#SAD AND WILTING LIKE YOUR BOSS | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deaddovedecadence · 8 months ago

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Title: The Tsumiki years

Summery: it wasn't always just you, Your Father and Megumi. Once there were four (a prologue for the Dad! Gojou verse that doesn't have a name, and if you want more of it, check out my #demon mode tag)

Warning(s): possessive behavior, parentification, dead dove do not eat, this is pretty tame actually, belittling.

Request(s): none

When you were young you didn't have the words for what Gojou your father did to you. Sometimes when you think about telling people, even though you know it'd get them killed or hurt or something worse then any of that, you still don't have the words.

He brought Megumi and Tsumiki to you maybe a few something after you were taken. You're not sure. Barely remember them coming (liar).

"Hello?" A warm little voice says, "are you alright?" You shake your head wildly, and the voice hums. "Can you look at me? It's rude not to look at people when they're talking to you. You know that. He's told you a couple times.

You look away from the couch only to see a girl with pretty blue eyes staring at you with something you don't know. "Why are you crying?" She asks, edging her way into the narrow spot behind the couch. There's a boy behind her, watching you with green, green, eyes. You don't want to look at him, reminds you too much of Him.

Once the girl is close, she takes your hand from your person, half humming a lullaby. "I don't know why you're sad but maybe if you come out, you'll feel better." You won't, you know that but you follow th girl anyways, keeping a hand tucked in hers.

He's waiting for you outside of the couch area, clearly amused with your rebellion. "This is Tsumiki," He introduces the girl, "and Megumi," the boy. He's got a weird name for a boy. You tell him so. He looks pissed for a moment before the now named Tsumiki scolds you. "Not nice. He can't choose his name you know." With that she walks away, the one named Megumi, right on her heels.

Somehow you feel bad, like you shouldn't have done it. She reminds you of your mom, warm and stern and something a little bit scary. "I explained to Tsumiki and Megumi that you're still adjusting here, that I only adopted you recently and to give you a little bit of space." He says softly, "They will tell me if you run away sweetie." You hate pet names, they make you want to scream. He doesn't seem to care.

You were so naive them, actually thought that he was lying. You know better know. Megumi has always been on your father's side and when she was... here , so was Tsumiki.

There were good times, and you know that. Know that Tsumiki wanted you to be happy with them and sometimes you think she could have understood. That's not to say that there weren't good times, there were but somehow your father always managed to ruin them.

"Miki that isn't how you do it!" you snap, tugging the doll away from her. You've always liked to create, to do fashion and you've been trying to show her what you like to do.

Your Father (not dad, never dad even little you knows better then that) keeps you in dolls and gets you new things for them when he says you've been good. Tsumiki likes to play with you but you don't know how to explain to her that she doesn't do it right, that house has a mom and a dad and not just a dad and siblings.

Megumi doesn't like to play at all but he'll watch sometimes or sit near with his dogs. He's gotten good at manifesting them, something that you aren't allowed to do. Your Father says that you are too weak, too soft to ever use the cursed energy that you know you have because you can make flowers grow and wilt whereas Tsumiki can only see, not use. She doesn't seem to mind though, likes watching, and somehow even bosses your father around. She's big and strong.

Your Father walks in just as you've managed to convince Tsumiki that a mom is important, even though she thinks that moms are silly. They're aren't lots of things that Miki thinks are silly but when she does there isn't any telling her anything else. "What's going on here?" He asks, and Megumi looks away from his dogs, says "They're trying to decide if you need a mom for house." Your Father hums, and takes a doll away, and says, "Mom's don't do anything. That's why we have older sisters." Tsumiki beams and you feel... sad. Moms are important but maybe they aren't as important as sisters?

Tsumiki ran the house with a gentle iron fist and by the time you and Megumi were ten even Your Father was listening to her. Like cleaning day. You still feel... something when you think about cleaning day.

Tsumiki wakes everyone up in the early morning, Megumi following at her side. As much as the two of them argue, he's always at her side, glaring at the shadows when they get too rowdy which doesn't happen very often. Megumi is strict with his shadows (with you). There's a knock at the door and Tsumiki goes to answer it.

"Satoru-san," Tsumiki trills and your blood goes cold, "You remembered that it's cleaning day!" There are supplies in his hands and a splatter of blood on his face. Tsumiki doesn't seem to care.

She tried to reason it out once, explained to you that the people your Father kills aren't Family so it doesn't really matter in the long run, not to someone who's been raised by assassins and killers her whole life. You are glad to this day that you never forgot the Before.

Your Father smiles at Tsumiki and runs gentle fingers through her hair. "You've been reminding everyone since Monday," he says and he's so much gentler with Tsumiki and Megumi then you, never makes them feel worthless and weak even though you have more cursed energy then Tsumiki.

"I have," She says, "because I can't let you run away from helping". Your Father snorts, and watches for Megumi who's slinked over and is looking at him with a critical eye. "You're going to get blood on Miki's carpet. Go wash up." It's funny to watch the man who took everything (what did you even have before him? Don't you belong here? what happened to you?) get bossed around by someone exactly your age (it doesn't feel that way. Megumi isn't a child but he is a threat).

Your Father ruffles Megumi's hair and he snaps at him with teeth. Megumi's teeth are a little too sharp to be human teeth. You shudder. He notices, gives you an itty bitty little smile.

"You leave my baby alone Satoru." Tsumiki says lightly, the only person that Satoru even really thinks about listening to, and all of you get to cleaning.

You tackle the cabinets and it's kind of soothing, to do something that you can't be criticized for.

Megumi cleans the living room, using his shadows to wipe the places he can't get to. You like watching him, especially when he's happy like this.

Tsumiki does laundry, pile after pile get folded by her sure, steady hands, the same ones that chop up dinner every night, (the same ones that follow Your Father's instructions), the same ones that tuck you in to this day, humming a lullaby as you fall asleep.

Your Father cleans the bedrooms, mostly his because Tsumiki insists that yours needs to be clean and Megumi is a neat freak on his own, thankfully for everyone because he can tsumiki share a bedroom.

No one but the four of you are aloud here. Tsumiki likes it clean anyways, says that it's good to have a clean mind for a steady soul. You want it to be Monday already, you like school even if Megumi is in your class and no one wants to talk to you cause he's so scary.

You miss Tsumiki, for a lot of reasons.

#yandere #platonic yandere #yandere writing prompts #yandere platonic #demon mode #yandere gojo #yandere megumi #jjk #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #dadjo

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etherealphosphor · 1 year ago

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Wilting Rose Petals

⟡ Contains: Dottore x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Angst, Dottore has Hanahaki Disease, Mentions of coughing up blood, Mentions of painkillers, Good ending

BIG TW: Dottore is su!c!dal, please refrain from reading this if the content triggers you.

Being the Second of the Fatui Harbingers, Dottore had naturally been a cold and reserved man for most of his working life. Even before joining the Harbingers, he was more or less the same, only interested in his research. To him, conversation was a bore, and small talk was practically torture. Getting his business done while interacting with the least amount of people possible was an ideal day at work for him. In the past, the only people he really talked to were his segments.

However, oddly enough, his entire demeanor shifted when you—his part-time assistant—was around. He would go out of his way to talk to you, completely ignoring his responsibilities for however long he could manage to keep you. Dottore’s affection for you was painfully obvious to everyone who worked in the headquarters, as his mood greatly increased when you walked through the door.

His attitude altered so much when he was in your presence, to the point that if one needed to ask Dottore for a favor, they would wait until after you swung by his office. That was quite a wide-spread tactic in the Fatui Headquarters, and for good reason. Dottore would genuinely consider doing a favor for someone due to the cheery mood you put him in, as long as it was easy enough. However, if they interrupted his time with you, they'd be met with only unreasonableness and an incredibly short fuse.

To Dottore, you were the one thing he treasured in life. In recent years, his research lost its appeal and became awfully boring to him. Day after day, year after year, it was all the same. And for what? Why did any of it matter? What was he even living for anymore? Thoughts like those were normal for him. However, you kept him sane. You were like a helping hand in his time of need. You were the one thing that kept him alive each day.

Dottore’s heart and body yearned for you in ways he couldn’t describe. You were the singular light in his dark and lonely life. Even so, he didn’t want to tell you how he felt, for fear of losing you. Archons, what would he do if you never wanted to talk to him again? If he lost his beacon of hope, he wouldn’t know how to live on. So, instead of pursuing you, Dottore decided it was best to leave you as a fantasy that helped him keep his head above water.

As Dottore was daydreaming of you to distract himself from his mind, one of his segments—Theta—walked into his office.

"Hey Boss, is [Name] going to be here today? I know how much you enjoy their company. You get so gloomy when they aren’t around." Theta said in a playful tone as he leaned on the desk, smirking at Dottore.

Dottore felt a pang of sadness at being reminded of your absence. "[Name] is busy today and likely won’t be present."

"Oh, that’s a shame. You’re all smiles when [Name] walks through the door." Theta laughed.

"I am simply happy to be handing off some tasks to someone else. That’s all." Dottore lied, a smile creeping onto his face.

"Aw, come on. Don’t lie to me! I know you like them." Theta teased.

"I do not." Dottore replied, wearing that same grin that told Theta everything he needed to know.

"So, what is it about them, huh? What is it that’s got the Second Harbinger himself all lovesick?"

Dottore sighed. "..everything."

Theta’s eyes lit up. "Woah, you actually have human emotion? I was starting to doubt it. Man, I gotta tell the others!"

Before Dottore could call him back, Theta had run off to gossip with the other segments. He had always been the same. After Theta left, that happy expression on Dottore’s face faded quickly. He was good at covering up how he felt around other people, putting on a show of confidence for everyone around him. However, his personality completely shifted when he was left alone with only his thoughts to accompany him.

Putting his head in his hands, Dottore tried to calm his mind. Archons, he missed you. It had only been a day since he last saw you, and yet it was still agony to him. He was addicted to every aspect of you; you were his person. His only source of true joy.

How was he supposed to focus on his work if any hope of you coming to visit him was extinguished? If only—against all odds—you'd just walk into his office and give him the energy he needed to keep going.

And, as if his prayers were answered by Celestia itself, you appeared at the door, which was left ajar when Theta had run off.

"Good morning, Dottore!" You greeted him. "I’m sorry for not coming in sooner; as you know, I was busy."

Dottore’s heart fluttered in response. Oh, how happy he was to see you. "No, don’t apologize to me. You’re perfectly fine; everyone is busy on occasion. I assumed you were going to spend the whole day with Pulcinella."

"Well, I expected to originally, but I managed to complete all the tasks assigned to me in quick time. After all, I despise doing work for Pulcinella; I just wanted it to be over." You said.

"Oh? Really? What’s the problem with working for him?" Dottore asked, curious.

"He’s just so set in his ways. If I don’t do what he wants me to do in the exact way he does it, he’ll make me redo the entire thing. Even if it’ll all come out to the same solution! I very much prefer being your assistant, Dottore."

Dottore blushed at the compliment, but since his face was hidden behind his mask, you never noticed. "You do? What’s so much better about the tasks I assign?"

"Well, it’s more about the fact that I actually like you. You don’t criticize my every action, and you’re nice to me." You grinned at him.

"I like you too, [Name]." Dottore replied, before quickly clarifying, "You’re a lovely assistant. Maybe you should ask to work for me full-time."

"Unfortunately, Pulcinella would lose it. He already complains about me spending too much time running errands for you, as opposed to helping out the other harbingers."

"Why should you care what he thinks? If he asks for your assistance and then complains about the way you complete said task, then you are perhaps not the kind of person he is looking for. He should let that go and find someone else instead of berating you."

You considered that for a moment. "You’re right, Dottore. Maybe I should–"

Suddenly, you were cut off by a yell from outside. "[NAME], YOU FORGOT TO FILE THESE PAPERS IN OPPOSITE-ALPHABETICAL ORDER! I ASKED YOU TO FILE THEM FROM Z TO A, NOT A TO Z!"

"Better get back to work, then. We can talk about this later." You sighed before sprinting out of the room. "Coming! I apologize for my error, Pulcinella!"

The moment you left, Dottore was overcome with a strong urge to slam his head into his desk. He felt like a fool; it was so clear that he was begging for you to spend every day with him. He just hoped you hadn’t picked up on his subtle flirting throughout the conversation. After all, he wasn’t exactly good at keeping a straight face when you complimented him—something that could definitely give away how he felt.

'I like you too, [Name].' What was I even thinking when I said that!? Of course, they don’t feel the same things I feel about them. They just enjoy working for me; that’s all they meant by that. But, Archons, it felt good to hear them say that they liked me.

As he inwardly cursed himself, his thoughts began to wander to even more self-deprecating ones. How could someone like you ever harbor the same care that he did for you? What did he even do to deserve your attention? Someday, would you consider him more than just someone you worked for? Was he even worth it? Would you hate him if he confessed?

Now Dottore was stuck between two equally unpleasant options. Either continue his dull and monotonous work or let his brain fill the silence by telling him how unworthy he was. Neither choice was something he particularly wanted, but he knew that his research must be completed for the day.

And so, day after day, he spent most of his time in his office, doing research just to fit the requirements of what was expected of him. Archons, he was so tired of it all. Nothing mattered to him anymore—except for you, maybe.

Each time you walked into his office, his day got significantly better. Unbeknownst to you, Dottore set aside all his work just to talk to you. You had simply assumed he was just so on top of everything that he could spare the time. Dottore had occasionally considered asking you out to a nearby cafe—just as work friends—but he was too worried that you’d take the invite the wrong way.

And so, he held his tongue. Of course, his heart begged for him to just make a move on you, but his brain prevented him from doing so. He knew that if his last reason to live was to be scared away, he’d surely fail to go on. Months went by like this; Dottore desperately longing for your affection.

One day, as Dottore sat at his desk, he suddenly felt the urge to clear his throat—almost like something was blocking his airway. Coughing a couple times, Dottore felt the strange object become dislodged and fall gently into the hand he was using to cover his mouth. Looking down, Dottore spotted a small petal; the shade was barely even pink; one could argue that it was closer to white than anything else.

Met with this odd occurrence, Dottore couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with him. After all, one doesn’t just start coughing up flowers for no reason. But after taking a minute to think, Dottore couldn’t recall the last time he was around a flower. After all, flowers in Snezhnaya die unless kept inside, and Dottore had none in his office.

Despite his suspicions, Dottore decided to chalk it up to a peculiar circumstance with no further investigation required. However, when he coughed up another petal, he knew that this situation was much more serious. Dottore was very knowledgeable about all of Teyvat’s various illnesses, so it didn’t take much more pondering for him to connect the dots.

Coughing up petals.. no… no. It can’t be. I can’t possibly have contracted Hanahaki Disease. There’s absolutely no way.

Dottore immediately began pulling books on various types of illnesses off of the shelves in his office, flipping through them, hoping to find something—anything—on the specific ailment.

After about a minute, he found exactly the page he was looking for in one of the books. Quickly, he read through the section on possible cures. There was no chance he was going to tell you of the affection he secretly held for you. And even less likely, have you reciprocate his feelings? Impossible. Simply impossible.

Confessing… confessing… That won’t do—not at all. Even if I did decide to—which I heavily doubt—the likelihood of [Name] sharing my affection.. I don’t want to think about it. It’s impossible. Dottore thought, skimming through the text.

As Dottore continued to read, he came to a realization. His options were either to somehow woo you into loving him or to hold his tongue and die in the process.

When he realized these were his two options, Dottore wasn’t exactly sure how to feel. Any normal person wouldn’t wait for the disease to end them and would instead confess to their person, no? However, Dottore wasn’t the average man. He was tired of work—or, to be more precise, he was tired of living. When he really thought about it, what he wanted most was for it all to end. To eternally sleep in silence and in peace. No more responsibilities, and no more pain. This disease was his way out.

And so, he decided to accept his fate. He would leave the world behind due to his disease, and he wouldn’t look back. Not for anyone; not even you.

More time passed, and each day, Dottore coughed up flower petals more frequently. He observed that the color of the petals was gradually getting darker each time they appeared. However, he wasn’t that concerned. After all, he would finally have a chance to escape the constant cycle of his meaningless life. He was tired of holding on by a thread and a hopeless fantasy; all he really wanted now was to rest.

Even if Dottore wasn’t worried about himself, you certainly were. Even with Pulcinella constantly requesting your help, you still interacted with Dottore on occasion. Perhaps it wasn’t exactly much, but it was still enough to get a good sense of where Dottore was in terms of health. You had noticed his posture had gotten worse, and so had his general demeanor. Before, he used to straighten up when you walked into his office and would greet you with a smile. However, nowadays, he always seemed exhausted and burnt out.

What especially worried you was the strange coughing you occasionally heard from him, which sounded as if he was quite ill. You wished to get to the bottom of what was going on with him, but you didn’t want to inquire about things that weren’t your business.

You knew that if Dottore was suffering from an ailment, he would simply take the measures needed to cure himself. So why exactly did he still seem so sick? Was the treatment not working? Or was it just not taking effect yet? The only other possibility you could think of was that his sickness could not be easily treated. You weren’t sure what it could be, so you tried to calm your mind by assuring yourself that you were likely overthinking. Dottore would get over it in a couple weeks, right?

However, little did you know, that cough of his could very well be the end of him.

One day, as Dottore was strolling through the headquarters’ hallways, he stopped by a window to look out at the falling snow. He never really noticed the beauty of it until now—not until there was a chance he’d never get to see it again. Due to his focus being elsewhere, he didn’t notice Delta—another one of his segments—behind him until he spoke up.

"Something is wrong with you, Boss." Delta said evenly; it wasn’t a question.

Not bothering to turn around, Dottore replied calmly, "Nothing is wrong with me. Why would you think that, Delta?"

"Do you really think you can assure me just by denying my suspicions? First of all, you’ve been coughing for months; something is clearly up with your health, both physical and mental. Secondly, I saw the pages you marked in that book you left on your desk. Hanahaki, was it? Am I correct in thinking that this matter has something to do with [Name]? You’re quite fond of them, after all."

"You shouldn’t be getting involved in other people’s problems, Delta. You should know better than that." Dottore spoke in a cold tone.

"No, you should know better! You’ve always been like this—awfully stubborn. You’re mistreating yourself, Boss! I can’t just stand by and watch it happen. I’m getting involved in your problems because you won’t help yourself!" Delta raised his voice.

"When have you ever had control over my actions? You’re merely my segment; I am the one with power over you, not the other way around. I’d advise you to get your nose out of my business. It is my choice and mine alone whether or not I get help." Dottore walked away from Delta without another word.

Along with Dottore’s fading footsteps, Delta could hear him coughing as he left. He was so frustrated; why couldn’t Dottore just accept his aid? Why did he have to be so stubborn as to refuse to confess to you, even if it meant the death of him? Dottore of all people should have known that there was no alternative cure for Hanahaki Disease. So what in the world were his motives?

Delta was thoroughly confused by the man’s behavior. However, Dottore had his eyes on one goal and one goal alone: ending his miserable life. Absolutely nothing could get in his way. Archons, how he wished for an opportunity like this. All he had to do was wait until his body finally gave out, and then all would be still.

As more weeks passed, Dottore’s Hanahaki Disease steadily got worse. His throat had begun to feel sore, and it was quite painful to speak. However, through the pain, his hope was restored. His disease had gotten to the later stages; his life was coming to an end at last.

One evening, as Dottore was working on his soulless research, Delta came in to check on his condition.

"Boss? Is everything going okay?"

Dottore beckoned for him to come closer, not saying a word. The only noise that could be heard was his slight coughing as some rouge-colored petals fell from his mouth. Once Delta was close enough, Dottore wrote the names of some painkillers on a slip of paper and handed it to him.

Taking the paper, Delta stared down at the man before him. "What do you want me to do with this? Do you need me to get you these pills from your lab?"

Dottore simply nodded.

"Boss, painkillers won’t make your Hanahaki Disease go away. You can’t just keep ignoring it! You are hurting for a reason; your body needs help. The other segments and I are all worried for you; even [Name] is uneasy. You know, they miss you a lot, Dottore. We all do."

At the mention of your name, Dottore covered his ears, refusing to listen any further. He was determined to calm the beating in his heart that was triggered by Delta mentioning your concern for him. He couldn’t let his feelings for you interfere with his plans.

Eventually, Delta gave up trying to reason with him and went off to retrieve the medicine. After all, he wasn’t going to make Dottore suffer more than the man always was. However, there and then, Delta decided that he needed to tell you what was going on. He had wanted to inform you for a while, but felt guilty about breaking Dottore’s trust. But now, in his heart, he knew it was more important to save him.

Once Delta had acquired the medicine, he came back to find Dottore coughing up more petals than normal. He set down a couple pill bottles on Dottore’s desk, as well as a glass of water for him to swallow them with.

Archons, he just gets worse and worse every day. Delta thought, before bidding him farewell and closing the door to his office.

Just before Dottore was about to take his medication, he had another bout of coughing. The glass of water fell to the floor and shattered as Dottore doubled over in pain. This time, it felt absolutely excruciating, and the magenta-colored petals that fell to his desk were stained with his blood.

Dottore felt that crimson liquid spill from his mouth and drip onto the desk. He knew at this point that he was really, truly dying. However, even so, he felt oddly at peace. His years of labor would finally come to an end. His life would come to an end.

He had to pinch himself just to get the pills down, as the pain of swallowing was making his eyes sting. His own blood was enough for him to take the medication with, as the glass of water was no longer an option. All he had to do was endure half an hour of this torture before his throat would go numb.

Just as Dottore was heading to his private chambers to relax a bit as he waited for the pain to cease, he overheard Delta speaking to someone.

Delta was frantically trying to tell you something. "[Name], I have some extremely important information that you need to know about. It’s concerning Dottore and why he hasn’t been his usual self. He has—"

Just as Delta was about to reveal his secret, Dottore grabbed his neck, pulling him away from you.

Through the pain, Dottore managed to say, "That information isn’t for you to share as you please, Delta."

Feeling a hand on his neck, Delta went silent. Dottore wasn’t choking him, but this action was enough to stop him from telling you about the man’s disease.

Dottore dragged Delta away, leaving you alone to ponder what in the world was so important that Dottore had to threaten Delta just so he wouldn’t say it? Meanwhile, Dottore spoke quietly to Delta in an empty hallway.

"Delta. I don’t want to have to do this, as you’re the segment I trust the most. Zeta is too mysterious, Epsilon is too naive, Theta doesn’t take anything seriously, and Psi is never here. That is why I am reluctant to make a decision about your future; you are making things hard for me." Dottore spoke, enduring the pain speaking caused to his throat that had yet to fade.

"What are you talking about, Boss? What decision?" Delta nervously asked him.

"If this continues, I may have to send you away to a different nation, somewhere far away, where you cannot tamper with my plans."

"Oh really? You want to send me away? And what plans? What plans have you ever had!? Do you really intend to pass away just because you don’t want to tell [Name] that you love them!?" Delta yelled at Dottore.

"This is exactly what I mean. You get too involved with other people’s worries." Dottore spoke coldly.

"I’m loyal to you! That’s what this is, Boss! Loyalty! I want to save your life above all else, don’t you see!?"

Dottore sighed. "Yes, I see that, Delta. However, my orders are for you to stand back."

Now, Delta was extremely frustrated with him. "I care about you! I can’t just watch you perish! Boss, it’s almost as if you want to die!"

"MAYBE I DO!" Dottore snapped. "EVER THOUGHT ABOUT THAT, DELTA!? HAS ANYONE EVER CONSIDERED THAT!?"

Time seemed to stop.

"I—Boss? What?"

Regretting his words, Dottore quickly walked away from him, heading to his private chambers. "Forget it, Delta. It doesn’t matter."

"No—wait—this is serious. Boss? Boss, are you—" Delta tried to go after Dottore, but the man had already locked himself in his room.

"Please, leave me alone." Dottore said from behind the locked door.

Dottore fell onto his bed, exhausted. Archons, it hurt for him to speak. And yelling on top of that? He was surprised that it only hurt a medium amount, and didn't feel like his throat was being ripped open. He could feel blood dripping onto his bedsheets; he’d have to clean it up later. Now all he could do was ignore Delta’s desperate pleas for him to come out as he waited for the painkillers to kick in.

Meanwhile, you were absolutely shocked. Curiosity had gotten the better of you, and you had eavesdropped on their argument. All this new information had hit you like a truck. You had no clue that Dottore felt the way he did.

Dottore is dying from.. Hanahaki Disease? What is that? He wants to die? He.. loves me..? Archons, I’m so confused.. You thought, before running off to the library stationed in the Fatui Headquarters.

You were certain to find something on diseases in there, as it contained shelf after shelf of informational books on every topic under the sun.

As you rushed through the doors, the librarian slowly looked up at you. "Need something, honey? You look like you’re in a hurry."

"Yes, I do need help." You said, out of breath. "D-do you have anything on Hanahaki Disease?"

"Aw, someone’s lovesick, huh? What a shame; all you can do is hope they like you back." The woman said lazily, typing something up on her computer. "Well, we do have a couple books containing some information on that illness. Follow me, honey."

"I–the book is for.. a friend." You clarified.

"Mhm, that’s what they all say. Just make sure you return the book before you die; it’s such a hassle to go looking for them." The librarian replied as she led you over to a shelf.

"I’m not dying, ma’am."

"Sure you’re not, honey. Denial is all you have left, I suppose."

The woman began to pull a couple heavy books off the shelf, handing them to you. You nearly fell over due to the weight in your arms.

"Ma’am, I think I’ll be okay with these for now. Thank you." You said, nearly about to tip over.

"Good for you; have fun. Or don’t. I don’t really care. I’ll be at my desk if you need anything." The librarian walked away, leaving you to do your research.

You skimmed through the first one of the thick books, looking for a section on Hanahaki Disease. Once you found it, you thoroughly read through the entire text.

Unrequited love.. You could feel your heart beating quicker. Of course, you held very tender emotions towards Dottore, but you were too afraid to say anything before. Now was not the time to be getting butterflies over him—he was in serious danger.

You now knew you were the key to saving him. However, you were lost on what to do. Dottore had himself locked in his room and wouldn’t even listen to his most trustworthy segment, Delta. If you pushed him, Dottore would only hide away further. And then you’d truly never get the chance to save him.

You’d need to lure him out somehow, wouldn’t you? But how would you accomplish that? You were still pondering that as you walked out of the library, awkwardly carrying one of the giant books. As you headed towards your room to give yourself time to ponder, you overheard Delta pleading with Dottore.

"Boss, we can talk about this, okay? It doesn’t have to be this way. If you just let me help, things can get better. Please don’t give up like this."

Still hiding behind that locked door, Dottore responded, "I don’t need your help, Delta. Just leave. I want to sleep."

"No, Boss. I’m not leaving. You need help; you just don’t know how to accept it. I’m staying out here until you’re ready."

Your heart lurched painfully at that. What in the world would you do? You weren’t sure exactly how far along the disease had gotten, but he was still talking in clear sentences, which was a good sign that he wasn’t on his death bed yet. Still, when you thought back, his cough had started quite a long time ago, so he was likely in the latest stages. At best, he had maybe a week left. You didn’t want to assume he’d hold on for much longer, so you knew that you needed to act fast. You’d try to save him in the morning if he came out of his room.

Meanwhile, Dottore was just trying to fall asleep. Archons, his body was so exhausted. Delta hadn’t stopped begging him to come out and likely wouldn’t for a while. Dottore’s eyelids began to feel heavy, and he could sense himself drifting off. He wasn’t even quite sure if he’d see the next day; he really hoped he wouldn’t. Then his pathetic and miserable life would finally come to an end.

However, to Dottore’s great disappointment, he did wake up the next day. His body felt weak and oddly warm, and he longed to go outside in the snow to cool off. When he opened his door, he found that Delta had spent the night curled up outside of it.

Dottore carefully stepped over his sleeping body and began heading towards a door to the outside. That particular exit to the Fatui Headquarters wasn’t well known and therefore didn’t warrant being guarded. It was almost too good to be true, as the last thing Dottore wanted was for his plans to be discovered by anyone else. He didn’t want anyone’s help.

Once Dottore reached the exit, he stumbled outside, slowly making his way out into the snow. He wasn’t wearing the proper layers, just a collared shirt and pants, but he still felt too warm. The falling snowflakes melted on his skin, cooling him down just a bit. It still wasn’t enough for him.

When he was about ten yards into the snow, he began to have another coughing fit. He was in pure agony this time, as he had forgotten to take his pain medication that morning. He fell to his knees as blood poured from his mouth, leaving a stark contrast in the snow. Along with his blood, tears flowed down his face. Archons, the pain was unbearable. Pure red petals were scattered all around him, a sign that his disease had gotten to its worst stage.

Dottore didn’t even have the energy to stay balanced, and he fell to his side. Blood still dripped from his mouth as he lay in the snow and let the cold embrace his feverish body. All he could think of was that he could finally rest—forever this time. Just before his eyes began to shut, he caught sight of a figure running towards him, yelling his name.

Oh. It’s [Name]. At least they’ll be the last thing I see before I die.

When you reached him, you dropped to your knees beside him and removed the mask from his face.

"Oh no.. no.. please be okay.. please be alive.." You said frantically.

Dottore looked up at you as you did so, those crimson eyes of his matching the blood that was still dripping from his mouth. Those eyes that were wet with tears that had yet to fall. Likewise, you could feel your own tears dripping down your face.

"Dottore.. please don’t leave me. I love you; I always have. Just hang on for me, okay?" You spoke softly to him, gently stroking his cheek as you wiped away his tears.

Because of your heartfelt words, Dottore’s wretched curse was broken. However, at that point, Dottore was too weak to care that his attempt had failed. All that he cared about was the fact that you shared his feelings. His aching heart had seemingly been revived. You held Dottore closer, embracing him as you cried into his shoulder.

"Please, Dottore. Don’t try anything like this ever again. I’m going to get you the help you need; please just keep holding on."

Dottore had felt as though his existence was worthless, but now he was comforted knowing that it meant something to you. You loved him. That alone gave it purpose. Archons, it felt like a dream. His one reason to keep going had saved his life yet again.

Slowly, Dottore began to speak, "[Name].. I—I love you too.."

You smiled at him, tears still streaming down your face. Gently, you pressed your lips to his, your kiss as soft as a feather. It was at that moment that Dottore truly realized that he would no longer have to struggle alone. You’d be there for him every step of the way to recovery.

His life was finally worth something again.

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minhosimthings · 1 year ago

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Hold me Without Hurting me

Chapter 14: Hibiscus and Holding on

A/N: In which an old friend fills your life with flowers again, along a bumpy sided road.

Pairings: Ceo!Jay × Ceo!fem!reader, includes rest of Enhypen and certain other groups

Warnings: angst-fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to enemies to fake dating to enemies to lovers, Mentions of food and alcohol, swearing, nothing much but it's a bumpy story.

Story prompt: If I had a flower for every time I fell in love with you, I would walk in my garden forever. (This story is based on the language of flowers.)

A/N: Oh my god what! Mona posting two chapters in one day? It's a Christmas miracle. But real guys this is the second last chapter before the big ending and ITS GONNA BE LIT. im gonna go slow with the last chapter, make it as poetic as possible, so that these two idiots finally get a happy (sappy) ending. Also tagging @yunabi436 I hope this keeps her fed for a few days until the last chapter!

SERIES MASTERLIST

Jungwon was never one for relationships and love and all that jazz. Although his mother constantly pestered him to get a wife and give her some grandkids, he never took interest in it. After all, he was young, younger than his boss, whom he had never seen with another man wraped around her arm.

But Park Jay was different.

Although Jungwon didn't know his boss that well, he knew that she was a no nonsense woman who liked to get her job done on time. So when he saw her excitedly narrating her tales of her Jay and her played in the mud and planted flowers, he knew that this was something special, along with Jay's own assistant Kayla of course.

"Promise you'll call?" Kayla said, giving a small peck to Jungwon's cheek. Jungwon smiled down at her frame, and caressed her cheek. "I'll try to get a transfer here, alright?"

"Why is Miss Yang leaving so soon anyway?" Kayla questioned, still holding onto her lover, "I thought Mr Park were the full lovey dovey couple." Jungwon chuckled at his girlfriend's words and shrugged his shoulders. "Don't know much about that." He stated, hearing you call for him, "I love you babe, I'll call you when I get back." With a tight squeeze of her hands and a kiss to her lips, Jungwon scampered away, suitcase in hand, and a sad frown on his face.

"Congratulations Mr Park." A dreary faced man, with an awful moustache have a key to Jay, "You have earned this." Jay's hands trembled as he took the key and opened a mighty metal safe. Everything felt cold, his mother's stare, the lawyer's smirk, the metal of the key and the ringing noise in his ears. The wilted hibiscus in the corner begging for water, reminded him of your cold stare, as he shook hands with all the Ceo's, thanking them for coming to the meetings. Your hands didn't have that touch anymore, that cotton touch reminding him of why he still pestered on with life. And now, you were gone.

"Leave us." Jay commanded to the lawyer, who scampered away like a rat, leaving Jay and his mother alone.

"Why?" Jay slammed his hand on the table, making the old woman clutch her pearls tighter, "Tell me why the fuck you had to drive her away."

"She was ruining you." The woman spoke, her tone high and commanding, "Jay, this is your entire future, you can't risk it all for a girl you fell in love with fifteen years ago."

"I loved her!" Jay shouted, his voice echoing throughout the room, "And you just had to make history repeat, didn't you? Driving me away from her again and again, so that this stupid buisness can thrive." The woman clutched her pearls tighter, furrowing her eyebrows.

"Son, look on the bright side." She sighed, "You can expand the buisness now with these papers!" She looked at all the documents strewn on the table, "You can build an empire, Jay."

Jay had never felt angrier before, as he looked at his mother, greedily eyeing the papers. He would have drunk a snake's venom right now, if it meant having your hand twist in his, if it meant having to see you again, daintily flowing in a mud caked sundress, if it meant telling you, about all the times he had experienced death, thinking about you.

"You know what, mum?" He scoffed, putting the key in his hand down, "You're fired, from now on, you are excused from your position as my Chief of Management. You may leave now."

The old woman let out a pained cry, her face forming something akin to shock. "Jay, sweetheart-" "Leave mother." Jay glared daggers at the woman, "No more excuses from you. My lawyer shall be contacting you in a few days about your position from now on. You're excused."

As the woman got up slowly from her seat, pearls on the verge of breaking from how tightly she was holding them. Her face was a disgusting painting of horror and pain.

"I'll tell you this Jay." She said, before leaving, "Don't come scampering back when that girl ruins your chances of capital."

"Oh I'll take that chance." Jay spat his words with sweet venom laced in between.

He had one last chance.

And he wasn't going to waste it.

"Ma'am?" Jungwon wrapped his head around your door, frowning at the sight which beheld him. Your head was held in your hands, as you stared at all the papers in front of you.

"Yes Jungwon?" You cleared your throat, quickly sitting up straight and wiping the tears from your eyes, "Are those the reports for today?"

Jungwon nodded and sat down on the chair opposite you, an action quite unusual, as he usually just deposited the files and ran away. "Ma'am you need to stop working so hard." Jungwon's lips formed into an adorable pout, "You haven't even eaten a morsel in so many days."

You tried your hardest to smile up at Jungwon, and ran a hand through your hair. "I'm alright Jungwon, just hand me those reports."

"No you're not." Jungwon stated simply, as if to take control of the conversation.

"Ma'am no matter how much you try to distract yourself from Mr Park, it's not going to work, and especially not if you keep drowing yourself in work like this." You were taken aback at his words. What happened to the shy, nervous assistant you had been hanging out with for so long?

"I know I'm not supposed to butt into your personal life, but it is really taking a toll on your health too." Jungwon sighed, "So please, for God's sake, would you go home and rest for once?"

Jungwon's ears had turned hibiscus red by the time he finished with his impromptu speech. The confident mask he had once worn seemed to have deteriorated now, that he was fiddling his fingers and nervously biting his lips.

"I forgot how convincing you can be." You chuckled, easing his nerves a bit, "If I go home and rest for a few days, can I trust you to manage the office, Jungwon?" Jungwon's face lit up and he nodded frantically.

"I will literally do anything for you to go home and rest." He giggled, as you quickly packed up your things with his help.

"Thank you Jungwon." You sighed, as he dropped you off at the entrance of the building, "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The warm touch of the water hit your skin like a blanket enveloping you on Christmas night. When all were asleep, and you just couldn't bring yourself to drowse off, until a boy wrapped you all comfy in his arms, and cradled you to sleep, humming a song into your ear.

You had forgotten how cold the evening was, as you wrapped yourself tightly in your bathrobe, glass of wine all prepared and your cat Perry, lazily dropped on your bed, hid whiskers untamed.

Seven pm, the clock read. Still enough time to make dinner, you thought and relax to watch a sad Disney movie. Maybe you'd watch Up or The Good Dinosaur, you didn't really have a choice.

Outside your window, the winds of Zephyrus, Notus, Boreas and Eurus ran through time like an expatriate, leaving your lips cold and dry, without the touch of someone else's on them. Someone very specific.

The sudden sound of your cat leaping off of the bed, broke you out of your deep thought.

"Why do you sit on my phone, if you know it scares you, you stupid cat?" You rolled your eyes at your cat, who by now, had rested himself on the bedside table, and picked up your phone, which showed Jungwon's caller id.

"Won hey. Is everything alright?" You said, picking up the phone. "Yes ma'am.... And also no ma'am." Jungwon's voice rang in your ear. "What do you mean?"

"Mr Park has just landed in Seoul."

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notsolocalsimp · 1 year ago

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Rotten Ribbons

CHAPTER TWO

Previous chapter

Next chapter

(Y/N) was in their bedroom, going through grief at the devastating events of the day before. There was a hole in their heart that seemed to be sucking all of their happiness away, but they knew they couldn't dwell on that for too long, they had to face reality... and that's when they felt it, their ribbon was continuing to wilt, luckily their boss let them off work to cope with the loss.

It took all of your might to ignore the tears that stung your eyes as they continued ripping themselves apart. The pain in your chest was unbearable, a constant reminder of the void that now existed in your life. Your soulmate was dead, gone, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn't fix it. They wouldn't be coming back.

You sobbed, the sound echoing through the empty room. It felt as if the walls were closing in on you, suffocating you with their weight. The world had lost its color, its vibrancy, and all that remained was an abyss of grief. How could life go on when the one person who was meant to be your anchor was no longer there?

A knock at the door broke the silence, interrupting your thoughts. You sighed, knowing it was probably just a delivery guy wanting your signature or maybe one of your friends stopping by unannounced. It wasn't that surprising. Everything felt trivial now, inconsequential in the grand scheme of your loss.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks and made your way to the door. Each step felt heavy, as if you were trudging through quicksand. Opening the door, you were met with a familiar face, one that brought a mix of comfort and confusion.

"Hey, kid," your boss gave a weak smile, his voice sounding strained, "just wanted to drop off some new paperwork."

You simply nodded, and stepped aside, opening the door further so he could walk in.

He set the stack down on your counter with a sigh, "(Y/N), hope this'll be enough. Don't hesitate to give me a call if you need anything else. I'm sure we can find someone better suited to take your position than me."

With that, he walked out of your apartment with a tired yawn, leaving you alone in the apartment once again.

You sighed, the weight of the world settling heavily on your shoulders. Leaning against your kitchen counter, you surveyed the emptiness that surrounded you. What will you do today? The thought lingered in your mind, taunting you with its open-endedness. There was a part of you that longed to escape the suffocating sadness that filled your home, but the prospect of facing the outside world felt overwhelming. The lingering grief clung to the air like a palpable presence, a constant reminder of the void in your heart that would never be filled.

Determined to find solace within the confines of your apartment, you decided to spend some time cleaning. As you reached for the broom, a cloud of dust rose from the bristles, filling the air with a familiar scent. The smell of dust, of forgotten memories, drifted into your nose, taking you back to simpler times.

You paused for a second, reminiscing about those days when you were young and carefree, playing house with reckless abandon. You would sweep your floors until they were clean, pretending that you were creating a perfect little world where everything was in its right place. It was an escape, a way to forget how lonely you truly were.

But now, as you swept the floor with practiced motions, a bitter realization washed over you. This wasn't a game anymore. You weren't playing house. This was your reality, a hollow shell of a life that had lost its purpose. All hope seemed lost, as if there was no place left for you to go. The weight of your grief threatened to swallow you whole, dragging you down into the depths of despair.

As you continued to sweep, a strange sensation overtook your senses. Though your mind told you not to be irrational, a flicker of something unfamiliar stirred within you. It was almost as if the air around you shifted, carrying a whisper of possibility. Your heartbeat quickened, curiosity mingling with caution.

You set the broom aside, allowing the silence of the room to envelop you. There was something different, something you couldn't quite put into words. The room seemed to hold its breath, waiting for you to uncover the source of this strange sensation. Hesitant yet intrigued, you followed the pull, the invisible thread of destiny leading you forward.

Your steps took you towards the window, your gaze fixated on the world beyond. The once familiar streets now seemed foreign, as if they held secrets waiting to be unraveled. The city was alive, bustling with activity, and yet you felt like an outsider looking in. It was a paradoxical existence, feeling so detached from the world that continued to move forward, oblivious to your pain.

And then, as if in response to your unspoken yearning, a soft breeze brushed against your cheek, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers. The petals of hope unfurled within you, a fragile yet resilient bloom that refused to be snuffed out by the darkness. The room seemed to brighten, the heaviness in your chest lifting ever so slightly.

In that moment, you made a silent vow to yourself. You would honor your soulmate's memory, their love, and the essence they left behind. You would not allow their loss to define you, to consume you. Instead, you would let their spirit guide you towards a life filled with love and resilience. You would learn to live again, to find purpose amidst the wreckage of your heart.

With newfound determination, you left the broom behind, knowing that the cleaning could wait. Today, you would step outside, breathe in the scent of the world, and embrace the unknown. The journey ahead would be arduous, filled with twists and turns, but you were ready to face it head-on. The ribbon of fate, though wilted, still held the promise of a future yet to be written.

And as you stepped out of your apartment, a glimmer of hope ignited within you, illuminating the path that lay before you. The journey towards healing had begun, and with each step, you would reclaim your strength, your purpose, and your capacity to love.

#ao3 #fanfic #aizawa x reader #aizawa x y/n #mha aizawa #bnha aizawa #mha #bnha #writing #writers on tumblr

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blacklodgemusictx · 2 years ago

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Viva “Violensia”! New Jesse Daniel Edwards Album Out Now

(personal narrative starts here… skip if you only want to hear about the album)

Everyone should have a facilitator – someone in your corner to tell you the things you dream about – the crazy to the mundane- are not that far out of reach.

I’ve had many facilitators. I’ve tried, in turn, to fill that need for my friends.

This time it was my husband.

I wasn’t even trying. We JUST went on the mini tour with Salim. My needs should have been sated for awhile yet.

Doug, I sigh. Doug, Jesse’s album dropped the same day as Salim’s – June 23rd. His album release show is 06/30/23. It’s a Friday… 800+ miles away. We were JUST in Nashville for The Church and it was… expensive (we flew.)

Doug doesn’t even blink. Ask for it, tell your boss you’ll get your Friday work done early. We’ll drive it.

This feeling. Right here. If I could bottle… I love being surprised and this was joyful. I had *no* idea I could even hope for this and POOF there it is. A reasonable plan to accomplish this most primal of needs: to be front and center for music I love.

I get all my work done. I don’t hear from my boss about my leave. I pack anyway. I rage (quietly as is my way). I am a GOOD EMPLOYEE. I’ve only called in sick twice in the last three years and that was for COVID. Righteous indignation flows from every fiber of my being. I am about to get real ‘sick’. Uh huh. Don’t mess with me.

The long and short is they missed my request. It’s fine. I got Friday’s work done on Thursday. And just like that, Cinderella is allowed to go to the ball.

I log off my computer, car already packed, Doug awaits to whisk me off on the first leg of our journey. 6+ hrs gets us to Arkadelphia (“… freedom! Shine the light…”) The rest of the journey puts us in Nashville at 2ish. We sleep. Like the dead.

Awake.

Clean up. Get presentable. The venue website says, “Dress to impress” (it also likens itself to the Viper Room, but I would say only a 21st century Viper Room with Yelp reviews to contend with. A Viper Room genuinely concerned with both the use of coasters and Your Good Time.) It’s hard to “bring it” any harder than we do normally on a show night, but we try. I wear make up (never a guarantee) and Doug picks the spiffiest paisley shirt he brought.

The venue – The Eighth Room – has PARKING… A limited amount, but… (angelic singing) PARKINNNNNGGGG… regardless.

The side of the building sports artful “grafitti” – Rockstars live here. Good. We’re home then, I joke.

The Kraken tentacle door pull… is locked. I look up. There’s a camera. Please, Mr Eye in The Sky… please let us in…it’s hot. There’s a click. We walk in… and are immediately told things aren’t ready yet. Ok, I’m going to stand right here and not be in anyone’s way while being 2 degrees cooler than I was out there. Ok?

Not ok.

We are shuffled back outside.

Uh, why did you unlock the door then? They remedy this by locking it behind us.

We steam gently on the pavement for an interminable length of time. I start to wilt… sadness… I wore makeup on purpose for this.

*CLICK*

We are allowed back in!!! All is forgiven. The inside is dark and cold and… oh sweet Saint of Achy Joints and Bad Backs… there is a COUCH. I sink deliciously in to it and experience something rarely afforded me at shows: comfort.

I order a Diet Coke (psttt… use of coasters… that was foreshadowing) that I sip while goggling at my surroundings. There are statues with painted sayings emblazoned on them (“No more fake friends.”) Mirrors. Every surface is a different pattern, but it all works together. There is a stage directly in front of us hung with crushed velvet curtains.

There’s a fleeting pang in my chest. Had our business situation not prematurely folded last Summer, this is the type of space I would have wanted our venue to be.

I set the Diet Coke on the glass top table behind me and reach for what I thought might be a menu — later, a ghost appears unnoticed and places a folded napkin under my drink to catch the condensation. I am completely oblivious. Instead of a list of cocktails and nibbles, I’m looking at a program! Like this is a graduation or a kid’s school play.

I love it.

Under a tentative set list, I see this. No attribution (but he told me just now as I write this that yes, he and the others in the band wrote it). But this is why I am here… I’m tearing up again just reading it.

Artist’s Manifesto:

“We do so aim to create a beautiful noise to the best of our ability, an reckoning. We speak our simple truth, without falsehood. Let our words never be amended, censored, or appeased. Our concerns lie not the realm of the material or the monetary, but rather the spiritual and the poetical. For the benefit, not merely the entertainment, of all living creatures, the plants, the air, the soil, the water, and the sky.”

How many of these programs just got wadded up and thrown away that night? That is easily one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen … did anyone else even read it?

Showtime:

There’s Landon [Pigg]. If you’ve seen Jesse at all recently, you’ve seen Landon. I tried to research when the relationship began and the answer seems to be the end of last year (2022). For lack of more information, I’m going to create a scenario from the one bit I did manage to find about the relationship being borne of an appreciation of “red wine and music”… or something like that. Something half childhood playground interaction where it really was as easy as just asking, “Wanna be friends?” and the scene in Stepbrothers, “Did we just become… BEST. FRIENDS?”

Landon is all button-down shirt earnest. I love the quote in the program, “Landon is a young man on a soul quest. In a word, he is ‘nimble.’ His upper range engages birds and the more tuneful of dogs. Down, Scruffy, down girl!” A playful jab at the attractive nature of the earnest boy charming the birds down from the trees. His voice is beautiful. His songs are sweet and wistful. Though he seems to spend his time with Jesse on the percussive side (shaker, maracas, tambourine, bongos), he seems an adept multi-instrumentalist in his own right, moving comfortably between keys and guitar.

At some point, it starts to rain. It doesn’t even sound real at first. It sounds like rain sticks I used to see (don’t touch!) at the mall when I was a kid.

Beautiful.

I return to a lyric for what I’m sure won’t be the last time. From Occasionally Joy, “My wardrobe can’t make up its mind…” I’ve already amended my list of Jesse’s outfit personas once. I’m thrown a new one tonight. Jeans, white tank, and… Castiel help us… a trench coat. Tonight he looks like The Highlander (“there can be ONLY ONE!”) and I am living for it.

Just like my time spent Salim last weekend, Jesse with a band is a completely new experience from his quiet, unassuming performances spied thus far. I had a basic idea from videos watched online. It was completely different seeing it live.

Jesse is a man possessed. The demon-spirit is music. The Rock. I verify in my photos later – he’s not even aware at times. He is transported. Slave and master. Dominance and submission. Complete thrall to the sounds he wrestles from his guitar. He throws himself to the ground. “Haven’t the monkeys…” Writhes. “Done such…” Submits to the music while his guitar submits to him. “Lovely job…”

What we got:

Power of Us, The Future’s Been Canceled, The Last Time I Saw Nancy Claire (She Wasn’t Really There), Haven’t the Monkeys Done Such a Lovely Job, Feed Her to the Snake, Ads You Can Really Taste, I’m So Happy (I Think I Might Cry)*, Biting off The Hand that Feeds, Drop Dead and Die*, The Dream Where You Can’t Wake Up*, Everybody’s Got Somebody (Nobody’s Got Me)*, Backyard Party MDA*

(*from Violensia)

MDA was a delightful finale as everyone got up – lead by Landon who boasts some wicked rug cutting capability – and started dancing. It was fun to watch. Happiness like that is catching. A high note to end on for sure.

(READ HERE IF YOU SKIPPED PERSONAL NARRATIVE TO GET TO THE ALBUM STUFF)

Here is your Violensia sound bite:

“This album is SO GOOD it made me FLIP TABLES at my local mall food court. Buy it NOW!” — Someone With a Valuable Opinion (me, it’s me, I have a valuable opinion)

Back to my POV:

The show was amazing. We ended up rocking out next to a kind, older gentleman who was later revealed to be the Pigg Patriarch (or Father Pigg as he is now in my phone). He was delighted to meet us and hear of our long trek to see Jesse and his sons (Gabe, the drummer, belongs to Clan Pigg too). He even asked me what the draw was. It’s taken me time to realize why some of his music is so comfortable, so familiar to me.

Jesse said of the Violensia songs, “They are just so weird and dramatic and operatic…”

I showed Papa Pigg the tattoo that takes up a good portion of my right shin. Another young man with sculpted cheekbones and a flare for the “weird and dramatic and operatic.” Dad gets it. He says he already thought that with Jesse’s choice of white tank top tonight.

There can be only one…

Landon talks to us for a bit. He talks again about the stickers I gifted him with when I saw them in May. They were AI generated and then manipulated in Procreate. One is a guinea pig in front of a foamy cappuccino and the other is an anthropomorphized guinea pig playing a guitar. I was mildly terrified giving them to him. Afraid perhaps, like me, his name got him bullied in school, but no, he seemed delighted. Neither he nor Jesse seem to have much merch (I do stickers for Salim as a freebie at his merch table “Do you have room in your life for stickers?” He will ask people while they browse his offerings). Landon agrees they don’t have much merch usually, but he then tells me that his Mom has framed the stickers (I don’t know if I got this right, but I immediately see them placed over a mantle piece, something Mother Pigg has given pride of place to, she gazes fondly at them when she thinks of her boy, the singer… And oh YES in this imagining they are a family of Pixar animated guinea pigs ready to star in “Sing 3.” Please don’t begrudge me my happy mind movies.)

I pause… I think for a minute… trying to write this.

I don’t know what I am trying to express to you, the collective you.

I know there are people out there who feel like I do. People who don’t have a drug yet to keep them going. I’m just trying to show you mine. There’s a scene in the 1990 “It” where the little kid with asthma has it revealed to him that his medicine is just water. “If you need it, ” his friends tell him, “It’s good medicine.”

I’ll never write something that will single handedly drive up anyone’s album sales (but per the above Manifesto, it’s not even about that… this makes me feel better.) I’m just trying to show you out there in the darkness with me that there are lights, there are drugs – whatever they mean to you – there are things to keep going for.

There is beauty.

My favorite song from Violensia is “Dream Where You Can’t Wake up” (complete aside: I’m either psychic or the Gods of People Afraid to Fly unlocked Violensia for me months ago so I could listen to it on a flight recently while trying not think about crashing .. when I could finally listen to it officially, I knew EXACTLY how this entire song went):

“Tomorrow’s gonna come, the sun is gonna shine, shine on everyone…tomorrow’s gonna come blue skies are gonna hang far above everyone…”

And now I’m really dating myself. Just like Curly said in “City Slickers,” the answer is one thing.. ONE… but you have to figure out what that one thing is.

For me, it’s the hope I hear in these songs, Salim, Jesse, YOU out there making music because it’s what your soul needs to survive.

I’m not alone. There is something beautiful to look for. And when the darkness starts to creep back in, I will search for my next “hit” and the artists in the above manifesto will be out there ready to provide.

“To every broken heart that came before… I’m gonna be just fine…”

TLDR:

Jesse Daniel Edwards is an amazing artist. His new album is called “Violensia.” YOU WANT IT. It’s on Spotify, but vote with your dollars: HERE.

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bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky · 2 years ago

Text

The Eras | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a short, silly little thing about the Ticketmaster fiasco the other day. If you were in that queue all day, I feel your pain. Seven hours of queuing for Houston. I know this fic is niche but I simply do not care <3 also, lemme know if you got tickets! And what you plan to wear to the show!

What’s your favorite track from Midnights?

Warnings: Ticketmaster

“Any luck?” Bucky asked on the other end of the phone.

“Nope… still two thousand plus people ahead of me.” You poked at your sad lunch salad with your plastic fork, eyes glued to your laptop. “At least my boss is trying to get tickets too, that way I won’t get in trouble for getting nothing done today.”

Bucky let out a loud laugh, “I love that for you. And your boss. Is there-”

“It’s PAUSED?” you nearly threw your lunch across the room. “The queue is PAUSED!”

Bucky wasn’t accustomed to this new way of doing things. If he wanted to go to a show back in his day, he simply bought tickets at the venue. But this was a whole new beast. You had a plan, a strategy. The group text with Wanda and Nat fired constantly in the days leading up to the presale, turning your phone into a war room.

“What? Why is it paused?”

“It says it ‘should be back up and running shortly’,” you sighed, “and that to keep my place in line, I can’t refresh or close my browser.” The disappointed groan that pushed its way out of your throat broke Bucky’s heart. He heard you clicking and typing on the other end of the line, no doubt conferring with the group text.

“This kind of seems like a disaster…” He didn’t want to make things any worse than they already were, but he hated when you were upset. You’d looked forward to this- gotten your presale code, received boosts. And yet, you sat in a paused queue with no end in sight.

“Oh, it is. Ticketmaster is the worst.” You gave a harsh stab with your plastic fork and speared a piece of romaine, punctuating your sentence. “It’s owned by this company Live Nation- it’s basically a monopoly.”

“But you’re guaranteed tickets, right?” he asked, sounding almost on edge. “Cause you got the code thingy? That’s how this works, right? The code ensures that you get the tickets?”

“Nope. That’s just to get into the presale, but they don’t require a code to get in the queue, so… I’m not sure there’s even a point to those codes.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the inefficient and deeply flawed system. “Oh. That’s… really annoying. And confusing. They should explain the rules better.”

You gave him a laugh, “yeah, well, all they care about is making money.”

Bucky could practically see you- sitting at your desk, shoulders slumped, lunch half eaten, computer stuck in a paused queue. “I’m sorry, doll.”

You made a few more stabs at your wilted lettuce before giving it up all together. “And apparently ticket prices are nuts. Like, floor seats are selling for over a thousand dollars. My friend got seats in section C for the Dallas show, and he paid a thousand and twenty-eight dollars for each of them.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Yeah…” you let out a sigh. “I’m so disappointed. I mean, I saw on Twitter that even nosebleeds are in the two-fifty range now. I know there’s way worse things in the world, but I was really looking forward to this- I’ve been saving for such a long time. I thought I was gonna get to see her in person, you know?” Bucky could hear the frown in your voice. “But between the queue and the prices, I just don’t think it’s gonna happen.”

“You never know, doll,” Bucky did his best to lighten the mood. “Don’t give up. Just keep the queue open on your computer and try to focus on other things, okay?”

You agreed to his terms and the two of you hung up, leaving you alone with your Ticketmaster nightmare.

That evening, Bucky waited by the door for you to come home. He stood so close, in fact, that you almost hit him with it. “Hey, baby! How was your day?” He was nearly vibrating with a strange energy you’d never seen from him before.

“It was terrible…” you sighed. “I was in the queue for seven hours. And when I finally got to the presale, tickets were unfathomably expensive. Even if I could afford them, every seat I picked disappeared. I got constant error notices and never even got one single ticket into my cart. It sucked.”

Bucky gave you a tight squeeze, so tight you could hardly breathe. “That’s terrible, doll. I’m so sorry you didn’t get tickets…” He released you suddenly, allowing your chest to expand. “But I’m actually glad you didn’t buy any.”

His words came as a surprise. He was always supportive, no matter how silly your venture. He knew how badly you wanted to go to the concert- why he celebrated your defeat was unknown.

“Oh. That’s…. ouch, Buck. I know I’m kind of annoying about how much I love her music, but-”

“No, no- I’m happy you didn’t get any,” he said, “because I got them for you.”

His words didn’t register. You stared at him, mouth agape, as the gears in your mind spun into overdrive. “I don’t… what? How?”

“He might be an ass, but Tony’s good for some stuff,” Bucky laughed. “I asked him to help me- and he said no. We both know he hates my guts. But when I said it was for you, he immediately agreed.”

“You asked Tony?” Bucky didn’t speak to Tony. Ever. Not since Siberia. But he’d broken his sworn vow against Tony. Just for you.

Bucky retrieved his laptop from the kitchen table, “I signed up last week just in case you didn’t get verified. But you did… and then I got a text late last night with a presale code. So, I thought I’d hop on the presale too just in case you couldn’t get tickets.” He turned the computer your way and showed you the screen, “according to this, my account is still stuck in the queue…”

You eyed the screen and saw the long line you stared at all day, “but if you’re still in the queue, how did you-”

Bucky scoffed, “Ticketmaster is no match for Stark tech, sweetheart. Tony found a way around the queue, grabbed three floor seats, and got outta there. Used some of that Iron Man money for good.” He shut the computer and tucked it under his arm, “and now, there are three floor seats linked to your account. You got the VIP package, preferred parking- all the bells and whistles.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Oh, and Stark told me to tell you…” he opened his computer once again and found an email from Tony. “And I quote: You’re too good for this idiot, but at least he’s resourceful. Have a great time at the show, kid.”

You launched yourself into Bucky’s arms, almost sending his laptop clattering to the floor. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Oh my god, Buck. You’re amazing- you’re the best!”

Bucky, always humble, did his best to duck your praises. “Well, Tony’s the one who got ‘em. I just called him and-”

“But it was your idea! And you entered for the presale just in case- you sat in the queue all day!”

Bucky’s cheeks turned a rosy shade of pink. “I just wanted you to see your girl. I know Taylor’s you’re favorite.”

“No, you’re my favorite,” you said, dropping a deep kiss to his lips. “Oh- I have to call Wanda! And Nat! And- wait, you didn’t ask Tony to get a ticket for you?”

Bucky shook his head, “Doll, this is your thing with your friends. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep an eye on me all night; I want you to give all your attention to Taylor-” He laughed his own words, “as though I have to tell you to give her your attention.”

He dotted kisses all over your face and chuckled as you thanked him time and time again. “You’re more than welcome. All I ever want is for you to be happy, sweetheart. Go call your friends and let ‘em know.”

You rifled through your bag and found your phone, an unstoppable smile plastered across your face all the while. But before you could run off to tell Nat and Wanda the good news, you took Bucky’s face in your hands.

“Just so you know, Buck, this is the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. I mean, getting the tickets is amazing. But signing up for the code just in case, sitting in the queue for me- you’re so sweet.” He blushed once again, still not used to your praise. “And obviously, it helps that you were able to get me floor seats, but I’d be just as appreciative if I came home to no tickets. Cause floor seats or no floor seats, you’re all I want.”

“Well I guess you’re lucky then,” he laughed, “cause you got me and floor seats.”

“Truly, what else could a girl want?” you asked.

“Backstage passes?”

“Yeah, you know I was incredibly grateful and touched that you did this for me-” you joked. “But no backstage passes? Lame.”

Bucky rolled his eyes at you and swatted you on the ass, banishing you to go call your friends.

He’d done a lot of bad in his life. Even if it wasn’t his fault, he’d hurt people. But knowing that he’d done something so meaningful for you eased his mind.

All he wanted for the rest of his days was to see you smile like that. He didn’t care if he had to team up with Tony every week and get you exorbitantly priced concert tickets- he’d do it. He’d do anything for you.

————————————-

Tag list: @beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy @mrsdrysdale18 @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl l @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @duchessoftheheart @seitmai @itvy5601 @hisxsoulmate @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine @masteroflightningz @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural @rassvetsky

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luminari-mc · 3 years ago

Note

Can i request “I’m not leaving. Ever.” with leviathan and gn mc

Red Alert! Emotional Support Demon Required

Prompt: “I’m not leaving. Ever.”

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Pairing: Gn!MC/Reader x Leviathan

Summary: You and Levi were supposed to do an anime marathon tonight, but for some reason, you never show up at his room.

Warnings: Feelings of depression.

A/N: I recently played further into season 3 and absolutely loved Leviathan in it (I didn't even know it was possible to love him more!). I wanted to write something that shows that sometimes, this shy bean of a demon knows what to do when his Henry is feeling down.

___________________________________________

He had been waiting for this day for weeks.

Ever since the release date of I Thought I'd Like Working As A Butler, But My Boss Turned Out To Be My Best Friend, And Now I'm Feeling Super Conflicted But Also Kind Of Into It So Please Send Help? had been confirmed on the forums, Levi had planned out the biggest marathon for newly released animes for the both of you. First, he had brought enough sodas and snacks to last the entire night. Second, he had made an entire list of the animes you and him were going to watch in order from most hyped and talked about, and finally, you two would be reviewing your favorites and talk more in depth about your favorite stories, characters and plot points! He just couldn't wait- this was going to be so cool!

Except that, as the time of your meeting in his room approached more and more, Levi grew anxious. He started shifting in his seat on the floor, the countdown for the first episode on his TV's screen kept dropping and yet, you still weren't sitted by his side. The broadcast was about to start, but there was no way he'd let you miss out on the first few seconds, whatever the reason for your absence was. And so the demon got up from his seat on the floor, and left the comfort of his room to walk to your own.

Levi's knocks were weak against your door, before the demon shyly cracked it open to peek inside your bedroom. "M-MC..?"

Your room was entirely plunged into darkness, save for the tree's dim lights, much to Levi's surprise who was expecting to perhaps see you in the middle of preparing yourself to go meet him in his room. With hesitation, he pushed the door to step inside, looking around the room as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.

"MC? Are you in there...?" He looked around, a bit worried. You hadn't gone out with one of his brothers since dinner and ditched him, right?

His tensed expression was however quickly eased upon seeing your frame laid down in bed, hidden by your thick blanket. You were facing the wall, so he couldn't tell if you had accidentally fallen asleep or not- something that was harder to tell given how silent you were despite his presence in your room.

"Y-You awake? Working As A Butler is going to start soon..." Levi approached the bed with timid steps, tilting his head to the side as he awaited an answer from you while fiddling with his fingers.

"Oh..." A weak sound of surprise fell out of your lips. "Sorry Levi, I... I'm not feeling very good right now. I don't think I can watch anime with you tonight."

Levi's hopes were crushed in an instant, as his mouth hung open in disbelief.

"Wh-What? But... why?! We planned everything out together, and you even said this morning how excited you were to see it. I don't understand..."

Levi's worries quickly turned against him like sharp knives. "Did-- Did I do something wrong?"

"It's not you, I just..." He watched as you brought the blanket above your shoulder. "I'm just feeling... really down. I don't know why, it's just... one of those days."

"Oh..." His eyes wandered around the room aimlessly, trying to think of something to say. He perfectly knew what it was like to have the blues for no reason whatsoever, but he'd be lying if seeing you in this state didn't hurt him.

"Sorry Levi." You hid yourself even more with the blanket. "Could you maybe leave-"

"I-I don't want you to be alone." He exclaimed through wobbly lips, his cheeks turning pink as he took a step closer to the bed. He knew too well what it was like, keeping to yourself and let the bad thoughts rot inside your brain. But as much as he had a tendency to do that to himself, he wasn't about to let you experience the same.

"I'm sad too sometimes, and in those moments, I know it's best to have someone with you to... share the pain."

He marked a pause, your figure keeping still in the bed, with no reaction to his words. Levi gulped, and as if his body had grown a conscience of its own, he placed a knee on the mattress before laying down near you, wrapping an arm around you. Even with the thickness of the covers, you were able to sense the warmth of his chest against your back. This attention- it only urged the tears you had fought against to show up even more.

"Levi, please, I'm fine, you can just go-"

"N-No!" Levi closed his eyes shut, his face red hot from how bold he was being. "Y-You're always there for me when I'm being harsh on myself, always dealing with my rantings even though I'm a shut-in who's only found one true friend in his life. So n-no, I won't let my best friend be sad and alone in the dark." He hugged your frame tighter, planting his face against your back as his tone softened.

"I'm not leaving. Ever."

Levi kept still, the color of his cheeks unchanging as he suddenly felt your hand pulling out from under the covers, to place itself on his own. As he heard you silently sniffling, your shoulders starting to tremble against him, he had to admit how glad he was that he couldn't see your face right now. Otherwise, it probably would have made him cry, too.

"I'll stay here until you're not sad anymore, okay?" He offered. You squeezed his hand a bit more as a response.

"What about the anime... ?"

Levi closed his eyes as he shook his head, ever so glad he could be there to shield you against the darkness of your thoughts.

"It can wait. You'll always be more important anyway."

___________________________________________

Taglist: @the-wilted-amaryllis, @amistytown (to be added to the general taglist, send me a DM, an ask, or reply to this post!)

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blouisparadise · 3 years ago

Photo

We frequently get asked what our members favorite fics are, so for today’s rec list, we asked each member of BLP to choose FIVE favorite fics for this list - no repeats allowed. Please keep in mind that this is not a complete list of our favorites - there are so many amazing BL fics out there that we all have a lot more than this! Still, we hope you enjoy. Happy reading!

1) Take Off Your Business Suit | Explicit | 3082 words

“Yes, let me get another chair.” Louis said, leaning up off of the desk. He stood up but before he could leave the office to get another chair, Harry was grabbing his hand.

The words that came out of Harry’s mouth made Louis’ knees weak and heart beat quicken. “Just sit on my lap.” Harry said. Whatever he said afterwards didn’t make it into Louis’ ears as he was moving quickly over to Harry and placing himself on Harry’s lap.

Louis would take anything Harry wanted to give him; hand touching, lap sitting, all of it. Louis hadn't realized he was holding his breath until it came out in a quiet sigh. “Okay so th-this one will be slightly different right?” He asked as he pointed at the sheet of paper in front of him.

2) Quietly Our Hearts Beat | Explicit | 7539 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis and Harry in the universe of ‘A Quiet Place’.

3) A Love Reaction | Explicit | 9968 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Louis’s staring up at him, head tilted slightly back, and his blue eyes are glassy, locked with Harry’s in an unblinking and gentle gaze. He looks ready to do whatever Harry says, to please him whatever way.

4) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

5) No Good Unless It’s Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

6) A Springtime’s Wilt, An Autumn’s Bloom | Explicit | 20593 words

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

7) Ready To Fall | Explicit | 21220 words

“Ninety and rising,” Nick says triumphantly, as though making Harry’s heartbeat pick up by thrusting an obscenely attractive person in front of his face is any kind of success. “Louis Tomlinson has just walked into our control room and suddenly our dear Harry Styles has lost all ability to speak. Could this be some kind of strange coincidence?”

“I hate you,” Harry hisses, forcing his eyes back into Nick’s direction, uncaring that the mic must have picked it up. “I thought we agreed that you were going to play fair.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nick denies, except he’s holding up a picture of Louis’ face now, sharp cheekbones prominent, soft lashes nearly sweeping against his cheeks as he looks down, and his fucking mouth –

“A hundred and two!” Nick crows, all but clapping his hands together in glee. “The highest it’s ever been!”

“To be fair, I did bend over the desk on purpose,” Louis’ voice comes crackling in the headphones. Harry practically breaks his neck whipping his head around at the sound of it, gaping at him through the glass panel. “You can’t really blame him for getting a little excited about that, can you?”

8) Written In The Stars (That’s You And Me) | Explicit | 22632 words

Louis pushes himself up on one elbow and stretches enough to just barely trace his fingertips over Harry’s jawline. Harry’s eyes drop to track his movements as he does it again. “D’you feel that?” he whispers.

To him, it feels like all of the universe’s magic lives just beneath his skin when he touches Harry with intent. It feels like something special. Louis watches Harry’s lips part and wants to touch that too. He almost does, but then Harry shakes his head. “Feel what?”

9) Middle Ground | Explicit | 23561 words

Note: This fic is locked and can only be read by AO3 users.

Harry moves to a new town for work where he meets the enigma that is Louis Tomlinson.

10) England Has My Bones | Explicit | 24087 words

The next time Harry thinks about calling, it’s 4.14 in the morning on a Parisian hotel balcony.

11) Like A Siren In The Night | Explicit | 24868 words

“There is an infestation in my home,” Louis hisses, righting himself quickly and pushing his way past Harry, heading directly for the kitchen. He’s rather haphazardly dressed himself, a coat thrown on over a loose flannel shirt and black pants, slippers on his feet.

Harry resists the urge to sigh, closing the door and trailing behind him slowly. “What kind of infestation?”

For all he knows, Louis is going to claim that there’s a ghost infestation. Harry has no idea what the end game is here – all he knows is that Louis has found at least three complaints a week to bring up since he’s been living on Harry’s property, and he’s been living here for six months.

It’s way too many fucking complaints, is what Harry is saying. Especially when most of them are ridiculous to start with.

12) Hold Onto This Heaven (Of Yours) | Explicit | 25213 words

An ode to being too young, too sad, and too in love.

13) The Devil’s In The Details | Explicit | 25372 words

He squeals when Harry smacks his bum as he bends over to pick up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder. Harry smiles smugly at him, bottom lip caught between his teeth. “When are you going to start calling me professor?” He asks.

“When you actually are one,” Louis says with his hand on the doorknob. He cocks his head to the side in curiosity. “Isn’t that how words work? You did study English, right?”

Louis’ quick to slip out the door before Harry can smack him again, his laugh echoing through the hallways as he makes his way to his next class with flushed cheeks and a bright smile.

14) A Trail Of Honey Through It All | Explicit | 27086 words

The boy in front of him, well really, the man in front of him, was like something out of a confusing wet dream. Built, tall, tan and muscular, his skin glistened with sweat after a long day of working outdoors with his hands. He was wearing a cut up old American football shirt, the bottom hem was torn and the sleeves were cut off to the point where the t-shirt was really just a loose tank top. The shorts he had on had clearly been full length jeans at one point, and were now just crudely cut off above the knee. His white socks were pulled up too high on his calves, and the brown work boots he had on were old as fuck, the leather peeling along the edges of the soles. Curly brown hair stuck out from the edges of his backwards snapback, and there was a smudge of grease wiped along his brow bone. The smattering of hair along his jaw proved that he hadn’t shaved in a week or two, the hair growing in thicker across his upper lip and around his chin. His sinfully bowed mouth was pink and plump, and Louis was suddenly hyper-focused on the way that he chewed at the toothpick stuck between his lips. He looked like he needed a shower. Louis wanted to lick him.

15) You Fit In My Poems (Like A Perfect Rhyme) | Explicit | 27598 words

The one where Harry works in an old bookshop and Louis is the pretty stranger that ends up stranded there in the middle of a storm.

16) Where The Lights Are Beautiful | Mature | 31170 words | Sequel

The accidental bonding A/B/O fic.

17) Once Upon A Dream | Explicit | 33319 words | Sequel

Louis is psychic and gets caught in the middle of a murder investigation led by FBI Special Agent Harry Styles.

18) Stuck On You | Explicit | 33983 words

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

19) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

20) What This World Is About | Explicit | 34472 words

An eighties American high school AU; there are first times, football games, and feelings.

Alternatively titled: the beginning.

21) Close To Nowhere | Explicit | 34589 words

Louis and Harry are psychics who kind of hate each other. They go to Tennessee to investigate a haunting.

22) Before We Knew | Explicit | 39830 words

Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed onto his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

23) The Space Between | Explicit | 39917 words

Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why.

Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

24) The Sweetest Incantation | Explicit | 40580 words

Harry is a witch who's still working on developing his powers and Louis is a werecat who falls into his life and turns it upside down.

25) Worth Dying For | Explicit | 44906 words

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Louis says, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest. In the center of the table, a set of three glossy photos stares up at him, mocking him.

“A security detail is non-negotiable, Louis, you know this,” his mum reminds him, tapping the middle photo with two fingers.

Louis doesn’t look back down at the pictures, gesturing towards them wildly, over-dramatically. “This is not a security detail!” he protests. “This is a lanky college student. In what world do you hire someone like this kid to protect me?”

26) Tastes Like Summer, Smiles Like May | Explicit | 47519 words

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

27) Love’s Truest Language | Explicit | 48195 words

The first part was meant as a joke. He didn't really expect Harry to buy anything. It was just Louis’ way of softening the ‘get the fuck out’ blow.

“Where's your order forms, then?”

“I don't want your flowers.” Louis chided before directing all of his attention to the arrangement in front of him.

Harry laughed under his breath as he stood to his full height, “Who said anything about them being for you, love?”

28) Through The Wheatfields And The Coastlines | Explicit | 52855 words

The one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

29) Latibule | Mature | 54322 words

A Spirited Away AU of sorts where Louis just wants to heal and be left alone, only for all his plans to be destroyed by the hands of an infuriating British God.

30) Warming Up To You | Explicit | 56227 words

Prompt 111: Louis and Harry are strangers that somehow got stranded during a blizzard. They find themselves in an abandoned cabin and have to cuddle for warmth. Cuddling leads to much more.

31) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this.

32) Curly Bun Man | Not Rated | 68597 words

I just paid for these Doritos but they're stuck in the vending machine and I know you've been waiting but I am not going to let you buy something until you help me. AU.

33) Waiting On You | Explicit | 76584 words | Sequel

“Vampires,” Louis says with disgust, glaring over at the vampire who is noisily slurping from the woman’s neck nearby.

Zayn gives the neat fang marks on Louis’ neck a meaningful look.

“Can’t live with them, can’t live without them,” Louis finishes, ignoring Zayn when he rolls his eyes.

Louis takes a long sip of his milkshake, presses his fingers against the marks on his neck, and definitely doesn’t think about the vampire who left them there.

34) Through Struggles, To The Stars | Explicit | 80582 words

Louis is a Starfleet captain trying to find his place in the universe. Harry is a prince just trying to do what's right.

35) I Want You So Much (But I Hate Your Guts) | Mature | 83648 words

AU in which Louis gets accepted to play for the Manchester University Alpha-Beta Football Team. The only problem: Louis is actually an Omega. He is determined to make it big in the football world, though, and he can't do that bound to an Omega team. With the help of a faked doctor's certificate and some pretty strong suppressants he is ready to fight for his dream.

That Harry Styles (Alpha, second year and youngest football captain of the A-B team in ages) doesn't seem to like him complicates matters, though.

36) Where You Lay | Explicit | 86038 words

When Louis's upcoming heat threatens his success at his new dream job, he asks the best (and only) person he can think of to help him through it: his best mates' best mate, Harry Styles. Harry reluctantly accepts, and together the two navigate a strange friends with benefits relationship that quickly turns complicated.

37) And Down The Long And Silent Street | Mature | 86090 words

Wherein Louis and Harry are on the opposite ends of the social ladder, but their paths still cross on the filthy streets Louis calls his home. The odds are staked against them from the beginning, and even more when Louis' past finally catches up with him.

38) Swim In The Smoke | Explicit | 101778 words

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

39) The Galaxy’s Edge | Explicit | 113921 words

Things never quite go as they are planned during a simple rescue job.

40) Tainted Saints And Velvet Vices | Explicit | 126057 words | Sequel (WIP)

A self-fulfilling Hogwarts AU in which Louis is new to seventh year and Harry is the resident devil-may-care Slytherin set to make his entire experience a living misery. Due to less than favourable circumstances they're forced to forge an unwilling, tentative relationship for their own survival. Repressed emotions, decidedly unromantic ballroom dancing, Triwizard Tournament tasks, creative jinxes and twilight flying above the Forbidden Forest ensue.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

#fic recs #blp fic recs #bottom louis #top harry #larry

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b000mbayah · 3 years ago

Note

Mafia Itzy reaction to s/o being scared of them??

Sure thing anon, feel free to request more if you want

Warnings: mentions of guns?

. . . Wʜʏ . . . ᡕᠵ᠊ᡃ່࡚ࠢ࠘ ⸝່ࠡࠣ᠊߯᠆ࠣ࠘ᡁࠣ࠘᠊᠊ࠢ࠘𐡏 . . . ғᴇᴀʀ . . . ᴍᴇ . . . ? . . .

Yeji

You? Afraid of her? It seems like a joke, but it was the sad reality of her life. That someone she loves dearly and respects more than anyone else thinks of her as a threat.

To be on the honest side of all things, Yeji is a massive threat. Being this close to one of the biggest, if not the biggest, mafia bosses of all time was like walking through a school with a "kick me" sign on your back.

Everyone knew of you, anyone could do anything to you knowing this information, but most chose not to in fear for themselves.

This is undeniably unexceptional, Yeji would feel horrible about herself, but wouldn't show it to anyone, not even herself.

So many doubts about herself and her occupation would be running marathons inside her head all day, but she can't do anything about it. This is her job, her family, her safe space.

The people before her had brought her up as one of their own and now she needs to do them proud, she needs to be roofless… even if it means having you fear her.

Lia

Her massive heart can't take it. Having you being scared of her was tearing her apart more than she'd like to admit.

Lia needs to stay cold, strong.. out of love.. emotionless… it's just too much, how is Lia supposed to follow her own regulations when you're around her, scared and helpless.

She needs to go against her set rules to show you her affection so you'd learn to feel comfortable around her once again.

Lia couldn't care, she could be putting both her and your lives on the line, but it would be worth it for it will be worth your comfort and confidence around her once again.

She'd be buying you whatever she could, offering to take you out in public so you don't feel out of place. All of these loving and innocent acts that you refused.

It was stressful to say the least, but Lia knows what has to be done, for both you and her wilted heart.

Ryujin

She's always been particularly observant over you, you've had the same effect on her for the past two years, but the effect she has on you? That's recently changed.

Ryujin had noticed your sudden submission to her eye contact, her presence had made your posture all stiff as your breaths were sharper than her blades.

It was different and extremely concerning. Yes, Ryujin was concerned. At first she thought you were ill, but after time, she realised the true meaning behind it all.

Normally, Ryujin would be able to smell fear from miles away, but she couldn't detect yours, so she was worried. If you were able to keep this from her then what else were you keeping secret from her?

Your fear of her was a slow burning process and as time went on, it bothered her more and more until she caved in, confronting you straight up.

Having random pedestrians fear her was one thing, but to have you in constant fear when around her was another.

Ryujin feels the need to set things right, so that's what she'll do, no matter the cost.

Chaeryeong

Seeing your trembling figure everytime she walks past you in the luxurious hallways contained within her building was scaring Chaeryeong.

Your fear of her had somehow made Chaeryeong fear herself, who even is she if she makes the person she cares for most fear her? There are only a few suitable answers to the question.

She's either a murder, a blood stained Queen or a monster. All of which are true.

She'd try to reach out, but would be in fear of hurting you far more than she had already done. What are you doing to the poor woman?

Either way, Chaeryeong can't help but feel useless. She let someone in, and she had let that person play with her emotions. Because of that, because of her decision to allow you into her life, she's now suffering the consequences of her actions.

If only she hadn't put you in the field with her, maybe then you wouldn't have known how roofless she can be with her opponents.

Although you may fear her now, time will reveal itself, hopefully then you'll trust her once again.

Yuna

Yuna understands perfectly well why you're in such distance from her, the fear you're feeling is normal… especially when you find out someone you're so close to is an undefeated Mafia boss.

However, what's irrational is the refusal to even bat an eye when she walks by. It's frustrating her at how stubborn you are.

It seems that when you said you don't want to look at her ever again, you had really meant it.

Yuna can't have you ignoring her for too long, it would drive her to insanity, Yuna knew it, you knew it, everyone knew it. That's what made it somewhat fun when Yuna had demanded you to look at her, her gun flesh against your forehead.

These were the things that made you fear her, and yet, instead of trying to fix the problem, she's adding to your negative views on her.

Yuna wouldn't understand it, she's still too nieve for the life of emotions whirling around secretly inside her murder stocked brain.

Will you ever trust her again? That's another story for a different day...

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cixthotshit · 3 years ago

Text

A Cup of Rose Americano

Pairing: Bae Jinyoung x Original Female Character|Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Poor Girl/Rich Boy, Coffee Shop/Gangster AU (IDEK how I got here, just go with it)

Summary: There's more than meets the eye with every person, including Bae Jinyoung, the world's finest barista at Personal Barista Cafe

Word count: 4.7k

Rating/Warnings: Mature / Explicit Sexual Content: Porn With Some Plot, Kissing, Mirror Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Creampie

Author’s Note: I wanted to write a fluffy Coffee Shop AU but NGL something else has been preoccupying my mind and the world building to this fic kind of went off the rails and transformed into a completely different story. Enjoy this smut, readers! I really want to explore this world a lot more but IDK if I can commit to anything beyond this RN. So please, please enjoy this! Sorry in advance for mistakes! I don't always catch everything when I proofread.

I always appreciate some feedback on my writings!

"Really, it'll be a...new coffee experience," Hyeon assured Sandy. She handed Sandy a green card. It felt like an expensive platinum credit card, the card made of metal, feeling heavy and cold in her hand. "All you have to do is fill out a survey after you get your free coffee. Once you make it inside, hand the card over to your barista."

"Aren't you supposed to find actual volunteers?" Sandy asked, looking at the shiny card. The only thing on the card was the name of the new test cafe, PB Cafe.

“Trust me,” Hyeon said with a grin. “You’ve never had coffee like this. This is free, too. You’re going to say no to free coffee? And I swear, this is really me saying it, their coffee is really good.”

“Fine, thanks for the free coffee.”

“Enjoy!” Hyeon turned her back to Sandy, most likely scanning for potential test subjects for her new marketing event. Being her best friend, Sandy was always her first test subject. She didn’t know if Hyeon’s bosses approved of her taking advantage of all the free stuff she was receiving.

Sandy walked over to a shop that was setup at the southwest corner of a 3 story building. The walls were white and the windows were covered by white curtains. “PB Cafe” was written in black on the front door, though there were no door handles. Standing in front of the door, Sandy noticed a black square pad beside the right side of the door. She pressed the green card to the black pad and jumped slightly as the glass door slid open. A short piano tune played, sounding old but familiar, reminding her of old Hollywood movies from the mid-20th Century.

Tentatively, she stepped in. Walking past the white curtains, she found herself inside a small room. At the back end of the room was a small bar with one wooden chair in front of it. It only took her 4 steps to reach the chair, so she pulled it out and sat down. The wall behind the bar slid down to the floor and a broad shouldered man walked out from what looked like a bright white light before the wall slid back up behind him.

Too shocked to react, Sandy set the green card down onto the smooth marble countertop. Her eyes couldn’t leave the face of her barista. He was very handsome and his small grin softened his masculine exterior. Wordlessly, he took the green card and placed it in the front left pocket of his black apron.

“Welcome to Personal Barista Cafe,” he said in a soft, sultry voice. “My name is Bae Jinyoung, your Personal Barista today. How shall I address you?”

“Uh, just call me Sandy, I don’t like formalities much.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Sandy. If you don’t like formalities feel free to call me BaeJin or BaeBae.” She gave a soft chuckle and threw her hand over her mouth, feeling her cheeks warm up. Such a sultry man telling her to call him something as cute as BaeBae tickled her. “Is this your first drink with PB Cafe?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I don’t know anything about this cafe, except that you have good coffee.”

“A Personal Barista will make you a personalized drink,” he explained, pulling out a menu form. “Whatever you order, I will make it in front of you. If you want to know how I prepare your drink, please let me know and I will explain as I go. If you want small talk instead, I enjoy a small conversation as I prepare you a drink. If you want silence, for any reason, please don’t feel pressured to speak if you don’t want to.”

“Can I get an Americano?” she asked, after glancing at the long list of coffee drinks. The menu was simple and elegant, the writings were in cursive but the paper was black and the ink white. She liked the seemingly simple attention to detail. “How long have you been a barista, BaeJin?”

“Almost a year,” he replied. He poured fresh ground coffee into a metal contraption with a long neck. She pressed her lips together as her eyes were fixed on his skilled, large hands. He was using a device to compact the coffee grounds.

“Do you enjoy being a barista?”

“I do. It allows me to be creative. My regular job is stressful.”

He put the coffee grounds into the machine and pressed a few buttons. She watched him place a small white espresso mug under the spout of the machine. He grabbed a large white mug of coffee, and looked at her with a soft grin.

“This is your side hustle?” she asked. PB Cafe seemed like it paid well.

“Most people have more than one job these days,” he replied.

“That’s true,” she replied. “I have a day job and a night job.”

“What are your jobs?”

“I’m interning at a law firm, helping a paralegal out. I’m hoping to get my private investigator’s license soon.”

“You want to be a private investigator?” he asked.

“I want to be a lawyer,” she answered, “but having a private investigator’s license helps me pick up skills. Research is the true gift of being a good lawyer.”

“Research. You must be very smart and hard working.”

“You are sweet,” she said, resting an elbow onto the counter, leaning forward. “I wish my smarts and hard work were enough to give me success. I’m lacking in luck lately.” His eyes drifted away from the espresso machine and looked into her eyes. She felt her cheeks turn hot, realizing she had overshared. It’d been a sad thought, too. “I feel very lucky right now.”

“Sandy, I don’t mean to make assumptions about people but if I were to guess you are someone with expensive tastes,” he said. He pulled out two small brown glass bottles from a drawer. “But, you settle for less.”

“I..” she breathed out.

She should have been insulted, but her barista BaeJin was right. Sandy had always been envious of people who could afford designer things or had the means to go on extravagant vacations, but all of that had always been a dream. The closest she got was free shit from Hyeon. A drink from PB Cafe was likely three times that of a drink from Starbucks, and Sandy could only afford Starbucks for special occasions.

“Why are you saying this?”

“I want to make you a drink in which you will appreciate,” he replied, pulling out a single stemmed pink rose from under the counter, and handed it to her. She felt her cheeks flush with heat as she accepted it. “Refined, seemingly ostentatious, but simple and hopefully, delicious.”

He poured hot water from a glass kettle into the mug. She felt her cheeks turn hot again as he reached over and plucked a single petal from the rose she held. He tilted a single drop of liquid from one of the brown bottles onto the petal.

“Rose water,” he said to her as he locked eyes with her for a second. He placed the rose petal into the mug, letting it float in the hot water. He poured the espresso into the mug of water, and took a spoon to scoop out the wilted petal, tossing it away before handing the drink to her.

She gave it a sip, and shut her eyes, a smile on her lips. Using a flower as aromatic as a rose was difficult to pull off in cuisine. Oftentimes the rose aroma was too overpowering, reminding one’s nose of perfume instead of food. Baejin’s Rose Americano, though, was the perfect balance of a good cup of coffee elevated with some elegance, refined by the subtlest hint of a rose’s sweet scent. The warm breath she exhaled after a hot sip of Americano filled her senses with flowery comfort.

“This is the most...beautiful cup of coffee I’ve ever tasted,” she replied, setting the mug down when she was half finished. “It tastes...beautiful.”

He gave a small chuckle, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. She bit her bottom lip, trying not to smile any wider than she already was. He was incredibly cute, grinning in reaction to her compliment. How could a man exude the amount of sensuality like BaeJin yet be so cute that she wanted to squish him like a marshmallow?

“You like it?” he asked.

“I do,” she replied. “I didn’t know a cup of Americano could be improved. Thank you for this cup of coffee. You’re a gifted barista.”

“Thank you. I would love to make you another drink.”

“I’ll try to come back one day,” she said earnestly.

She sipped her drink and glanced at her phone. Thanking her talented, handsome (and cute) barista BaeJin one last time, Sandy finished her drink and sprinted out of the odd, surreal cafe. She had to get ready for work. Smelling the pink rose in her hand, Sandy smiled to herself. Who knew her barista would be the first man to give her a rose?

“Diamond! Malibu was accidentally double booked,” Danielle called out into the dressing room. “Can you give a lap dance in the Blue Champagne Room before going home?”

“Wait,” Sandy said, holding the gold hoop earring she’d just taken off her left earlobe, “I’m not going to chase Malibu for the flat fee. The last time I covered for her, not only did her John not tip me but I had to chase her for 4 days before she gave me the cash.”

“I have a hard time chasing her down, too,” Danielle said with a heavy sigh, handing her purple vape pen to Sandy to hold. She dug into her pink and purple Bedazzled fanny pack, and fished out a few bills. She handed a bag of clothing to Sandy. “Let me know if this John is handsy or out of line. He’s a new customer. You have five minutes, babe. Fix your makeup.”

Handing the vape pen back to her boss, Sandy put the cash into her purse before shutting and locking the drawer to her vanity. She put her earring back on and retouched her eye makeup and lipstick. Her locks of hair looked good as she combed her fingers through her hair, looking into the mirror before getting up to change.

Sandy hadn’t exactly planned on becoming a stripper, but during her freshman year in college, she took a class on feminist studies, specifically on sex work. What started out as a learning experience in respecting sex work, and educating herself on the legal struggles of sex workers’ rights, Sandy soon found herself stripping as a means of extra income. She herself was in need of money, and recognized her beauty was valued enough that she could make capital from it.

Having walked out on her dysfunctional family as soon as she turned 18, Sandy had been hustling on her own for years. She was still working towards a career in law, but in the meantime, she was balancing between her day job as an unpaid intern at a shitty law firm and her night job as a stripper at a club called Blue Paradise. Giving lap dances were only nice when she received good tips, but they didn’t happen often enough. All she wanted was a good tip.

Pulling out the outfit Danielle handed to her, she took off her clothes and put on her new outfit. She wore a neon pink G-string bikini bottom with her matching lace bra under a black pencil skirt and a white costume button up office dress shirt. She put on a loose blue tie around her neck, and put on a pair of thick black framed glasses, matching it with her black leather knee high boots. Apparently, this new customer had a librarian kink.

Walking down the hall, toward the other side of the back of the club, she entered the room with the blue door at the end of the hall. The Champagne Rooms, where customers received their private lap dances, were color coded. The Blue Room was where the clients with specific kinks went.

Opening the door, Sandy pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and looked up to see her John seated on the black couch. The dim lighting of the room cast a shadow over his body, making it hard for her to make out his face. She blinked, and closed her mouth, realizing that her customer was her barista from PB Cafe, BaeJin. It had been days since she had her cup of Rose Americano.

He was wearing a loosely worn grey sweater with black denim jeans. She didn’t think it was possible but he looked more handsome than she last remembered. Perhaps, with her body so close to his, knowing that he was there for devious reasons, her face flushed and her nipples hardened as heat rushed through her body from head to toe.

“BaeJin!” she said, forgetting her sexy librarian character.

“Don’t move,” he said, looking alarmed. She stood completely still, one hand on the door handle. “You’re a stripper, Sandy?”

“You...you remember me?” He nodded. “Stripping is helping me pay for my law degree.” She licked her lips and tilted her head, pushing her chest forward slightly. “I can give you what you want.”

“I can’t do this,” he replied, crossing his left leg over his right. His eyes left her, and diverted to the ground. Her ego was bruised. Not only did she need the money, but her vanity made her feel upset that he didn’t want a lap dance from her. “I should go.”

“I have to try to keep you here,” she said shyly, pressing her back against the door. “If I don’t, that means I’m not good at my job.”

“How long should we be in here for you to be considered good at your job?” he asked, his eyes returning to meet her gaze.

“You don’t want a lap dance? Am I not cute? My tits too small?”

He gave a chuckle, and looked away when his eyes moved to her chest as she talked.

“You’re very cute,” he replied, “but that’s the problem. As a barista, I don’t date customers. Since you didn’t actually pay for your drink, I thought it’d be OK to ask you out if I ever saw you again. But if I pay for this lap dance, I wouldn’t want to ask you out. It’s not fair for me to proposition you while you’re working.”

“You’ve been thinking hard about me?” Her cheeks felt hot and goosebumps formed on her arms. “Would you accept my invitation if I asked you out after this? I’m actually supposed to be off work by now, but this is my last job tonight. If I don’t give you a lap dance, we didn’t cross any lines, right?”

He nodded, and she gave a nervous chuckle.

“You said that being a barista was your side hustle,” she said, noticing the expensive watch and ring on his left hand. Sex workers had to know street codes to keep themselves safe, and watches and rings were how gang members communicated their loyalties and rankings. “What’s your main job? You said it’s stressful.”

His right hand wrapped around his platinum watch, the case of the watch encrusted with diamonds. The C9 Gang was a wealthy gang with origins in Tokyo, Japan, platinum was their calling card. BaeJin’s gold band emerald ring sat on his middle finger, indicating he was a made man of high rank. Sandy was impressed; BaeJin had acclimated to a high status in a gang at a young age.

“How long have you been working here, Sandy?” he asked in response.

“Diamond,” she answered, her grip remaining firm on the door. “My stage name is Diamond.”

“Sandy...Diamond,” he said with a grin. He stood, and she took a deep inhale of breath as he took a step forward and pressed his body against hers, his left arm wrapping around her waist as his hand gripped onto her wrist. Her hold on the door handle loosened. “You are the diamond in the rough in Blue Paradise. You still want to invite me out on a date?”

She took a gulp of breath, staring deeply into his dark brown eyes. He licked his lips and her eyes drifted to his mouth. Giving the most gentle nod of her head, she said, “Yes.”

“I drive a blue Ferrari F60 America,” he said as the tip of his nose touched hers.

“I don’t know anything about cars,” she replied, shutting her eyes. His breath was warm, making it hard for her to breathe. He chuckled and she felt his head rest onto her shoulder.

She opened her eyes when she felt a hand touch her chin.

“I drive a blue car,” he said, his eyes drifting down her face to her lips. His thumb ran across her bottom lip gently, sending heat deep into her groin. Her stomach ached at the touch. “It’ll be the most expensive looking car you’ll see when you walk outside.” He looked directly into her eyes again. “I’m a dangerous man, Sandy...Diamond. I have to ask you one more time, do you want to keep talking to me?”

She chewed on the inside of her left cheek nervously, and furrowed her eyebrows. Given how close she was to getting the paid job as a paralegal at Johnston’s &Partners, Sandy was one step closer to her dreams of becoming a lawyer. Would it be ethical to date a gangster?

“Will you take me home or will we be going to your place?” she answered. Life was too short not to take risks.

Upon his request, she left work wearing her costume. BaeJin’s description of having the most expensive looking car was accurate. The navy blue car shone brighter than any other car, and the curves of the body created an elegant design to the car. He’d opened the passenger door for her. She realized her skirt barely covered her ass as the cold leather from the seat hit the back of her thighs.

He drove them up a curvy hill to get to his expensive mansion, placed behind a small forest. It sat atop of a mountainous hill, overlooking the bright lights of the city far below. BaeJin was a man of very high rank by the looks of his home. It was large and designed with multiple floor to ceiling windows. Sandy took a soft gulp of air as her mouth felt dry.

“Your home is beautiful,” she said when he led her into his home, the hallway lined with expensively framed paintings. The jade vase that held 3 white lilies beside the coat hanger looked like it was worth more than everything she owned, including the small amount of cash she had in her bank account.

BaeJin’s home aesthetic was minimalist, though each room had a piece of furniture that popped out, like the jade vase in the front entrance. In his bedroom, he had a rose gold encrusted full length mirror sitting at the foot of his bed. It was shameless, but did not surprise her. Their eyes locked as BaeJin sat down at the foot of the bed. Their fingers intertwined when she reached her left hand out to his outstretched right hand.

“I spent a week trying not to think about you,” he said, pulling her easily onto his lap. His free hand wrapped around her waist. “The closest thing to you was trying to get a stripper to dress up like a sexy librarian.”

“Aren’t you lucky?” she said, squeezing his hand. “You went to Blue Paradise wanting a fantasy. Instead, you left with your fantasy.”

His hand released hers and she felt his hand between her legs, sliding up against her slit. Shutting her eyes she gave a soft moan, surprised at his swift movement.

“You deserve the best in life,” he said into her ear before grazing his teeth gently against her neck. “Don’t ever settle for less.”

He kissed her, his lips warm and firm. His tongue parted her lips and she gave a soft hum. She pushed his tongue out of her mouth, appreciating the taste of floral green tea from him. Her fingers tangled into his hair, pulling him closer to her. He tasted better than the beautiful cup of Rose Americano.

With a clouded head, she helped him pull his sweater off as he aggressively pulled her top off of her, the cheap buttons popping loudly as they flew into the air. Her skirt failed to exist when he ripped the zipper and tore the fabric apart with his bare hands.

“Are you going to rip me apart?” she asked breathlessly when his fingers found their way under her bra, fondling her erect nipple. She gave a soft moan and he grinned as he pinched her sensitive bud.

“I’ll be as hard or soft as you want,” he assured her. The pad of his thumb grazed against her nipple. Her back shivered as a sharp heat rode up her back.

“I like a bit of both,” she said, her cheeks hot. It felt like a dream to have BaeJin telling her he would do as she wanted. “You ruined my skirt.”

“The cheap costume skirt?” he asked, his hand returning to rubbing her slit. “You don’t have to settle, remember?” She shut her eyes, her hand grabbing his arm as two of his fingers pressed against her clit. “I like you best without clothes anyway.” The heat intensified as his fingers moved down lower, moistening her panties with the slick heat coming out of her pussy. Her back shook again as his fingers moved up against her slit, and then back down. “Your voice is lovely.”

She moaned as she rested her head against his chest, his fingers continually creating more heat between her legs. One finger slipped under her panties, pulling the fabric away from her wet cunt. The back of his knuckle pressed against the engorged bud of her clit, and she mewled as he rubbed up and down against her.

“BaeBae,” she could only speak with a shaky breath, “BaeBae, I’m going to come.”

Her hips thrust haphazardly against his knuckle as a small flash of heat washed over her, goosebumps forming up the back of her neck. Her orgasm disappeared as soon as it came and she breathed through her mouth. Her pussy felt wet as her slick heat dripped out of her.

“I was just playing with you,” he said with an amused smile, his eyes locked onto the mess between her legs, including his wet fingers. He spread her juices onto her folds, and moved the pads of his index and middle fingers to draw small circles onto her clit. She mewled, shutting her eyes, as her hips rutted against the motions of his fingers. “But with you this wet, I can fuck you right now.”

“BaeBae,” she breathed out, opening her eyes.

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she looked at him. Wordlessly, she stood as their hands began removing each other’s clothes off. His expensive jewelry remained on as he pulled her back to his front, making her stand between his legs. His hand went between her legs and he massaged the inside of her thigh. She hummed a soft moan, enjoying the way his hand relaxed her muscles.

Both of his hands wrapped around her waist, and his lips kissed her neck. He requested she trust him, and one hand reached down to her right knee and had her stretch her leg out to rest over his. As his other hand went to her left knee, she understood what he was doing. He wanted a full view of her pussy so she sat on his lap with her legs hooked over his.

“Ready to put this to use?” he asked, his hands kneading her hips. His reflection from the mirror was staring at her. She saw the cheeks of her flushed face turn a bright red, and she tilted her head down to look away from the mirror. The blood coursing through her chest up to her head clouded her vision. “Look at us.”

His right hand cupped her face, and she felt his wrist press up against the front of her neck. The pulse from his wrist beat rapidly against the pulse on her neck, and she struggled to breathe as her eyes locked onto his from the reflection in the mirror. Hot blood rushed to her groin and her hips jerked forward, out of her control. His left arm wrapped around her waist had her firmly in his hold, so all she could do was wiggle in his lap. Feeling the muscles of his thighs flex under her made her buttocks tighten, her body anticipating his cock.

“If you let me take you raw,” he said softly against her ear, his eyes locked with hers through the reflection of the mirror, “that’ll make you mine.”

His hold on her face was gone as his hand grabbed his cock. He rubbed his hard cock against her slit. She bit her bottom lip as his heat caused more juices to pool out of her cunt. It made her nerves shake, itching her skin in unbearable heat. He blinked, and his eyebrows furrowed as she opened her mouth to breathe loudly.

“I’m yours,” she said clearly. He groaned as he pushed the tip of his cock into her entrance. “Give me everything, BaeJin.” Pleasure blinded her vision as she saw nothing but white and gold flecks of stars. She gave a loud gulp when she felt his hand grip onto her chin again, his wrist pressing against her throat. Her grip on his arms tightened as she held onto him for leverage. His cock pushed in deeper, and the walls of her pussy trembled as heat filled her body in overwhelming waves. “I’m yours.”

His lips were on her neck and when her vision cleared all her eyes could focus was on the way his cock was fucking her pussy. He started with shallow pushes, the rhythm steady as she bounced on his lap. She came and she gave a gentle mewl, blurting out his name as her walls squeezed his cock. A gentle chuckle escaped her lips as she saw him shut his eyes tight.

“You’re so easy to please,” he said as he pushed in deep. She gave a loud groan as he pulled out roughly before pushing in fast, going in balls deep. He started a steady, deep rhythm and she cried as she was filled with undiluted pleasure.

“You fuck so good,” she moaned, her hand reaching back to grab his hair. He sucked on her neck, leaving a red mark before he kissed her shoulder. “BaeJin, fuck me. I’m gonna - I’m - I’m gonna come.”

His grip around her waist tightened as he pushed faster into her, and they bent forward together as he came into her in deep pushes. Her fingers dug into his skin as she shut her eyes, taking in the sensation of his hot seed filling up her insides.

“Come,” he panted out heavily as she felt him withdraw from her. She whimpered as she felt his middle finger push into her come-filled cunt. His thumb rubbed up against her clit, making her nerves dance in hot waves. She cried out a soft orgasm as she came again. She breathed heavily as she rested against his body.

“We barely know each other,” she said after a while. She didn’t know how long they sat together, staring at their reflection before she finally spoke.

“We have the rest of our lives to get to know each other,” he said, running a hand up and down her thigh, sending heat up and down her back. “You are mine now.”

He pulled her off his lap, and they laid in bed together. A shiver went down her back as he kissed her shoulder. They were facing each other, her left leg locked between his muscular thighs.

Giving a laugh, she watched him grab her wrist. He kissed the inside of her wrist before kissing the inside of her elbow. She shut her eyes as she felt his lips on her shoulder. Every kiss sent a vibrating heat under her skin. His mouth sucked on her neck and she grabbed onto the back of his hair as his teeth grazed against her skin. The muscles in her stomach tightened. The world ceased to exist as BaeJin’s embrace consumed her.

#cix smut #cix #baejin imagines #bae jinyoung #bae jinyoung x reader #baejin x reader #cix baejin smut #baebae #cix baejin #bae jinyoung x fem oc #baejin x fem oc #coffee shop au #gangster au #fluff #smut #bae jinyoung smut #no beta read #cixthotshit

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bakugosbratx · 4 years ago

Note

Hi names Faith, She/her.

I saw you write for Hawks, which is wonderful cause I adore him.

So I have a request, it's kinda angsty which if you don't want to write it that's cool.

But what if him and his girlfriend, who has a similar quirk to his, she has wings too, are fighting along side each other and she gets seriously injured, and her wings are severly broken, like they will take months to heal properly.

This leads her into a dark emotional state cause she feels trapped when she can't fly, like a bird in a cage with clipped wings.

How would Hawks react or help her?

Sorry it's so long.

SFW Three Feathers— Keigo Tamaki x Angst Fem! Reader

Warning: Angst, cursing, medical talk, broken wings, depression, sadness, fluff etc.

Check out my other works here

A/N: Thank you so much for your patience and request. No worries love! I write just about anything tbh. I hope this is what you are looking for.

Y/H/N- Your Hero Name

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @quietlegends @lanarist @milkthistletea

Keigo came home late again that night. Not that you really noticed as you sit in your own agony. Days felt long regardless if Keigo was home on time or not. He is only ultimately late because of you.

That day keeps replaying in your head. The league of villains strike again and Keigo told you to be careful, but your own strong will gets in the way. You are losing feathers at a rapid pace, a pace that could be damaging if you don’t stop. You couldn’t stop, though. Pedestrians lives were on the line.

“Y/H/N,” Hawks, your boyfriend and boss, shouts from the air while you stand on the rooftop, “you need to stop. Now.”

“No!” You protested with a glare. Screams filled the streets and you are about to do the only logical thing you could think of: jump.

Before you could, a strong pair of hands grabbed onto your arm. You dared to meet your boyfriend’s golden orbs. He is giving you the sternest of looks. If you had much feathers left, they would be gone by now from the coldness.

“Do you have a death wish?” Keigo snapped.

“No,” you state, “I am doing my job.”

“Well, you can’t do your job if you kill yourself in the process, chickadee.”

You take your arm out of his grip, his words going in one ear and out the other. One of the many things he loved and despised about you was your strong will to save others.

The wind began to pick up. Another one of your beautiful feathers ride the waves of the breeze. The air was stronger than normal thanks to one of the villains quirk. It is making it quite dangerous to fly. Hence why a lot of your feathers are gone.

“Well, I have to try.”

“Y/N, don’t do this or I will intervene.” Keigo warned. A warning you refused to oblige by.

You climbed to the edge of the roof, a determined look on your face. Fluttering what is left of your feathers, you take off, faster than Keigo could grab onto you.

“Y/H/N, NO!” Keigo shouts, doing his best to follow you, but it’s too late. What is left of your wings danced amongst the wind as you fall down onto the pesky villain below. Keigo is sure to land shortly after, checking to see if you are alright.

“Baby bird, I’m home. I brought dinner.” Keigo calls as he walks to your shared bedroom. His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. You did not even notice you have been crying from reliving the memories.

Sadness filled Keigo while he witnesses a familiar sight. Seeing you like this pains him deep inside. That day is a never ending loop on his mind just like it is for yours. He would never tell you, but he blames himself for what happened. He should have stopped you from jumping, he should have been a few seconds faster, he should have saved you.

“Oh, chickadee.” Keigo sighed, placing the KFC on the nightstand beside you to comfort you. You sobbed into the crook of his neck, envying the fact his feathers restored way quicker than yours. Not that you wish pain on your boyfriend, but it is in the back of your tired mind.

Keigo held you until your sobs turned into snivels. Pulling away, he analyzed your wings. It’s been a month since the incident happened. Some feathers would come in just to fall to the floor shortly after. The excitement that filled your eyes would soon fade to emptiness. Keigo did not even tell you if you had fathers anymore and you didn’t even dare to ask.

Keigo forced you to eat — as usual — to keep your nutrition back. “It will help your wings heal faster if you stay well nourished.” Keigo reminded you like always, chomping on a drumstick.

“Easy for you to say. You have your wings.” You mumbled, not taking a single bite of your chicken. Keigo paused, your comment not going unheard like you wished it would.

“You will get yours back, too. Don’t you worry, pebble.”

“And what if I am worried?” You argued, tears brimming your irises.

“And you think I’m not?” Keigo shot back with a raised eyebrow. “I want you to be able to fly, chickadee. This is what we are made to do. I miss having you alongside me, but you will be back. I have faith.”

“I’m happy one of us does.” You whimpered, tears escaping your eyes before you could stop them.

Keigo finished his chicken before speaking again. He takes your hand, intertwining your fingers as he leads you to the master bathroom. Turning on the light, he forced you to look at yourself. Something you haven’t done in awhile.

You looked a mess. You have not been taking care of yourself like you should have due to your depression. It was a struggle to even get you to shower. You could not bare the thought of seeing your wings. They looked naked.

Baby feathers grew in place where big, beautiful ones used to be. You should be happy at the progress, but you only felt worse about yourself. Keigo, who is fixing your hair as he stands behind you, grinned from ear-to-ear.

“I don’t know what you’re doing Keigo, but this isn’t making me feel better about myself.” You sighed, meeting his gaze through the giant mirror.

“Turn around.” He instructed. Suspicious of his methods, you do it anyways. By the time you faced him, he was holding up a hand-held mirror so you could see the back of your wings with the other mirror’s reflection. You let out a gasp.

Three beautiful feathers have came in. They were even prettier than ones that have grown and wilted away before. They were just like your original ones. So strong and healthy.

“Keigo, are these—“

“They are permanent. I’ve been keeping my eye on them since they came in.” Keigo explained, putting the hand held mirror down so he can look down at you with a genuine smile.

You automatically go in for a kiss, something you have not done in awhile. You both desperately missed each other though you both laid in the same bed. This accident took a toll on not only you, but your relationship and for once in a single month, you both have hope.

©bakugosbratx

#tw angst #tw depression #bakugosbratx #bnha hawks #hawks #boku no hero academia hawks #wing hero hawks #mha hawks #hawks fluff #hawks angst #keigo x you #bnha keigo #keigo tamaki #mha keigo x reader #keigo fluff #keigo x y/n #mha takami keigo #pro hero hawks

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fluffy-lee-boa · 3 years ago

Text

Tiny Devil

lee!swatch, ler!spamton

a/n: hey y’all! this was an anon request that i decided to crank out within the hour haha. still trying to get a handle on spamton’s mannerisms/speaking quirks, but i did my best! hope you like it~!

Swatch has been deep in thought when he was called by one of his employees, who was now motioning towards one of the tables in the back of the cafe in visible discomfort and making several charades that were honestly incomprehensible. The boss had been pretty busy that morning, fulfilling orders and chatting with guests to ensure everyone’s comfort, so his small break had been cherished for those few moments before he was needed again. The Queen had kept a close eye on him ever since the… “incident” with that young Addison boy. His leave from the castle hadn’t been pretty, and she wanted Swatch to take the reigns on public outreach to distract from the uproar.

Speaking of uproar… it seems as though that Addison had returned. Again.

He’d already been removed from the premises twice before- once after his eviction and then again the other day for attempting to enter through the cafe’s back rooms. Not only that, but every time he was here he managed to cause quite a scene.

Swatch couldn’t allow that to happen again, not when he was under such pressure to keep a tight ship.

He sighed, adjusting his glasses and strolling over to where the small man was sitting. Hm. It seemed as though he was wearing a different outfit this time. The tie and the glasses…

Oh. Of course. He was trying to impersonate him. That was what that Swatchlings had been trying to tell him. It would have been laughable if it weren’t so… sad.

He forced himself to show a polite smile, his customer service voice more strained than usual as he chirped, “Ah, Spamton… is it? You’ve, eh, returned. To the castle… -Shouldn’t you be with the other Addisons in town?”

He’d rather not have to drag him out of the cafe like last time, though he didn’t see much of a choice after the smaller figure jumped to his feet, eyes unnaturally wide. (Since when did they get so… crazed? Empty?)

“THERE YOU ARE, YOU [[BIG SHOT]]. I JUST WANTED TO GET A CLOSER LOOK AT THAT [[lower level!]] WITHOUT THE QUEEN KNOWING I WAS HERE! D’YA THINK YOU COULD DO THAT FOR ME, [[friend request accepted!]]”

Swatch wilted slightly, looking regretful as he approached the other and easily picked him up to carry him back outside like a stray cat, “Spamton, that’s not feasible and we both know that. You were evicted weeks ago. You need to move on… there are lighteners in this world now, coming this way. They can’t see you here, not like this. Impressions are everything.”

Usually he would have a Swatchling take care of this part for him, though he did feel like he owed the little guy an explanation. So he walked him out to the front of the cafe, looking almost disappointed, “You know, you can’t keep showing up here unannounced and without the money to pay your debts. You’re lucky it was me that found you, and not one of my men stationed farther down the hall. The Queen didn’t build that acid lake for mere decorum, you know.”

Spamton struggled in his hold the whole time, looking frankly quite upset despite that permanent smile plastered on his face. (Again, had his expression always been so forced?)

“PUT ME DOWN YOU [[mother’s day special!]] [[4.99]].”

Always so eloquent, he was.

“I can’t do that. I’m taking you to the outskirts of the castle so you can’t just waltz back inside and get yourself caught. Really, there’s nothing left here for you. That basement has been empty for years besides a few broken scraps. I would know.” Swatch continued smoothly, not even flinching as Spamton’s limbs flailed around.

Though he should have been paying a little more attention, as after a moment of useless struggling, the puppet forwent all decorum and bit down on Swatch’s hand. Like some sort of rabid animal.

The larger of the two gave a sharp yelp, losing his grip on the Addison. He choked on his words, struggling to keep his composure and not swear or make a scene despite his anger. He instead opened his mouth to simply chide Spamton, who had taken to scaling him like the little demon that he was. Though even that plan was aborted when he felt those damned tiny doll hands dig into his shoulders as he was climbed like a cat tower.

He let out a strangled, whimpery sound, which made Spamton stop in his tracks. Je had stalled with his hands positioned perfectly upon his upper back to get the bird squirming and giggling softly, despite his best efforts.

His confusion soon turned into a teasing smirk as he smirked, “OH. [[Talk about a plot twist!]]”

“S-Spamton-! Let go of me this instant! No, don’t you- ahAHA-!” Swatch, the oh-so-refined and highly respected shopkeep, was suddenly bursting into sharp laughter as he tried in vain to reach the little devil who was now latched onto his back and skittering around.

He was lucky they had taken a less popular path to the gates, though considering how loud Swatch was being as he guffawed and squawked at the ticklish sensation, anyone within the radius of Queen’s castle must have heard him anyways. With his glasses askew and his suit ruffled as Spamton wormed his fingers against his shoulder blades, Swatch was flustered beyond belief to be reduced to such a state. Though who could blame him? The strange little thing was wholly unpredictable, leaving him guessing his every next move. It served to make the sensation feel a dozen times more unbearable, leading to his increasingly frantic demeanor.

“SPAMTON NAHAHA- GEHET OFF! I WILL CAHALL THE GUAHA- AHAHA NO, NO NOT THERE-“

The bird like attendant’s laughter rose in pitch when Spamton attempted to get a grip on a spot much too close to his neck. The puppet snickered, about to gloat or even offer to stop… if the former let him into the castle. He would have been all too ready to tease in that fractured voice of his- Though Swatch finally managed to get the upper hand again while he was busy deciding just what to say.

He reached back and grabbed Spamton by the ankle, holding him out in front of him as he breathed heavily and tried to recover from the ghost tickles still vibrating all over him. His face was flushed, and he seemed almost conflicted as he stared the smaller man down. Like he was… kind of enjoying the playfulness.

Though that playfulness quickly turned to determination as he narrowed his eyes at Spamton like he was his prey.

“UH… HEH HEH… CAN WE [[talk about a deal!]]?”

Sadly, it was far too late for bargaining. Revenge was in order. And for a butler covered in feathers, he knew exactly what that would entail.

[[TO BE CONTINUED?]]

#ler!spamton #lee!swatch #deltatickles #deltarune tickles

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tryingmybestpls · 4 years ago

Text

Hurt

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

Summary: In a post-snap world, the reader and Steve are falling apart.

Rating: R

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: Talks of death, talks of a dead child, infidelity, depression

A/N: this kinda just a fucking bummer. Sorry.

Almost an entire lifetime ago, Director Fury himself had told her that marriage and children only complicated life. At the time, Y/N had brushed it off. She was going to be an SHIELD agent, so she wasn’t going to have time for a spouse and children. And she was completely fine with that at the time.

Now, a part of Y/N wished that she had listened to her boss as she glances down at the shiny granite headstone.

Y/N didn't mean to fall in love with her teammate. Steve and her had a great friendship and it just sort of transitioned into an equally great relationship. Life happens and all that. They had gotten married shortly before the Accords caused the team to fall apart. A year into Steve, Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Y/N being on the run, a smaller, tinier person joined the team.

Steve and Y/N were over the moon about the new addition to their family. Their son James (named after Steve’s best friend) was the sweetest little boy and had both of his parents wrapped around his tiny finger. They quickly adjusted to being parents, managed to balance their new roles and being on the run almost effortlessly. Sure it wasn't ideal, but they had to make do with the situation they were in. Things were fine and the little family was happy.

And then Thanos showed up.

Everyone had lost someone the day that Thanos snapped his fingers. No part of the universe was left untouched. Both Y/N and Steve were still reeling from the losses of their friends and teammates as they rushed back towards the royal palace. They had left James with Queen Ramonda and both of them needed to make sure he was safe, needed him to be okay. Death and destruction was all around them and dust hung in the air was they moved their legs faster and faster.

Instead they were met with the Queen Regent's sobs and a pile of dust amongst James's toys. It was an image that would be ingrained in Steve and Y/N forever.

Once both of them settled into a new apartment in Brooklyn, Y/N had joined a group for mothers who lost children in the Snap. Upon entering the meeting for the very first time, she was met with the glares of every mother in the room. Each one of their gazes seeming to scream at Y/N "This is your fault. You're the reason why our babies are gone.". The leader of the group took Y/N aside and asked with faux sincerity if the Avenger could leave. She couldn't blame them. Y/N would ask herself to leave too if she was in their shoes.

Y/N never told Steve what had happened. She knew he wouldn't understand. No one would ever turn Captain America down, no one would feel uncomfortable by his presence. Y/N on the other hand? Well she wasn't a cherished hero. She was just on the team.

Y/N didn't mean to distance herself from her husband, but it just happened. The day that James turned into the dust, a part of Y/N died. It was hard for her to put her feelings into words when everything just hurt. Y/N tried to talk about it, but her throat would just tighten with emotion as she tried to gather her words. Her days would blur together and Y/N would find herself unable to leave her room. She tried not to sleep, knowing that if she did all she would see is that pile of dust amongst his toys. Steve was patient at first, letting her take her time. Yet as one year without their son turned into two, his patience grew thin.

Y/N was trying her best, she really was. Sure it didn't seem like a lot of progress to just leave the house for short amounts of time, but it was just so hard. She’s lost people before, but none of those losses made her ache in such a way. Her arms felt empty with no child to carry and she felt so alone. Everything reminded her of James. A child laughing, the bounce of a ball, the crunch of the leaves underneath her feet as the seasons changed-everything reminded her of her son. She couldn't even look at her husband without her heart aching in her chest because their son looked just like him. She knew that Steve just wanted her to find a way to get through it and get over it. He had given up on helping her, spending more and more time at his meetings. Y/N just kept telling herself that they were helping him, so it wasn't a big deal if he was gone for most of the day. If he wasn't here, they didn't fight.

Before Thanos, they really didn't fight. Sure they would argue about stupid little things and make up almost immediately, but now? They fought about everything. Y/N asking if Steve could handle grocery shopping for the week would turn into a three hour long screaming match. Steve got pissed off about every little thing she did. Fighting with Steve was exhausting because somehow he always found a way to make Y/N feel shitty about anything she had and hadn't done. There wasn't anymore making up after their fights, no sweet kisses and I love yous. Only doors slamming shut and a lot of words that shouldn’t be thrown around so carelessly.

She tried to ignore it when he'd leave their apartment after they had a fight. Tried to ignore how loud the door would slam, how'd he'd mutter something under his breath as he grabbed his coat and keys. She even tried to ignore the smell of a perfume that wasn't hers when he'd come home, slipping under the covers without bothering to shower. Y/N even tried to ignore it when he left her alone on Mother's Day, stuck in the apartment surrounding by images of the son she had lost while he was out doing whatever he did before coming home smelling like that perfume.

Y/N knew exactly what he was doing and she didn't know if had it in her anymore to fight with him. She tried to pretend like it wasn't happening until she just couldn't anymore.

"He's cheating on me, Nat." Y/N told her friend over their weekly coffee date-a sign of her progress. Natasha was stunned by the confession and was even more shocked by her friend's tone. Y/N said it like she was talking about the weather, her voice lacking any sort of emotion. The red head sitting across from her slowly put down her cup of coffee.

Y/N has been trying to tell Natasha since it started, but she just didn't know how to say it. Steve was one of Natasha's best friends and Y/N didn't want to tear them apart because of what Steve was doing. However, Natasha was Y/N's friend too and she had no one else to talk to. Y/N was at a crossroad and both of them ended in disaster. It just finally got to the point where she just had to tell Natasha and Y/N knew she shouldn't feel guilty about finally saying it, but she did.

"What do you mean?-I-Are you sure?" Natasha questions as Y/N keeps her eyes down, just nodding in response. Nat's eyebrows furrow together as she continues, "When-When did it start?"

"Two months ago. He-He started to leave after we'd fight and he'd come back smelling like perfume. It's more frequent now. No fights needed." Her tone is so matter-of-fact that it makes Natasha's heart ache. There was no anger in Y/N's words, no resentment. Natasha hates how her friend has come to terms with Steve's infidelity. To Y/N, it felt cathartic to finally say what has been happening. She didn’t want Nat to go and knock some sense into Steve or anything like that. All she wanted was to finally say it aloud, to tell someone what was going on, even though it just made the whole situation real. Y/N turns her head to look out of the window, letting out a shaky breath as Natasha reaches out to hold her hand. Her other hand was left holding her mug of coffee, the gold wedding ring seemingly weighing a tons

An hour later, Y/N sees them as the cab she is in pulls up to the curb. Steve and a young brunette laughing and smiling as they walk out of the apartment building and it feels like Y/N is being stabbed in the chest. Ignoring the pain she's in, Y/N forces herself out of the cab, some sadistic part of her just needing to get out. The other woman sees her first, eyes widening. It takes a second for Steve to realize what had happened, the smile dropping from his face.

The three of them stand there for what feels like an eternity, Y/N still holding onto the cab door. Steve opens his mouth and closes it, not even knowing how to work his way around this. Y/N was seething, sadness quickly turning into rage. It was one thing for Steve to be sneaking around at night, for him to be hiding the fact that he was cheating. It was another thing entirely for him to be walking around with the other woman, not caring who saw.

Y/N knows that grief manifests itself in different ways, but this is straw that broke the camel's back. Steve had found a way to completely forget about their son and his wife, distracting himself with his stupid little grief circle and a young mistress. Y/N wants to scream at him and make a scene, but she just doesn't have it in her. Tears fill her eyes and as Steve moves to take a step forward, Y/N slips back into the cab, shutting the door behind her.

There's a chill in the air as she walks through the cemetery, wrapping her coat around herself a little tighter. It was freezing out and Y/N knows that she should've gone somewhere warm, but here she was. Her feet carried her where she needed to go, working on pure muscle memory. The hero comes to a stop in front of a small stone headstone.

Their therapist had told them that having a place to visit James would bring them comfort in a way. She had also said that burying him would ease some of the pain and help with the grieving process. Y/N didn't want to say that burying that tiny box filled with the dust they had gathered had only made her feel worse. Steve and Y/N had tried to visit as much as possible, even decorated his grave for each holiday, but then Steve stopped showing up.

There's a bouquet of wilting sunflowers in the little hole by his headstone, which she had left for James on Thanksgiving. They'd be replaced in a week or two by bright red poinsettias to signal the change of seasons and holidays. Another Christmas without her baby boy would turn into another year without him. Y/N's throat tightened as she realized that James has been gone longer than he was alive.

As she stood there, the cracks in their relationship became apparent. Y/N knew Steve wasn’t the perfect partner, but all of their big issues had been washed away by all of the good things. When they were dating, everything came before Y/N, which she understood at the time. Saving the world comes first and all that, but as she looks back on it, it wasn’t just saving the world. Others were just put in front of her and she had just chalked it up to Steve just being selfless. He’d miss dates and anniversaries, always giving her a half assed excuse and that thousand watt smile. Steve would always come apologize, holding a bunch of red roses. Each time, he’d look down at the flowers and say that he gotten her favorite flowers. She never had the heart to tell him that her favorite flower was peonies. When they were married, the search for Bucky always came first. Y/N hadn’t minded at the time because she knew how important Bucky was to Steve, but that mess quickly turned into the Accords.

Steve never told her that Bucky had killed Tony’s parents. Hell, he didn’t even really discuss choosing Bucky over the team with her. Steve had just assumed that Y/N was going to stick with him regardless and because Steve had assumed it, so did everyone else, so she was just forced to go along with it. She had been forced into a pair of restraints while Steve jetted off to Siberia with Bucky. Steve never asked if she even wanted to go on the run with him, once again he just sort of assumed. Y/N just fulfilled her role of the dutiful wife

When Y/N found out that she was pregnant, she wanted to take a plea deal like Scott and Clint did. A life on the run of was no life for a baby and Y/N knew it. She was on the brink of reaching out to Tony when she had told Steve that she was pregnant. The thought of her child having a normal life immediately disintegrated as Steve told her that they were going to make this work. The cracks just keep getting bigger and bigger, spreading further and deeper into their relationship. While she had originally thought there was just a few issues suddenly turned into dozens and dozens of red flags.

Time seems not to touch the cemetery, so she doesn't know how many minutes or hours have passed when someone walks up to stand beside her. Y/N knows who it is immediately, but she doesn't bother to greet him. Instead, her eyes just stay on the headstone and they stand in silence for awhile, Y/N slowly coming to terms with what she was going to have to do.

"I'm not doing this anymore, Steve." Y/N finally announces, forcing it through the emotion that currently strangling her. Her glove covered hands are shoved into her pockets, her wedding ring burning her flesh as she continues, "I want a divorce."

"Y/N, I-" Steve starts, his body turning towards her. Y/N simply shakes her head. She’s utterly exhausted and doesn’t have it in her to fight with him anymore. She feels like she’s aged three lifetimes in the past few years. Y/N loves the man beside her, she truly does, but she knows that she can’t just let this cycle of hurt continue. She couldn’t just forgive Steve and pretend like he hadn’t been cheating on her because there was just so many things wrong in their relationship. Their marriage was damaged beyond repair and Y/N couldn’t find it in herself to fix it. Somethings just don’t need to be fixed and somethings-well somethings shouldn’t be fixed at all.

"Don't. Not here." Y/N tells him cooly, not wanting to fight with him in the last place that is left untouched by their deteriorating relationship. Her eyes study the small Virgin Mary engraved on her son’s grave. They had so many choices of what to put on his headstone, but something had told her to choose Mary. A remnant of her Catholic upbringing, she had told herself at the time. Now she just hoped that the Virgin was watching after her son wherever he was.

“You can keep the apartment. I didn’t even want it. I-I’ll stay upstate with Nat.” She’s leaving no room for arguing, so Steve just nods in response, putting his hands in his pockets. Y/N wanted to tell him to leave, that there was no reason for him to be standing there with her, but James was still his son too, no matter how little he seemingly cared.

So the two of them stood in silence as the cold afternoon turned into an even colder evening in December, the sky darkening quickly. Lampposts flickered on in the cemetery, covering everything in dim, eerie glow. Their breaths came out in small clouds and their toes went numb in their shoes, but they continued to stand there, looking over their son until the sky tuned black above them.

#steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers #captain america x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers

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