked to Zoro. 

“Yeah it was.” Zoro grumbled as he crossed his arms in front of him. 

“I especially wanted to apologize to you Zoro, I...I was just being an asshole.” he took in a deep breath. “I didn’t mean what I said, so here.” 

Quickly Sanji pulled out what he had stashed behind his back and shoved it into Zoro’s chest, both you and Law peered over his shoulders to see what it was, much to your surprise it was a present. Zoro raised his eyebrow and gave Sanji a confused look as he held the gift. 

“I got everyone a little something for Christmas, this is your present. I really didn’t want to make you upset, especially on Christmas.” Sanji said, stuffing his hands into his pockets. 

Zoro sighed and started to tore away the wrapping paper. Your curiosity grew. 

“Just because you bought me something doesn’t me— WHAT THE FUCK?” 

Zoro’s hands were shaking as he held a black shiny box, Karuizawa Vintage Single Cask Malt Whisky was written on top of it in gold. Behind it there were big red kanji symbols that you had no idea what it meant but apparently it was a big deal because Zoro’s hands were shaking and his mouth was agape. 

“Ohh fancy.” you here Law humming. 

“How did you get this you dumbass?” Zoro blurted out his eyes back on Sanji, the cook seemed amused by Zoro’s reaction. “Did you sell an organ or something?” 

“I have my connections,” Sanji replied with a smirk. “I’m guessing you like your present?” 

“You’re such a piece of shit you know that right?” 

From Sanji’s expression you could see that he wasn’t expecting that, his eyebrow twitched but he quickly took a deep breath and walked away muttering something about ungrateful moss heads. Zoro smirked and called out to him as he left. 

“Thank you!” 

Without glancing at their direction Sanji waved and disappeared from view. Your eyes went between the supposedly expensive bottle and Zoro, you could swear you could see sparkles in his eyes. 

“Should we leave you two alone?” you asked, teasing. 

“Oh shut up,” Zoro replied, hugging the bottle. “Alright let’s go back.” 

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

You let yourself fall on to the bed, it dipped under your weight and you sighed happily at the coziness of it. Franky and Robin sure as hell knew how to spoil guests. The rest of the night had gone, much to your pleasure, swimmingly. Sure Sanji and Zoro bickered now and then but it was more on the soft side, you could tell Sanji was holding back his vulgar mouth and Zoro’s teasing had become more playful after receiving the very expensive bottle of japanese whisky. 

Law quickly made his way to the shower, despite looking like a homeless college student he did shower quite often and Zoro had laid down on his stomach right next to you. He placed a kiss on your cheek, and grazed his lips against your skin making you giggle at the sensation. 

“Hey y/n,” Zoro whispered, his lips inching closer to your ear. “Let’s have sex.” 

“What?” you snorted. “Why now?” 

Zoro propped himself on his elbow and came closer to you, you could easily sniff the alcohol coming from his breath, a devilish smile spread across his lips. 

“The cook is next door, let’s make some noise.” 

“For the love of god Zoro,” you groaned. “This is you master plan to annoy him? It’s a pretty shit one. Besides you know I don’t moan.” 

“Come on, for me?”

“No,” you said again, furrowing your eyebrows. “Besides I don’t want to be included in this childish game.” 

Zoro flashed you a grin as he climbed on top of you and you rolled your eyes as you guessed what was going to come next. 

“Fine I’ll just have to make you moan then.”

“Yeah good luck with that.” 

He ignored your annoyed tone and snuck his hands under your shirt, his lips latched to your neck, Zoro’s fingers traced your body as you continued to lay down on your back. You let out a shaky breath when his hands brushed over your nipples. Zoro started to squeeze and knead you breasts, it felt good of course and small whines left you but that was pretty much as far as noise making went for you. 

Zoro left open mouthed kisses as he rolled up your shirt, exposing your breasts, he took a hold of each nipple and started to roll the sensitive nubs between his fingers. Your back arched with his touch, and he nibbled on your flushed neck. 

“Come on I want to hear you.” he muttered against your skin. 

But your lips were sealed shut, Zoro clicked his tongue in annoyance. Swiftly he lifted you up and pulled down your sweatpants followed with your underwear, you gasped when he shoved in two fingers. 

“You’re so wet,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Look how easy I can slide my fingers in to you y/n.” 

Your back arched as he fiercely started to thrust his digits in and out of you, your heart was beating madly in your chest as you let out shaky breaths. Zoro disappeared between your trembling legs and left a trail of open mouthed kisses up your thigh, occasionally he would nibble on your soft flesh as he traveled towards your heat. 

You weren’t going to lie, the man was really going all out for you to make some noise. 

“Zoro…” you whispered as you felt his breath ghosting over your clit, his fingers still thrusting in and out of you. 

“That’s a good start,” he chuckled. “But how about we get a bit louder?” 

Before you could snap back with a snarky remark, he wrapped his lips around your clit and started to suck on the already overly sensitive nub. Zoro hummed as he tasted you, your juices overflowing around his fingers. The lewd noises echoing inside of the room turned you on even more, your whole body shivered and you bit your bottom lip. You placed a hand behind his head and started to roll your hips accordingly to the rhythm of his sinful fingers. 

You weren’t sure but it felt as Zoro was smiling at you for slowly coming undone, he continued to suck, nibble and push in your clit with his tongue. He scissored his fingers inside of your, spreading your insides, searching for that sweet spot that he was sure that would make you scream. 

Too bad that you were one stubborn woman. 

Your toes curled, you flinched, trembled, occasionally whined and whispered his name but that was pretty much it. Zoro gradually became more annoyed at your silence, suddenly he pulled out his fingers strings of your juices following his digits, you gasped at the sudden emptiness. You glanced up at him and noticed that he was glaring at you, you raised an eyebrow to that. 

“This shouldn’t be a surprise to you.” you said, challenging his glare. 

“We’ll see about that.” he growled and shoved down his sweatpants, his cock slapped against his abdomen and needless to say you were impressed by his stubbornness. 

Zoro grabbed your hips and squeezed your love handles, aligning his cock with your hole he buried himself inside of you with one swift motion. Your eyes teared up a bit by the sudden feeling of being stretched out, your back arched and you gasped for air. Without giving you a chance to adjust he continuously slammed his hips in and out of you, your breasts bouncing and hitting you in the chest with each thrust. 

“Just make some noise woman.” Zoro grunted as he leaned in and buried his face into your neck, biting and sucking on your skin. 

You closed your eyes and started to lose yourself in the bliss, you couldn’t care less about Zoro’s ambition to make you scream and shout, you were just going to enjoy the ride. Just as you were losing yourself you opened your eyes back up as you heard a faint creak of a door opening. 

Law came out of the bathroom and steam followed him, with a white towel loosely wrapped around his waist, he was dabbing the excess water out of his hair with another towel. Momentarily he glanced at the top of you, unfazed he continued to dry his hair. An idea popped into your head and before Zoro realized that Law was out you furiously started to wiggle your eyebrows at him, he noticed and gave you a puzzled look. You turn your head to the night stand and look at the lube with such intensity that it looked like you were trying to summon the bottle to move towards you. Law understood the message, of course he did, he understood everything and with a grin he quickly grabbed the lube and dropped the towel flashing you a glimpse of his semi erect cock. 

You watched as he stood behind Zoro, pouring a generous amount of lube over his fingers, he spread Zoro’s cheeks and pushed in the tip of his two fingers. Zoro immediately jolted up and his thrusting slowed down, he turned enough to see that Law was behind him. 

“What the hell?” he hissed. 

“I want to join in on the fun too.” Law hummed.

Grabbing Zoro’s chin with his free hand, he pushed his finger deeper as he grazed his lips over Zoro’s. A smile spread across your face when you saw how red Zoro was getting as he parted his lips, wanting a kiss from Law. But instead of a kiss, Law smirked instead and curled his fingers, stealing a rather loud moan from Zoro. 

“Tell me what you want Zoro.” he whispered, his voice dripping with lust. 

Zoro swallowed as his eyes widened, you could swear you could hear his heart racing in his chest, you licked your lips at the sight and felt yourself becoming slicker at the scene playing in front of you. Unwillingly your insides clamped around Zoro’s cock and he let out a soft whimper. 

“Kiss me.” he breathed out, his voice trembling. 

Law placed his lips over Zoro’s, you watched intently as Zoro parted his lips allowing Law to slide his tongue inside. He moaned into the kiss and he slowly started to roll his hips, making you throw your head back as his shaft grazed against your puffy clit. Law continued to suck on Zoro’s tongue as he scissored his fingers inside of him, preparing Zoro for what was about to come. You could feel Zoro quivering inside of you, your mouth watered knowing how good he was feeling. 

Law broke the kiss and with a string of saliva connecting them he grinned at Zoro’s flustered state. He pulled out his fingers and Zoro whined at the loss of them, Law gently placed a kiss on the side of Zoro’s chin and aligned himself with his hole. With both hands squeezing Zoro’s hips, he started to push in. Zoro gasped at the feeling of being stretched open and his cock twitched inside of you. Law clenched his teeth. 

“You’re still so damn tight Zoro,” he breathed out. “I need to fuck you more often.” 

As a reply, Zoro let out a groan, you chuckled at that and saw Law move up his hands towards Zoro’s chest, he grabbed both of his breasts and squeezed them. Your eyes widened as Zoro’s back arched and let out a throaty moan. Law started to play with Zoro’s nipples, rolling the erect nubs between his slender fingers and pulling them occasionally. Zoro’s head fell back and Law continued to push in until he was fully sheathed. 

Law let out a shaky breath and decorated Zoro’s skin with open mouthed kisses, his hands fell back to Zoro’s hips and he pushed the green haired man forward so he would drop on all fours. Zoro’s face was an inch away from yours and his hands were on each side of your head. He was breathing heavily, the scent of alcohol and yourself still lingering in his breath. Pushing yourself up you captured Zoro’s lips with a kiss, you felt Law starting to thrust in and out of him, effectively making Zoro thrust in and out of you as well. Zoro moaned into your mouth as you sucked on his bottom lip, wanting to hear more of him you let go of his intoxicating lips. 

Zoro’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as Law’s thrusts became more intense, sweet moans left him nonstop, you could relate to him, getting fucked by Law was no easy task. The noise of skin slapping against skin was like a sweet serenade to your tainted ears, each time Law thrusted, Zoro thrusted deeper into you. You clawed Zoro’s back, you couldn’t stop watching him, Zoro was looking down at you between half lidded eyes, his cheeks a beet red and his tongue dangling with each thrust, his moans were gradually becoming louder. 

“Ahh...ahh...Law…” he mewled, pushing back into the doctor. “This is too much.” his voice trembled and you could swear you could see his eyes glistening with tears. 

“I’m just starting Zoro.” Law purred and as a demonstration he pulled his hips all the way back  and snapped them back, pushing his throbbing cock in all at once. 

Law rammed his cock into Zoro’s deepest parts and it was just too much for him to handle. You could tell that he hated how good Law was making him feel, hated how he couldn’t stay quiet and hated how he was already coming undone by Law slamming into him, lewd noises of his balls slapping against his flushed skin was enough to make him want to disappear. 

Lost in the pleasure, Zoro didn’t notice Law grabbing his green hair. He pulled at Zoro’s hair, and as a response his hiss could be heard. 

With each thrust Law was able to rip a throaty moan from Zoro, he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Without a hint of shame in his voice Zoro screamed out, he moaned, he groaned and he begged Law to let him cum. 

His voice echoed throughout the whole goddamn house and by the end of the night everyone would know who was making him feel good. A wicked smirk spread across Law’s lips. 

“Law!” Zoro shouted, his voice echoing. 

“Yeah that’s right, scream my name.” Law teased, grinning at you and winking. 

Zoro didn’t reply and instead continued to moan out Law’s name, he sometimes even moaned yours as well, his arms trembled as he struggled to keep himself up so he wouldn’t end up squashing you. You felt yourself growing closer and closer to your orgasm, Zoro’s cock throbbed inside of you, his length now drenched in your juices, you slightly lifted your hips so he could hit that special spot inside of you, normally you would ask but you weren’t sure he could even hear you over his own moans at this point. 

Also wanting revenge for earlier, you lifted yourself up as much as you could, you licked a stripe down Zoro’s neck and ended on his breasts, with one hand you rolled his erect nipples between your fingers and with your mouth you sucked on the other one. 

“Y/n what are you— Ahh!” 

You bit into the sensitive nub and violently sucked on it, Zoro shivered and pressed his chest further into your face. He always did like to have his nipples teased. Your tongue went in circles, the way he whimpered and moaned on top of you made you want to tease him further. You took another bite and sucked, hoping to leave a mark. Falling back you witnessed your masterpiece, even now you could see a dark circle forming around Zoro’s nipple. Just as you were going to suck on the other one, you were pushed back as Zoro basically fell on top of you. Momentarily your gaze landed on Law, he was looking down at both of you, his eyes dark with lust.  

Law’s grip on Zoro’s hips tightened, his movement grew sloppier as he chased his own orgasm. Law flashed you one last grin before plunging himself deep into Zoro groaning, as he came and of course him plunging into Zoro meant that Zoro was burying himself into your deepest parts as well, you saw white as you came, you juices dripping on to the sheets. Zoro was twitching inside of you, his mouth wide open and his eyes crossed as he screamed out Law’s name over and over again. 

Law pulled Zoro out of you, his cock was still hard as a rock. Law motioned you to get on your knees, which you did, Law wrapped his fingers around Zoro’s cock and stroked him until he was cumming all over your face, thick ropes of cum shooting out of him. Your eyelashes felt heavy with his cum, you darted his tongue out and gave it a little taste, it was bittersweet. You looked up to gaze at Zoro, he seemed completely out of it, he was still panting looking down at you with awe, you grinned and stuck your tongue out showing him that his seed was still lingering in your mouth. He shivered. 

“Let’s get you into a shower.” Law said as pulled out, softly slapping him in the ass. 

Without saying anything Zoro let Law and you guide him to the bathroom, his cheeks were still beet red. 

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧    ✦    ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

Breakfast was certainly more entertaining, at least it was entertaining for you and Law, Zoro much like an embarrassed child kept his gaze on his plate, Sanji on the other hand...he couldn’t even look at either of you. Whenever he did, he would look away and blush. It was amusing to see them both so silent, it pleased you. 

And of course it pleased Law as well. 

Law wrapped his arm around Zoro’s shoulder and placed the weight of his body on to him, forcing him to press down further into the chair. Zoro let out a yelp, you hadn’t noticed right away but it seemed like Zoro couldn’t quite sit down right, both you and Law chuckled as all eyes turned to the three of you. Your poor green haired partner blushed and tried to cover up his yelp with a cough, this seemed to work on all of them except for Sanji who was now blushing furiously as he excited the kitchen. 

Zoro’s master plan had worked after all.  

[mochibrokenheart]

SVSSS: Guardian of the Museum

Mobei Jun x Shang Qinghua

Word Count: 2,756

Summary: Of course there's ominous growling and destruction to the building on Shang Qinghua's first night as a museum curator. Of course there is! Besides being desperate to keep the job, he's not sure what possesses him to actually walk toward the dangerous situation. His survival instincts were better trained that! Except...wait a minute...the terrifying creature causing all the ruckus is actually the hottest thing he's ever seen???

My first contribution for Moshang Monsterfucking Month (and my first fic for the fandom in general!) Heavy on the monster part as the nsfw is not explicit. Who knew that it would be hard to write something short. Inspired by the Day 2 prompt: horny.

Also posted on my Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34305571

A nearby bell tolled at midnight just as Shang Qinghua locked up the museum for the night, which meant that he was officially off for the weekend. Being a party of one, he celebrated with a groovy victory dance while turning the key over in the lock.

There was a little click and he rattled the knob, checking that the door was properly locked—if anything was stolen or vandalized during the night, he would most definitely be blamed as the recent hire!

The job was an important stepping stone in his career path plan to being a rare artifacts curator. He really needed the experience. It was hard enough to land the job, so he wasn’t above looking neurotic by double, and triple, and quadruple checking everything before he left.

A chilly breeze tussled his hair and raised goosebumps down his neck. It was October, he supposed while drawing up his hood to block the chill, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to complain.

He was much to delicate for cold temperatures and would exercise his right to curse out the changing seasons. Of course, he could move somewhere further south, so that he wouldn’t have to put up with it anymore, but still!

The only good thing about the loss of summer was the bugs, he decided.

Clearly, Shang Qinghua was irresistible because bugs treated his blood like an all-you-can buffet. If only hot men thought the same. But alas.

Sighing, he turned up to admire the full moon, who seemed to sympathize with the sad state of his romantic affairs, being the moon and all. Something about it’s pale gray-white color naturally emoted a sad, longing reflection.

It was as he was looking up that he heard a growl, loud not because of its pitch—it was actually quite low and gravelly—but because it vibrated the very air around him.

Shit. Shit. He wasn’t equipped to deal with some beast! He had no weapons and there was no way his body was going to get the job done either. He was a delicate flower, just ask the bugs who always feasted on him!

He rummaged through his bag frantically for his phone. That was what the authorities were for.

Opening his phone, his mind was racing. Who did you call when there was a potentially wild animal on the loose? The police? Animal control?

Gasp! What if it turned out to be a demon?

…!!!

He didn’t have any shamans or priests on speed dial. There had never been a reason to until then but if it would save him, he’d buy up every type of religious necklace he could and wear them around his neck daily. It was like insurance—it never hurt to cover all of his bases.

While he was wasting time on the sidewalk, what appeared to be small bits of gravel drifted down from what seemed like the roof. Scurrying to get closer to the streetlight, which casted a circular light on the steps of the museum, Shang Qinghua bent down to get a closer look.

It felt dusty when he rubbed his pointer finger against his thumb and did match the shade of stone the building was…The new evidence presented a bit of dilemma. Yes, he was still itching to call somebody have them do the dangerous work, but at the same time, his boss might fire him if something happened to the museum under his watch.

“Well, if there’s more damage, I guess I’ll take a look,” he muttered. He clasped his hands together. “But please, take mercy on me, moon! I promise that if you get me out of this that my next erotica will be dedicated solely to you, and in very large print, so that my readers know the reach of your mystical power!”

His hands remained clasped high above his head as he waited. So far so good.

There was still the scary growls, of course, but those didn’t count because he wasn’t going to investigate that. It was absolutely common knowledge that people who investigated weird sounds always ended up dead, at least in horror movies, and that was all the proof he needed to wash his hands of it.

No, the only thing that could sway him from his crouch on the front steps was…was…

Tears shimmered in his eyes as more rubble was knocked off from the roof, the fine particles irritating his nose and causing him to sneeze.

Thoroughly betrayed, he used his sleeve to wipe at his nose. Forget the moon. Clearly the bond he felt had only been one-sided, and now he was obligated to actually suck it up and put himself in harms way.

The Shang Qinghua of five minutes ago would’ve screamed and called himself a fool. Why ignore those highly honed flight instincts?! Even the Shang Qinghua of the present was screaming and calling himself a fool when he took the first hesitant step inside.

It was deceptively quiet in the stairwell but that wasn’t enough to calm him. As the saying went, it was the calm before the shit storm and he was about to be right in the middle of it. How careless of him.

Just in case this was the end, he started to draft an epitaph—it’s not like anyone else would put in the same amount of effort. 

His minor following would be too busy wailing about the permanent book hiatus; his boss would have their hands full dealing with insurance over the architectural damage; and that hot-and-cold cucumber bro of his would still be nagging him in the afterlife, criticizing him for his stupid plan when it ‘clearly would’ve been better to do such and such’. But back to him.

We are gathered here to mourn the passing of one Shang Qinghua, a bright hamster that was taken from Earth far too soon. His exhibit work was flawless, his knack for collections cataloging unrivaled. There was never a day without bountiful office supplies with him around. We thank him for his singular brave—foolish?—sacrifice in the name of historical value. Shang Qinghua is survived by several dying houseplants and the stray dog he usually fed on his way home from work.

There. That sounded as good as he was likely to get. Wait. No. He almost left out the most important part: the secret letter of last words meant only for cucumber bro’s eyes. Bro, if you’re reading this it’s because I died a terrible and scary death. Please take pity and wipe all of my search history. It was all for research, honest! It’s bad taste to judge a dead man.

The access door to the roof was large and imposing in front of him, even though there was still no noise coming from the other side. He was going to be mad and then relieved, in that exact order, if this turned out to be nothing.

He inhaled. Exhaled. Jumped around and shook his hands where they hung down beside the length of his body. He’d watched enough athletes—for research!—throughout his short life and getting loose always seemed to pump them up for competition. The same principle should apply here.

The door gave with a loud screech and he suspected that it wasn’t in regular use. Not that there was probably much to see up there anyway. Just roosting pigeons, stone slabs, and—

His mind went blank.

Crouching in the corner, so close to the edge that all it would take was a gust of wind to send him tumbling down, was some sort of winged creature. And the wings were massive things that arched up before curving downward completely over it’s back, the tips draped on the ground. Judging by how large they were, they had to be functional, which nearly caused him to wet himself. 

He didn’t want to imagine that thing taking flight after him. Not that he would be exciting prey. Gods, this probably how a mouse felt when a hawk was flying overhead.

But it was the horns that really caught his attention. They were hulking black spirals and the sharp points were pointed right at him. Even in the poor light, it was obvious that they were pure black. Any other time, he might comment on how cool they actually were, how they were a cosplayer’s dream, but it wasn’t cool when it was a matter of life and death. 

And he would most certainly die if those menacing horns and wings were any indication.

Trying to keep the element of surprise, he slowly let the door swing shut. Until a little bat started flew over squeaking, which caused him to squeak as well. The door hit the frame with a loud rattle. His body went heavy with fear and his eyes snapped shut, a natural prey response. He had never, ever been this scared.  

Not patient enough for Shang Qinghua to turn around on his own, the creature flung him around to face it with an aggressive growl. And he had thought it was loud when he was on the sidewalk. Which wasn’t true at all. It was much louder and more intimidating when it was right in his face.

“Trespasser!” it growled, teeth clicking.

…Okay, so it could talk. Maybe this was a good thing. Now could grovel with it to spare him!

Blinking rapidly, he opened his eyes and looked up, up, up. It didn’t look as horrific from the front as it did the back. In fact, it had a humanoid appearance and was distinctly male. He was the hottest thing he’d ever seen, a total fantasy come to life. How the hell was he real?

His was incredibly tall, his huge wings proportional to his size now that he was standing up. Now that he saw them up close, Shang Qinghua noticed that they were a beautiful shade of blue that started out dark but lightened to pale blue once it reached the tips, which also had sharp spikes—Nails? Claws? He wasn’t well versed in anatomy—attached.

The top of his ears were pointy, too, just like the tops of the wings. Oh, and the horns! There were two of them, both pure, glossy obsidian, that sprouted out on either side of his temple, the bases thick and ridged as they spiraled like a ram’s. The only difference was that his horns were much larger. He could maul someone with those along if he wasn’t careful.

But now that he considered it more—even in times of crisis, he could multi-task when it really counted—the horns only added more to his attractiveness. They were intimating, sure, but also sexy, in a monsterfucking type of way. He gasped as a clawed hand wrapped around his throat. Yep, he could definitely get into the horns and claws. Mark him down as scared and horny.

The growling died down but sharp teeth were still on display, and there was a stylized tattoo-looking mark on his forehead. Despite the snarl, Shang Qinghua instinctively knew that his face was insanely attractive; it had to be to match the rest of him. Speaking of the rest of him…

He dropped down in front of him, making sure to drag his hands down that ripped physique and gave his massive pectorals a quick squeeze before he landed on his knees in a kneeling position. 

His face was right in front of the creature’s impressive package, covered only by a flimsy loin cloth. It fluttered in the night breeze and he had to bite down on his finger to stop his depraved moaning. “Ff-forgive me, my good-demon-sir, but I swear I’m not trespassing. I’m a humble worker here at this museum.”

He quickly took out his employee badge to offer it up to the demon who barely gave it a glance. “Gargoyle,” it said in reply.

“Oh. I’m sorry but I don’t really know what you mean by that.” Wait, why did he say that? He didn’t want to get further in the demon’s bad side than he already was! “I mean no offense, of course. I’m sure gargoyles are absolutely lovely—”

“No,” he interrupted, his face smoothed out into blank slate. It made it harder to read him but Shang Qinghua quickly decided that it was alright. “I am a gargoyle, human. You may address me as Mobei Jun.”

Ohhh. Now that he mentioned it, his wings and horns could belong to a gargoyle. He knew that they were popular parts historical buildings that had a strong Western influence, which the museum did.

“And I am a king. Not a sir.”

Curse his authority kink. He was sure that any new fantasies he conjured up would be staring this particular king and Shang Qinghua as his servant.

“Of course, my king! You’re reeking of kingly handsomeness. As a lowly human, my apologies for the obvious mistake.” The gargoyle king didn’t make any move to acknowledge his words other than a slow blink, so he figured that it was all good. “Excuse me if this sounds rude, but what are you doing up here? And what was all the noise about?”

“Guardian. I was charged with the safety of this place by a war lord.” Jeez. So he’d been with the building for centuries at least, maybe even millennia.

There was a pause and he realized that he wasn’t going to answer the second question. It also seemed like the gargoyle king was waiting on him and a light bulb went off. “S-sorry again my king. I am Shang Qinghua. I am in charge of the rare artifacts inside of the building, so you may see me closing up most nights.”

The gargoyle king nodded sagely and he figured that the role must be acceptable to him. A loud sigh left him and his muscles relaxed just in the slightest way. He might survive this encounter yet. Ever better, survive and be able to go home and break out that new bottle of lube that he bought last week. There was plenty of new material to work with, that was for sure.

Then the gargoyle stepped back, giving him more space, which was actually the opposite of what he wanted. Feel free to punish him for earlier transgressions, king, especially if they were rough in a sexy way!

Unaware of his inner pleadings, he continued walking away to crouch back near the edge of the roof.

“Umm, be careful, king. It’s dangerous to be that close—”

“I am a king. Concerns such as that are not applicable,” he said, puffing up his chest. Those pecs! He might have to put in a request tomorrow to do more work on the roof. It was a crime that no one was admiring that body on a regular basis. “Leave. Return home. The circles under your eyes are hideous.”

He gasped, touching his bags. Rude! He had just finished a long shift and definitely wasn’t at his best. He was going to have to step up his game if he was going to tempt this gargoyle in the future. Trying his best not to show embarrassment, or disappointment, he agreed to leave.

“Whatever you want, my king. I’ll leave for now but if you need anything, I’ll be back tomorrow and the day after as well. In fact, every night, in case you need me.” Screw his weekend off. Who needed one of those when there was a hot gargoyle of legend serving as the guardian of the museum. Not him, that’s who.

He scrambled to his feet and bowed again for good measure. The door was open and he was across the threshold when his dream gargoyle muttered something. “Did you say something, my king?”

He cleared his throat and spoke gruffly. “The pigeons pooped in my hair.”

Suddenly, the growling from earlier made sense. No matter if you were human or gargoyle, having birds shit in your hair, especially hair as luscious as Mobei Jun’s, was bound to make anyone furious.

Determined to keep his laughs to himself if it was the last thing he did, he merely replied, “Yes, my king. I will make sure to chase them away from you next time.”

“See that you do.”

On cloud nine, Shang Qinghua grinned as he bounded down the stairwell. The gargoyle’s comment implied that there would be a next time. And he intended to romance the loincloth off (literally) of the serious gargoyle king.

Hope you all enjoyed! So happy to share this with everyone. Thanks for reading :)

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Soulmarks, Part 5

First part

Previous

~~~

The air left her lungs. Her suit was the only thing keeping her in one piece as he rolled over her.

Part of her just wanted to lay there and let him run her over again as she watched him come to a stop and start pushing his way back towards her, her entire body ached and screamed with every little movement, but she couldn’t let Chat’s sacrifice be in vain.

She pushed herself to her feet and watched Tim pick up speed. While he definitely had brute force on his side, his ability to make quick turns and stops was extremely limited.

Marinette jumped out of the way right before he could hit her again and he rolled right past, slamming into the white soldiers and toppling a huge group like bowling pins. He didn’t seem all that concerned with the bumps as he slowed to a stop and then started back in her direction again.

Hm…

She ducked through the crowds and grinned widely as Tim followed after her with no real regard for all the soldiers he was mowing down. They didn’t have magic suits to hold them together, so it affected them far more than her.

“HEY!” Yelled Bona-parts, who had finally noticed the commotion.

She sent him a cheeky wave and started in his direction.

The man was too smart to get bowled over, quickly dodging her/Tim’s attack, but she didn’t care about that as she knelt down and scooped Adrien up. She sent a wink as she ducked out the park and began running down the streets, Tim on her tail and rapidly gaining speed.

She slipped down an alley a while away that was too small for Tim to fit through. She set Adrien down.

Her soulmate groaned in irritation and punched the forcefield. Bright green light threatened to blind her and when she looked back Tim had been thrown back so hard he’d rolled a few meters.

He looked down at his hand and she could practically see the gears turning in his head. There was a short moment where he didn’t seem to know what to do. Then he shook out his hand and got to his feet.

He stepped back for a running start and then crashed into the alley.

Marinette was horrified to find that the building crumbled a little with the force.

He backed up and started again.

She listened to the dull thumping of the force-field crashing against the corners of the buildings repeatedly. The buildings would eventually cave, but that was a problem for a few minutes from now.

She wanted to lay down, but she knew that if she would she wouldn’t be able to get up. Instead, she settled for leaning heavily against a wall and resting her head back.

After a few minutes she finally managed to steady her breathing enough to speak: “You’re fucking stupid, you know that?”

“I think my plan worked,” he muttered, his face a bit pale as he pulled his broken leg to his chest. “Just… not how I intended.”

She shook her head slightly. “That’s literally the definition of a plan not working… but okay, sure.”

He sent her a slight glare and probably would have kicked her if either of their bodies could take it.

“Plagg, claws out,” he murmured, and there was a crunching sound as the suit forced his leg back into its normal shape. He pushed himself to his good foot and then slowly started applying pressure onto his bad one to get it used to holding his weight. “Well, we have…” He looked at the steadily crumbling wall as Tim ran into it again. “Around five minutes to plan before your soulmate makes this place cave in on top of us.”

She nodded and pulled out her yoyo. She messed with it anxiously as they thought.

She couldn’t come up with anything. Did it matter if she could, though? All the plans that she had employed that night had backfired spectacularly.

Ah, she could hear footsteps in the distance. They must have finished up Alya and Nino’s execution.

“They’re going to find us,” said Adrien.

She looked at Tim and cringed. He was right, unfortunately. A ball of pure light was hard to miss, and the sun was beginning to set. She may as well have had a neon sign over her head saying ‘Ladybug! Over here! Come get her!’

Her eyes found Adrien’s and she sent him a weak grin.

“Actually… they’re going to find me.”

~

She tore through the streets, Tim rolling after her.

She had considered trying to lose him through back streets and alleys, but decided against it. Even if it was a pain to dodge his attacks every few seconds, he was useful for taking down the soldiers.

She grinned as she turned a corner and saw the first group of soldiers. She glanced back and saw Tim slowing and then restarting in her direction.

She stood still, watching both of them coming at her.

She vaulted over the force field and grinned as Tim bowled over the guards. He turned around and rolled over them again as he started back in her direction.

Good, they wouldn’t be getting up any time soon.

She tried not to think about the fact that these were once people. After all, they were mindless zombies right now. She was putting them out of their misery.

Or, at least, she hoped.

But, since she could think of no other solutions, she continued using Tim to mow them down in droves.

As time went on, and the sky got darker, more and more soldiers started appearing, drawn by the light.

She could tell her soulmate was getting more and more frustrated as she dodged his attacks, but it wasn’t as if he could really change his strategy. There wasn’t much else he could do. He just had to hope she eventually tired herself out enough for him to land a hit.

And she was getting tired. And she could feel her injuries worsening the more strain she put on them. Her ladybug suit helped, but it could only do so much.

She was running out of time...

God, where was Bona-parts when you actually want to see him?

Oh. There he was. She reconsidered wanting to see him as her eyes found his blood-covered axe.

At least she knew where the akuma was.

She smiled and sent a wave to Bona-parts and then rolled to the side as Tim came past her.

The akuma dodged as well and stopped for a second to concentrate. She paused and looked around, waiting for the rumbling that accompanied the soldiers’ arrival…

But there was none.

“Where are they?”

She shrugged, trying not to let her relief show. “Would you like me to show you? I need to run from that guy anyways.”

“You do, do you?” He said thoughtfully.

“Try and use it against me if you want. Don’t think you have a way of pinning me down that won’t get you hurt, too, and my buddy here isn’t all that concerned with extra casualties.”

She saw Bona-parts take in the way that the green glow of the force field was somewhat muted and grimy. As if it were covered in a thin layer of paint.

“You killed them?”

She dodged another attack from Tim and shrugged. “I don’t think you’re one to talk.”

Bona-parts opened their mouth to respond and then whipped around, axe swinging. They missed Chat’s nose by centimeters.

Marinette cursed. There went that idea.

She pulled out her yoyo.

She glanced back at Tim and sighed. He was barreling towards them again. Fun.

Something clicked in her mind and she grinned as she gave Bona-parts a quick kick to the side. He scowled and turned his axe on her, swinging it --.

She jumped over his attack and he hit Tim’s forcefield. A beam of bright light forced her to look away momentarily.

She peeked her eyes open hesitantly.

Her soulmate had rolled an entire city block and was now lying unconscious in his bubble (or, at least, she hoped he was just unconscious, the kid had gone through enough).

Then her eyes found their way to Bona-parts. He was struggling to pull his axe out of where it had gotten stuck in a nearby building.

Chat grinned and pressed a finger to it. “Cataclysm.”

Marinette breathed a sigh of relief as she captured the akuma. Now all that was left was --.

Fuck. The lucky charm. She didn’t use her lucky charm at all during the battle…

Well, apparently it was a good thing that she’d summoned those handcuffs earlier after all.

She pulled them from her belt and smiled. “Miraculous Ladybug.”

Ladybugs swirled around everyone and she felt her bones mending under her suit. Cool, now she could actually take it off later without turning into mush.

She walked over to Tim and her eyes widened as he came into view. The ladybugs had helped him, too. His skin had been returned to a healthy shade and his hair was a glossy black.

Sure, it wouldn’t erase the memories of what had happened, but at least he wouldn’t have a constant reminder every time he looked in the mirror.

He curled up inside the bubble and rested his head inside his hands.

She looked away from her soulmate. She didn’t know if he was crying or just confused about why his likely concussion had disappeared, but it felt wrong to watch and find out.

Chat walked over and leaned against his baton as he smiled at her. “Well, Bona-parts is dealt with. Apparently, she worked at Amazon.”

Marinette nodded. “That explains it.”

He shrugged. “Yeah.”

She watched Tim slowly start to stir and winced. She really did not want to do any more fighting right now��

“Think you can do a portal to the bottom of a staircase?”

“Yeah. Why were you in an abandoned building, anyways?”

“Long story. Wanna meet some American superher --? Oh, wait, no, vigilantes. They call themselves vigilantes over there.”

He grinned. “Are they too good to be heroes?”

“Too bad, apparently. Even though they don’t have the balls to kill anyone.”

“Losers.”

“Absolutely. Wanna meet them?”

“I’d love to.”

Kaalki opened a portal underneath the three of them and they found themselves back in Arkham.

~~~

Next part

Taglist

@pawsitivelymiraculous @golden-promises @salty-fang @kitsunebell @sassakitty @octobitch @glastwime859 @miyla-lokidottir @onlyabatfan @ira-sairain @2confused-2doanything @ultimatetornshipper @ladybug-182 @laurcad123 @we-want-mini-mini @roguishredaxion @just-reblogs-by-h @futursworld @magic-miraculous @nathleigh @smolplantmum

[when-i-was-your-angel]

Hues of Blue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes (40's and Present)

Word Count: 1486

NSFW: Non-Explicit

TW: Rage attacks, Steve being angry

Tags: ANGST, Minor Fluff but mostly Angst

A/N: This is set between TFA and TWS! Steve still thinks Bucky died in the war. bold sections are flashbacks.

Summary: Steve tries to paint a portrait of Bucky. What color were his eyes again?

Inspired by my good friend Meral, @/CAPSBVRNES on twitter. Love ya, doll.

Steve had a long day.

Said day started with a rather pleasant dream about waking up with Bucky in between his legs. This was quickly ruined by his alarm clock. Little Steve hadn’t seemed to notice that it was, in fact, only a dream. After Steve had er- taken care- of that problem in the shower, Tony called. There was some life or death mission debrief he was needed on. So he drove two hours through New York City traffic to get to the tower, only to find out Tony needed his opinion on what qualified as a “classic” suit. Steve didn’t even dignify him with an answer before he stormed out of the building. Now, four hours later and his day wasted, he was finally arriving back home.

Steve unlocked the front door of his Brooklyn brownstone and stopped dead in his tracks.

Boxes. Boxes upon boxes of… art supplies? Based on the pictures and labels on the boxes they were filled with paints, canvases, brushes, pencils, easels, and more. Steve looked around nervously and spotted a note on top of one of the many cardboard boxes.

Sorry, Capsicle. Had to get you out of the apartment so I could deliver this shit.

Paint me something pretty.

-T.S.

A hesitant smile made its way onto Steve’s face. His day just got a whole lot better.

- - - Three Hours Later - - -

A few hours, a shit ton of cursing, and a helping of elbow grease later, Steve had himself an art studio. He had set up the three easels Tony got him, positioning them in front of the windows in the office of his brownstone. There was also a simple desk in one of the boxes that he rather enjoyed the look of. It was simple but made of solid oak. He could just picture Tony saying ‘It’s old fashioned, like ye ol’ Cappie.’

With a slight grunt, Steve stood and looked around his new studio. He hadn’t had something so… domestic in years. He smiled and unwrapped a canvas, sitting down in front of an easel. He raised a pencil to his canvas to begin sketching… and nothing happened. “S’pose seventy years and a cryogenic freeze gives you art block.” He thought.

Steve stood and walked around the few rooms in his modest house, looking for inspiration. His gaze flickered over his photo album. “That’ll do.”

He picked up the leather book, flipping through it. There weren’t many pictures. It had been difficult to get a photo back in the 40’s, and he didn’t have many people to take pictures of nowadays. A few pictures of his ma, one of him in the third grade, and- Bucky.

A black and white version of his best friend sat before him. He was told not to smile in his military ID photo, but the little shit found a way to flash a grin right as the camera clicked. The photographer had been too lazy to redo it- and that was it. Bucky was smiling like a damn runaway criminal in his personnel file. Steve worked the picture out of the clear film holding it in place. He had gotten the photo from SHIELD’s files. It was one of few pictures of Bucky in existence. Less than a dozen original copies were left on this earth. He ran his fingers over the sharp of his Bucky’s cheekbone and the plump of his lips. He remembered all the cold New York nights when those lips sat on his neck. Bucky would spoon him- ‘For warmth’ - he said. But the pink lips on the shell of his ear, on the pulse carrying his life’s blood, said it was for so much more.

So Steve went back to his new art studio and sat down in front of his easel again. He clipped the small photo to the wooden frame and picked up his pencil. He took a deep breath and started sketching. He bit his lip in concentration as he worked. After thirty minutes or so, Steve had a drawing that resembled something like his best friend. He smiled and set to work mixing his paints.

Steve always started with the skin. Habit of his from before when he was using cocktail napkins and a waiters pen to draw. He managed to nail Bucky’s complexion pretty much spot on. The cool shades of his under-eye and the baby pink ones of his cheeks.

Then came hair. Shades of brown highlighted with yellow and pink in the lightest of spots. Bucky always hated how thick his hair was but loved the effect it had on the ladies. Said it was a pain in the ass to take care of but it was all worth it when he brushed a hand through the locks and had all the girls positively swooning.

Next was clothes. The green of his fatigues wasn’t perceptible in the black and white photograph but Steve knew that color better than the color of his own eyes.

Eyes.

What color were Bucky’s eyes?

Blue. But there were a million shades of blue. Cerulean, teal, turquoise, baby blue, stormy blue- Ah. Yes. A stormy blue-grey color. He could see them now. Staring into the crisp ocean of his eyes as Bucky kissed him for the first time. He was smaller back then, barely came up to Bucky’s chin, but he didn’t care.

December 1941 - Four Days Before Bucky Leaves

“Hey, Stevie.” Bucky said after Steve opened his door to the frigid New York City air.

“Hey, Buck. What’re you doing here?” It was a reasonable question. It was midnight and Buck hadn’t been by in days.

“Can’t visit my best guy before I ship off to war?” Bucky gave him his smirk but Steve could see the fear in his eyes. The unspoken ending to that question- ‘before I never come home’. Steve smiled and stepped aside, letting him in.

Steve smiled at the memory. He looked down at the paints before him. Blues and whites and purples and reds. He started mixing them carefully, hoping to put a physical representation of the color he still saw in his dreams.

“C’mon. I’ll make you something to eat.” Steve said, walking towards his very empty kitchen.

“You don’t have’ta-”

“None of that. What would Mrs. Rogers say if she knew I wasn’t feeding my guests?”

“She’d call you smart and tell you not to waste your food on a dead-” Bucky stopped himself. That’s not what Steve needed to hear. Steve was quiet as he made his way across the threshold back to Bucky. He stared down at his hands, picking at his fingernails.

“You’re going to come back. You’ve gotta.” His voice was small. Bucky’s heart nearly shattered at the sound. Bucky took Steve’s hands in his, squeezing them slightly.

“I will. I promise.” Bucky stared into Steve’s eyes to reassure him that above anything else, he meant the words he was about to say.

The colors weren’t turning out right. Greens were too blue and blues were too purple. Everything was a mess. Steve felt himself growing frustrated and brought his mind back to simpler times. Times with him.

“I’m always going to come back to you because-” His breath hitched and Steve took notice, eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“Because I love you, Stevie.” Steve tilted his head in confusion. Why did Bucky seem so nervous? They had said they loved each other before.

“Yeah, I love you too, Buck- why’re you-”

“Oh, not like that- for Christ’s sake.” Then Bucky was kissing him.

‘So this is what love is.’ Steve thought. Then Bucky’s tongue was tracing Steve’s lips.

Oh.

Oh.

Paint was everywhere. Frantically, Steve mixed colors in a blur of tears. ‘It’s not right.’ He thought. ‘That’s not him.’ ‘That’s not my Bucky.’

Bucky shared his bed that night. Unlike other nights, however, they were both naked. Pressed against each other for ‘warmth’, should anyone ask. Steve watched Bucky long after he fell asleep. The crease in his eyebrow, the setting of his jaw, the way his eyes moved behind closed lids- chasing dreams. Soon enough, Steve curled into Bucky’s body as he always did. They spent the next four days like that. Wrapped in each other. And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t cold.

Steve screamed as he threw his palette out the window. The glass shattered and rainbows of light filtered through the broken glass- mocking him. Steve kicked and cried and punched until the entire studio was a mess. In the aftermath of his rampage, Steve lies on the floor. Surrounded by glass, paint, splinters, and blood, Steve sobbed. He broke because he was gone. He crumbled because they didn’t have enough time. He was wrecked because ‘if only we had known. If only we had tried earlier.’

Steve lies on the ground in a brownstone in Brooklyn.

Numb.

Broken.

Cold.

[ktheist]

the ways to call you mine

[7:22]

the man that your father decided to bring home is of an unknown origin. or so he claims. based on his attire when he first stepped into your house, you know he’s at least a noble. though there’s no insignia engraved in on his collar or back, the way taehyung carries himself shows years of refine etiquette and manner.

“then, i’ll be off,” your father sets the teacup on its saucer, breaking your fixed stare on the man across from you and turn to the elder man with a smile sweeter than honey.

“have a good day, papa!” the arm you use to wave at the man shoots down as soon as the carriage is out of sight. and the smile you wear is contorted into a sneer.

clicking your tongue, you shoot a glare at the unwelcomed guest next to you. sure, he may have the perfect shade of tan, matched with unruly hair that easily allows him to hide his expressions with just a tilt of his head downwards. but those eyes - they remind you so much of yourself.

they’re induced with warmth and gentleness in front of your father, but as soon as the man is out of sight, that glare of his rivals your own.

“just wait till i find out which house you belong to and what secrets you hold to trick my poor old merchant father into taking you in.”

the corner of taehyung’s lips lift into an unpleasant scoff as he swats your finger away, “i’d like to see you try, peaches.”

did you say his superficiality rivaled yours? you take that back. even you aren’t as evil as the devil incarnate.

and he dares to call you by the nickname your father and late mother gives you. to insult your late mother’s memory so - he’s the opposite of what he displays himself to be in front of your father and the townspeople. 

because you’re from a rising merchant faction, you don’t have maids or butlers. so it’s only just the two of you at home and unfortunately so, allows you to bear witness to this man’s true, wicked nature.

“nobles are the same everywhere,” you huff, swiping the creme colored hat hanging off the hatstand and pulling it over your head, “they’re self-centered, arrogant and lack respect for others.”

he stands with his back on you and the handle of an axe clasped underneath his arm as he puts on the gloves before getting to chopping the woods at the back. when you’re only met with silence instead of one of his witless retorts, you trudge out with a, “don’t forget to lock the front door!”

x

your days are spent at the orphanage and helping out the old lady by the forest with her garden. though you want to quickly find out what taehyung’s hiding, you haven’t the slightest clue of who and where to look for.

“thinking about that young man again?” esmeralda’s fading green eyes captures yours. she always seems like the secrets of the world hover over her like dark clouds.

the glass ball sitting prettily on the table in front of her is filled with clouds today. when she uses it, the clouds disappear and are replaced by a blur of images that you can’t make out.

“it’s because your magic hasn’t awakened yet, young one,” she once told you when she saw your knitted eyes as you peered at the ever changing images trapped inside the ball.

“come here,” the woman gestures, her wrinkled hands sometimes appear taut and stretched over her bones like that of a young woman but most times, she appears the way you see her now - graying hair, smile lines and fading emerald eyes.

one of these days, you fear you’d walk into an empty forest and the ground where the house is built, filled with blades of grass.

a clueless smile makes its way to your lips as you place a hand on the one she has extended midair.

“i cannot give the answers you seek.” she smooths out your palm, eyes trained on the lines that slants across it, “only you can find them.”

“hm?” you cock your head to the side at the sudden images that appear within the ball after esmeralda guides your hand over it.

at first, it’s a blur of colors from black to brown to something lighter until you can finally make out the man sitting on a throne, his ice cold gaze sending chills down your spine.

“taehyung...” the name comes out as a soft whisper. as though you’re afraid that the image of the man would hear and see you through the glass.

but the images is disappears into the usual clouds as soon as the knock on the door reverberates across the room.

“why don’t you see who’s at the door, child?” she requests. understandably, her bones aren’t as strong and her feet doesn’t carry her as fast as whoever knocking on the door desires.

to your surprise, a familiar figure cringes at the sight of you. but you don’t have the time to let annoyance take over you like it usually does, “taehyung? why are you here?”

only women and male descendants of the royal family can see this house.

“what do you mean why i’m here? it’s almost sunset and you’re still not back yet. your father’s worried you might’ve gotten eaten by-” he grumbles before something past your shoulders catches his eyes.

“is that...”

as soon as he tries to take a step forward, you softly press your hand on his chest, stepping out and closing the door behind you.

“let’s go, it’s almost dark and your noble brain didn’t even think of bringing a lantern.” you point out, neck craning to hold his gaze but the insult is enough to pull his brows together in annoyance.

“if it weren’t for me, you would’ve had to walk back on your own - in. the. dark.” he emphasizes the last part, eyes burning holes inside your head as you blatantly ignore him.

“hey,” he says, clearly ticked off, “are you listening?”

that’s when you stop in your trek and he must notice the change of atmosphere when he falls quiet from next to you.

“taehyung,” you meet his startled gaze, “you’re the missing crown prince, aren’t you?”

those round eyes sharpen into the all-too-familiar glare, “i’m not. and you don’t have any proof.” the latter statement feels forced. as if added as an afterthought.

“so it’s true.” you surmise, clicking your tongue. “i was willing to put up with you even if you’re a noble - but you’re the crown prince... do you know your order to burn anyone suspected of magical use, caused my mother’s death?”

judging from how his eyes soften, he doesn’t seem to know.

“leave our home,” you twirl on your heels, continuing your path back to the estate, “you have no business leeching off a family whose mother and wife you killed.”

when morning comes, the seat across from you is empty and deserted. your father thought taehyung might have overslept and you promise to check up on him after he leaves for work.

but you already know he left in the dead of the night. you saw his lean built step  out of the gates but he stopped and looked straight at your window where you’d been standing. as if he knew.

the expression he made was indecipherable but you know the weight of knowledge when you see it. there was something he knew but couldn’t tell you.

the days go on like they would as if the guest bedroom had never been occupied since last year. as if the chopped firewood are miraculously stacked next to the fireplace. as if he never existed.

then, your father proposes moving to the capital because he wants to open a stationary shop for the children and teachers. there are more hard times than good ones. you see your father breakdown on his own in his office every night after three months and with little customers coming in. that’s when you met jimin - the wizard that taught you that a little incantation to draw attention to the store, can’t hurt.

“if the things you sell are as good as you claim them to be-”

“-they are!” 

“-then there’s no reason for the customers who got drawn in by magic, not to buy it with their own free will once they see the items themselves.”

ever since then, the business have been doing good and you’ve been attending classes to control your magic - in courtesy of jimin who then left to wander the world. it doesn’t occur to you that you’re not the only one lurking around alleyways and ducking into shadows, on your way to a destination - where your magic classes are held.

“what do we have here?” a burly man steps out of a shadow and blocks your path. “where are you heading to little lady? don’t you know there are wolves that come out to play at night?”

you know your demand for him to leave you alone will fall on deaf ears but you still try. when he advances and even grasps your left hand to tug you into a smaller alley, you’ve no choice but to flick your wand and let the purple light of your magic knock the man unconscious.

what you don’t expect is for a witness to be standing six feet away from where you just mutter an, “why can’t men mind their own business?”

you’re about to whip out your wand again - a memory erasure spell should suffice - when the figure steps into the light and you find yourself staring at a familiar deep brown eyes. they’re still as sharp as the last time you saw them but there’s something different about how he takes the bottom of his lip between his teeth. as if he wants to say something but can’t.

“so you’re learning magic.” he asserts, not ask.

still, you refute, “i’m not.” but you can’t accuse him of having no evidence like he did to you. back in that forest. back when you last talked to him.

“i’m sorry,” the shadow next to you stops and you’re forced to whirl around to face the man whose head is lowered by invisible weight, “th-the emperor was attacked by a wizard - i never thought my careless declaration to capture the wizard would be twisted until innocent people would be dragged out of their homes and burned at the stakes for being suspected of magic use.”

“i forgive you,” you say simply, and he must have been so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he nods right away, muttering, “that’s right, you shouldn’t for-”

those eyes that always directed you with hostility are staring at you with wide eyes. perhaps he’s not a devil incarnate after all.

perhaps, he’s just human.

“i understand how you feel,” casting your gaze over your shadows, you recall the times when something like just now happened. it wasn’t the first and it won’t be the last.

“i thought, why can’t men just disappear? the world would be so much better without them.” but you think of your father and taehyung and the townspeople’s husbands who sent you two away with teary eyed and promises to help in case you ever need it. “but to pass on judgement to an entire race...” you shake your head, “...that’ll make me just like them, if not worse.”

you talk about many other things. like how taehyung is supposed to succeed the throne but he couldn’t - not when his people are still suffering and the streets are unsafe for the women.

“i can’t completely eradicate the crimes,” his eyes are back to their sharp stare as he fixes his gaze on the pavement, elbows on each knee, “i don’t want to pass a law that can get twisted and cause innocent people to die either.”

you know he’s referring to the bill that was hurriedly pushed after the failed assassination of the emperor. 

“i never knew you had these thoughts,” you let out a wry sigh, “you always acted like you didn’t want to involve yourself with anything in case it becomes a big unnecessary mess.”

“your mother’s life and the rest of the people that were burned at the stakes weren’t ‘unnecessary mess’.” the voice that always retorted your every sentence now speaks like a responsible and rational man.

“even if she was a witch?” you don’t know how you could smile but you do and it genuinely reflects the weightlessness that fills your chest.

he has no response to that.

“i think it’s because i get to speak to you one more time - i got the closure that i never knew i needed,” your shadow stands up with you, its hands stretched over its head from having sit on the bench for too long.

“i hope you can find it in you to forgive yourself too, taehyung,” you intend to part without leaving any traces behind. of course, he’s the crown prince and he can find out where you live with a flick of his fingers but from the way his head is almost rolling off the ground - your mother would writhe in her grave if she knew her daughter grew up to be the kind of person that would leave a person to their demons and not even try to help.

so you leave him with an incantation. wherever he is, if he so wishes it, he’ll be able to find his way to the shop.

after months pass without a sign of him, you’re almost familiar with the idea that that night was truly your last goodbye. until one fine day, you’re arguing with the kids who demand why you can’t sell two pencils for the price of one but can sell three for the prince of two and a half.

“you little brats...” your facial muscles ache with every passing second you force the smile to stay.

the bell over the door chimes in notice of a new customer. you’re almost glad that you can finally shoo these kids away.

“welcome!”

until you notice the stern gaze that locks with yours and then travels to the little rascals that goes up just above your waist. almost as though they’ve seen a ghost, they hurriedly bid you farewell and march out of the shop.

he comes to stand in front of you. this time, the gold and crimson crest of the royal family is etched on the chest of his jacket.

“peaches, did the kids leave?” your father steps out of the office only to stop dead in his trek, blink once and then another time before a smile breaks across his face, “your highness, welcome back.”

the shock of your father knowing exactly what taehyung’s identity barely wears off before you’re hit with the fresh smell of your favorite cookies being served.

he doesn’t even let you have more than two and he’s serving a whole plate to this freeloader-turned-prince!

“it’s been awhile hasn’t it, your highness? how have you been?” the man hasn’t stopped smiling since - it’s even more irritating that you can see his aura change from teal to pink.

“wait a minute,” you finally say, an accusatory glare fixed on both of them, “i think i deserve an explanation!”

“oh,” your father lowers his head to the younger man sitting across from you, “apologies, your highness. ___’s usually a cheerful and outgoing person, you must know,” he chuckles, “you’ve lived with us for over a year. the shock must have not worn off yet.”

“don’t worry, sir,” taehyung shoots him a composed smile while glancing your way, bringing the tea you brewed to his mouth, murmuring, “i know exactly how ___ is,” before sipping the drink.

it’s a threat. he’s blackmailing you about telling your father of your night classes. you almost rip the hair out of his head in your fury but you make sure to put on your sweetest smile for your father after that.

“i’ll be dropping by some time,” he murmurs under his breath when you escort him out of the shop.

“yeah, well, make sure to buy something next time.” is all you say.

x

he drops by every week for a whole year. either it’s for a cup of tea, to help your dad with arranging the stationary according to their uses or just to wait for you until the shop closes so you could take a walk around town. nobody recognizes him as the crown prince thanks to your distortion magic.

there hasn’t been a spot where you haven’t visited in the city. and there hasn’t been a spell taehyung hasn’t seen you do.

“you’re going to class every night and waking up at the crack of dawn to run the shop, aren’t you tired?” the knit of his brows tells you he-

“oh, what’s this? are you worried about me?” you don’t bother hiding the snicker that sends your shoulder line jolting.

“whatever,” with that, he shoots to a side glance and throws his gaze to somewhere ahead, “if you get sick, don’t come calling me for help.”

it’s a moment later that you give a proper answer, “i got a late start because mother subdued my magic when she found out the humans are coming for us so i want to learn as many spells as i can quickly and beat jimin - you know that wizard that i told you about that helped us gain attention?”

you’re not sure if taehyung is still in that dark alley with a cloak over his head, hiding in the shadow.

but as you trace the gentle curve of his nose, to his stunning jawline and the shoulders that stand straight as he walks next to you, you think, perhaps, he’s found that closure too.

“what?” his eyebrows knit together as he stares back at you.

“hm,” the corners of your lips tuck upwards, “i don’t like you but my mother would have showered you with all the cara and affection in the world since she knows i’m the one who keeps picking fights, probably.”

instead of questioning your sanity, he comes to a sudden halt. eyes boring into you like a hurt puppy, “d-do you think so?”

“silly,” the laughter that trickles from your lips is one of the many you’ve shared with him and your father back in the shop’s lounge room, “i know so.”

taehyung falls to a squat in the middle of the street - if it weren’t for the sun setting and people retreating into their homes, he would have been cursed out for blocking the way.

“hey, even if you’re tired, you should at least say so we could find a bench to sit at or something.” you’re about to tap his shoulder when his hand wraps around your wrist.

he cranes his neck to meet your eyes. the naturally sharp gaze appears softer in the yellow-brown rays.

“i thought meeting you every week and making sure you’re fine was the least i could do for your late mother,” carefully, he begins to entangle your fingers together, “but i can’t - i- i love you.”

[mythiica]

amber astrolabe | ikevam | leonardo

title |  amber astrolabe fandom | ikemen vampire character | leonardo da vinci  genre | angst, bittersweet warnings | well i dont kill anyone, but i dont make any promises for your feels intended gender audience | neutral audience  word count | 2.1k pov | second person  check out the others in this collection | comte, mozart other comments | reuploading! i decided to edit it a bit before doing so, sorry for the wait

The museum looms in front of you, practically swallowing you with its grand glory as it reaches for the sky. Sunlight sparkles in the new windows, yet to be touched by peoples’ hands as they stare into the street. Even from the outside, you can see the top of the arched glass roof letting natural light pour in.

          You remember it when it was the train station and how you would sneak past the guards to climb the stairs hidden behind the walls. Tipping your head back, you squint hard against the bright sun to spot the window of your old room on the top floor. 

         It’s a bad idea to return to the museum– this beautiful building hosts so many memories that are not as wonderful. Still, against your better judgement, you pay your admission ticket like any other tourist that clamours through the doors of the Musée d'Orsay before melting into the crowd. 

         In honor of the museum's grand opening, more people have gathered to see the new displays for themselves. You were specifically interested in the exhibit that you had read about in the newspaper a few days prior. After nearly five decades, the lost works of a famous artist have resurfaced. A trove of sketches – namely hundreds of half-finished drawings of an unknown woman. Pieces of her face were scattered across blueprints, hidden on the backs of oil paintings, and even etched into the lacquer of strange wooden contraptions. 

         You walk past the main exhibit, not really having an interest in seeing the Mona Lisa again. Still, the painting smiles at you from over the churning sea of heads, as if she knows something you do not. 

         Now in the traveling exhibit, you take your time, pacing around to admire the art. You marvel at the broken wing of a plane that did not survive a test run, awe at the elaborate blueprint of a flying machine with gold sails, and even laugh at the obligatory comedic comment that this mystery artist must have had an obsession with someone. 

         However, from the corner of your eye, you notice something glinting in the spotlight just a few meters away. As you approach it, you can’t help but be a tad bit sad to see that it has lost its original shine over the years – in fact, you had held the astrolabe when it was brand new. The hands of the device point towards the end of the exhibit just beyond the corner, but you don’t pay it much attention. Instead, you search your memory, thinking hard to collect the pieces of the past before you can fall against the events that transpired nearly a lifetime ago. 

“Cara mia, close your eyes. I have a gift for you.” 

         “If you drop a screw in my hand again and say you found it behind my ear, I’m going to throw it at you!” 

         His laugh rumbles deep in his chest, but you close your eyes to humor him. Without wasting a moment, he takes your hand and presses a cold, circular object into your palm. “You can look now.” 

         Your eyes flutter open, but you don’t know what to say. “A pocket watch? Did you steal this from Arthur?!” 

         “No.” He pulls the lid back to reveal a much more complicated interior. You take a moment to admire the fine engravings around the edge of the disk before your eyes graze over the centre of the object: an oblong piece of metal resembling the hands of a clock stretch across the diameter, overlapping the intricate second layer that sits atop what looks like a miniature map of the world. It is a deep copper color, and you immediately think of his eyes. They are nearly the same shade of amber, so deep and intoxicating that you wonder if he made it like this on purpose. “It is an astrolabe.” 

         “Well, it looks like you took a watch and a compass and made some… strange hybrid. What does it do?” 

         When he cups his hand over yours, your breath catches in the back of your throat. His hands are so large and warm. “It’s used to calculate the position of the Sun and other stars in the sky. Here, I’ll show you.” Now, his fingers lace with yours, the astrolabe pressed between your palms. It fits there perfectly, as if it were made to be held by your hand and his. 

         The two of you step over the incredible mess that has accumulated over the past week. No matter how hard you try, this place always remains a mess. It is no use to scold him for it now, for he has something set in his mind – nothing you say or do will be able to draw his attention away from showing you what this strange device is capable of doing. 

         He allows you to climb up the winding staircase first. 

         What a gentleman. 

         Then again, it’s the perfect opportunity for him to place his free hand on your waist. To ensure you don’t fall, he explains with the slyest of smirks. 

         Upon reaching the roof of the building, he leads you to the large telescope pointing towards the night sky. A breeze ruffles through your clothes, so he pushes you between the device and his body.  Warmth radiates from his chest, so you lean against him slightly as he explains what he is doing. 

         “This telescope is completely uncalibrated, alright? Cara mia, are you paying attention? Look inside. You’ll see that it is not pointing at anything memorable.” 

         You smile to yourself. He always is so passionate about his work. To humor him, you take a peek through the lense. There is only darkness. 

         “I see.” 

         “Now, if you’ll give me a moment…” Lifting the astrolabe to the sky, he fiddles with it, mutters to himself, and then changes a few settings on the telescope. It swings around to point at a seemingly equal void in the sky – you cannot see anything of importance against the night sky, but he nudges you slightly, prompting you to look through the lense once more. 

         “Is… is that Venus?” 

         “It is!” 

         You lean back and squint, trying hard to see a flicker of green against the black. However, your eyes are too weak to spot anything. “That’s very impressive.” 

         “Oh, but that’s not all!” He side steps around an open box of art supplies and turns over a large piece of paper. It is obviously a flying contraption, but it looks so strange… like it is straight out of a steampunk novel. And is that gold on the sails? How is this thing supposed to fly? 

         Raising an eyebrow, you take a seat on the small stool next to the lamp resting on the ground. “What is it for?” 

         A grin captures his lips. “I’m taking you to the stars. No more sitting around on Earth. I’m tired of this place. When we wed, I promised you a life of adventure. We left the mansion, and now we’re living in the closet of a train station. This isn’t the glamorous life you should have.” 

         “I think it’s pretty fancy, actually–”

         He shakes his head with a laugh, and his dark brown hair falls over his forehead. “We’re going to fly amidst the galaxies that make up the vast universe. How tiny we are, compared to them.” He whips around. “Imagine, reaching your hand out and catching a handful of dust from the time of creation. How amazing that would be…” 

         You laugh, but don’t correct him. Instead, you take his hands between yours again and kiss his calloused knuckles. “Where would you like to go first?” 

         He leans his head against yours and points at the horizon. “Sirius. It is one of the brightest stars in the night sky.” Turning to meet your gaze, he brushes his thumb against your cold cheek. “There is only one star that rivals its beauty. Would you like to know which one?” 

         “Of course.” 

         “A moment, if you please.” 

         Taking a dramatic step backwards, he plays around with the astrolabe until it clicks into place. The long hand is pointing directly at you. 

         “I don’t understand,” you tell him. 

         “Cara mia, you are the brightest star here tonight. You will always be the most beautiful star as well. Trust in that.” 

         You flush at his words, and it is hard to contain your smile. “You’re such a smooth talker, why can’t you put some of that effort into cleaning your room! I swear, it looks worse than it did when I first arrived here. Remember that time I found a mouse amongst your things?!” 

         “Don’t bring Lorenzo into this, he’s done nothing wrong!” 

         The two of you break into a fit of laughter, and that’s when he puts the astrolabe in your palm once more. “This is yours though.” He’s looking at you again with those pools of ochre mischief. “In the case that we are separated before we can reach the stars, use this to find me. Go towards Sirius, and I will meet you there. I’ll wait for you.” 

The white noise of the museum filters into your mind as your eyes flutter open, and you ease back into reality. Tears roll down your cheeks, but you do not move to wipe them. 

         Looking at the astrolabe again, you see the tender scratches against the metal: his initials coupled with yours. An impressive layer of grime dulls the shine of the device, making it less impressive than how it looks in its natural state. 

         A week after he showed you his plans, a tank of a train exploded, plunging the east side of the station in flames. As the fire grew, it stretched to the opposite side, where the hotel was. You had begged him to escape before the roof collapsed, but he insisted on returning for the astrolabe and his telescope, because he had been using it to calculate stars the night before. 

         As you had expected, the wooden beams were not strong enough to withstand the fire but, by some stroke of luck, he managed to thrust you to safety before everything collapsed. 

         Neither him nor the damned astrolabe made it through. 

         A painful hatred for the device burns in your lungs, so you turn away from it and nearly run into someone. Tossing an apology into the air, you hurry forward and move past the rest of the salvaged artworks without paying them much attention. Guilt tugs at your heartstrings and weighs your feet down, retarding your motions. 

         Despite the tears blurring your vision, you throw your head back and glances back at the astrolabe. You don’t know if it is taunting you or trying to tell you something. And yet, your eyes follow the long hand forward, just beyond where you’re standing, until you realize that it is pointing directly at the final, most impressive display of them all. 

         It towers over your head, stretching up the entire length of the wall. Pieces of blueprints, canvases, loose papers, wood, and more are all arranged to create a larger than life depiction of– you. 

         The eyes.. Her nose.. That beauty spot on her cheek that you hate… it is all there. He had to have reproduced it all from memory because you don’t remember him taking any photographs or sketches of her. 

         In the bottom corner, you see a plaque: 

         Believed to be a portrait of his lover, our favourite artist would have had to spend years creating this piece: in fact, our experts needed months to put the pieces together in order to reveal a face! In the left margin of the paper with her eye, the phrase ‘my star’ is written, so we have named her ‘Étoile’ for reference. Who was this woman? It was thought that this was lost to a massive fire in the nearly five decades ago, but the recent excavation proved fruitful in its treasures among the basement of the Gare d'Orsay when preparations for the museum began...

         You hear his voice loud and clear in your mind. 

         Cara mia, I am waiting for you, but do not rush. When you are ready, join me, so that we may explore the world beyond this one together. 

         Unable to contain your emotions anymore, you break into sobs. The sadness ebs from your broken heart and stretches through your body, making your legs click in place. You lose your balance and fall to the polished tiles, clutching your chest in an attempt to relieve the pressure. Other guests swarm to your side, offering you help or to call for someone, but you ignore them all. 

         Even overwhelmed with memories, you can feel the warmth of his promise, just as if he were standing beside her. 

         I’ll meet you again, Leonardo. 

         I’ll meet you at Sirius. 

[hatsukeii]

okay i haven’t finished aot yet but i would simply die if you wrote an x reader one shot with the prompts “you can’t die, i won’t let you” + “this is all my fault” for levi 😌 i’m a simp for him and i need some angst hehe

I’m about to make myself cry>:))

(Not really but you get the point)

Also this is set when they encounter the beast titan and commence the suicide charge, but I’m gonna be changing quite a bit of stuff so it fits this angst a liiiiitle bit more:) That includes changing out the part where he has to choose between Armin and Erwin. I’ll keep both of them alive and replace it with this instead because it’s easier for me to make sense of everything that way lol

Let’s goooooo

You were good to me//Levi x Reader

Word count: 3000+ (New record!)

Warnings: Mild swearing, a shit load of blood, minimal violence, character death (This is a warning it’s not gonna end well)

Summary: Your mission with Levi does not go according to plan.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind? You really went ahead and requested to be a part of this mission without telling me? You are absolutely not going with us. It’s too dangerous for you, I can’t put you under that much risk. Whatever you say, it’s a no. Don’t even try and change my mind.”

You didn’t like arguments with Levi. They were rare, but they managed to break your heart every single time. You were one of the older cadets from the 104th training corps, but you still managed to make it into Levi’s squad. You would’ve thought he trusted you more than this now that you two were in a relationship, but you were wrong apparently.

“Seriously Levi? I’ve been on countless expeditions with you. I’m going to be fine. We’re not even going out of the walls properly, we’re literally just reclaiming lost land. Erwin’s already confirmed that I’m going with you guys tomorrow, there’s no stopping me. Plus, I want to be there when we finally see the basement. I’m going with you guys. If you’re so scared then just tell Erwin to put me next to you in the scouting formation or something. It’s not that hard.”

Levi raked his fingers through his hair in frustration. It was at times like this he absolutely hated your persistence. It was hard to deal with when he was trying to keep you safe, considering you have such a huge desire to contribute something to the victory of mankind. Almost all your arguments have been about not letting you join in on an expedition or mission. He knew fully well you’re a perfectly capable soldier, and that you could handle tricky situations well. However, his old squad was also capable of that. Isabel and Farlan were also outstanding soldiers. He shuddered at the thought of their dead bodies laying on the battlefield. He couldn’t afford to lose anyone else. He swore on his life that he would continue to protect you, whatever the cost, even if it meant keeping you from doing what your heart desired. Don’t think he feels good about this. He knows just how frustrated you feel. He knows you tend to feel useless if you don’t get to fight alongside everyone else, but this was for your own good.

“Why can’t you just listen to me? I can’t lose you-”

“And you won’t, silly. I promise.”

“Who’s to say you won’t get eaten tomorrow? Even worse, trampled by that buff piece of shit titan? Hm? Answer me, how are you so sure?”

“I’ve fought them before, I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. They have backup this time. Half of us probably aren’t even gonna come back alive. Even I couldn’t take down Reiner and Bertholdt the last time they struck, you still think you’re gonna be fine?”

You were getting more and more irritated by the second, your usually calm voice raising to a shout. “Why can’t you just trust me more? Are my skills not enough for your liking?”

“They’re plenty enough. You’re a proficient soldier, and I know that. But that doesn’t change the fact that this is a dangerous operation, and that by joining us you are putting yourself in grave danger.”

You rolled your eyes, completely done with Levi’s bullshit. You liked the protective side of him, you really did. However when it came to denying your requests to go on expeditions with him, it eventually appealed to you as one of his negative traits far too easily. Sighing, you turned on your heels and headed for the door, looking back at him as you grabbed the doorknob. “You can’t stop me. I’m coming with you tomorrow. You can try defying your superior if you have any objections.” You twisted the metal, slamming the door in his face as you walked back to the dorms. “Jesus, and I thought he would’ve been fine with it. He really thinks I’m that weak? I can still knock him down while sparring. He’s really gotta stop underestimating me.”

“Erwin, are you serious right now?” Levi was fuming. He didn’t expect his superior to actually permit you to come with. “I specifically told you to keep her safe. What do you do? Exactly the opposite.” Erwin’s head hung low as he contemplated his decision. “I had to. She’s a valuable asset that can benefit us in battle. Plus, she refused to give me my hair gel back until I approved of her request.” The shorter man’s mouth hung open. “COMMANDER WHAT THE HELL?-” “Calm down Levi. I assigned her to a spot right next to you. That way you can keep an eye on her.” The soldiers were slowly starting to mount their horses. “This better be worth it Erwin, or you’ll never hear the end of it.”

“I told you you couldn’t stop me, I was gonna come regardless of what you said.” Levi let out a low growl, glaring at you from his horse. “We’re having a very, very serious discussion about this when we get back.” You dryly chuckled, speeding in front of him as you yelled. “PERSON WITH LESS TITAN KILLS HAS TO CLEAN THE OFFICE!” Levi’s mouth curled up into a tiny grin. Still enthusiastic as ever, eh? “We’re still having that discussion, but with the addition of your devastating loss to me.” From the front, Erwin fired a green smoke signal, before yelling to everyone behind him. “ALL SOLDIERS BEHIND ME, SWITCH TO THE GEAR! LEFT AND RIGHT WING, STAY ON YOUR HORSES!” Wires zipped through the air, attaching themselves to buildings. You and Levi landed on top of a roof. “What the hell is that...?” A few miles away from you, a hazy image of a hoard of titans was enough to make your eyes widen with rage and confusion. “Why aren’t they charging?”

Everything that went down in the next few moments happened too quickly for either of you to comprehend. Sickening crunches rang throughout the battlefield as blood splattered on your face. Red painted over the buildings within a three mile radius, the air going a sickening shade of red. A look of terror washed over Levi’s usually stoic face as he pushed you behind him, shielding you while he braced himself from the pieces of debris and the rocks that were thrown towards the troops. “SHIT, GUYS FALL BACK!” You crouched down, covering your head as you curled up. “What’s up with that thing?” The raven haired man clicked his tongue, looking up carefully once the rocks stopped coming. “That piece of shit furry titan is pitching boulders like no tomorrow. We’ve gotta get out of here, fast.” You and Levi made it off the building just in time for the second wave of boulders to hit, the rocks sending even more scouts flying as blood went everywhere, strained screams and sobs echoing in the air. This wasn’t just a bloodbath. This was a massacre.

“Erwin, you can’t do this to them. Half of them haven’t even finished training. By conducting a suicide charge, we’re talking about bringing at least 200 soldiers to their graves. If you’re leading it, chances are you won’t survive either. You’ll never get to see the basement. There has to be another way.” Erwin shook his head solemnly. “This is the best plan I can think of. I’m sorry my friend. I guess I’ll go out fighting today.” Levi shook his head as you teared up, covering your mouth with a bloody hand. “Soldiers! We will be conducting a charge. Scream as loud as you can, fire your green signals towards the titan. In the meanwhile, Captain Levi and Squad leader (Y/N) will take out the rest of the titans. Am I clear-” “There’s no way we’re gonna make it! Everyone’s gonna die!” Your head hung low, a stoic expression plastered on your face. “Yes. You’re right.” The scouts looked at him in shock and horror. “You’re telling us to let go of everything we care about and die?” “Yes. Give up your dreams, and die. Die fighting for humanity. Die fighting for a better future. For your children. For your family. For your siblings. Devote your hearts, and die doing just that. Levi, (Y/N), go now while we still have time.”

“Cmon (Y/N), let’s go.” You nodded, firing out your gear towards the wall next to Levi. “Race you to the titans!” You flew towards the first titan, slicing its nape, before looking back to see how your boyfriend was doing. His brows furrowed as he wobbled on his gear, clearly struggling to balance. “Levi?” You screamed as his gear gave out and sent him tumbling towards the ground. You audibly gasped, turning back and rushing down to him. “Shit, just great. My gear’s broken.” You sensed something towering above you. From afar, an unfamiliar voice boomed. “You really think I wouldn’t have noticed? Titans, kill them.” You looked up as the gruesome being above you, as well as the other ones, snapped their heads towards you two, bloodlust clouding their eyes as they advanced towards Levi first. You tried your best to clear out the titans, slicing off nape after nape. You heard a yell, turning your head toward the sound. There Levi was, being picked up by one of the titans as it slowly brought him to its face. The man was thrashing wildly, desperately trying to wiggle his way out of the thing’s hand. It’s grotesque eyes examined the raven haired soldier, before raising its arm to lead him into its disgusting mouth. “OH NO YOU DON’T.” You screamed, zooming towards the titan at an inhuman speed. You pulled a slippery Levi out of its mouth, landing him safely onto the floor as you headed back up towards its nape, slicing up everything you could, before sending a devastating blow towards the back of its neck, blood spraying everywhere.Levi was obviously terrified, breathing heavily as his eyes widened. “Holy shit, thank god... oh Jesus, you could’ve died.” You made your way towards him, about to wrap your arms around his shaking figure, when your breath hitched in your throat. “(Y/N) NO!” You looked down, blood dripping from your side as you fell to the floor. You looked down at your uniform to see blood pooling around your body, staining your shirt crimson. You looked in front of you, to see a boulder, dried blood coating it. “Ah, it was that.” Your partner snapped out of whatever trance he was in, now running as fast as he could towards you. “No... NONONONO PLEASE DON’T!” Levi was a complete mess, screaming while he tried to take your gear off. Finally succeeding, a weight lifted from your hips, and a pair of strong arms hoisted you up and onto their back. Cool air grazed your face as you felt yourself being lifted off the ground and into the air, your consciousness slowly fading as you laid your head on his shoulder.

Meanwhile, Levi was about to break down. “No, please, (Y/N) please stay with me.” He saw your eyes flutter open, your mouth now bloody. “Huh? What’d you mean? I’m right... he... here...” You coughed a little bit, clotted blood landing on Levi’s cloak. “Shit, please stay awake. You have to. Don’t close your eyes even when it hurts like hell. Keep them open.” You nuzzled your face into his shoulder. “But I’m tireeeed-” “You are staying alive on my watch. Please, you can’t die. I won’t let you. Keep your damn eyes open. We’re almost at Hange...please, don’t leave me now. This is an order.” He knew the blood loss was getting to your head, judging by your dopey smile and idiotic statements. The stench of blood now filled his nose, the crimson liquid dripping off his boot. Normally he would’ve wiped it straight off as soon as possible, but he didn’t care right now. He didn’t care if amateurs were being slaughtered down there. He didn’t care how Erwin was. He didn’t care about what was happening on the other side with Eren and his squad. The only thing he could focus on, was your body that was relaxed against his. The peaceful expression you had despite being on the brink of death. A whimper left his throat, tears spilling out like a waterfall as he made his way up the wall. 

“SHITTY GLASSES! OI! HANGE!” The tall woman turned towards you two, her eyes widening in shock. “Levi, put pressure on the wound, I’m gonna go get help.” He frantically, but gently let you down, taking his cloak off and pressing the fabric onto your wound as you screamed, blood sputtering out of your mouth and onto his face as his tears mixed with the red liquid. “STAY AWAKE... please-” Your hand went up to his arm, grabbing onto him tightly. “Levi... I’m sorry....” The man shook his head, tears flying off his face. “No... don’t be. You can’t die on me. Please don’t die on me today....” You felt your vision go hazy, the once clear image of your lover becoming all but a blurry mix of colours. “I-I’m not gonna make it-” A loud sob resonated through the air. “YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT... please! For me, for your squad, for everyone....” You smiled to yourself, black dots making their way into your vision. “(Y/N)! Don’t you remember? We still have that discussion about you coming with me! We still have to go home! You killed more titans, I have to clean the office, remember?” You chuckled, one single teardrop finally leaving the corner of your eye, before coughing vigorously. “You... you were good to me, Levi.” Those were your last words, before your body gave out and your eyes shut completely. “No... NO! SHIT! WHY? IF YOU WEREN’T IN FRONT OF ME... YOU COULD’VE JUST LET ME DIE! IT WOULDN’T HAVE MATTERED! YOU PROMISED ME YOU WOULD BE FINE! YOU PROMISED!” Hange jogged towards Levi, bandages and cloth in hand. “I got the ban...dages.” Her face darkened when she saw your motionless figure and Levi’s bloodshot eyes. His face was now terrifyingly stoic. He felt numb, tears rolling down his cheeks as he tried to keep his sobs in. “Levi....” Grabbing onto his comrade’s shirt, he shoved his face into the fabric, screaming and sobbing until his lungs gave out. His tears mixed with the blood on his face, staining her jacket a dirty red. Hange let out a shaky breath, patting her best friend on the back as he continuously punched her shoulders, fists clenched so hard they started to go white.

That evening, no one dared say a word to Levi. Not even Erwin. The short soldier walked along the graveyard, knowing he was going to see your name on one of the tombstones. How he wished for some life changing miracle at that moment. Maybe this was all just a twisted fever dream. Maybe he was in bed, and you were sound asleep in the dorms with the other girls. He knew it was impossible, but it didn’t hurt to imagine how it would be like if you didn’t sacrifice yourself out there for him. He should be the one that was buried underground, bloody and all. It shouldn’t be you who was in the dirt. Other scouts that were mourning their comrades’ deaths moved over to give him a path, not wanting to get on his nerves. His demeanour was way darker than usual. His bored eyes were filled with sorrow and rage, his grey irises dull and glossy. Just the mention of your name from another soldier’s mouth was enough to drive him over the edge at this point. He blamed himself for what happened. He should’ve checked his gear more thoroughly. Maybe then you wouldn’t have had to step in. He should’ve been more aware and shielded you from the boulder. He should’ve been able to see it. He should’ve removed your gear quicker, maybe that would’ve bought you more time to get treated. A million possibilities circled through his head. There was so much he could’ve done both before and in that moment, that would’ve prevented all this. His footsteps stopped in front of a tombstone. There was nothing there. No one has even realised you went out yet. Levi bit his lip, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to leave his eyelids. No. He wasn’t going to cry in front of the other scouts. He dropped the flowers in his hand in front of the stone plate, kneeling down to its level. “You didn’t have to shield me from that boulder, brat.” Jean and Connie, who were next to him stared at him in shock. Never have they ever heard their captain say the word brat in such a soft tone before. Levi sensed the weirded out looks he received, but proceeded to ignore them. His knees hit the grassy floor as his head hung low, his bangs covering his eyes. “Shit....” He couldn’t hold it in anymore. His body shuddered as the waterworks came. Hot, salty tears spewing out of his eyes as he sobbed. Everyone around him was properly shook, staring in disbelief as their no bullshit captain broke down in front of your tombstone. “It’s all my fault! You could’ve just left me there! Why? Why did you have to go out instead of me? Why does everyone I care about have to meet a cruel end? Why?” Hange glanced at her friend from across the field, a bunch of flowers now presented in front of Moblit’s grave. She trod over to where Levi was, pulling him up and giving him a pat on the back. “Calm down Levi. You can’t change anything now. Might as well accept it.” That didn’t stop the tears from falling. His loud sobs reduced to strained whimpers, his hand going up to cover his mouth in a pathetic attempt to silence out the noise he was making. The younger scouts stayed silent as they watched their captain, slowly letting some of their tears out too. Levi thought back to your argument the night before. The little competition you started in the middle of the field. The rage you showed when you completely mutilated the titan that threatened his life. The last words you spoke before dying with a smile.

“You were good to me too, love.”

Three hours of nonstop writing for this piece of shit-

I’m sorry I just think this is terrible idk why ahsgdhsge I spent so long on it but I don’t know if some parts are boring im so sorry if it’s bad feel free to tell me🤡😔

Okay but I still hope you liked it🥺

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @bokutokoutarou @tiger1719 @burnt-tomato @kaylacinderella @izzyphantomgamer @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @for-ests @macaronnv @artsamber @fluffy-bokuto @just-another-bored-writer @random-fandomlover @trashcanweeb @tiredgremlin @itmekisuu @burnt-tomato @ttttiddy @thirstyvolleyballhoe @ewfilthymundane @mariechan123 @inlwlevi

Comment or dm if you want to be added to le tag list:D

This goes into the short kings clan oop

[megalony]

Oops

This is a small murderer! Ben Hardy imagine I had an idea for, I hope you will all like it, feedback is always appreciated.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem​ @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid​ @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me​ @peterquillzsblog​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​

Murderer! Ben masterlist

Summary: Ben is taken to hospital just before he is meant to go to prison and (Y/n) is the doctor assigned to treat him. But it’s not as easy as she hopes when her patient scares her.

Enjoy.

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

With each clicking of her shoes against the polished tiled floor, she could feel her heart adding an extra beat of blood around her body until she was certain that the organ was about ready to give out. She could feel her heartbeat becoming louder in her chest making every beat feel like it was pulsing through her ribcage and echoing against her lungs. A cold sweat started to rattle through her as she got closer to the door she didn't really know if she wanted to go through or not.

The moment she reached the door her body was subtally shaking which she was sure the security guards must have noticed when she took her ID badge from her waist to flash in front of their eyes. It was her golden ticket to get her inside a room that was limited to who could see what it held within.

Her imagination didn't do him justice.

When (Y/n) tried to remember the last time she had seen the man who was in this room, her memory was hazy. She remembered long ash blond curls that swept everywhere on his head. She pictured dark coloured eyes that were like voids with no emotion, she could see thin lips that stayed straight or held a frown but no smile. She could see hardened, cold features that were not flattering and a medium sized build. What she was faced with was much different to her memory that had been helped out with her imagination.

The man laid in the bed was taller than she remembered, to the point his head and feet were almost touching the ends of the bed. He had a very broad muscular frame that made him more of a threat to everyone who stepped into this room. His eyes were the deepest shade of sea-green that (Y/n) had ever seen, they were like gems, but his pupils were what scared her. The darkness was swirling inside of them and they held no sparkles from the light, they were filled with so many bad emotions that looked so inviting yet frightening that it made (Y/n) cower.

His lips were bright ruby red but they were crooked into the most sinister grin that (Y/n) had ever come across in her life. His eyes were slightly narrowed but they were solely stuck on her frame as her own eyes darted around him, forming a lasting image in her mind. His light blond hair was longer on top but shaved very short at the sides and it was folded back over his head so none of it would fall in front of his eyes and distort his vision of her.

What caught (Y/n)'s attention more than his features was his wrists and his ankles. They were handcuffed to the plastic frame of the bed, locking him in a sitting position so he didn't hold the right to raise his hands an inch above the bed, nor could be kick his feet out at anyone. Those restraints caught (Y/n)'s eye for the specific reason that she didn't trust them. This man had muscle, he clearly held strength and his eyes showed he was cunning, just how long were those shackles going to restrain him before he managed to break free?

"Here to help me, sweetheart?" His voice was low and gravelly like his words were rubbing against sandpaper, but his pet name that she remembered so vividly made her cringe.

"Only to make you better, Mr Hardy." (Y/n) kept her voice level and looked down at her notes as she spoke like she thought looking him in the eyes would put her under a trance. She was a doctor, all she was here to do was to find out what was causing his health to decline and then he would be on his way to prison just like he was supposed to be.

Ben was in the hospital because he had a seizure and crippling pains a day before he was supposed to be taken to prison. A lot of doctors here thought he was just playing things up so he could try his luck at escaping but (Y/n) didn't think so. She vaguely knew him and what she remembered about Ben was how he liked to work. He wouldn't want to escape by faking a seizure and he wouldn't want to go to hospital for unnecessary tests to try and make his escape.

He would want to bribe or kill the guard, he would want to break out on his own in the dead of night and get ahead of the game. He would want people to marvel at his twisted mind and his quick getaways.

"Better how? Are you going to try and see if there's something making me ill, or are you going to try and make me better in my head?" When he spoke he flashed his teeth and the look reminded (Y/n) of a shark or a predator eyeing up its prey. He looked ready to devour her or frighten her to the point she either left or let him go free.

(Y/n) knew who Ben was, but the man laying in front of her now was different to the one she had known a few years ago. The man she remembered hadn't been a killer, but he had definitely been heading in that direction. She had read more about him in the news, he seemed to be rather good at killing people considering how long it had taken the police to even get one small crime connected to him with enough evidence to charge him and send him to prison.

He had been killing people and doing dodgy dealings for at least five years with no consequence because he knew how to evade the police and rid himself of any evidence. He did intrigue her, a lot, but she wasn't a psychiatrist. (Y/n) couldn't delve into his mind and find out what made him this way, she would get trapped and never be able to find her way out.

But that seemed to be what Ben wanted.

He loved the thought of people trying to get into his head because he had the ability to trap them without giving them the answers they were looking for. He didn't think there was any reason he was like this, he had a good upbringing, a loving family, a good education. No traumas or accidents happened to him to make him suddenly take to murder, he wasn't damaged or broken or unhinged, this was just how he was and what he liked to do.

"I'm just here to find out what's causing your health problems, nothing more." When (Y/n) lifted her eyes from the notes on Ben's case, she found he was still grinning at her like the Cheshire cat and it was beginning to feel unsettling. No one looked at her the way he was looking at her now, it was like he knew something about her and he was goading her and holding the information over her head like bait. Willing her to take it.

"And you can do that with me cuffed to the bed, or is that how you like all your patients?" Ben tilted his head up to look at (Y/n) when she dared to move closer until she was standing beside the bed instead of at the foot of it. Her eyes locked with his own for a brief moment but she didn't respond, he was only trying to get a rise out of her. "Come on doll, undo them for me. Where am I going to go with ten guards on this floor? I don't wanna run away from a pretty face either."

(Y/n) pursed her lips as she tilted her head to the side, she wasn't stupid and she wasn't born yesterday. Whether Ben really just wanted to sit without being shackled at the joints or whether he wanted to escape made no difference to (Y/n). She didn't have the keys to unlock the cuffs and she wouldn't do that anyway. They didn't pose a problem unless they had to do an MRI but even then, the hospital had other ways of restraining him so that he didn't try and make a break for it.

"I'd love to, but I don't have the keys."

Grabbing a small light from her pocket, (Y/n) cautiously rested her hand on Ben's temple and tilted his head back. Holding his eyelid open with her thumb as she used her other hand to shine the light over his pupils to see if they were constricting quickly or not.

"Any headaches or pains anywhere?"

"Why do you think the lights are turned off?" Ben watched with a smile as (Y/n) seemed to blink like she was clearing her mind of fog, turning her head to look up at the lights before looking around the room to find that it was significantly darker than the corridor. The natural light from the window provided more than enough lighting to see but it wasn't nearly as bright as what the room would be if basked in the illuminated lights.

"I'll schedule an MRI, see if there's anything wrong with your head." (Y/n) held onto the plastic frame of the bed as she looked at Ben who was still smiling which was beginning to make her feel unsettled. There was no reason for him to be grinning, there was something wrong with him and he was going to prison when they treated whatever was wrong, he had no reason to smile.

"That's what they all say... your little bodyguards will have to uncuff me for that. We can finally have some fun."

Ben's words sent shivers running down (Y/n)'s spine and made her stomach churn like she was going to be sick. His tone showed he wasn't messing around or just blabbering, he was thinking about this and he was excited at the prospect of finding a chance to escape. Restraints like buckles around his body would be a bit easier to get out of than handcuffs. But when he spoke about having fun, his eyes glimmered for the first time and showed sparkles without any light in the room.

He was making her a promise.

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

"Are you scared?" The question came with a tone of sincerity and worry but the catfish grin that it was spoken through said otherwise. The way those words made his cheeks puff up near his eyes that were narrowing and inquisitive made shivers run down (Y/n)'s spine when she was already trying so hard not to shake from fear.

"Why would I be scared?" (Y/n) tipped her head to the side as she responded to his rather sudden question that seemingly came out of nowhere. (Y/n) was trying very hard to seem and act normal, she didn't want Ben to think she feared him but she didn't want to be cold towards him either. He was her patient and it was better to keep him talking and stay on his good side rather than dare to see what the bad side looked like.

"Because the artery in your neck is pulsing faster than normal... you keep looking at the straps which we both know aren't such a good restraint for me."

Ben's eyes were solely focused on the artery he could clearly see pushing up beneath the surface at such a rapid pace that it looked like it was going to burst. It implied that (Y/n)'s heartbeat was increasing and he could see how hard she was trying to keep her breathing normal. He couldn't have cuffs on because the MRI machine worked with magnets, but the straps binding him down were worn and looked like Velcro that he would be able to tear free from without breaking into a sweat. They both knew that Ben was devious and dangerous and (Y/n) didn't want to see him get free or know what he would do to break free.

"We both know if you manage to get up you're hardly going anywhere with a gown that barely covers your ass and no boxers on underneath. Besides, with no weapon, how do you expect to get out of this room?" (Y/n) adjusted the brace beneath Ben's head so it was fixed around his neck and head to give support whilst he would be in the machine for about forty five minutes.

Ben looked surprised at her answer but his smile didn't slip from his features because she had given him something to think about. He was wearing a gown that tied at the back and he didn't have underwear on, he was hardly going to be able to get out of the hospital wearing that. Nor did he have weapons to get himself out of this room, let alone the hospital. Security had guns and tasers and there was a lot of security who could pin him down and a doctor could sedate him. Ben was outnumbered here.

"Try not to move."

(Y/n) didn't like the wicked grin Ben wore when (Y/n) pressed the button that moved him into the MRI machine. He looked like he was one step ahead of her and always would be.

Half an hour had passed but (Y/n) felt like she was going to be sick because he just would not stop. His lips kept moving and words and phrases kept passing from them but they were rattling around in her mind and rubbing (Y/n) up the wrong way. Worse still, Ben knew what he was doing. The more he talked about what he did, the more (Y/n) felt like she could picture clearly what he had done and who he was. She felt sick when he described how he killed people and how he made sure no one found out. She felt shivers running up and down her nerves when he kept calling out to her. Random nicknames drawled sweetly or seductively or creepily from his lips to try and gain her attention or some sort of rise from (Y/n).

But even though Ben couldn't see her and she was staying deadly silent, Ben knew he was having a bad effect on her and it was making him carry on.

Lifting her head from where it was lowered down to look at the screen, (Y/n) felt a wave of both panic and relief flowing through her when the voice suddenly stopped. Ben was no longer trying to call out to her and ask if she was still there or rambling on to her about whatever dreadful thing spilled into his rotten mind.

Deciding that the scan was done now since it was showing nothing irregular, (Y/n) got up from her chair and entered the MRI room in front of her, Ben's name drawling quietly from her lips but he didn't respond.

Pushing the button, (Y/n) looked at Ben with tired eyes but he still had that same shit-eating grin on his face that she wished to become tired of seeing. She went to say something, but before any words could pass through her lips, her body jolted and her heart stopped in her chest when his hand suddenly latched around her wrist with a viper's grip. His fingers felt like sharp teeth digging into her skin and he held so much force because when he pulled her closer to the point (Y/n) almost fell on top of him, it didn't seem to take any energy from him at all.

"Ben, let go." (Y/n) spoke in a stern tone as her other hand quickly grabbed his own to try and release herself from his grip but it wasn't working. He had more strength than she did, she could already feel the bruises beginning to form on her skin.

"Come on doll, be a good girl and let me out, you know you want to."

(Y/n) shook her head and tried again to pull away but she stopped and her eyes snapped closed when Ben leaned his head closer to her to the point she could feel his breath on her neck. She couldn't let him free from his restraints, he could use her as a hostage to try and get out or he could kill people to get himself free. He was here for a reason and he was bound for a reason, (Y/n) couldn't let him out just because he asked or because he was trying to seduce her.

"I can't, now let go before I call security."

Fear rushed through (Y/n)'s veins along with adrenaline, but she wasn't fearing what Ben was doing or what he was capable of, she was afraid what effect he was having on her because her voice was lost. She couldn't find her voice to call out to the security men that were only on the other side of the door. She stayed deadly quiet when she felt Ben's grip on her wrist tightening and his teeth grazing against her neck.

The moment his mouth left her neck and she could pull back and straighten up, (Y/n) felt like she was going to faint and the urge to pass out only increased when all the blood drained from her head. But her moment of relief lasted two seconds before she looked down at Ben's wrist agonisingly slowly and a whimper left her lips when she realised his hands were now free from the restraints.

Every part of her froze and turned stiff as she watched him sit up with a shit-eating grin on his lips and the void in his eyes that drew her in until she became lost. When his eyes darted down to look at the restraints, he rose a brow and tipped his head to the side in an almost innocent manner.

"Oops."

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache - Seeing the Truth

A follow-on from the prompt where Wilford discovered Dark was colourblind. He’s determined to help Dark experience the beauty that is colour.

Word Count: 1,565

-

If there was one thing every single ego working in the studio could agree on, it was that Wilford was not the smartest of the bunch. He struggled with reading, had difficulties keeping track of time, had an unreliable memory on bad days, among other things. Which was why there was surprise when it was discovered Wiford was undertaking heavy research. Sitting at the desk in his dressing-room-studio, the reporter was immersed in work on his laptop. There was a notebook beside him where he attempted to write legible notes. Several drinking glasses had been conjured and emptied so he could work without the distraction of moving. Another notebook was open and drying on the radiator after some water spilled on it.

But if anyone walked in with the intention to see what he was doing, they were blocked by an invisible bubble. To Dark’s frustration, it included him.

“You know you can’t work on anything without telling me about it. As the company’s lawyer, I need to make sure what you’re doing keeps you out of legal trouble.” Dark folded his arms with an irritated expression. In response, Wilford pulled himself onto his feet, sauntered across the room, and slipped through the bubble barrier to take Dark’s hands in his own.

“Yeah, buuut Google told me that’s only if I’m workin’ on somethin’ fer th’ studio. This is a personal project that I want perfect before I tell anyone!” A seemingly simple answer had alarm bells ringing in Dark’s mind. Wilford always put his brainstorming on display for others. Why was he being so secretive? He tried to pull his hands away, but the reporter’s grip was too tight. “Ya gotta trust me, sugarplum. I’ve been workin’ hard like a little bee in here. Just gimme a little longer an’ I’ll show ya everythin’.”

“Will this be before or after you cause whatever trouble you’re planning?”

“Who said anythin’ ‘bout causin’ trouble?” Wilford was hurt by that, though he was quick to shake it off. “When it’s ready, yer th’ first person I wanna show. Promise.” He kissed Dark on the cheek and added, “Yer still free after work, right?”

--

When the other egos and regular staff had called it a day, Dark returned to Wilford’s empty office. To his surprise, the barrier bubble was gone, but the desk space had been cleared. There was no evidence he could see that might tell him what Wilford was up to. Wilford had actually remembered to shut down the laptop for once. This was certainly an unusual setting for the reporter who was terrible with technology. There had to be a clue somewhere that he wasn’t seeing!

“Babe!” Wilford’s voice made Dark jump. He spun around to notice Wilford had changed clothes to wear a faint blue (maybe) shirt, black trousers and white suspenders (he could tell those colours easily). “Thought I’d catch ya before ya left yer office. Ya ready ta go?” Dark nodded, crossing the room to take Wilford’s free hand.

“A basket?”

“Well, yeah! Can’t have ya gettin’ cold on me, eh? We got a great evenin’ planned an’ I want ya ta be cosy!”

--

The car pulled up at their normal viewing spot outside the city. Dark tried to weasel information out of Wilford, but the reporter was unusually tight-lipped. All he could learn was that the pair were sky-gazing. As much as Dark liked spending time with Wilford, he couldn’t help but feel Wilford forgot that Dark couldn’t enjoy seeing the day sky in the same way. Surely he wouldn’t need to ruin the night by having this conversation a second time, right? Stuck with indecision on what to do, Dark didn’t notice how Wilford sat on the picnic blanket and began pulling things out of the basket at first. A little vase of flowers, a notebook, some juggling balls, a small balloon, a black case… 

“Wilford… What are you doing with all this stuff?” Before Dark could sit, Wilford quickly scrambled back onto his feet.

“No, no! Not yet. Tonight’s a special night. Gonna be one of th’ prettiest views an’ I don’t wantcha missin’ it ‘cause yer askin’ why I have so many things with me.” Wilford wagged a finger playfully at Dark. A graceful bend allowed him to scoop up the black case and hand it to Dark. “A present fer my beautiful shadow.” Dark accepted the case, clicked it open, and frowned.

“... Sunglasses. At 8pm?”

“Well, yeah! There’s gonna be some big bright flashy thing of some sort tonight. Bing was ravin’ ‘bout it. I’m surprised ya didn’t hear ‘bout it!” Wilford had whipped out a pair of sunglasses and rested them in his messy curls. “Go on! Try ‘em on. Betcha look real handsome with ‘em~”

Something wasn’t right, but Dark couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Wilford was acting peculiar, like he was trying to distract the entity from something. Google never mentioned anything about events taking place in the sky. With all the random objects scattered at his feet, it could be Wilford’s way to pull attention away from some crime he had committed while out. That’s why he changed clothes, it had to be! Even with those worries in his head, Wilford looked genuinely excited. Dark never wore sunglasses, but maybe he could humour Wilford and play along. 

The glasses were put on.

The world exploded in a way he never could have predicted.

What was originally a murky mesh of blue, yellow, and grey had now become so much more. Everything was brighter, vivid, alive! He quickly lifted the glasses to see the world as he was used to, then dropped the glasses back down to see this new world. It was the glasses. The glasses were somehow letting him see colour in a way he never could have imagined and couldn’t possibly explain. The colours seemed to shift a little the longer he wore them, possibly as his eyes adjusted to it, allowing him to see so much more. A hand covered his mouth as emotions welled up inside him. Never did he think he would ever see something like this in his entire life.

“Ya doin’ okay?” Wilford’s hand gently squeezed his shoulder. Dark nodded.

“I… I’ve never seen colour like this before. It’s beautiful… I thought you brought me here because you forgot.”

“Nah. I wrote it down when ya told me. This is what I’ve been workin’ on all week that no one knew ‘bout. I wanted ta help ya see colour. These glasses were th’ best way ta do that. Bet it must be weird fer ya.” 

“I never would have guessed how many types of green there are. It all looked the same, but the leaves on the trees and the grass all look so different…” He turned to face Wilford, only to trail off as he took in the sight of his boyfriend in full colour for the first time. He was wearing a purple shirt, not a blue one! Wilford could see the emotion in Dark’s eyes through the tinted lenses as the entity’s hand reached up to Wilford’s face. “... Is that pink? Your moustache… It’s brighter than I could have imagined.” Tears finally slipped underneath the glasses as he laughed. “It’s perfect for you. I can’t stop smiling as I look at it. Oh! I never even realised it was in your hair either! I thought your hair was all one shade!” Fingers looped strands of pink locks to examine them better. “I knew I was right to think of you when I tried to imagine what ‘pink’ looked like.”

“Ya can admire me an’ my pretty pink all ya like later…. But turn ‘round again. I think y’ll like what yer ‘bout ta see.” Wilford kissed Dark on the nose before encouraging the entity to spin back the way he was originally facing.

There, in all its majestic glory behind them, was a sunset. With the distraction of the glasses, enough time had passed for the sun to dip low enough below the horizon. Dark slipped an arm around Wilford’s waist and held on tightly as he took in every inch of the evening sky.

“I knew it was yellow, I knew it was blue, but all the colours in between… No wonder you were always so excited to look at sunsets. I could stare at this all night if I could. I’m seeing colours I never knew existed before. It’s perfect.”

“I thought y’d say that. I try ta keep a diary ta help me remember things so I thought, ‘why not do th’ same fer you’?” A spiral-bound notebook was passed to Dark, open on a page that had coloured squares labelled. “I made ya a little chart so y’d know what colours are what.” A simple gesture had the emotions bubbling over all over again as Dark hugged Wilford tight.

The pair would sit in silence and enjoy the full beauty of the sunset. Wrapped in a purple and white blanket, Dark was given all the time to process what he was seeing. Later, the pair would use the notebook to show Wilford what Dark could now see in the random assortment of items that dotted the blanket as they undertook a masterclass of colour.. But for the moment, seeing the beauty of a colourful world took priority.

---

Note: For those who might be curious, I highly recommend checking out EnChroma, who do indeed make glasses to help those who are colourblind. There are plenty of video reactions to people wearing them for the first time if ever you need to rediscover your appreciation of colour.

[katsukikitten]

Rouge 2

A/N PLEASE DO NOT CONTINUE ON IF MENTIONS OF SUICIDE CAN OR DO TRIGGER YOU. I WILL BE UNABLE TO PUT A READ MORE ON THIS FICTION FOR A WHILE.

"I'm thinking of ending things."

A thought that has nestled itself in the back of your mind. Often creeping back to the forefront of your thoughts. Especially when things start to go right.

You stare down at the street below, many stories up. The street a long twisting river of tar, cars dwarfed boats and people much more like ants than anything else.

You thighs burn, soles of your feet tingle, urging you to join the bustling traffic below.

L’Appel du Vide.

The wind is cold as it whips through your thin shirt, chilling you to the bone as late winter refuses to die this high up, while the trees below have since begun to bloom.

Balancing on one leg the other dangles like a rag doll over the edge.

But this won't answer the call of your "dream" and you should know.

You've "fallen" from higher.

Still taking a step *is* tempting.

"What the fuck are you doing?" The voice is dark, deadly and you do not need to turn around to know exactly who it belongs too.

At least not since you were denied your one true joy. He has been like a shadow lately all though much to his dismay.

Not even Bakugou Katsuki could deny an order that came from the director.

It did not help that it was also his old Idol.

You twirl as if dancing before jumping from the ledge to the roof of the building. The hot head stands with narrowed eyes, toned arms crossed over a chiseled chest. He notices that your eyes are dull. Dead. It causes his stomach to twist in aggravating knots but you will never know what you do to him.

He stands in tones of bleached grey. Your eyes flutter from how hard they roll, especially so when he puts on this act.

You note the color fading in his eyes and wonder how much longer until it is gone. Until your world is once again plunged into a haze.

"I've fallen from higher." You state as if that is a fact he cares about. A strong hand latches harshly onto your wrist, tightening his grip as he pulls you further from the edge and to the door.

"Director wants to see you." He bites out, yanking you closer to him, "Now."

You allow him to drag you down the stairs and along the hall until the two of you stand before his door.

"Come in." His voice calls through the oak, you turn the brass handle allowing yourself in.

"Ah, Y/N dear how are you feeling?" His leather chair is turned away from you, he is still seated as he rummages through a filing cabinet behind his desk.

Unmotivated, agitated, depressed.

Suicidal.

These are all the things you want to say.

"The usual." You say instead in a joyful tone, if anyone notices that it is forced neither party says anything.

"Y/N, take a seat. Young Bakugiu, you may go." The director says still looking for that obnoxiously aloof file. You look to the man behind you who's eyes narrow into slits before a door is slammed shut. You take your seat at the large desk.

Finally the director swings around in his large chair, he is dwarfed by its size when before he would have dwarfed the chair. He is no longer the muscular poster man that he was.

No he is thin, cheeks hollowed and grey eyes sunken. He coughs into a handkerchief that is staring to stain a deep shade of grey. You wonder if it hurt when he was hit hard enough to obliterate his innards. Well you knew it hurt, you were more curious as to how much.

And was the physical pain worse than the emotional toll that came with the fall from the highest point in hero history?

You would assume that it was not.

Still you stare Allmight down, this is how he always was for you, only occasionally would he puff into his picture perfect form.

But he could no longer. He places a file on the desk.

"Y/N, you've been doing so well on your paper work. But you're behind again. Starting with the rendition of the incident with yourself, Bakugou, Tomaru and a shady alley." He flips open the mineola folder sliding it towards you. Instantly you pick out Bakugou's unkempt yet more than legible hand writing.

How could you forget it especially since Sensei forced him to share his notes with you for the days you missed class.

You read over the beginning of his account, he showed up just in time. Tomaru's hand was almost fully wrapped around your bicep. One digit away from activating his quirk.

Eyes avert to anywhere but the report, you can no longer read about yet another failure. You gulp down your sadness but all it does is lump oddly in your throat.

"Its exactly as Bakugou states." This time you hold eye contact, giving a small reassuring smile that he clearly doesnt buy. He sighs, tapping at his book titled *"Being a great boss, for dummies"*

You grit your teeth, for a moment you wonder if he would fire you.

Well the bright side of that was at least you wouldn't have any more paper work to do.

"Yes, but Bakugou showed up much later. You were the first to respond. Had he really caught you off guard?" Suspicion almost laces in his tone and you make a meek, embarrassed look. Willing the blood to flush your cheeks.

"Ah yes he truly did. He was as quiet as a mouse." You say softly. He stares you down with intense eyes while you hold his gaze.

You really needed to bullshit Allmight. He was the last person you needed breathing down your neck. After a few long moments he sighs.

"Please get as much paper as you can done. Or if you can only do one report. Please make it this one." With that he slides you the file. You close it shut, holding onto it as you stand to leave.

"I'll do what I can."

Instead you find yourself with eyes crossed as you stare at the bleak monitor.

The report you're working on filled with pages and pages of sentences.

But none that pertain to the actual events you're supposed to be detailing.

*"I'm thinking of ending things."*

Repeats itself over and over and over filling the screen as if it were an award winning novel.

Currently you've run out of "inspiration" so here you sit.

Waiting for it to come back again as the cursor flashes, ticking away the seconds.

Time lost to you as minutes bleed into hours.

"Oi, Zombie." Bakugou taps roughly on your desk, eyes mostly grey with only flecks of red.

Lazily your gaze finds his, he finds the same look in your eyes as this afternoon earning him the same gut wrenching twist. He grits his teeth, fists clenched as he waits for you to come to life.

But you never do.

"I'm not staying too late." You half lie half tell the truth. You'll move when your body is ready that or when you can firmly grasp the concept of time again.

The grey monitor stares back at you as blankly as you stare at it. You press a few keys just to keep it from locking.

Bakugou studies you and your mountain of paperwork, you always some how end of getting out of it. He knows it's not from sheer laziness and he wonders if the Director knows just how bad off you are. So he takes pity and fills it out for you.

Your mind wanders further down the silent rabbit hole, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. For a long enough time you think Bakugou has already gone so it's understandable when you almost jump out of your skin when he slams a popping palm against your desk. The fear comes and goes in a blink of an eye, his iris still only specs of red.

Better than everything being that sun bleached grey.

"Oi, I came in here because shit hair Kirishima is having a party tonight. He asked me to ask you." His voice is as gruff as ever yet you are unphased.

Another lazy stare is sent his way before you click a key on the keyboard once more. Silence stretches between the two of you, he lets out a low growl.

"Its his birthday so you have to go."

"But..." Your eyes flash to your calendar, APRIL in bold black letters stares back at you.

Had you really lost that much time? You were doing better this year, coping nicely, the world almost prismacolor yet something changed.

Snapped.

And for no apparent reason at all you were pulled by the undertow, gasping for air once more.

But seven whole months?

Maybe you hadn't been as well as you thought.

"Finish up whatever the hell it is you're doing because we need to leave, now." Bakugou snarls while you stare down at your lap.

"But I look like shit." You admit, black ripped jeans and a plain black shirt.

"You aren't fucking marrying the man, just seeing him at a party. Now. Get. Up." He leans closer to you, pushing harshly on the power button to smother your computer.

Your novel is lost to the computer God's and you're left staring at your own reflection.

God you really did look like shit. What with how harshly exhaustion and lack of sleep pulled at your once tight features. Eyes shadowed, lips in a perpetual frown.

You sigh as you stand, feeling far from wanting to socialize but it *had* been awhile since you had last seen him and since Bakugou said it was his birthday then really you had no other choice.

The air is cool with the promise of summer coming on the breeze, further sending your body into a confused frenzy.

But October could be warm when it wanted to be. Or so you remind yourself. Bakugou stalks ahead, as he normally does and has done since that incident in the alleyway.

He has a hard time letting you walk to the train station alone, especially at night. You watch as his black shirt and pants blend into the shadows, his grey hair sways in the wind reminding you of dying wheat in a field.

His hair flashes ash blonde for a moment before it returns to ashen grey. He glances over his shoulder to make sure you are still following him and when he decides be doesn't like your snail pace he shouts.

"Get your ass in gear we are already late!"

Although he stops, waiting for you before falling into your step.

Matching your snail's pace.

Before long the two of you are standing on the stoop to the Kirishima residence.

Bakugou looks down at you, he cannot tear his eyes away although he wants to. Dreading what comes next.

This was his least favorite part. He watches with close eyes as you take in a long deep breath that should end in a heavy, shaking sigh but instead it is as if a switch was flipped.

A mischievous smile plays on your lips, your eyes have some sparkle, your cheeks rosey.

It's as if you were *alive* and he loathes to know that you can fake that.

He loathes to know that not a soul can see how badly you're really hurting.

You open the door as soon as your facade sets in, shouting your arrival.

"Hellloooooo!!!" As if it is normal to pop into a home without being invited in. You seem to spy Kirishima quickly, pulling him into a tight hug.

"You wanted to see me?" You ask as you squeeze, his bones groan in protest. He furrows his brow and when he spies Bakugou glaring at the two of you from over the rim of a newfound cup he thinks he has put two and two together.

"Yea let's get you a drink!" Kirishima sing songs pulling you into the quiet kitchen. He pulls down various liquor to which you either approve or deny before he makes you a mixed drink.

"Why thank you, Birthday boy." You purr taking a sip, "Shouldn't I be making you a drink? I mean today *is* October 16th. It's crazy how quickly the year flew by."

Your stomach twists at the thought of another year gone, wasted.

You accomplished nothing. You never had and you never will.

But thankfully your worry does not show in your face or your voice.

This time Kirishima cannot keep his confusion hidden as he stares at you with dull grey eyes.

"Umm today isn't my birthday. It's not October."

"Dont be silly you must be drunk! Bakugou said this was your birthday party! I know I've neglected you all year." You laugh, a tinge of guilt pulls at your heart.

"No it's not that. How do I say this? Y/N, we're in the month of April. It's the 20th" He scratches the back of his head, "I threw this party for Bakugou."

[what-is-your-plan-today]

Stark Spangled Forever: Stendhal Syndrome

Part 1- Brat

Intro: It’s Rori’s fifth birthday party, and there’s someone there who Katie doesn’t really appreciate hanging round her man.

And Steve doesn’t really appreciate Katie’s attitude either.

Uh Oh….

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: This was a one shot. I got carried away and wrote 24 pages. So now you have a duo shot thanks to that photo sending me to a dirty place. No smut in this one…but it’s on its way in the next part! Also apologies for the lack of formatting on here…my laptop is screwy….

SSF Masterlist // WIYPT Masterlist

May 2029

“Katie…” Steve called up the stairs. He waited for a moment. There was no response. “Honey?”

Still nothing.

He bounded up the steps, taking them two at a time and headed over the landing and into their room. He paused in the doorway, smiling gently as he saw his wife curled upon the bed, Harry snuggled into her, his head tucked under her chin as they both slept. He wasn’t surprised they were both flat out. They’d had a rough time with the tot the previous night. He had woken up at about 2 am crying and Steve had gone into find both he and his bed full of vomit. After they’d cleaned him up he’d continued to be sick, grumpy and teary, and hadn’t settled even when they’d brought him into bed with them. Eventually Katie had given up and taken him downstairs. Steve had initially gotten up with them but Katie had sent him back to bed pointing out that one of them needed to be with it enough to look after the others the day after. It was also an unspoken fact that they both knew Harry wouldn’t settle for his dad when he was like this. Steve thought Jamie was a momma’s boy but that was nothing compared to their youngest.

He gently closed the door and headed back downstairs and into the den where Jamie was sat cross legged on the rug faffing with some Lego and Rori was perched watching The Wizard of Oz.

“Guys, what do you fancy for lunch?”

“Are you making it?” Jamie looked up at him. Steve snorted.

“Fraid so pal. Momma’s asleep with Harry.”

“Is Harry still sick?” Rori looked around, her eyes wide.

“He’s ok sweetie.” Steve assured her “He just has a tummy bug.”

“Or he ate your cooking.” Emmy said from behind Steve as she passed him heading into the kitchen.

“Enough cheek thank you.” Steve said, raising an eyebrow at her back. He heard her chuckle as she opened the fridge.

“Jamie its ok…” she called “There’s left over lasagne.”

“Yesss.” Jamie said, jumping up off the rug. “Mom’s lasagne is the best.”

“Daddy?” Rori spoke again, her round green eyes looking at Steve.

“Yes baby?”

“Will Harry be ok for my birthday party?”

Steve noticed her biting her lip, the same expression Katie wore when she was worried. With a soft chuckle he crossed the room and knelt down in front of her. “Of course he will, it’s not for another week yet.”

She considered his answer and nodded. Steve reached out and gently tucked her dark hair behind her ears. It was then he noticed her lip wobbling.

“Hey…” he said, frowning, as he stood up to sit besides her. She crawled onto his lap and tucked her face into his shirt “What’s wrong?” She sniffled slightly and pressed her face further into his chest. Steve gently rubbed her back and stayed still waiting for her to speak.

“Jemima at school…” she sniffled, and Steve took a deep breath. He knew where this was going. “Her brother got sick and he dieded.” “Ok…” he said gently, “Jemima’s brother was very poorly. Harry just has a tummy bug. I promise you Rori, he’s not going to die.” She sniffed again and looked up at him “Pinkie promise?”

He smiled and held up his hand, little finger extended “pinkie promise.” She mimicked him and intertwined her small finger with his before she reached up and wrapped her arms round his neck, nuzzling her head into the space against his cheek.

“Why is your face always scratchy?” she asked and Steve gave a laugh.

“Blame your Momma, she won’t let me shave.” he said and Rori pulled back, her little hands raking into his beard. He playfully snapped at her fingers with his teeth, a loud clicking noise sounding as he bit onto thin air and she giggled.

“You gonna come get some lunch?” he looked at her. She nodded and he stood up with her in his arms, carrying her through to the kitchen where Emmy was already halfway through making a salad to go with the leftovers which were heating in the microwave.

“Thanks Em.” Steve said, dropping Rori onto a chair by the table before he moved over to grab some plates.

“Think we should save mom some?”

“No it’s ok.” Steve shook his head “if she’s hungry when she wakes I’ll make her a sandwich.”

Emmy nodded. “Oh, I thought Peter and Brooke could come over later, if that’s ok? I mean, if Harry’s not still sick.” “They can come over anyway, it’s fine.” Steve said, “Harry will most likely be upstairs anyway.”

“We were just gonna hang out by the pool for the evening…” “Em.” Steve chuckled “It’s fine…” and then he paused and smirked slightly as he looked at her “You want the beer don’t you?”

She wrinkled her nose and nodded.

“There’s plenty in the bar…just don’t get that drunk one of you drowns.” he said after a pause. “Explaining that to Peter’s Aunt or Jennifer would be a bit awkward.”

“Thanks dad.” she smiled at him.

They ate their lunch, the 4 of them chatting away, Steve pleased to see Rori was settled now, her earlier upset forgotten. Once they were finished Emmy took Rori and Jamie out into the garden to play on the jungle gym whilst Steve cleared the dishes. Every so often he glanced out of the window to see the kids playing a soft smile on his face. He enjoyed days like this, weekends or during the holidays when they were all together. It was just a shame their brother was too poorly to join in. He called out of the open door to tell Emmy he was nipping upstairs before he repeated the journey he had taken a little over and hour ago, checking his watch.

Katie glanced up as he opened the door, her finger on her lips.

“Hey…” he whispered.

She smiled and gave a soft yawn “How long have I been asleep?”

“Not sure sweetheart.” he said, “I came up about an hour or so ago and you were flat out.”

She gave another yawn and Harry stirred gently, his hand rubbing at his eyes before he settled back down. Katie gently felt his head.

“He’s not as warm as he was.” she said as Steve gently perched on the bed, smoothing back his son’s dark blonde hair.

“Rori got really upset.” he said, smiling softly “She mentioned Jemima’s brother.”

Katie sighed and frowned “Yeah. It was hard trying to explain that when we heard the news. Is she ok?”

“She’s fine.” he assured her “Gave her a pinkie promise Harry only had a tummy bug so.”

“Daddy’s girl.” she smiled and Steve gave a gentle chuckle.

“Peter and Brooke are coming over later.” he said “Emmy wants to hang out in the pool house with a few beers.” Katie smirked “You’re definitely going soft in your old age.”

“Well Emmy is 21 now so I can’t stop her and as for Pete and Brooke, well, sooner they do it here than in a bar.” he shrugged. “You want some lunch?”

Katie shook her head “I’ll eat later.”

Harry stirred again, only this time he grumbled slightly and blinked, opening his eyes sleepily. He looked at his momma before he nuzzled into her closer, his hand winding into her hair as he started to grizzle slightly.

“Hey baby…” she said, kissing his head.

He mumbled something again, his noises not quite forming into words yet, still being half asleep, and then he turned his head to peek up at his dad.

“You ok Pal?”

Harry eyed him for a moment before he moved and held out his arms in Steve’s direction. Slightly surprised Steve moved to take him in an embrace as the little boy snuggled into his chest and Steve kissed his head. Katie smiled, the sight of Steve with his kids was something she would never get tired of. Being a father brought out all his best qualities, just like the serum had amplified them, having kids had too.  He was loving, patient, gentle yet strong, stern and happy to deal out the discipline when appropriate.

She sat up, pecking him on the cheek at the point where his beard met smooth skin. “You know you might not have the shield anymore but you’ll always be their superhero.”

********

Much to Rori’s relief (and everyone else in the Rogers household for that matter) Harry’s illness only lasted 24 hours and he was back to his cheeky, happy little self the next morning. Arrangements pressed ahead for the party, it wasn’t a huge gathering-namely Rori’s closest friends from school and family- which was to take place the weekend before her birthday.  As she shared her day of birth with her late uncle, Katie always found the day a little bittersweet but she tried to keep any of her sadness and nostalgia at bay for the sake of her little girl and focus on the celebration instead.

By 2pm in the afternoon their garden was packed with 7 other 5 year olds, a couple of parents and the usual additional suspects, namely Morgan and Pepper, Jennifer and Brooke along with Bucky and Sam. Rori had stipulated that she didn’t want any games or anything, just to play in the garden on a bouncy castle with some “Princess Punch” which was basically pink lemonade full of chopped up strawberries and raspberries, something her dad had made her one day and she insisted that no one else could make it the same. So, that’s what she had gotten.

“So who’s the blonde Katie’s throwing shade at?” Sam asked as Steve handed him a beer. Steve groaned. Rori’s best friend, a girl called Aurelia was obviously at the party. And so was her mother. A certain Dani-with-an-I, the real-estator who had shown them around the first house they had looked at in Brooklyn all those years ago But, as Steve knew only too well, his wife held a grudge better than anyone he had ever met in his life.

Ever.

Sam gave a loud snort of laughter as Steve explained about the whole incident when they'd been looking round the house and Dani flirting with him whilst Bucky took another Asgardian beer from the stack Steve had placed in a specific chiller in the garage and popped the top off effortlessly with his metal hand. The three men emerged out of the side door back onto the garden, taking up their spot by the side of the garden overseeing the proceedings whilst the women were perched on the decking which ran flush along the back of the house. Katie was milling around the garden somewhere, making sure everyone was ok.

“Bet that makes for interesting conversations when Aurelia comes for sleepovers…” Bucky mused.

“Katie’s not callous enough to have issues with a child simply because she doesn’t like her mother.” Steve shook his head, immediately defending his wife. “In fact she’s nothing but welcoming to her, she’s Rori’s friend after all. She just keeps any exchanges between her and Dani to a minimum.”

“Well, you best watch your back…” Sam said “Because it looks like she’s heading over.”

Steve sighed and spun round to face Dani as she approached him.

“Hi Steve…”

“Hey Dani.” he said “Everything ok.”

“I don’t want to cause a fuss but, well Jamie and Morgan are causing a bit of an issue.”

“Issue?” Steve frowned. At that point Rori came running over to him, tears flooding from her face. “Princess…” he crouched down. “What’s wrong?”

“Jamie and Morgan are throwing those little ball thingies that bang at everyone!” Rori said, stamping her feet. Steve glared up at Bucky.

“I told you not to give him those!” “I aint given him any for weeks!” Bucky held his hands up. “He’s clearly stashed them…I’m sorry Rori…”

“What have you done now?” Bucky turned to see Katie stood there, her eyebrows raised, sunglasses perched on her head as they acted like a headband, keeping her long hair off her face.

“Given Jamie contraband.” Sam said.

“Those damned firecrackers?”

Bucky shrugged.

“You’re an ass.” she said to him as she crouched down to look at Rori. “You ok sweetie?”

“He keeps throwing them at me!” she yelled.

“Ok…” Katie soothed her, and Steve took the opportunity to glance at his wife. She still knocked him off his feet after all these years. Her make-up was light, leaving those freckles he adored on show, and the pale yellow and blue maxi dress she was wearing complimented her amazing figure and curves to perfection, leaving her shoulders bare bar the thin spaghetti straps which crossed at the back. And it was low cut enough that Steve could see a fair bit of sideboob as well. Which he would never complain about. She turned to Steve, raised her eyebrow as his gaze lifted from her chest to her eyes. “Did you hear a word of that?”

“No.” he said honestly. She snorted.

“I just said that you’d go and speak to Jamie and Morgan.” she said, nodding to Rori.

“I’ll deal with your brother, I promise…” Steve confirmed “Go and play and don’t worry about it…”

He wiped her tears away with his hands, gave her a kiss and stood up

“Where are they?”

“By the side of the pool house.” Katie responded at the same time Dani said the same thing.

“We got it, thanks…” Katie looked at the woman. She nodded and sidled off, Steve ignored the look of utter glee that Sam and Bucky shared at the fact Katie was getting all “Starky Snarky” as Sam called it. Katie watched her leave before she turned back to Steve, ignoring the look he was giving her. “Spotted the little shits before.” she continued “They’re trying to hide behind the stack of sun-loungers”

He nodded, dropped a kiss to Katie’s lips and headed off to find the trouble makers. He took the long way, striding round the edge of the pool so they wouldn’t see him coming. He stood simply watching them for a moment. Jamie and Morgan were thick as thieves. With little over a year between them, they’d practically grown up as brother and sister, which Steve and Katie loved, but they were a recipe for trouble. With Morgan’s cleverness and Jamie’s penchant for mischief they made a right pair. Jamie said something to Morgan and she sniggered and they both stood up which was when Steve made his move. He gently grabbed Jamie’s collar and the back of Morgan’s top, pulling them back, ignoring their yells of protest as he bent over.

“If you two don’t stop right now, you’re gonna be in big trouble.” his voice was low and steely as he spoke and the pair of them stiffened slightly. He let go and stood up, hands on his hips.

“Dad, we were only-“

“Son…” Steve cut him off, holding his hand up in an instruction to stay quiet “Just don’t.” He held his palm out in front of him “Hand em over…”

With a sigh and a scowl Jamie emptied his pockets, Morgan following suit and they both passed Steve the small boxes of the little white firecrackers.

“I mean it you two. One more toe out of line…”

“Sorry Uncle Spangles.” Morgan bowed her head.

“It isn’t me you should be apologising to” he said, looking at the 10 year old. She was getting more and more like Tony with each day that passed. He felt a little pang for his brother-in-law as he looked into her brown eyes and took a deep breath, his voice softer when he spoke again “Go and say sorry to Rori, both of you.”

********

“What’s Morgan done?” Pepper asked as Katie headed up to the decking.

Katie snorted “Her and Jamie have been throwing firecrackers.”

Pepper groaned “I’ll have a word…”

“It’s ok… Steve’s sorting it.” Katie shrugged “No biggie, just being kids…”

“I don’t understand how she can be so like Tony when he’s not around.” Pepper said gently.

“Stark DNA.” Katie grinned, “it’s strong.”

Pepper snorted. “Yeah, it must be.”

The two women watched as Steve spoke to the kids, taking the boxes off them before dismissing them. He strode across the lawn, looked up at Katie and gave her a smile before he made his way into the garage to dispose of the offensive ‘weapons’.

“Where did they even get them from?” Pepper asked.

“Bucky” answered Jennifer and Katie the same time. Katie glanced back over the garden, everything seemed to be back to normal. Her eyes fell on Dani who was now stood with one of the other mums that Katie had been speaking to earlier.

“Who’s that?” Jennifer asked.

“Some tramp.” Katie shrugged.

“Her name is Dani.” Pepper snorted “With an I…”

“Was she the last Trashbag you had to take out one morning?” Katie asked. “She mentioned something about that last time I met her and she does look a familiar.”

Pepper snorted. “No…she never got there. Not for the lack of trying. But you’re right, she does look a little like Christine Everhart.”

“Of course…” Katie snorted, “Christine…”

Katie wandered through from the kitchen in her cami and short pyjama set, clutching a bowl of cereal, groaning at the raging headache she was sporting. She was visiting home for a week or so to attend the Apogee Award ceremony in Vegas, which was honouring her brother. Pity he hadn’t actually cared enough to attend himself, instead living it up in the Casino. Obediah had accepted the award for him and then she’d continued drinking with the rest of the party that had turned up…and continued the drinking on the private jet home.  As she shuffled into the living area, she stopped dead looking at the blonde woman, dressed in nothing but one of Tony’s shirts as she sloped around their living area. Another one of Tony’s bimbos that he picked up in Vegas and flown home with them. Said bimbo made her way over to the pad that led to the workshop and pressed a few buttons.

“Hey, Tony?”

“You are not authorized to access this area.” Jarvis said, making her scream and jump. Katie sniggered.

“Jesus.” the woman said.

“No, JARVIS…” Katie spoke loudly and the woman span around. “He runs the house.”

“You must be Katie…”

“And you must be Miss Saturday.” Katie shrugged, sitting on the sofa “Well, for this week anyway…”

“Christine…” she said. “We met last night…”

“Yeah I don’t bother learning names.” Katie shrugged. “They never last long enough for me to give a shit.”

At that point Pepper walked into the room holding up a clothes carrier.

“I’ve got your clothes here. They’ve been dry-cleaned and pressed, and there’s a car waiting for you outside that will take you anywhere you’d like to go.” She said, smiling at the woman.

“You must be the famous Pepper Potts.”

“Indeed I am.” Pepper smiled.

“After all these years, Tony still has you picking up the dry-cleaning.” she commented sarcastically.

“Bitch.” Katie said loudly. Christine looked at her but Pepper simply remained still and smiled, her tone pleasant and even.

“I do anything and everything that Mr. Stark requires, including, occasionally, taking out the trash.”

At that Katie choked slightly on her cereal and looked up as the smug bint’s smirk slid off her face.

“Will that be all?” Pepper asked.

Christine took the hangar and sidled off.

“Taking out the trash…” Katie grinned “Pepper that was fucking genius!”

Pepper arched an eyebrow.

“Where is my dickhead brother?”

“Where do you think?” Pepper asked.

Katie hummed and put down her empty cereal bowl before she made her way through the door Christine had been trying to unlock and down to Tony’s workshop.

“JARVIS, lower that racket…” she muttered.

“Certainly Miss Stark…” 

The noise dimmed and Tony wheeled round “Please don’t turn down my music” “Good morning to you too.” Katie rolled her eyes “Last night’s conquest has left. Pepper just threw her out.”

“Speaking of which, you are supposed to be halfway around the world right now.” Pepper appeared but Tony wasn’t listening.

“How’d she take it?” He looked at Katie. 

“Like a champ.” she shrugged.

Tony grinned and then turned to Pepper “Why are you trying to hustle me out of here?”

“Your flight was scheduled to leave an hour and a half ago.”

“That’s funny, I thought with it being my plane and all, that it would just wait for me to get there.” Tony quipped sarcastically.

“Tony, I need to speak to you about a couple things before I get you out of the door”

“Doesn’t it kind of defeat the whole purpose of having your own plane if it departs before you arrive?” Tony continue and then Pepper’s voice rose.

At that point Katie groaned and decided she needed to go to bed before she split for her own flight home and left them to it. 24 hours later she was back in London, getting the notice from Rhodey that Tony was missing…

Laughter dragged Katie back out of her memory and she wiped her eyes slightly, memories of her brother still hit her hard. She turned to catch the last of Pepper’s explanation about Dani’s ‘antics’ at a Stark Party once to which Jennifer, Emmy and Brooke were all laughing along with as Pepper glanced at Katie.

“What is she doing here anyway?”

“Well, her daughter happens to be Rori’s bestest friend in the whole world.” Katie said, repeating the words Rori used to describe Aurelia her “And of course when I asked a few parents on the invites to join, she jumped at the chance.”

There was a pause as they all continued to watch the woman as she tilted her head back and laughed at something that one of the other mom’s had said.

“Is her hair even real?” Emmy asked suddenly.

“Nope. And neither are her tits…” Jennifer mumbled. “Aint no way she’s had a kid and they’re still…” she grabbed her own breasts and hoisted them up, causing all the women to snigger into their drinks.

“Momma?” Katie spun to look at Rori who was grinning up at her mum.

“Hey sweetie” Katie smiled, crouching down “You ok now?”

Rori nodded “Please can I get a drink?”

“Course you can baby…” Katie smiled “Why don’t you go ask daddy to grab you some of the Princess Punch?”

She gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek before she skipped off down the lawn to where Steve was stood with Bucky and Sam. Katie watched as he immediately looked down when Rori tugged at his black jeans. With a huge, genuine smile he swept her up, her legs causing Steve’s sweater to ride up and at the flash of his toned stomach Katie bit her lip.

“Down girl..” Jennifer mumbled and Katie snorted.

“That obvious?”

“You’re not exactly subtle…” Pepper smirked “That’s the Stark in you.”

Behind her she heard Emmy groan before Brooke quipped “Em, not being funny, but your dad is hot.”

“Fuck off.” Emmy shot back as Brooke cackled “That’s disgusting.”

“His best friend ain’t bad either…” Jenifer mused, cocking her head to one side as Bucky reached up to gently ruffle Rori’s hair, and then tilting his head towards her as she reached to do the same to him, a huge smile spreading across his face.

“Eww.” Brooke groaned, and this time it was Emmy’s turn to laugh.

“Speaking of which, where’s Peter?” Katie turned to Emmy.

“He’s dropping May and Happy at the airport and coming down later…” she said, a faint pink tinge on her cheeks. Katie looked at Pepper, the pair of them smiling to one another. Emmy and Peter had been pretty on and off over the last 5 years but seemed to have been going pretty steady over the last 12 months.

“Which reminds me, can you tell Dad and Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee to behave?” Emmy looked at her mum “They’re always teasing Pete…” “That is a right of passage.” Pepper said wisely “Tony was a shit to Steve when he started dating Katie.” “Tony was a shit to Steve way before that.” Katie grinned “But I gotta admit, he was never that pleased about how he found out.” “Which was?” Jennifer looked her.

“He walked in and found us in the kitchen half dressed…” Katie shrugged “Was his own fault, he should have knocked instead of swanning into my apartment like he owned it.” “Yeah, I don’t…” Emmy started before she shook her head “Shut up!”

“Erm, where are you two off to?” Katie heard Pepper say and she looked up to see Morgan and Jamie half in, half out of the kitchen door.

“The den Auntie Pep.” Jamie answered. “Gonna go watch a film.”

“Least you can’t cause any trouble in there…yes, I heard.” Pepper said sternly “Another toe out of line Morgan H Stark and I’ll take you home.”

“Sorry Mom…” she said, and Pepper dismissed her.

Katie smiled again and her attention turned back to the party. She glanced over the garden and was just about to head down to mingle again, not wanting to leave the rest of the parents feeling awkward when a certain blonde haired tramp caught her attention. She watched her for a moment as she walked over to Steve and then stiffened slightly as she touched his arm, but then she stepped way over the line.

“Oh hell no bitch…” Katie���s eyes narrowed as she saw Dani kiss Steve’s cheek.

“Kick her ass mom…” Emmy mumbled.

“Hold my beer…” Katie said, before she paused “Actually, on second thoughts… I’ll take the beer with me…”

“$50 dollars says Trashbag is leaving here in a box…” Brooke quipped. Pepper, Jennifer and Emmy all sniggered.

********

After getting Rori a glass of punch and retrieving another 3 beers for him, Sam and Bucky, Steve headed back across the lawn, Rori still following him.

“Daddy…” she spoke again.

“Yeah?” he looked at her.

“What are tits?”

Steve choked on his beer and heard Sam’s guffawing laughter from the side of him, punctuated by Bucky’s snorts.

“Ermmm…” Steve wiped at his sweater where his beer had slopped down the front and racked his brains “They’re a type of bird…” The laugher and snorts grew even louder. Steve looked at Rori who was frowning before she shook her head “Why would Aurelia’s mommy have fake birds?”

At that Sam began to cough, and Steve looked at him. He was doubled over, slapping his knees. Bucky was wiping his eyes and gave Steve a thumbs up. “Fake birds, I can’t…”  Bucky’s hand fell to Sam’s back as the pair of them continued to laugh.

“I don’t know…” Steve looked at Rori. “Who said that anyway?”

“Jennifer.” she said, and Steve rolled his eyes and glanced over at his wife who was stood, looking out over the garden. “Well Jennifer is just being silly.” Steve looked back at Rori “Don’t worry about it.”

Rori accepted his answer and ran off.

“You can stop laughing now.” he turned to his friends.

“Man, I love your kids.” Bucky said as Sam straightened up, wiping his eyes.

“Yeah well right now they’re behaving better than their mother.” Steve frowned.

“I dare you to say that to her face.” Bucky smirked “And whilst you’re at it, you can tell Jennifer you think she’s silly…”

Steve shook his head “I’m quite attached to my balls thanks, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Good luck with that…” Sam said, “Blonde haired real estator at 12 o’clock.”

Steve let out a silent groan, he really didn’t need this.

“Steve…” he felt an hand on his arm.

“Yeah?” he turned to face Dani, polite as always.

“I’m sorry about before,I didn’t want to get the kids into trouble.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Steve shrugged “Jamie and Morgan are a handful together.”

Dani laughed, and then stood on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. Steve hadn’t seen that coming. He stepped away slightly and gave her a smile as she looked at him.

“Well, Aurelia was really upset so thank you for sorting it out…”

“Wife…6 o’clock…” Bucky mumbled. But he needn’t have bothered, Steve knew his wife was behind him even before she slipped her arms round his waist, the hand that wasn’t clutching the beer bottle gently slipping under his black sweater, rubbing his stomach softly. He smiled to himself, knowing full well she was here to make a point, and gently placed his large hand over hers.

“Hey beautiful.” he said softly and Katie felt that fire in her belly light even more at his soft words.

“Hey…” she mumbled, pressing her face into his back, gently kissing between his shoulder blades through his sweater before she moved and slid into the space under his arm, placing herself between him and Dani. Steve rolled his eyes at his wife’s passive aggressive display of possessiveness and glanced at Sam who was grinning ear to ear, watching the exchange.

“You know, Mrs Rogers…” Dani smiled at Katie, ”I was just wondering if we were past the formalities of using our surnames now seeing as our daughters are inseparable? ”

She started to laugh and Katie continued to smile before she replied “Nope, I’m good with Mrs Rogers thanks.

Sam started to cough, which was clearly to cover up a laugh. Steve looked at him to see him smirking ear to ear.

“How’s your husband?” Katie looked Dani. “I don’t see him…”

“We’re not together anymore.” Dani said, her smile faltering slightly

“Oh, sorry to her that.” Katie replied, although her tone said otherwise “Guess he wasn’t a fan of you touching what doesn’t belong to you either.”

Dani’s face slipped, but luckily for her one of the other mom’s called her name and she excused herself. Katie watched her go before she felt Steve move his arm from her shoulders.

“That was mean.” he looked at Katie, his brow furrowed.

“I don’t like people touching my stuff…” Katie shrugged.

“You’re a fucking brat.” Steve said sternly, his face displaying no humour. Katie was completely unabashed by his tone and shrugged again

“I warned her last time I’d snap her hand off. She got off lightly.”

With that she turned and walked back towards Pepper and Jennifer. Steve watched her go, his face flushed with anger at her childish display.

“Damned…” Bucky whistled out. “I know you said she could be vicious, Steve, but wow…”

“I think that’s called marking your territory.” Sam quipped as Steve shook his head, the nerve in his jaw twitching.

“It’s called being rude.” He said, before he drained his beer and tossed the empty into one of the recycling tubs by the table “Scuse me fellas, I need to go have a word with my wife…” Bucky and Sam watched as he strode across the lawn, hand pushing his hair back off his face. He reached Katie, acknowledge the women before he gently wrapped his hand around her arm and bent to speak into her ear. She looked at him, frowned, and then allowed him to lead her inside.

“So now they’re gonna have a row and then angry sex, right?” Bucky looked at Sam. Sam nodded.

“Totally…shall we join the ladies?”

“Good idea.” Bucky agreed.

*******

“Uh oh Dad’s approaching…” Emmy said to her mum.

“Is he pissed?” Katie asked, grimacing slightly. As soon as he’d chastised her before she knew he wouldn’t leave it there and she was going to get a lecture about her attitude.

“He’s wearing his Captain’s face…” Emmy wrinkled her nose.

“Shit…”

“A word, inside now…” Steve’s voice was quiet, calm and level as he gently gripped Katie’s arm, but she recognised the icy tone it carried. Frowning slightly, she let him take her hand as he led her inside and through to the lounge. Steve shut the door behind him and Katie watched him, cocking her head to the side.

“Was there any need for that?” he said looking at her.

“For what?”

“You know damned well what.” he said, his voice still low as he raised an eyebrow “What you said to Dani, it was rude.”

“Whatever.” Katie rolled her eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me…”

“Don’t speak to me like I’m one of the kids…” she shot back, her voice slightly louder.

“Well stop acting like one of them.” Steve’s hands dropped to his hips. “The dig about her husband was awful, you do realise he cheated on her right?”

Katie’s face slipped a little “No, I didn’t…but, hang on, how do you know that?”

“She told me, the other week when I dropped Aurelia off home.”

“Oh so you’re like friends now, she confiding in you?”  Katie’s tone was steely.

“No, she just mentioned that she was grateful for us having Aurelia because she’d had an appointment with the solicitor. So maybe, just maybe you should think about apologising.”

“Piss off…” Katie laughed in disbelief. “She kissed you on the cheek…”

“And?” Steve frowned “You forget that plenty of guys do that to you…”

“My or our friends, yeah. She is NOT my friend Steve…”

“Do you seriously feel that threatened by her you have to be so downright nasty?”

“I’m not threatened…look, like I said before, I told her last time she touched my stuff again and I’d snap her wrist. She got off lightly.”

Steve shook his head at his wife, he loved the bones of this woman but sometimes her behaviour drove him up the wall. She could be so petty and obtuse it was ridiculous.

Rogers by name, Stark by nature.

There was a tense silence which Katie broke.

“Are we arguing still?”

Steve sighed “I’m not arguing with you, I’m just pointing out I think you were out of line. If you don’t think you were then that’s your prerogative.” Katie hummed, before she grinned and looked at him “Wanna go fuck in the Camero like last time?”

Steve shook his head, she was unbelievable.

“No.” he said simply, turning to open the door. But Katie wasn’t giving up that easily.

“Shame, because I’m not wearing any panties.”

Ok so that got Steve’s attention. He let out an inward groan as frankly, that sex they’d had in the garage after the previous Dani incident had been hot as fuck but no, he wasn’t giving in here. What was it she always told the kids? “Actions have consequences”

Damned right they do sweetheart.

He turned back to face her, his back pressing to the door as he glanced down at his hands, the sleeves on his sweater were rolled up slightly exposing his forearms. He raised his gaze to meet that of his wife’s and damned, he nearly caved, because she really did turn him on more than she would ever know. But right now, he wasn’t giving her what she wanted.

He sighed and repeated his earlier statement to her “Such a fucking brat.” before he turned and walked out of the room.

Katie remained where she was, stunned. For the first time ever, in their 16 years of being together she had failed to seduce her man.

@the-omni-princess   @momobaby227  @geekofmanythings16  @angelofhell-666  @thewackywriter  @marvelfansworld   @cobalt-gear   @asgardlover75​   @jennmurawski13​   @jtargaryen18​  @saiyanprincessswanie​   @navispalace​  @patzammit​   @joannaliceevans-fanficblog​   @icanfeelastormbrewing​  @djeniiscorner​   @ayamenimthiriel​   @coldmuffinbanditshoe​   @disneylovingal​  @madzmilllz​  @sgtjaamesbaarnes​ @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​     @fatbottomedbarnes @official-and-unstable-satan​

[remasteredinnuendo]

When the Party’s Over

The headlines would be explosive.

It wasn’t exactly a quiet, gentle exit as much as it had been loud and jagged. Completely graceless in every sense of the word. Ophelia could have handled it better, she knew it now. But she had been so spent, and so tired. Too tired.

That night had been full of the glitz and glamour of the Queen scene; the mansion was dripping in jewels and spilled champagne, glitter on the floor and sticking to the high heels of all the models invited. She, however, wasn’t a model.

She was the confidant, the best friend. The woman every tabloid turned to when they wanted an answer about her boys. She looked better than her part. A beautiful emerald green dress with a low neckline and a high slit against her leg. Freddie had given it to her, told her to wear a tiara. Made her look like a princess from the roaring 20s.

It was fun. Beautiful, even, the kind of chaos that transcended everything. The drinks and the drugs flowed as easily through people as water would. Roger was at the bar in his dashing white suit, committing at least two felonies in front of a group of giggling women. Brian was in the corner of the room playing his guitar along with the booming music playing from the speakers, intent on impressing the guests. Deaky was standing awkwardly next to a server, clutching onto his wife Veronica like he had been expecting a much smaller party.

And Freddie? The King himself was dancing through the bodies that swayed with ecstasy and a fleeting feeling of important. His crown was crooked on his head, his shoulders looking light despite the heavy royal cape dragging behind him. He had an overflowing glass of champagne in either hand, his feet moving ever so gracefully, successful in not spilling or wasting a drop.

It was different than it used to be. It was like none of them even realized she was here anymore. A part of her didn’t used to mind it; she knew exactly who she was.

Nobody.

But once she had been somebody— at least to them she had been. She sipped on a daiquiri while leaning her back against the wall, feeling so small. She remembered helping Brian study for an exam in university, and giving a lift to Roger in the middle of the AM when a girl had pushed him out of her bedroom window. Deaky used to take her for tea and he’d let her draw him sometimes when she was bored.

None of them were the same anymore. They were rock stars now, believing they were gods. Her home had very suddenly become very quiet at night, walking through the door alone. They all used to be there, ready with pizza and drinks on a Friday night, her record player already on.

Ophelia knew too much. It made her miss the old days when it was clear they were never ever coming back. She used to think being a distant friend to those she loved was better than nothing. But as she set her delicate glass down on a side table and took a deep breath, she knew she had to let it go.

This party was too much. It was all too damn much.

Gently tugging the tiara from her hair, plucking pins out from her strands with her white gloves, she carefully but quickly avoided collision. The front door seemed so far away.

Just like everything else.

She disappeared into the night, took her keys straight from the valet and asked to be pointed in the direction of her car. She didn’t want to be here anymore. She didn’t want to be a part of it.

Ophelia stayed beneath the hot water of her shower for an hour that night. Made sure to wash away every last remnant of mascara and glitter that wanted to stick to her skin. She hid the dress in the back of her closet, put on the kettle, and stayed in her bed until noon the next morning.

No phone calls came until a week later.

They mainly came from Veronica, and then from Deaky. No one else called for a little while after that. No one questioned her absence or noticed it. For that period of time, she felt at peace. She went to work each day, buying coffee on the way. No one knew who she was when she was herself. And she realized for the first time in a long time that she didn’t have to pretend to live in their world.

If they wanted to leave her behind, maybe it was time.

Everyone had their time, when the clock on their relationship would run out and the door would gradually close shut. She had been waiting for it for a long time, and could hear the timer in the background since the day they signed their first record deal.

It was time.

And it wasn’t until she found Freddie standing outside of her apartment one evening that she realized it had to be final.

There were no bodyguards, no paparazzi. He stood against her blue door with his fancy clothes and shades covering his eyes, and he didn’t look anything like the Freddie Bulsara she had once made pinky promises with.

“Where have you been, darling?” Freddie asked without saying hello. He puffed on a cigarette.

She felt her palms sweat in the pockets of her coat, and it was more than the humidity of a London February. “I’ve been busy.” Her voice wasn’t as quiet as she thought it might be.

He frowned at her. “I’ve been busy, too. Touring the world, making history. Becoming a legend,” he casually mentioned, pulling the sunglasses down so she could see his eyes. They were slightly glazed over. “Yet I’m here.”

“No,” Ophelia told him, taking her keys and pushing past him. She pressed it into the lock. “You’re not here. The frontman of Queen is here— not my friend. And they are two very different people.”

As she turned the handle to her apartment door, Freddie scoffed and tossed his cigarette into a plant in the corridor. “Darling, I am Queen. I’m not sorry you’re just jealous.”

It took everything in her power not to kick her front door open and slam it shut behind her. Some would say not to burn bridges. But she felt, if necessary, like letting the kerosene kiss it on the lips so she could watch something better be reborn from the ash. Her friend used to make her happy. But there was always more than one way to cross the water.

If needed, she would do it all by herself.

“Leave, Freddie,” she told him. “I’m not jealous— I miss you. And if you don’t know the difference anymore then we don’t know each other anymore.”

A sneer grew on his beautiful face. He wasn’t himself. “You’ll never get another chance in your life. You’ll regret this day when you see us on a yacht, wearing bathing suits that cost more than you could earn in two years.”

Ophelia gave him a small smile. “I never stuck around for the money, Freddie.”

And then swiftly, the door clicked shut between them both. She listened to his fist pound on the other side for a few seconds before listening to his curses recede down the hallway. It felt like a weight was lifted from her chest, but she couldn’t help but feel sad.

The tears pooled in her eyes. She shrugged off her coat and sat at the window, finally seeing the cameras that had found him. He didn’t try moving through them or past them. He liked the attention; and there was nothing wrong with that, except it was the only thing that gave him life now. The only air he could breathe.

She could hear their shouts from down there. All were asking about his sour face and saying how they had seen her dash out of the party a few weeks ago. He listened to them, cracking a joke or two. But then, when they fell silent enough for him to truly speak, he chose words less than kind.

“The bitch can drown in her self-pity for all I care.”

And as Freddie laughed his drug-soaked laugh, she found herself darting to her closet and back to the window. She tore it open, tears down her cheeks. A flicker of rage made for a moment she wouldn’t be proud of.

But Ophelia threw her hand out the window and watched the beautiful emerald fabric float beautifully, tragically, over the small crowd. It landed in a fresh puddle, the mud immediately soaking its beauty. Diminishing it, and effectively ridding herself of any commitment to see him again.

His open mouth said it all. Perhaps Freddie had thought this would be one of their petty arguments that would end in a month, and they’d all be together again. Perhaps he had wanted her to keep the dress because he wanted her to come to another party soon.

But she wanted rid of the vile, expensive thing; nothing was going to be held over her head. She didn’t want to imagine herself as anyone else anymore. The dress wasn’t hers, and she didn’t want it anymore. She wasn’t that person.

And as the cameras went wild and the reporters began their assault of questions and accusations, Ophelia shut the window.

She did so knowing fully well that no amount of heartbreak would make her un-love him.