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#WAIT MOSTLY DO YOU KNOW 'AFTER THE STORM' YOU GOTTA LISTEN TO 'AFTER THE STORM'
twofoursixohjuan · 3 months
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Hey I lost that post but I listened to your Mumford and Sons song. It didn't quite click for me (don't be offended; it usually takes anywhere between two business days and three business years) but I am of course immediately supportive of Mumford and Sons and Vox Machina in any vague proximity
ahaha this is all part of my evil plot to make you listen to more Mumford & Sons
yeah, I just really like the idea of a Percy who is a) never quite sure he'll get the revenge he was looking for, b) even less confident that he'll survive it and c) perfectly willing to become the monster if it gives him vengeance
and then oops, shit, he's got friends
you saw no fault, no cracks in my heart and give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light and lead me back, turn south from that place and you know my call and will share my all and the ghosts that we knew will flicker from view and we'll live a long life
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meeludrawz · 2 years
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It's not your baby - Part 1
My TMNT au doesn't have an actual name ANYWHO *Ahem* I was bored so I'm writing this little thing hereuh (I'm also writing it the way I imagined it in my head so don't u dare say I have bad grammar or shit like that, I know, I did it on purpose lmao) ------------------------------------------------------------
"I have good news but also bad news" Donnie walked out of his lab/room. "Which one do you want?" His brothers were all standing in the middle of the lair. Leo took some steps forward before Mikey could even open his mouth. "Bad news first" He answered Donnie while putting a hand on Mikey's shoulder to reassure him. "Elina needs a c-section as soon as possible-" "WHAT?!" Mikey interrupted Donnie by running to him and grabbing his shoulders. "IS SHE OKAY?! IS THE BABY OKAY?!" He shook his older purple brother before turning around. "What's a c-section?" "You've gotta be fucking stupid" Raph sighed in annoyance. "It's another way to get the baby out of the stomach, it's some kind of surgery" Leo explained as much as he could so Mikey could understand. "Not exactly that but yeah, I guess" Nodded Donnie as he thanked Leo, with a nod. "Anyways, as I was saying, Elina needs a c-section as soon as possible or else that will put both her and the baby in danger" "Then what are you waiting for? Save 'em" Raph added, raising a brow. The purple-masked turtle hesitated. "What's wrong?" Asked Leo after seeing the look on his brother's face.
"I can't just open her stomach like that! There are multiple procedures and I'm not an obstetrician!" "A what" Raph and Mikey asked simultaneously, confused. Donnie looked at their leader and even Leo looked confused so he facepalmed "It's the guy who does the surgery" he groaned.
"But- But dude you know lots!" Mikey started, trying to find some examples. "You saved Leo's life!" He couldn't find anything else. "You saved us so many times!" Facing Donatello, he looked down. "Can't you save them? For me?" "Mikey, it's dangerous! I could kill them both, I never did this before! I'm sorry Mikey but I just can't do anything to save them both"
Some tears started to form in Mikey's eyes. His older brothers instantly saw them. "Mike.." The orange-masked turtle raised his face towards Donnie. "Save both of them!!" He begged as he cried. "We're NINJAS Don!! We SAVE LIVES" "Ninjas are heroes Mikey!! Not doctors!!" The two of them got a little bit too close to each other. Luckily, Elina was under a sedative, their voices wouldn't wake her up.
"Doctors are heroes too!! They save lives too!! Why can't you do it?! Why can't you see that there is no difference?!" Mikey, out of rage, pushed Donnie. Raph and Leo gasped in worry. Donnie was also shocked but flames were burning in his eyes, he was pissed. "Okay that's enough" The leader tried to separate them before it was too late. But they didn't listen, Donnie pushed back his younger brother. "I said enough!" Once again, the younger brothers didn't listen and they started fighting each other. Leo threw a glance at Raph and they both immediately separated the younger two. "HOW CAN YOU BE SO HEARTLESS?! THAT'S MY BABY IN THERE!!" Mikey screamed as the tears were flooding his face. "THAT'S NOT YOUR BABY!!" The room immediately fell silent. Mikey, Raph and Leo's eyes widened in shock. Raph and Leo let go of the younger ones and the orange-masked turtle stormed out.
----------------------------------------------------------------------- Who wants part 2? I want part 2, you'll get part 2 Also, it's not cuz Donnie doesn't wanna but because he's scared. He never "opened" someone's belly before, ya know? He knows that if he fucks up, he knows it'll affect Mikey. (Mostly if it kills Elina and her baby)
Elina Watson belongs to me and can be first seen >here<
Also Leo, Raph and Donnie still don't get how the frick Mikey has a girlfriend AND a kid before any of them Raph didn't step in at first because damn, Mikey and Donnie fighting? 👁️👄👁️🍿  And Leo.. Well, he was shocked to even see his younger brother acting like an adult so he just kinda froze
@ackalice Might interest u? Idk sorry for the ping ^^''
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virtualcarrot · 2 years
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[DE] A wild daemon!AU appears
Harry's a big man, by and large. Big voice, big arms, big belly.
Big daemon.
''For fuck's sake, how long are we supposed to have worked here, again? Where are my fucking accommodations?''
At his own desk, Vicquemare snaps a folder open and doesn't look up. ''Feel free to go wait in the goddamn stables.''
''Fuck you, Vicquemare.''
Lorraine finishes hauling herself out of the staircase with the huff of a contemptuous sniff. The twist of her snout reveals even more protruding canines and her tiny tail whips back and forth against her haunches in irritation.
Wide and stout, with a head like a truck, Lorraine is big even by boars standards.
''Harry, come on, this blows, let's get out of here.''
One corkboard stand shielding his back, Harry's desk sits in the deep end of the room. Ironically harried before a sea of paperwork, he softly shakes his head. ''Sorry Lorra, gotta finish this report.''
She clops in a circle, head thrown as far back as it will go. It doesn't amount to much, but the feeling is there. ''So fucking boring.''
A beast of instincts, she's very keen to make her feelings known. Often repeatedly. Until someone caves, someone snaps, anything to fix the bleakness of her boredom. And they've been here long enough that, on Kim's desk, the basal musk of polecat is starting to set in. Mireille's due a bath.
Kim upsets his glasses pinching the bridge of his nose. Though officer Vicquemare doesn't have any such compunctions where Harry is concerned, it is in bad form to address someone else's daemon. There's a telling intimacy to it. But Mireille is currently curled into a ball on a pile of tidied files and doesn't seem inclined to shorten her nap, and he can see that Harry's shoulders are taunt with renewed tension.
He adjusts his glasses.
''I'm afraid fixing years of incomplete reports will take some time, yes,'' he says with calculated mildness.
Lorraine snorts and stomps her hooves. Hard. On Viquemare's shoulders, Gisèle flaps her wings at the noise.
Funny, the similarities between tensions and clouds. Both have this way of gathering, under pressure, into roiling threatening storms.
Before Kim can press on, Harry breaks. He heaves a devastating sigh and makes to stand. His face is contorted in an apologetic grimace that claims to pass for a smile. ''It's okay. I'll take her for a walk."
''Absolutely not,'' Mireille snaps, quieting their corner of the room. Her head's held high, beady little eyes aimed at Harry with a laser focus. ''We did not transfer here to watch you be stuck on desk duty eternally. Get it done.'' She climbs down the desk by way of Kim's lap, little claws clicking on the floor. ''Lorraine, with me.''
They watch the heavy mass of boar sway eagerly after the sinuous squiggle of Mireille's trot until both disappear in the staircase. And then they wait, listening to the hooves' echos growing more and more distant, and eventually far away enough that they quieten.
Jean groans in relief. ''I'm getting coffee,'' he announces, pushing himself up. Before McLaine can utter one word, he stares him in the eye. ''I've only got two hands and I'll be getting a smoke, so get your own.''
And then he's gone, leaving behind the sound of sputtering and laughter. It almost covers the squeaky wheels of Harry's chair as he kicks his way towards Kim.
''Hey Kim.''
''Hm?"
"I'm sorry I called Mireille a ferret when we first met. Think she'll forgive me?''
Kim ducks to hide a smirk, pretending to riffle through his notes. The way Harry lights up, he knows he didn't quite succeed. It's okay, though. It's Harry.
''I'd say she has, Detective. But let's make headway on those reports, hm? Just to be sure. Then we can do some field work, so Lorraine can sniff out implausible clues that you will somehow tie back to the case.''
Harry grins at him, wide and unabashed. Big like his voice, arms, belly and daemon.
-
(whereas Lorraine's mostly ruled by Electrochemistry, I've decided Mireille is a concentrate of Kim's Authority)
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hyunjilicious · 4 years
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a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 3
A/n: I know it took me ages, and I'm sorry, but it's finally here!! I don't know when part 4 will be up, but I know the plot, and by the time you finish reading this, you'll know it too!! Filth is coming. Also, since I posted the first 2 parts weeks ago, under the cut you'll find a small summary of what happened so far! Ofc, I'm linking the previous parts as well! Have fun reading, sorry for taking me so long, and please, don't hesitate to tell me what you thought! (I’ll reblog it with the taglist, otherwise it doesn’t show up in the tags!)
Summary: after Henry lost it during a fit of jealousy, he sneaked into your apartment, his actions having some very different repercussions from what he initially intended. SMUT 3.9k
Warnings: please be over 18!!! mentions of smut, masturbation (male receiving), sightly/some somnophilia, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry, cum play if you squint and ofc, mentions of filming and sharing pornographic material. 18+ please!!!!
You can find part 1 here and part 2 here!
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Quick recap: Henry's crush on his very sweet and younger neighbour (you lol) grew into something else when you asked him for help with taking some pictures for your onlyfans account. Following this, your relationship reached a very teasing level, which prompted Henry to take matters into his own hands, even if that meant crossing some lines. So when he found out that you and a specific man from your past were on a voice call, he just had to know what exactly was being discussed. This jealousy fit had him using his spare key to enter your apartment and eavesdrop, and this is where chapter 2 ends. Have fun reading the next part!!!
“No” you sighed, waving your arms around, desperate to get your point across. But it was mostly useless, nothing even remotely decent would ever manage to penetrate Steve’s thick skull. He was a dumbass with a heart of gold, so you couldn’t even blame him for messing things up on purpose, you just learned the hard way not to take his advice under any circumstance. “No, Steve. I won’t do that. Not a chance!”
“Hun-” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as a smirk showed up on his lips, “When have I ever been wrong?”
“Really!?” you giggled and then sighed, “Listen, I gotta go to the bathroom and you’d better forget about this topic by the time I come back”
“Wait, wait. Ok, fine. Scratch that” Steve laughed, stopping you from getting up, “When have I ever been wrong on purpose?”
“Listen, I know you’re just trying to help” you smiled, “But I don’t think your experience in seducing girls with daddy issues benefits my situation in any kind of way”
“‘Course it does! I can give you some perspective!”
“Perspective on what?” you mocked, playfully frowning at him through the screen on your laptop, “You and Henry have nothing in common”
“The dick for one” Steve joked but when he saw you roll your eyes, he became serious, “I’m just tryin to help you hook up with the guy! That’s all”
“See!?” you laughed, already exasperated by the conversation, “I’m not trying to hook up with him, I want something more…”
Your sentence was cut short by the sound of a door closing. Your blood ran cold and your hands froze, eyes staring blankly into the camera.
“Y/n?” Steve asked with worry, “What’s wrong?”
“Wait here” you mumbled, pushing the laptop off of you and rushing to the door of your bedroom. You pressed your ear against it, and listened closely, the sound of a lock being turned chilling you to your bones. With shaky hands, you stumbled your way back to your bed, and looked into the camera, directly at a somewhat already worried Steve. “I gotta go-”
“Wait-” Steve tried to ask, “Are you-”
“Yeah, I’m fine, talk to you later” you hurriedly mumbled before ending the call. Your fingers flew across the screen of your phone, finding Henry’s name and pressing the green button in the blink of an eye.
And had he not been this utterly stupid and reckless, none of this would have happened. His impulsivity got the best of him, and panic rushed through his veins when he heard you were about to head to the bathroom. Pressure did him no good, and the first thing that came to mind at that point was to bolt out of there, knowing there was absolutely no way to explain what he was doing in your apartment. But his shaky hands were of no help, and the dexterity he earlier proved himself capable of was nowhere to be found. However, he didn’t care. He just stormed out, happy to finally breathe again as soon as he was out of your apartment - but when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he felt like dying all over again.
With your heart beating inside your throat, you grabbed your bedside lamp into your free hand, and curled yourself into a ball in the corner of your room, opposite to the door, the sound of the ongoing call being the only thing you heard over the loud buzz in your ears.
“Yeah?” Henry’s voice rang loudly when he finally answered, making you all but jump with fright.
Had you paid more attention, you’d have noticed he too sounded out of breath, but you were too out of it to tell. All you could think about was the psycho what was at your door.
“Henry-” you cried, voice shaky as the intake of air was no longer satisfying. You were hyperventilating, sweating from every pore, scared out of your mind.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice more stern now. “Y/n? Are you ok?”
“Yeah- yeah…” you said on autopilot, mind on standby. “No…” You whimpered, “Henry, can you- I think someone is trying to break into my house, I-”
“What!?” he gasped, “I’m sure no one-”
“Henry!” you cried into the phone, “Can you please look through your peephole? Please?”
He sounded confused, but you didn’t have to ask him twice. You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice reached your ears again, “There’s no one there, there’s no one at your door, you can relax”
“No-” you whimpered, unable to calm down, “Henry, please-!”
“I’m coming over right now,” he said.
“No! No, what if they’re still in the hallway?”
“There’s no one there, love” Henry tried to reassure you. When you heard him unlock the door of his apartment your heart stopped, but after that, everything was quiet. 
“Are you ok?” you muttered, wiping your nose with your sleeve.
“Yes, love. I’m fine” Henry lightly chuckled, “I’m at your door, can you open up?”
“No” you scoffed, “What if someone got in?”
“No one got in” he tried to explain, but your adrenaline soaked brain refused to comply.
“Henry, take the spare key I gave you” you suggested, “And grab a knife”
Seeing how affected and terrified you were, Henry didn’t argue with you anymore. In a matter of seconds, you heard the door of your apartment being unlocked, Henry assuring you through the phone that it was him. When he walked inside, you remained hidden in your spot. He checked the kitchen and the living room, coming up to finally enter the bedroom. When your eyes landed on his massive frame, you breathed out relieved and rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. There was no other place on Earth you felt as safe as you did when he was holding you.
“Shh, you’re ok, you’re good” Henry cooed, cradling you to his chest, “I got you, baby, ok? I’m here”
But there was no stopping you. You broke down entirely, holding onto him as your legs gave in, turning into a mess. Henry carried you to the bed, sitting you down and allowing you to calm down at your own pace.
“I’m here, ok?” he asked again, rubbing your back, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n, you know that. You’re safe, I got you”
It was impossible to tell just how long it took you to fully calm down, but it was safe to say that it would have taken hours longer had Henry not been there with you. When you were finally able to properly breathe again and hold a conversation, you looked up at him, big doe eyes hoping to convince him without too much of a fuss. “Can you stay here with me, please? I can’t be alone right now”
With nothing but sympathy in his eyes, Henry leaned down and kissed your forehead, “Don’t you think it would be better if we went over to my place instead?”
“No” you shook your head, “And leave the apartment unattended? I don’t think that’s a good idea”
His heart broke. Being his usual, impulsive self, Henry managed to break you down and terrify you to your core. As much as he wanted to reassure you everything would be fine, he couldn’t. He couldn’t just tell you it was him who broke into your apartment in the middle of a jealousy breakdown. So, he settled for the second best option, and really, he couldn’t complain.
It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday, no locksmith on the clock. Seeing how you’d have to wait until the next morning, he was more than happy to spend that time with you.
As time started to pass, you also started to relax. 
The day slowly wilted a way, as both you and Henry made yourselves busy around your apartment. He wasted a couple of hours installing games on your school laptop as you took a bath, he then cooked you dinner, and by the time the night rolled around, you were your usual bubbly self again. And after watching and laughing your hearts out at Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets, sleep started to creep up on you.
Henry placed one of your kitchen chairs under the doorknob before turning to give you a massive hug, “No one can get in, darling. I promise”
“Thank god you live across the hall” you confessed, snaking your arms under his hoodie as you gathered yourself as close to him as possible. “What would I have done otherwise?”
“You don’t have to worry about that” Henry kissed your forehead, “I’ll always be here when you need me”
And in that moment, right there, stopping yourself from kissing him turned out to be the most difficult thing you ever had to do. Instead, you settled for his cheek, before hiding your face against his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too”
“Thank you, angel” Henry breathed out.
There really was nothing on this earth you loved more than this man. 
Getting ready to go to sleep, you changed in your pajamas, while all Henry did was take off his hoodie. With your toothbrush lodged between your teeth, you lingered in the door frame, watching the muscles of his back flex as he bent down and put his phone down to charge.
Toothpaste and drool could very well have dribbled down your chin as you stood and gawked, only releasing you were staring when Henry turned around and a smile made its way up his lips. “Yes?” he laughed, but all you did was look him up and down, before returning to the bathroom with a shake of your head.
“Oh, Y/n?” Henry called again, following you, “Where can I find a blanket or some sheets?”
First you squinted, but then you decided it would be best if you just finished brushing your teeth before anything else. After rinsing your mouth, you turned to look at him, utterly unamused. “What for?”
“So I don’t have to sleep on leather?”
“You’re sleeping with me” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his elbow and dragging him into the bathroom so he could get ready for bed too. “Not up for discussion”
“Ok” Henry chuckled, looking at you in the mirror. “But I snore”
As if that would make you reconsider. You walked away and into your room, settling under the covers, without another word. About 10 minutes later, Henry joined you.
He fit in like a piece of puzzle and you didn’t even try to keep yourself from cuddling into his side. Sinking his head down between the multitude of pillows on your bed, you giggled, crawling on top of him. Without thinking too much about it, you kissed your way down his neck, peppering tens of kisses against his naked chest. You felt his heartbeat under your palm as he breathed in and out slowly, smiling down at you as he enjoyed the view.
“Thanks for doing this for me” you mumbled, rubbing your hand up and down his chiseled abdomen.
“Really, Y/n” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you, “There’s no need to thank me. Plus, you think I’m not enjoying this?”
“Oh shut up” you giggled. The amount of small talk that followed turned out to be exactly what you needed in order to allow your eyes to peacefully close. Despite the events of earlier in the evening, you now felt safer than ever before.
It was just a matter of time until soft snores started escaping past your lips, your chest rising and falling every so softly as you drifted out of consciousness.
But Henry’s mind was nowhere near relaxed enough to drift off. No. You were too close to him, too innocent and vulnerable for him to just let this moment pass. The way you had just thrown one of your legs over his lap drove him insane - your bare thigh too accessible to him.
At first, he just tested the waters. A peck to the top of your head, and a small caress against the back of your hand. You were completely out, and that accentuated his need further.
Slowly moving his free arm down his body, Henry brushed his fingers over his clothed member, grunting out loud when he felt the sensibility in his tip. He bit into his bottom lip out of need to keep quiet, teasing himself just a little as he struggled to decide how to go about things. With the way you were laying right now, it was next to impossible for him to free himself without moving you. And even though at the beginning he tried to avoid that, when you stirred in your sleep, your body rubbing up against his, he lost all kinds of patience.
As softly as he could, Henry pushed your leg back, just a little. Even in your sleep, you craved his touch, as when you felt movement, you involuntarily shuffled closer, but much to his relief, your legs remained on the mattress.
Eagerness controlled his actions as he pushed his pants down his thighs, propping his hips up with difficulty. When his underwear was pulled down and his cock sprung free, Henry hissed with unmatched satisfaction. With his hand wrapped around his base and his eyes on you, he swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest with a demented sense of bliss.
"My baby-" Henry cooed, rubbing his lips across your hairline as he started stroking his cock.
His movements were slow but not calculated in any way. His brain was occupied, forcing his hand to work on muscle memory. But still, he teased himself, rubbing his thumb across his slit just like he liked to think you would. 
The fear of getting caught was at an all time high as you stirred again. He froze for a second, "That's my good girl-" Henry whispered, looking down at your sleeping frame. As much as he wanted you to take an active part in this, he knew better than to risk it. 
It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, his back sweating profusely as he pumped himself closer to the edge. His hips bucked, causing the bed frame to creak. Instantly, he stilled, eyes on you, but all you did was rub your cheek against his chest, completely unaware of your surroundings.
"I'm so close for you, my darling" Henry groaned, his throat paper dry as the words left his lips. All he could hear was his own breathing and the unmistakable perverse sound of slapping skin, but still, even above all of that, you kept on peacefully snoring. 
The arm Henry looped around your frame was now traveling lower, his palm exploring your side until he reached your ass. He softly gripped a handful of your bum, squeezing hard enough to make up for the struggle of not allowing himself to finish too early. But it was reckless and maybe he shouldn't have done so, as his touch all but woke you up. 
Still overwhelmed with sleep, you barely pushed yourself up, eyes closed as you slightly changed your position. You were now laying higher up his body, your head almost falling off his shoulder. Your breathing tickled the side of his neck as you snaked your arm up and looped it around his frame. Biting down hard on his bottom hip, Henry felt ridiculous amounts of blood rush to the tip of his cock as you refused to settle already.
Rubbing the tip of your nose across his jugular, still mostly out but not fully, you peaked your eyes open, “Henry-?”
“Y- yeah?” he swallowed thickly, freezing in his spot.
“Why’re you awake?” you mumbled.
“Just woke up- had a weird dream, that’s all”
You believed the lie without an ounce of doubt, “Wanna talk about it?”
“Yes” he whispered, “But in the morning. Sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep, darling”
“Ok” you sighed, kissed his bare shoulder and allowed yourself to drift off again.
Henry licked his lips in a haze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as sweat worked his entire body. God, how he regretted getting himself in his position, but his cock was full on hard, all but leaking at the tip, not so patiently waiting to receive any kind of attention again. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes on you to make sure you were asleep. 
His heart skipped a beat as your mouth popped open, but your light snores came as the strongest form of reassurance, and he resumed his work. The anxiety of getting caught fueled him, and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress, his hips bucking upwards as he furiously pumped his cock.
It was all getting too much. He was close. Henry threw his head back trying to suppress a moan, but he miserably failed. A choked back wail escaped his now dry lips as his whole body tensed. He squeezed you closer, his fingers lewdly digging into the sweet flesh of your ass. He was crossing many lines but that didn't stop him. He didn't see things clear anymore. His chest heaved, rushing up and down as he fisted his cock, biting into his lower lip as he watched your peaceful expression. 
It was pure, dumb luck that he managed to spot a pack of napkins laying on the night stand mere seconds before he came. His juices eagerly ran down his shaft as he flew through his orgasm, his saviour napkin proving almost useless. 
Coming down from his high, he all but managed to calm down, but his mind was still set. He would never get enough of you. And no matter how many times he'd cum, he'd still be down to go again. You had that power over him.
"Fuck…" Henry panted. And in the blur of the moment he created, he didn't even stop to process his thoughts. Gathering the few droplets of cum that landed on his stomach, he brought his hand up to your face, his thumb rubbing across your lips. 
In that moment, then and there, when you unconsciously wrapped your lips around his finger, he almost lost it all over again. 
"Holy-" he cried again, kissing your forehead. As eager and willing as he was to keep going, Henry stopped himself. He tucked the napkins next to the foot of the bed, pulled his pants back up his hips and settled under the covers. 
Sleep didn't come easy, but he eventually drifted off. Unfortunately, the clock had almost struck 3am by the time he closed his eyes, and no later than 6:15, your alarm went off.
"No" you protested, wiggling around in search of your phone. "No school- no, thank you"
Eyes closed and cheek squished into the pillow, Henry raised his arm and found the phone with ease, handing it to you without a word.
Squinting under the bright light of the screen, you dismissed the alarm and snuggled back into Henry's chest, his arms wrapping around your body in an instant.
And as heavenly as this felt, it only lasted for about 5 minutes, until your alarm went off again. 
"Just turn it off" Henry laughed, kissing your forehead, "I'll wake you up after I make breakfast"
"You don't have to" you protested, throwing in a whine or two as you curled yourself around him.
"I want to"
"No"
"Y/n…"
"Ok fine" you sighed, "Thank you"
"No need darling" Henry chuckled and stood up. He once again pecked the top of your head and then he was gone. About one second and a half later, you were asleep again, only to complain when Henry woke you up.
"It's 7" he stated, gathering the blanket in his arms and allowing the cold air to reach your body.
"Give it back" you cried.
"Is that how it's gonna be?" Henry threatened, and despite his dominating tone, you still refused to take him seriously. When you hid your face between the pillows, he deeply sighed, but satisfaction was still audible in his tone. "Fine then"
Taking you completely by surprise, Henry bent down and gathered you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder with absolute ease.
"Henry-" you yelled, "The fuck-"
"Not gonna be late, Y/n" Henry laughed, "Not on my watch"
"God" you giggled along and allowed yourself to be carried to the kitchen. 
As soon as he walked out of the bedroom, a delicious smell reached your nose. It was probably the first real breakfast you'd had in weeks, so you weren't going to complain anymore. Fresh coffee, toast, avocado, pancakes, hard boiled eggs and a multitude of veggies and fruit awaited on the table.
"I didn't even know I had all this food in my house"
"You didn't-" Henry shook his head, sitting down beside you, "Grabbed them from my place"
"You shouldn't have, but thank you"
"No need" he assured you, "Dig in"
When you were done, and right before you headed to the bathroom to get ready, you turned to him again. "Do you know the number of any locksmiths? I really wanna change the locks"
Following a quick Google search, Henry found a multitude of ads, and after choosing the most trustworthy looking one, he dialed the number as you patiently waited beside him.
Everything seemed to go perfectly well, until he frowned, "No, today pl- [...] No, I'm not locked out of my- [...] You sure-? Ok, ok fine. Ok, tomorrow, first thing, ok, thanks"
"They can't come today?" you pouted as soon as he hung up.
"No, I'm sorry" Henry shook his head, and seeing the disappointment plastered on your face, he spoke up again. "I can stay one more night, if you want to. I'll sleep in the living room-"
"What? No" you scoffed, "It's not that…"
"What is it then?" he questioned, starting to get worried.
You hesitated. "Its no-"
"Don't tell me it's nothing" Henry commanded, pointing a finger at you. A smile appeared at the corner of your lips as you rolled your eyes.
"Ok, fine. I just- I just had to film today for the- you know… That's all, but I can do it some other day"
Henry didn't answer until a smirk tilted the corner of his lips upwards. "Or I could help you?"
"Help me?" you gawked.
"Yeah" he nonchalantly shrugged, "Helped you once before, didn't I?"
"You sure?"
"Yeah" he smiled, "Only if you me want to, of course"
Your knees weakened and your heart was beating in all the wrong ways, so all you managed to do was giggle and shake your head in disbelief. "Well, yeah... I want to"
How were you going to tell him that the video was supposed to be of you fucking yourself with a baby pink dildo? And how exactly was he going to help? You had a long day ahead of you and the ridiculous amounts of school work you had to get done in the meantime didn't allow you to give these questions any kind of priority. All you wanted was for the evening to come around already even if you sweated profusely just at the thought of what was to come.
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Text
COSMIC - S1:E6; Chapter Six, The Monster - [Pt. 1]
A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series
𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘌𝘭𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘠/𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘋𝘶𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘌𝘭𝘴𝘦𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘰𝘺𝘤𝘦 𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘣’𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.
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|| 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
Joyce and Hopper sat opposite one another at the kitchen table of the Byers' home. The house was cold and hardly lit, copies of newspaper clippings scattered all around the house. One of the only light sources was a dusty chandelier that hung from the kitchen ceiling above the table and their heads, illuminating the several papers.
"Look, we gotta go through this again." Joyce insisted.
"I told you everything that I saw."
"Oh, gosh," she sighs into her hands. "Tell me again."
"Upstairs or downstairs?" Hopper asked.
"Upstairs."
"There was a laboratory. It was where they must do experiments or something, and then there was... well you see, like I said, I got turned around."
Hopper was currently sharing all he had encountered on his rogue mission at Hawkins National Laboratory. Joyce, all the while was hanging on his every word.
"I told you, it was like, I don't know, it wasn't supposed to exist. That whole area, it was abandoned and... forgotten, like it was all some big mistake. Once I found my way back, I saw that... kid's room. That other kid's room, I mean. Like it was actually used, but it didn't even look like a kid's room, neither of them did. It looked like a prison."
Hopper sighed and rubbed the bottom of his palms into his eyes tiredly, is fingers held the lit cigarette inches away from his face as he did so. "If that even makes sense,"
"Well," Joyce began, trying to get to the bottom of this never ending mystery. "So why would you think it was a kid's room, then?"
"Because, I told you, the size of the bed, there was a drawing, there was a stuffed animal--"
Joyce interrupted the man quickly. "Y-You didn't say there was a drawing."
"Yeah, there was a drawing of a... an adult and a child. It said 'Eleven' on it."
"Was it good?" Joyce pressed.
"It was a kid's drawing, Joyce. It was stick figures."
Joyce had a knowing look on her face as she stood up with a sigh, retrieving a piece of crinkled line paper and slammed it down on the table for Hopper to see.
She pointed to the detailed drawing as she sat back down.
"Wasn't Will." She stated confidently, shakily bringing the cigarette back up to her lips.
Hopper examined the drawing and everything seemed to click. He returned his gaze to the anxious mother. Hopper quickly put out his cigarette in the ashtray and made a beeline for the coffee table.
"Earl..." he muttered, as he made his way into the living room. Joyce, who had abandoned her cigarette, was right on his heels.
"The night that Benny died, Earl said he saw some kid with a shaved head with Benny," Hopper and Joyce took a seat beside one another on the living room couch, Hopper's eyes fixed on the several news clippings splayed along the wooden coffee table. "Now, I pressed him, he said it might be Will, but maybe..."
The man began shifting through the papers, and Joyce spoke up.
"Wait... Maybe, it wasn't?"
Hopper pulled the article he had been looking for and pointed to the fuzzy photograph of the woman in the article.
"Look... this woman, Terry Ives, she claims to have lost her daughter, Jane. She sued Brenner, she sued the government... Now, the claims came to nothing, but what if... I mean, what if this whole time I've been... I've been looking for Will... I've been chasing after some other kid?"
|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||
Everything is a mess.
Will is still missing, the party is falling apart, Mike and Lucas are still angsty messes that won't speak to one another, and now, El left us. She probably thinks I hate her.
'But I don't! I was just scared'
(Ok but like,,,, who else ships El and reader cause damn I've been giving myself feels lately, dang)
'We need to fix this'
I sigh and sit up from my bed and make my my way to Dustin's room.
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
"I just... I can't believe she didn't come back." Mike sighed.
Dustin and I agreed we needed to talk some sense into the rest of the party. So we got our bikes and made our way to Mike's. Dustin was standing opposite Mike while I currently occupied one of the D&D chairs I had pulled up. Mike was worriedly pacing the floor in front of us.
"She's gotta be close." Dustin offered.
"She said it wasn't safe. She just messed up the compasses because she wanted to protect us. She didn't betray us."
"Mike, calm down."
Mike only ignored Dustin and kept talking, more to himself than anybody it seemed.
"I shouldn't have yelled at her. I never should've done that."
"Mike, this isn't your fault." Dustin said.
"Yeah, it's Lucas'."
"It wasn't his fault, either." Dustin countered softly.
For the first time in what felt like ages, Mike stopped in his tracks. He looked at my brother dumbfounded and took a few steps in his direction. "It wasn't his fault?"
"No."
"So you're saying he wasn't way out of line?"
"Totally, but so were you!"
"What?"
"And so was Eleven."
"That's ridiculous! Y/n, tell him he's being ridiculous!"
Very calmly, I stood up with my arms crossed and stood next to my brother, and sighed, eyes fixed on Mike. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but Dustin is absolutely right."
Mike seemed even more furious. "Oh, give me a break!"
Dustin snapped at these words and stormed up to Mike. "No, Mike, you give me a break! All three of you were being a bunch of little assholes! Y/n and I were the only reasonable ones! But the bottom line is... you pushed first. And you know the rules. You draw first blood..."
"No! No way! I'm not shaking his hand."
"You're shaking his hand." I press, stepping forward.
He was sure to make eye contact with me over Dustin's shoulder as he spoke. "No, I'm not."
So I strode toward him and gave him a slight glare.
"This isn't a discussion. This is the rule of law. Obey or be banished from the party. Do you wanna be banished?" I asked firmly.
Mike crossed his arms and pouted before speaking up meekly. "No."
"Good!" I chirp, my face beaming as if we hadn't just been fighting which seem to only terrify him more.
I all but skipped over to the chair grabbing my coat, Dustin following my actions.
"Where are we going?" Mike asked with a hint of frustration.
"Where do you think?" Dustin asked as he put his arms through the sleeves of his coat.
"We're going to get Lucas." I finished, straightening my jacket then looked back to Mike.
My face softened and I tilted my head slightly. "And then we're gonna find Eleven."
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
The three of us stood on Lucas's porch and I rang the doorbell. We stood waiting until the door swung open and Lucas stood there glaring at all three of us, but mostly Mike.
"What do you want?" He spit, resting his hands in his pockets.
There was brief silence which was then interrupted by a muffled smack of Dustin hitting Mike in the arm.
Mike sighed softly and looked to Lucas, clearly hating every second of this.
"I drew first blood, so..." he extended his hand for Lucas to shake but Lucas didn't move.
Great. Of course nobody was going to make anything easy. Why would they?
⊹ ⊹ ⊹
Somehow I had convinced Lucas to let us all in and now, we all stood in the middle of his living room as he paced silently across the floor considering Mike's offer. He finally stopped and stared at the three of us.
"Okay, I'll shake."
Mike sighed what I barely made out to be a "finally" as he extended his arm out once more. Dustin and I perked up, that was until Lucas continued.
"On one condition. We forget the weirdo and go straight to the gate." He finished, arms crossed defiant.
"Then the deal's off." Mike barked.
"Fine!"
"Fine!"
"No, no, not fine! Guys seriously?" Dustin yelled, as I threw my head back frustrated.
Dustin forced Mike to face him as he spoke. "Do you even remember what happened on the Bloodstone Pass?"
Lucas and Mike shared a confused glance.
Dustin seemed shocked and offended that they had no recollection and continued.
"We couldn't agree on what path to take, so we all split up the party and those trolls took us out one by one. And it all went to shit. And we were all disabled! So we stick together, no matter what!"
"Yeah, I agree. But this is the party, right here in this room."
"El is one of us now."
"Um, no, she's not. Not even close! Never will be. She's a liar, a traitor--"
"She was just trying to keep us safe! She didn't mean to hurt you. It was an accident!"
"An accident?"
"All right, accident or not... admit it, it was a little awesome." Dustin said.
"Awesome?"
"Yeah, she threw you in the air with her mind!"
"I could have been killed!"
"Would everybody just shut up for one second, please!" I snap.
Everybody looks to me, a shocked expression on their faces.
I step forward and begin my long awaited  rant.
"I am sick of your attitude." I point at Lucas. "I am sick of your whining." I point to Mike. "I am sick of all three of you bickering," I gesture to all of them. "I love you guys and I can't thank you enough for taking me in and including me, know that, but GOD I am tired of being stuck listening to you boys argue about every little thing!"
I myself began pacing, my voice continuously rising. "I'm sick of putting up with all your petty arguing when we should be looking for Will only to come home at the end of the day, having found NOTHING and crying my eyes out because the only person who never gave a shit about who started what is missing and probably dead!"
I stopped pacing and looked to the boys who were all silent. I sighed and lowered my voice. "Lucas, you're right. You could have been killed. Which is exactly why we need her. She is more powerful than all of us combined."
"Y/n's right. Do you seriously wanna fight the Demogorgon with your wrist rocket?" Mike said, anger still in his voice. "That's like R2-D2 going to fight Darth Vader. We're no use to Will if we're dead."
Lucas looked torn for a moment, but then he shook his head and pointed at the three of us. There was disappointment in his voice. "If you three wanna waste your time looking for a traitor, go ahead, 'cause I'm not spending my time on her anymore. No way!"
I sighed, putting my face in my hands. Lucas continued.
"I'm going to the gate. I'm going to find Will."
Lucas shoved the boys aside and stormed off, leaving the three of us alone in more ways than one.
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migilini · 4 years
Text
Give Me Attention - Charlie Gillespie
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summary: Zoomcalls Classes with a bored Charlie
a/n: a/n: Don't quite know what this is but it was stuck in my head so here ya go.
words: 1.5k
warnings: some arguing, cursewords and pure fluff
Requests are open :)
MASTERLIST
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Most of the time if someone asked how living with Charlie went you answered with ‘great, literally so amazing, he brings a smile to my face every day. And you meant it, at least most of the time. You loved the way he was awake long before you even dare to open your eyes and the fact that because of that there was always a freshly made coffee just waiting for you on the counter. You loved the way that he danced in the kitchen with you while he cooked dinner and the way the bedsheets always smelled like him. Yet, you weren’t gonna lie, especially the first couple of corona moths have taken a little toll on your relationship.
“Charlie, do you have to rehearse your lines in the living room?” you asked irritated, crossing your legs under the kitchen table you currently sat at.
“But here I have the most space to move around. I gotta move around. You also said that we can go over our lines together.” he whined from the living room. At this moment you cursed the fact that you had moved into an apartment with a connected kitchen and living room. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and it was, especially when you had friends over, but right now it was only trouble.
“I know babe, but I have this essay due tomorrow and I haven't had the chance to start because we’ve been on set and in so many meetings.”
“Then you work somewhere else?”
“This is the only room with a table!” you protested, gesturing to the table your school books, notes and laptop were scattered on.
“You chose to pursue acting and finish your degree!” he shot back, getting worked up over this simple thing. The hurt flashed in your eyes making him instantly regret his words.
“I’m sorry that my education is important to me Charlie and that I wanted to finish my last one and a half years at College.” You stood up and grabbed your things “Have fun running your lines.” Charlie only heard the bedroom door slam shut and winced at the sound.
He knew better than to immediately run after you, so he waited about ten minutes before approaching. He knocked on the door and leaned on the doorframe. “Baby come back out. I’m sorry. It's just...I had a bad day, couldn't remember any of my lines, and even though we live together I feel like we rarely see each other... both so busy with the show and I… I don't know, I let my frustration out on you.”
The door opened and you hugged him tightly “I’m sorry as well. I could've just worn headphones. I’m stressed and let it out on you as well. I’m so sorry.” you muttered into his chest.
Charlie kissed your head and asked, “Can I help you with College stuff?”
Arguments like these happened a lot during the starting months of the pandemic. Both of you stressed and tired, basically working your asses off and still trying to be caring for one another. It wasn't all sunshine and rainbows but after a storm of an argument, the clouds faded away and the sun came back out.
During the timespan from April to August, your boyfriend was bored, very bored. There sadly weren't many acting opportunities, there was not much to do in general and the press tour for JATP was scheduled after its release in September. You on the other hand had lots to do with school, participating in online classes, catching up on the material you missed last semester, writing essays and studying.
“Babeee…” he whined and propped his head up behind your laptop screen so just his eyes looked over it. “Watcha doiinn?”
“Pack it up Isabella…” you grinned at him “Currently working on a project due next week and I have a class in five minutes”
“What class?” he popped his head up a bit more, his whole face hovering just slightly in front of you. “Economics.”
“Boooriiing” he dragged out and rolled his eyes “Don’t you wanna do something more fun? Like Wii bowling, cooking, me.” he wiggled his eyebrows at you.
“As tempting as that sounds, I can't, this class is really important...sorry bubbs.” you looked up at him apologetically and pushed your computer glasses up your nose.
“Fine” he sulked, “give me a kiss and I'll leave you alone.”
You smiled and went to lean closer to his face, with one hand he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you closer. One kiss, two kisses, three kisses later, you tried to pull back. “One more,” he muttered against your lips and you caved.
And he really did leave you alone until you were done with all your classes. But another day meant another day full of classes and work. You quickly build your own little routine. Charlie still woke up earlier than you and greeted you in the kitchen with a smile, a coffee and a kiss. Then he would go on a run and you would start your first couple classes. He would come back, shower, prepper your face with ‘motivation kisses and then try to get your attention for the rest of the day.
++
“Braid my hair.” he wailed like a little kid and put his head on your lap. You looked down at him for a split second, your hand immediately tangled in his hair.
“That can’t be comfortable for you.” You chuckled and scanned his figure, the side of his right hip on the chair next to you, both arms and legs hanging loosely to the ground, his head on your lap.
“It totally is,” he muttered, barely audible because his face was nuzzled between your crossed legs.
“If you say so bubbs,” you said and tried not to laugh, your fingers playing with some strands of hair.
“Miss Y/LN what is the answer to question 4?” the professor asked you and totally ripped you out of your thoughts. “Oh shit...class.” you cursed and looked over your notes before unmuting yourself “the national bank sir?” you tried but it sounded more like a question than a confident answer.
“I know you're sitting at home and this is a difficult situation for all of us but don’t get distracted. We don't want your grades slipping…” you nodded and shot charlie a quick look. He half layed on your lap for the rest of the day, drawing little patterns on your legs, occasionally he got up to get a glass of water or some notebooks for you.
You liked to say that he annoyed you and sometimes he really did but you mostly found it endearing. But he did know how to distract you.
“I’m gonna work out here alright?” he questioned and put down his weights he took out of a closet in the hall. To focused on your note writing, your professor's voice ringing through the room you only nodded your head and barely looked up.
As your professor started to ramble on and on about a topic that you already had last semester, your eyes started to wander through the room and got stuck on a particular thing. The thing was working out and still looked absolutely delicious, he was currently lifting weights and his cake was on full display for you.
A tone shift of your professor brought you back to the zoom class but it didn't take long for you to be distracted again. After his workout, Charlie showered and was now just casually chilling shirtless on the couch a couple of feet away from you. His new tattoo shining brightly in your direction.
“What is more important than my class Miss Y/LN?” the same teacher that always catches you slacking piped up. Charlie's head shot up and he winked at you. “J-just a bird,” you said shyly, your cheeks heating up.
Not even ten minutes later, there was a movement in the corner of your camera. You tried to ignore it and listen to one of your classmates' presentations.
“You also want a coffee?” Charlie asked you over the counter.
“Yes please.” you shot him a thumbs up.
Whilst the coffee machine was rattling in the background, your classmate finished the presentation and that meant that it was your turn. Time Management was never you and Charlie's strength and so just as you were in the spotlight option of the call, Charlie walked up behind you.
“Char..I-” you tried to stop him.
“Here is your coffee ma love,” he said lovingly, still shirtless by the way, bending down to give you a kiss on your shoulder before placing the cup on your table. You awkwardly froze and stared at the screen in front of you.
“That’s a funny bird.” was all that your professor said while another classmate piped up with a “He’s kinda hot.”
“So uhm…” you chuckled, your cheeks and ears bright red. “I choose this topic because…”
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mammonshuman92 · 3 years
Text
- Watched - Pt.4
(Mammon x GN!MC)
** TW: swearing, kidnapping, religion, abuse, blood, death (if I missed any I do apologize!)
He smiled wickedly as he turned around, going back to the table he’d been at earlier and picked up the same knife he’d held to you when he kidnapped you. The only other weapons you could see on the table were a baton and a taser. There was also a thick book you could only assume was a bible and a large jar of water. The most concerning however, was the gas can, thick work gloves, and what looked a lot like a body bag.
“This may call for a more extensive purification.”
-
Your heartbeat quickened, breathing becoming slightly erratic. Your eyes widened at the scene laid out before you, but you tried your best to hold your resolve. 
Whatever he plans to do, even if this is where your time on this Earth comes to an end, you didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction of conforming to his insane, backwoods ideologies. For your most beloved demons, and the love of your life, you were ready to fight until the bitter end.
After leaving the coffee shop, Mammon made his way back to your house to come up with a plan. As he rushed back, he got a brilliant idea and immediately made a phone call. 
Given their status and connections, he was sure that at least a few of his brothers would be able to dig up info on this Alex dude and the ATA, however he couldn’t risk any of them finding out what was going on, for fear it’d get back to Lucifer, so he had to be extremely careful.
“Ugh, what do you want, Mammon? I’m in the middle of a raid right now.”
Levi seemed like the least likely to get too curious and ask questions, especially since Mammon was the one asking. No way would Levi want to end up being part of one of his usual schemes. And since he rarely comes out of his room or socializes with others, Levi was definitely the best one for the job. 
“I need a favor.” Mammon could hear the slight clacking sound of Levi’s controller in the background.
“Nope. No way. Your “favors” always end badly; for everyone involved. Goodbye.” He declined immediately, wanting to hang up and get back to his raid.
“Wait, Levi! It’s real important!” The second born begged. Levi could hear the desperation; the emotion in his brothers voice. His interest was piqued now, along with an uneasy feeling in his stomach.
“What is it?” He asked with a sigh, casting his controller aside.
“I need ya to dig into a group called the ATA.”
“ATA?”
“Yeah, it’s the “Anti Treaty Association”, they’re in the human world. And see if ya can find anythin’ on a guy named Alex who might be associated with ‘em.”
“Anti Treaty..? As in the peace treaty? Mammon, what did you-”
“I’ll explain everythin’ later, okay? Just.. please, Levi? I need ya to look into it.” The level of sheer desperation in Mammon’s voice was concerning, but he didn’t push the issue.
“Okay, okay. Hang on..” 
The sound of Levi’s fingers rapidly clicking across his keyboard flooded Mammon’s ears for the next few minutes.
“Okay, so the group was founded not long after the Devildom exchange program was formally announced. They started small but grew in number quickly; looks like mostly religious extremists. They hold protests at any event involving relations between our world and the human world. Let’s see..” Levi  went quiet for a few seconds as he scanned his monitor.
“It looks like some of the members have a clean record, aside from a couple parking tickets, but there are a few bad apples. Most of the charges consist of harassment, disorderly conduct and destruction of property, all of the incidents taking place at protests. All of them were first time offenders, and have stayed out of trouble since then.”
“Anythin’ about an Alex?”
“Hmm, nope. Do you have a last name maybe? Or literally any other info? I can’t do much with just a first name, especially a common one.”
“Umm, he drives a really old car and he works at a take out place as a delivery driver.” Mammon proceeded to give him the name of the restaurant.
Levi began tapping away on his keyboard again, scanning all the social medias and websites associated with the group and the take out place, looking for anything related to the clues Mammon gave him. Without much to go on, he wasn’t very hopeful and began to lose courage, then he finally got something.
“I got a hit on a few social media accounts related to the ATA. I was able to find some pictures with a crappy older model car in them that were taken at some of their protests a few months back, one of the pictures had a shot of the license plate. After doing a quick search of public record, the car came back as registered to a John A. Smith, who actually died a few years back..” 
Mammon sighed, feeling dejected. That information was all he had, and it may not have even been enough to be helpful.
“Wait..” Levi suddenly said, pulling Mammon from his thoughts.
“His obituary says he had one child; a son named John Smith Jr. I can’t find him on social media under that name, but if we assume the middle initial “A” stands for say, Alexander, then I may have something. I found an Alex Smith, and it’s honestly gotta be him. He’s a member of the official ATA group page, and several others like it. His profile picture has a crappy looking car in it, granted it’s mostly cropped out, but it looks a lot like the one I ran the license plate number on. I’m confident that this is your guy.”
Mammon felt like he could breathe a little easier. Another piece of the puzzle had, hopefully, come together.
“Where do I find him?”
“Not sure. His last location was near the middle of nowhere, but it hasn’t pinged anything for quite some time. I’ll send you the coordinates.”
“Thanks, Levi. I owe ya big time.”
“Yeah. Uh, Mammon? I know you said you’d tell me later, but is everything alright? You’ve never asked me to do something like this before. It kinda feels like you’re looking for someone..”
He waited for his brother to stutter out some kind of excuse to explain it away like he always did when he got himself into some kind of trouble, but he didn’t. Which only made more red flags pop up for Levi.
“If anyone asks, especially Lucifer, this never happened and ya haven’t heard from me, okay?”
“Yeah. Okay, Mammon..”
He didn’t like the feeling he had, the gut instinct and the hair that stood up on the back of his neck that told him something was seriously wrong.
After he hung up with his brother, he decided to dig a little deeper. He traced Mammon’s phone and found him at a location nearby the restaurant he’d had him research. His awful, suspicious feeling was confirmed when his brother’s location came back as one in the human world. A little extra digging of public land records and it pinged as your house. His heart sank as he thought about the urgency and desperation in his brother’s voice. 
He traced your phone, but it just showed the same location as Mammon. But, if you were there, why would he be so frantic? His stomach churned when he realized that there were only a few things that would cause Mammon such distress, and seeing as how he was apparently in the human world, at your house, desperate to find some random dude, it couldn’t be good. Whatever was going on definitely involved you. That thought alone made him sick to his stomach.
“I hope I’m wrong. Please be okay, MC.”
-
*bzzz* *bzzz*
Mammon opened the new text message from Levi, which contained the coordinates to Alex’s last known location.
“MC has gotta be somewhere near this location. If not, maybe I’ll be able to pick up their trail.” 
He was pacing around the living room, going over possible plans for his next move. Thankfully it would be dark soon and there was also a pretty big storm rolling in, which would provide the perfect cover for him to scout from the skies. Heavy wind and rain would make it nearly impossible to pick up your scent though.
He went into your bedroom to retrieve something of yours that would be heavy with your scent, like your favorite jacket or maybe a pillowcase. As he looked around the room, he spotted a strip of pictures shoved in the frame of the mirror on your dresser. A warm smile spread across his face.
It was of the two of you, not too long after you’d officially started dating. He remembered that particular day very well. You’d decided to walk the cobblestone streets of the Devildom, much like you often did together, but this was different. There wasn’t anymore of that “trying to pretend neither one of you had feelings for the other” junk. It was just..real. You were actually his. He reminisced about how warm your hand felt in his, the way his stomach erupted in butterflies when you looked at him with pure excitement after you’d stumbled upon the photo booth. The way you threw yourself at him, locking your lips onto his for the last picture; the shade of red your cheeks turned when you pulled apart.
That day was one of his favorite memories of you. You were so happy and full of life; looking at him with such excitement and love.
The haunting reality came creeping back in on him, sending his beautiful trip down memory lane, spiraling into despair. There he stood, alone in your bedroom, while you were gone. Taken, by some psychopath. His whole world, snatched right from underneath him as he sat down the hall.
The more he thought about it, the worse he felt. How could he? He should’ve been there. He shouldn’t have let you answer the door. He should’ve done something, anything. 
“I knew somethin’ didn’t feel right, and I should’ve listened to what my gut was tryin’ to tell me. This is all my fault..” He ran his finger over the pictures on the mirror, letting a few tears escape before aggressively wiping them away. 
“I will find ya, MC. And I promise that I’ll make ya safe again, I swear it.”
He felt a sudden vibration in the floor followed quickly by a deep rumble from outside.
The storm’s comin’. It’s time to move.
He grabbed the shirt you had worn the day before from the hamper and quickly smelled it to make sure your scent was strong enough. From the way it made his heart twist in agony, he was sure it would do just fine.
He shifted into demon form and headed straight for the door. With the approaching storm, it was dark enough now that he could fly and remain unseen. Since he was by himself and up against the unknown, having the element of surprise would come in handy.
“When I find that piece of shit, he’ll understand why I hold the rank of the second strongest of the Avatars.” He growled into the dark of the night as he stepped out onto the front porch.
With that, he shot up into the night sky, stealthy and silent.
-
“Extensive purification? Is that what the body bag is for?” You asked audaciously.
Naturally, you were scared. This mad man kidnapped you at your own damn house in broad daylight and drug you to what you could only assume was the middle of nowhere to tie you up and torture you. So yeah, you were pretty fucking wigged out to say the least.
But, did that mean you would back down? Let him know you were scared so he had the extra control over you? Make him feel like he was winning?
Absolutely not. You’d never give him the satisfaction. On the inside you were shaking, writhing in terror; begging for Mammon to come and save you. But on the outside? You were taking none of his shit, and playing zero games. If you were going to die here, you planned on going out as uncooperative as you could. Fuck him.
“Hopefully it won’t come to that.” He turned around to face you from where he’d been at his make shift work table, with the taser in his hand. He closed the gap between you, keeping his eyes locked on yours, and leaned down until he was just inches from your face. “The night is still young though.”
“Then why not just kill me now? Get it over with.”
“I want to cleanse you; save your soul.” He said, as if you were crazy for not grasping that concept.
“But why? Why are you so worried about my soul? You prodded.
“Because you have chosen to lay with demons and abandon your humanity.”
“And? Who I choose to love and spend time with isn’t yours, or anyone else’s business.” You snapped back.
“You see, that’s where you’re wrong. Your part in all this; the exchange program, being close with a bunch of high ranking demons; you as a human are committing the highest level of treason by aiding in the progression of uniting the realms. You are opening the door for corruption, chaos and sin to pollute our world.”
You laughed lightly in disbelief.
“When has our world ever been free of any of those things? Do you honestly think the Celestial Realm would be part of the treaty if He wasn’t on board with it? Stop blaming others because you’re close minded. Your blatant hatred for others is your fault, your sin. No one else’s.”
His face turned red and his expression changed into one of anger at the mention of Him. He stormed off toward the work table.
“And by the way, none of this-” You wiggled your fingers around as best as you could in an attempt to gesture around you, “is free of sin. Pretty sure He would frown upon this. Maybe even more so than my relationship with his sons.” You couldn’t help but smirk at your own jab.
He turned back to face you, bible in hand and quickly walked back to where you were hanging, and knelt down into your face again.
“It’s time to begin.” He said with sick, sadistic smile on his face; ignoring what you’d said.
With one quick movement, he lifted you off the giant hook your hand restraints hung from; letting go of you when you were a few feet from the ground, slightly knocking the wind out of you. Although you were being a little mouthy, you still felt pretty weak from being trapped inside that trunk. Not to mention that your shoulders were killing you from being suspended for so long.
He pulled you across the concrete floor by the hand restraint, stopping once he reached the stock tank. He opened up his bible and laid it on a little table near the side of the tank. He picked you up easily and climbed into the water. Even with as hot as it is, the water was frigid. It was only about four feet deep, but being restrained and unable to move freely, you would easily drown if Alex didn’t keep hold of you.
He stood at your side, facing you with his hands firmly grasping your arms right below your shoulders. He started reciting scripture from memory, glancing back at the open bible a few times for reference. He began to repeatedly dunk your head below the surface of the icy water. He recited the same passages over and over again, making it easier for you to figure out when to hold your breath. Although, a few times he seemed to hold you under a little too long, leaving you gasping for air when you returned to the surface.
When the never-ending baptizing finally did come to an end, he plucked from the water and returned you back to where you had been suspended. You were shivering uncontrollably and your head was pounding. No doubt from lack of oxygen after having to hold your breath, then gasp for air more times than you could possibly count. The added weight of your dripping wet clothes added to the searing pain in your shoulders.
He went over to the work table and grabbed the big jar of water you’d seen earlier. He dipped his fingers in it and flicked it at you whole reciting scripture. You assumed that it was holy water.
As you listened to him drone on and on, you found it hard to stay conscious. You haven’t really felt right since getting out of that scorching trunk; you most likely had heat exhaustion.
“Does being saved from eternal damnation bore you?”
“No, just you.” You replied weakly, looking up at him and trying to muster a smirk.
“Is that so?” He challenged.
He abruptly turned around and went back to the work table, returning a moment later sporting the thick work gloves you’d seen earlier, carrying the taser in his hand.
“Then I suppose we need to take it up a notch.”
-
Mammon went straight to the coordinates Levi sent him, but found nothing except dirt roads and cow pastures. Even from an aerial point of view there wasn’t much to see. After circling the area several times, he landed atop a tree in a densely wooded area. Although it was pretty dark out here in the middle of nowhere, far from civilization, he still couldn’t risk being seen as Alex could be watching; waiting for him to come for you.
“Where are ya, MC?” He quietly asked aloud, eyes continuing to scan the darkness that enveloped his surroundings.
With every passing minute his heart grew heavier, his chest tighter. It felt as if he couldn’t breathe properly. As cliche as it sounded, you were his literal heart; his entire world. 
Before you came to the Devildom, he thought he had it all figured out. Stealing and gambling, partying every night, spending money like there was no tomorrow, making shady deals with witches. He was living what he considered the luxurious life of a high roller and he couldn’t get enough of it.
Then you came along, and he was forced to be your guardian or sorts and look after you. It was such a pain. You made it harder for him to give Lucifer the slip so he could go on gambling binges and live up to his title. But, being the weak, magic-less human you were, you needed constant protection.
It didn’t take long before being your protector became something more than what he was ordered to do. He needed to be the one to watch over you, the poor helpless human. His human. As soon as he got a taste of what it felt like to be around you, he couldn’t get enough. He was hooked. 
Your smile and the sound of your laughter, the face you make when you’re concentrating or how you pooch your lips out when you’re getting irritated. The never ending kindness you showed him, especially when he was less than friendly at first. Even during those early days, just simply being near you brought him a sense of peace and warmth. The energy you radiated was intoxicating. Before he realized what was happening, he was a lost cause; completely wrapped around your finger.
If someone were to have told him he’d end up completely smitten with a human, he would’ve called them crazy. The Great Mammon would never waste his precious time on something that didn’t involve Grimm and how to obtain and/or spend it, much less a human. Smitten is precisely what he was though, to say the least. Not that it bothered him in the slightest.
He’s been around for thousands of years, and never once has his heart beat the way it does now. He’d always known love because of his siblings, and even the great loss of a loved one when Lilith died. While he would move mountains and do anything for his family, and even lay his life down for them, the way he felt about you was completely different. He would do all those things for you as well, and so much more. You knew him on a different level, a way no one else ever had in all his existence. 
Relationships were never really his thing. Sure, he’d had plenty of flings, but most of them only cared about what they could get out of being with the Avatar of Greed, not that it really bothered him. He pretty much only got involved with people when the bitter loneliness became too much to bear. Love isn’t typically something that happens for demons, not that he was looking for it anyway. But, sometimes it was nice to have someone to hold, to feel the warmth of another. Even if he didn’t remember their name. Not that they, or he for that matter, really cared.
Which is why he was so perplexed by the feelings you stirred up inside him. He was one of the strongest rulers of the underworld, who could probably have any succubus he wanted, so why was he becoming increasingly enthralled by you? A completely ordinary human. Or so he thought, anyway. No ordinary human would’ve been able to knock him off his feet the way you had. You were special. You made him feel.
You were kind, warm, headstrong and funny. You’d even put your own life in danger to save those who were much stronger than you, like that time with Beel and Luke in the underground tomb; not because you thought you would win the fight, but because it was the right thing to do. He’d never witnessed such bravery, such selflessness in a human. Especially not when it came to protecting a demon, someone who would be deemed unworthy of such an act simply because of what he was. This once weak, irrelevant human, was now one of the people he respected most. You’re undying love and kindness for others was one of the infinite things that made him fall for you.
He clutched your shirt tightly in his hand, bringing it up to his face and burying his nose into the fabric. He breathed in your scent, filling his lungs as much as he could. He needed to keep the smell fresh in his mind, in hopes of picking up your trail. Tears began to prick his eyes. All the memories of you were nearly too much to handle. He couldn’t lose you. He wouldn’t.
He had no idea what this freak had planned, but he knew it couldn’t be good. The clock was ticking. The more time that passed, the harder it would be to find you. He looked out into the night again, hoping to see anything that might point him in your direction, but there was nothing. The only sounds came from the cows in all the pastures around the area, and a very faint humming noise off in the distance. He couldn’t see any signs of the car or any other clues, but he refused to give up.
“Alright, MC. C’mon, talk to me. Where are ya?” He said, getting ready to take to the skies once more to scan the area. Then it hit him, sending a shiver down his spine. He whipped his head to the right, and breathed in deeply.
MC!!
He took another long breath in, to make sure he wasn’t imagining it. It was definitely your scent. It was very faint, and muddled with something else, iron maybe? But there was no doubt it was yours. Like a shot, he flew in the direction your scent was coming from. The incoming storm was making it hard to stay on the trail, but he was not going to lose it now. He was almost there. Almost to you. There’s no way he was backing down.
A minute or so later he could see the faint glow of a light in the distance. It looked like it was coming from a barn or something. Your scent was getting stronger and stronger as he closed in on the building.
That’s gotta be it!
He landed on top of the building with a thud; coming in a little faster than he intended thanks to the increasing intensity of the storm. He paused a moment, waiting to see if his brilliant entrance had caused any kind of movement. When he didn’t hear anything, he moved to the edge of the roof to have a look around. There was a lot of overgrowth around most of the building, and some spots in the roof seemed to give a little. If he wasn’t careful he might end up crashing through the ceiling. It wasn’t a barn, but more like a warehouse or something.
He walked the perimeter of the roof, looking over the side for any kind of clues. There was nothing out front, and the sides of the building were all overgrown with vines and other greenery. He peaked over the side of the roof near the back of the building and tensed. He could see the car that matched the description of Alex’s, hidden underneath loose foliage in what looked like a poor attempt to conceal it. 
I knew it He thought, his heart beginning to race.
He remembered seeing an industrial ventilation fan on the side of the building before he landed, and quietly rushed over to it, crouching down slightly on the maintenance access platform. 
By now, the storm was raging full force. The rain was coming down in sheets, the thunder booming as lightning lit up the night sky. The fan was pretty rusted but thanks to the thunder, he was able to crack open the slats slightly without being heard. The sight he was met with made his blood boil, prompting him to let out a guttural animalistic growl that rumbled deep in his chest. The iron smell mixed with your scent he’d smelled earlier, was blood. 
Anger like he’d never felt before burned deep inside his very being worse than the raging storm around him, truly making his demon side come out. He never had any intentions of letting this psycho walk away from this, but now it was going to be a lot less humane. The witch’s words came rushing back to him.
‘Bring me the heart of a mammal, not of our world, that thrives on malice and sadism. If you cannot fulfill your end of the deal, I will place a curse on you until the ends of eternity that will make everything of value you come in contact with turn to ash.’
Mammon smiled viciously. Looks like he’d be able to fulfill his end of the bargain with the witch after all.
-
The “cleansing” quickly shifted from that of something considered somewhat normal, to something very far from it. Nothing about it could be considered holy anymore.
“Are you going to denounce your demonic pacts and sinful ways and conform?”
You lifted your head weakly to glare at him, “Never.” You snarled between staggered breaths. His face twisted in anger.
Blow after blow landed on your weak, fragile body. You spit out yet another mouthful of blood, the wet sounds echoing in the large room as it splattered onto the floor. Needless to say, you were in pretty bad shape.
Blood ran down your face from a laceration on your brow bone. Your lip was busted pretty bad and you had at least a few cuts inside your mouth from your teeth puncturing the skin on your cheeks and lips. You assumed you had some ribs that were at least cracked seeing as it had become pretty painful to breathe. All the spots he tased you in burned like fire, no doubt blistering up badly. He’d held it in the same spot for so long that you could smell your own hair and flesh burning.
There wasn’t much you could do in the way of fighting back, but you sure tried like hell in the beginning. But now you were way too weak, barely even able to scream out in pain. You’d already come to terms with the fact that you probably wouldn’t make it out of here. The reality of never seeing Mammon again swarmed you, tearing away the last bit of resolve you had left. You forced yourself to remember all the time you’d spent with him, making sure he was the only thing you thought of as you began to slowly depart from this world.
You would forever be grateful for the time you had with him and all the amazing memories you were able to make. Movie nights, staying up too late talking and laughing, trying and failing to hide from Lucifer after pranking him.
The way his too big of a hand completely engulfed yours, the way he looked at you when you were both all dressed up for some fancy party at the Demon Lord’s castle and how much he tried to hide his face so you couldn’t see his blush while he held you close on the dance floor.
Sneaking into each other’s beds when one of you had a nightmare, the way his body felt against yours when he cuddled you; his warmth and smell. The way he tried to hide his enormous smile and pink cheeks when you’d gush like a groupie over his newest spread in a magazine.
The time he was a flustered, stuttering mess for three entire days in the beginning of your relationship, unable to hear your name or see you without turning various shades of red because every time he did, flashbacks of loving you for the first time just days before came rushing back to him.
Those intimate moments were your favorite, for more reasons than the obvious. You got to see him in a different light. He was still his usual goofy, lighthearted, prankster self, but he was so much more than that too. He was so sweet it could make your teeth rot. He was gentle, slow. You could feel the love leave him, his heart pouring over into yours. There were always stars in his eyes; pure adoration. Something you could never quite grasp; how someone who had seen the literal heavens could look at a normal human like you in such a way; with such breathtaking awe.
You always felt like you didn’t deserve to be loved by someone as amazing as Mammon, but you would always be eternally thankful. In such a short time he’d brought so much happiness and light to your life. As happy as those memories were, you wished more than anything that you’d get the chance to make more, but sadly it didn’t look that way.
As Alex was coming in to land another blow, a loud thump could be heard from above you; his fist stopped in the air a few feet from your face.
“What was that?” He questioned to himself quietly. He stayed silent for a moment as he listened for more noise, but there was nothing. “Must’ve been thunder.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned his attention back to you, pulling the taser from his pocket.
“It really is a shame that you refuse to comply.” He said as he jabbed it into your ribs, causing you to use what little fire was left in you to cry out in pain. “You really were a fine specimen, until you wasted yourself on demons.” Another jab of the taser, this time on your thigh.
You choked out a weak, raspy laugh. “And I’d do it again, a million times over you sadistic, psychotic freak.” You spat, voice breaking. He reared his hand back to hit you, but was interrupted by another loud noise, this time near the entrance. 
He turned toward the sound and decided to check it out this time, picking the knife up from the table on his way. He was only gone for a few minutes, but you were grateful for the break. As much as you didn’t want to give up, your body just couldn’t take much more.
He slithered back through the entrance, soaked from the down pouring rain and complaining about hearing things.
“If you didn’t have a guilty conscience, you wouldn’t be so paranoid.” You said between several pained breaths. Your voice was small and frail, but you still managed to lace some venom in your words. He snarled, storming toward you and sticking the knife under your chin, lifting your head up to look at him. You used what energy you had left to glare at him.
“It’s too bad really, that even in your darkest moments, your last moments, what’s-his-name wasn’t here to save you.” He snickered, tracing the knife from your chin to your jugular, applying just enough pressure along the way to coax out a small line of blood.
“That’d be The Great Mammon to you, human.”
Alex whipped around toward the entrance at the sudden voice, the color draining from his face as a look of sheer terror washed over him.
“M-Mammon?” You choked out, a massive lump forming in your throat. You looked around Alex, the most beautiful yet terrifying thing coming into your field of vision.
It really was him.
Seeing him in demon form was nothing new to you by now. However, the look on his face was something you’d definitely never seen before. It almost looked as if there was an aura around him; a definite shift in atmosphere at his presence. His natural sin was Greed, but right now he embodied Wrath. 
It was so easy for you to forget that he really was a demon, as you’d never seen him in such a state before. The sight of him now; raw, malevolent power seeping from him, the low guttural growl, emitting such a heavy, nightmarish presence. He was scary. Even to you.
“MC..” There was pain in his voice; his face distorting in agony when he looked at you.
He charged forward, only making it a few steps before Alex swooped in. He got behind you, reaching around and keeping the knife at your throat; Mammon froze.
“Not another step.” Alex warned. “I have no qualms with spilling the blood of a traitorous demon whore that turned their back on the human race.”
Mammon stared at him blankly for a moment, then burst into laughter. It wasn’t his normal, happy laugh. It was dark, and oozed ill intent. He turned his attention to you once more, his expression softening just enough to not utterly terrify you.
“MC, do you trust me?”
“Since my first day in the Devildom.” You smiled fragilely, noticing the way his mouth briefly tugged up at the corner when your words reached him. He locked his eyes on Alex once again, dark expression returning.
“Close your eyes. No matter what you hear, don’t open them.” He instructed as he slightly crouched, getting into an attack stance; you nodded in agreement, doing as he said.
You could hear Alex huff behind you. “I will slit their throat, or did you hear what I said you filthy, abomina-”
He was silenced mid sentence by a sudden impact that jostled you slightly where you hung. You could hear gasping breaths and Mammon’s same sadistic laughter as earlier, followed by several ear splitting cracks and tearing sounds as Alex screamed out in pain; wet, squelching noises and heavy thuds rang through the room as several things hit the floor. It went on like this for several minutes, until the screams finally ceased.
You pretty well knew just by the sounds, that you were finally free; that psycho would never be able to hurt you again. 
Moments later, you were lifted off the large hook and being cradled gently in arms that you knew all too well. Mammon sank to the floor, his wings wrapping around you protectively, shielding you from the gore you didn’t need to see.
“MC..” He whispered, tears running down his cheeks as his eyes scanned over your frail, broken body.
As much as you wanted to savor the moment of finally being safe, once again in the arms of your demon, the reunion would have to wait. You had been through so much and your body couldn’t take any more. You began to fade in and out of consciousness, no longer able to hold on.
“MC..? MC! Stay with me! Please, please hold on just a little longer.” He begged, his voice cracking as he patted his hand against your cheek gently. You tired to put a hand on his cheek to soothe him, but your arm fell limp halfway to his face as you lost the fight to stay awake. You heard him yell your name a few times as you drifted, his voice fading away slowly.
-
What is that infernal noise?
You had suddenly become hyper aware of an out-of-the-ordinary noise somewhere close by. An alarm clock perhaps? No, it was more of a beeping sound than a shrill ringing.
You lazily opened your eyes, immediately regretting it and squinting them shut because of a blinding white light that was shining in your face. You blinked several times as you tried to adjust.
As you scanned the room slowly, it started to look as if you were in one of the rooms in the Demon Lord’s castle, but it appeared to be set up as a hospital room of sorts. The blinding light was coming from one of the big lights they use at the dentist office. You soon discovered that the beeping noise you’d been hearing was actually one of several monitors you were hooked up to. 
Everything started to fall into place and make sense, memories coming back of the events that brought you here. The monitor closest to you started to sound an alarm, indicating your heart rate had picked up and your blood pressure was rising. Seconds later the door flew open, a figure rushing into the room.
“MC.” He said, breathing a sigh of relief.
Barbatos moved to your bedside and silenced the alarms, opting to check your vitals himself.
“How do you feel?” He asked, pressing his index and middle fingers to the underside of your wrist, checking your heart rate.
“Fine, I guess?”
“You guess?” He repeated, taking a small light from his pocket and shining it in your eyes, checking the dilation of your pupils.
If you remembered correctly, which you’re very sure you did, your injuries were extensive. There’s no way you could forget that level of pain. You felt tired, kind of groggy from sleep, but there was no pain.
“How long have I been asleep?”
“About three days.”
Three days?! You thought to yourself, a little shocked.
That’s still not nearly enough time for your wounds to heal. You must have looked as confused as you felt, prompting and explanation from Barbatos.
“Your injuries were rather extensive, so Mammon brought you here after rescuing you. Lord Diavolo had the best doctors in the Devildom tend to you with magic. Although they healed you perfectly, you weren’t showing any signs of waking up just yet, so we decided to keep you here to monitor your condition.” You nodded along in understanding as he spoke.
He placed the light back in his pocket and moved away from the bed. “I shall notify Lord Diavolo and the others that you have awakened. Please excuse me.” He said as he bowed, then left the room.
You sat up in the bed and criss crossed your legs, careful not pull out your IV or tangle any of the wires to the other monitors. You let out a long, heavy sigh. Before you could be consumed by your thoughts of all the memories of the last few days, the door to your room flung open once more. This time, it was the one person you wanted to see most.
“MC!” He shouted, voice cracking with emotion. Mammon crossed the room in an instant and sat in front of you on the bed.
“Are you okay? Do ya feel any pain?” He asked frantically, his eyes scanning your face then darting to the monitors, hands hovering over you as if he wanted to help but was unsure how. You grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers in his. It seemed to calm him a little.
“I’m okay.” You assured him. Although you’d been put through the wringer, you felt so at peace. Not only were you in the safest place in the entire Devildom, but the one thing that threatened your peace of mind, was now no longer a problem.
“I-I uh, I was scared.. that I was too late. That ya weren’t gonna wake up, that I’d...that I’d lost ya..” He confessed, voice catching in his throat as tears fell from his eyes. He carefully scooped you up and held you in his lap, holding you as close as he was able to with all the wires and such. You sat up a little and snaked your arms around his neck, pressing your lips firmly to his.
While you were held captive, you had been so sure that you’d never get a moment like this with Mammon ever again. You were happy beyond words to be back in his embrace once again with his lips on yours. Smelling his wonderful scent, and feeling his warmth on your skin.
After a few minutes of your lips moving in synchronization, he broke the kiss, and pulled back to look you in the eye. A serious expression washing over his face. “MC, I’m sorry I didn’t-”
You held up your hand to stop him, “No, Mammon. You’re not going to blame yourself. I won’t let you. Everything that happened was his fault, not yours or anyone else’s. He was sick in the head, with a twisted ideology.”
He nodded, “I know, I know. It’s just..” He shook his head as he tried to choke back more tears that threatened to spill. You knew exactly what was running through his mind.
“Mammon, there is no one else in the three realms I’d rather trust with my protection, than you. As a matter of fact, there’s no else that can even compare to you in my eyes. As I already said, none of this, none of it, is your fault and I’ve never once thought it was. I love you, Mammon and there’s no one else I’d rather entrust my life with, or spend it with for that matter.” You placed your hand on his cheek and smiled at him, tears now streaking your cheeks. He leaned into your touch, his hand resting lightly on top of yours for a moment before pulling your hand away and placing several light kisses on your palm. 
Barbatos returned soon after, with a doctor in tow. Once they unhooked you from all the monitors and removed your IV, Mammon took you back to the House of Lamentation where everyone was awaiting your return.
It felt so good to be back. The HOL was technically your second home, but nowhere has ever felt more like home than here in the Devildom, surrounded by all your favorite people. And thanks to Lord Diavolo extending your stay until further notice, you were on cloud nine.
Although all your physical wounds were gone, the mental ones were sure to stick around for awhile. You expected as much though, having gone though quite a traumatic experience. Although, it made it a little easier knowing that Alex would never again be an issue.
It was clear that his soul wouldn’t be fit for the Celestial Realm, and you had fears of him being reincarnated in the Devildom and finding you once again. But, Mammon quickly laid those fears to rest, informing you of what he’d done that night after getting you safely to the Demon Lord’s castle.
He said he preformed some kind of ritual that ensured Alex wouldn’t be reincarnated anywhere; his soul having been wiped from the worlds. As if he’d never existed. He also mentioned something about Alex helping him to fulfill his end of a bargain with a witch. He didn’t really go into detail about the whole thing, but assured you that everything would be fine, so you didn’t push the issue. He’s a high ranking demon, after all. This surely isn’t his first rodeo. You were just ready to start the healing process and put an end to this awful chapter in life.
And with Mammon by your side; loving you, protecting you, helping you heal; you couldn’t think of a better way to begin such a beautiful new chapter.
~ fin ~
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devilscreekballad · 3 years
Text
Commission for BirbWaifu
With @birbwaifu ‘s permission, here’s the writing commission done for them <3
Thanks again for commissioning me.
If you wanna commission a story as well, check out the pinned post.
Enjoy
"Ya think they know?"
It wasn't an easy-to-answer question Nobu was posing there, but he felt a heavy weight lifting off his shoulders as the words finally left his mouth.
Charlie put his book down and pulled himself up into a marginally more upright position as they laid cuddled together in their train compartment's bed, reading.
"How d'ya mean?" he wondered, blinking down at the man resting against his chest.
Nobu drew a breath to answer, but paused. He knew the way he worded that question could mean a couple of things, and all of them had been weighing him down.
"About... all of it, I guess," he thus answered, looking briefly up at Charlie before listening to the other man's heartbeat again. "About me, 'bout you, us... this whole misadventure."
"I wouldn't call it misadventure, Nobu," Charlie said softly, playing lazily with the other's short hair. "I mean, look at what we achieved. But as for that... I don't think me family knows 'bout it. Nothing ya really put in the papers, right? An' what might make it into the papers... There's not really much o' a connection to us, is there?"
Nobu nodded.
"An' they already know 'bout ya," Charlie continued, gently caressing the other's cheek. "No one uttered a bad word 'bout ya since the wedding, so no need to worry there." Charlie shuffled and pressed a kiss onto the crown of Nobu's head. "And trust me, if anyone would have a problem with ya, Ada would rip'em a new one."
Nobu chuckled softly, and sighed.
"But what about us being together?" he wondered.
"Same deal," Charlie shrugged, giving Nobu's arm a squeeze. "But we'll find out for certain soon enough."
Something about Charlie's tone wasn't right. Nobu shifted a little to look at his lover once again.
"Yer alright?"
Charlie blinked once more, nodding.
"Am. Just still tryin' to wrap my head around everythin'. This was a bit bigger than anything we did before."
"It sure was."
And Charlie sighed.
"Wanna hear the punchline? The bit I find hardest to grasp is that ya actually love me back, and confessed first. All these years, we rode together and..."
Now Nobu sat up and smiled, bemused.
"We're both two oblivious fools, ain't we?" he said, now resting his head against Charlie's shoulder.
"Oblivious and both in bloody denial, Nobu," Charlie answered, taking the smaller man's hand. "But I'm glad you said something. I'm not certain I woulda had the courage to do so."
Now Nobu blinked.
"Ya really think so?"
Charlie nodded, smiling bitterly.
"With all that happened, I guess if you would not have said anything there and then... I woulda started tellin' meself that ya don't have the same feelings for me. 'Cause when all that crap didn't encourage ya to say anything..."
"It wouldn't have encouraged ya either by the sound of it," Nobu deadpanned, looking a little grumpy. "And yer the more courageous of the two of us."
Charlie awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Well... I..." he began, but Nobu gave his hand a gentle squeeze.
"But I get ya. I... I think I woulda jumped to the same conclusion 'bout ya had I not said anything."
Charlie smiled and put the book away, turning to Nobu to gently kiss his forehead.
"We're a match made in... God knows where..." he chuckled, cuddling into the pillow.
Nobu did the same.
"Ya think we'll ever see the others again?" he wondered as Charlie turned off the small lamp. "I mean, they said they'll stay in contact, but..."
"I'm quite certain 'bout Mrs. Meadows. Can't imagine Blayne won't keep his eye on us, and she'll be the best way to do so. With O'Brian, Burke an' their brethren, I'd say it depends on what the world has in store for'em. Miss Florence will certainly write." Charlie hummed in thought. "I think the only real tricky one will be Lynwood, what with him moving to England. He'll either write eagerly or will get wrapped up in work again."
Nobu nodded gently. This sounded about right.
"Those were some weird weeks," he said.
Charlie sighed in agreement.
"That they were. But one can't argue we didn't end our career as outlaws on a high note."
"As if you'd actually give up on gamblin' and hustlin'."
Charlie laid his arm around Nobu, pulling him closer.
"I'll cut it down for ya, an' ya know that," he said, giving Nobu a loving squeeze. "But now we should sleep. I'd like to be awake properly when we meet me family."
"Yeah, not riskin' givin' them any advantage."
Both men chuckled, and Nobu leaned up to kiss Charlie's cheek.
"I love you."
"I love you too." Charlie returned the kiss. "Good night."
"Good night."
~~o~~
The next morning came, and Nobu woke to the conductor knocking on the compartment door, announcing that they'll reach their destination in less than an hour.
Nobu sat up, yawned, and looked down at Charlie, watching the other man's chest rise and fall gently. And after a moment, Nobu playfully ran a hand over Charlie's stomach. Charlie stirred awake, blinking blearily at his lover.
"G'morning," he slurred, squirming a bit. "Ya really took a liking to tickling me awake, didn't ya?"
Nobu sighed and searched Charlie's eye.
"I..." he began. "I guess I'm tryin' to tell meself this ain't a dream."
Charlie smiled and reached up to caress Nobu's cheek.
"I get that. I think I told ya that I'm still wrappin' me head around all of it." Charlie cocked his head. "But I get the impression yer really worried 'bout things."
"Am," Nobu admitted. "We got a new life ahead o' us, and..."
"Yer scared, no matter how much ya wanted it?"
Nobu nodded, and Charlie pulled him into a gentle hug.
"Look, Nobu, I can't promise ya that life will be outrageously easier now. But it should be a less rocky road. An' we've weathered so many storms together already, I think we can weather the next few as well."
Nobu nuzzled his face into the crook of Charlie's neck, humming gently. It took a moment before he sat back up, looking down at Charlie.
"Yer counting tellin' yer family we're together as one of'em storms?" he asked, all perfect innocence. And Charlie snorted a laugh.
"Oh, that depends on how obnoxious they'll be about it," Charlie answered, stretched and clambered out of bed. "But I ain't tellin' ya nothin' new when I say ou'll fit right in with the bunch o' altruistic hens that me family is."
Now Nobu laughed as well, watching Charlie get dressed.
"Ya warned me before," he joked then, getting up himself.
It wasn't until everything was packed and the train slowed as it neared the station that Charlie fell thoughtful again.
"Penny for yer thoughts?" Nobu asked.
Charlie looked at him, and then at the window, watching the scenery go by.
"Told ya, still lettin' things sink in. Right now it's mostly the fact that I haven't seen me family in person since Grace's wedding."
Nobu nodded.
"We sure got a lot to tell'em..."
Charlie smirked.
"I reckon those tales will be a good warm up till we get to the big reveal."
"Ya mean that we saved the world or that we got together?"
Charlie pretended to earnestly ponder this.
"Yes," he then said with a cackle, and earned a gentle elbow to the side for it. But Nobu chuckled as well.
"We should go then," Nobu said as the train stopped, shouldering his bag. "I'm certain I saw Ada and Oscar waitin' for us."
~~o~~
Now, Charlie was never the kind of person to get overwhelmed too easily. But arriving at one's family's home and being greeted by around a dozen-something friendly faces will very easily do the trick.
Charlie had barely gotten off the carriage when he was swarmed by various nephews and nieces, and while Oscar carried their luggage inside, Ada took the opportunity to have a small heart-to-heart with Nobu a bit away from the group.
"Whatever ya did after Potter's Springs musta been a big one to get Charlie to come home for good after all this time," she said, watching Charlie for a bit.
Nobu smiled askew.
"Don't be like that. Ya know how much he'd have loved to be here more often. An' yer one to talk. Yer always out an' about yerself." Then Nobu realized something and his eyes grew wide. "Wait, how do ya know about..."
"Potter's Springs? Josie wrote to me when that Pinkerton agent of yers got ya stuck in town for a bit." Ada smiled slyly. "Can't believe ya an' Charles worked with a bloody Pinkerton."
Nobu sighed.
"Neither could we."
"Did ya leave him to rot in the end?"
Nobu furrowed his brow.
"No. Truth be told, he... he's not that bad a person. And he quit his job."
Ada chuckled.
"Good call." She patted Nobu's back. "Come, ya gotta meet the other new members o' the family."
Nobu nodded and followed her, only to stop dead in his tracks when he realized something else.
"W-why did ya word it like that?"
With a smirk, Ada waved him to follow.
"I'll tell ya when Charlie's in hearin' range. Would spoil all the fun otherwise."
By all means, Nobu couldn't say that that sounded promising, but there was nothing else he could do but follow.
About ten or fifteen minutes later Nobu and Charlie had been introduced to all the new members of the family, and another ten till they were seated on a large and nicely decorated breakfast table.
Something that made Charlie squirm with a bit of embarrassment.
"Ya did this all for us?" he asked, to which his mother ruffled his hair after putting a basket of boiled eggs down.
"Ya been away from home for so long, Charlie, and ya pulled quite a stunt in New Hamelin." As you and Charlie blinked a little confused, Charlie's mother smiled and retrieved a newspaper from the shelf, handing it over. "We do get the papers out here, Charles. An' yer not goin' to tell me this kinda thing isn't right up yer alley."
Charlie cleared his throat quite abashed, putting the paper back down.
"Well, yes..." he began.
"Glad to see ya ended on a high note," Ada noted. "One last big thing before you an' Nobu settled down. So, what are yer plans now?"
Charlie quirked a brow.
"Get a job, I guess."
"As what?" Ada teased. "With yer skillset ya'd be best suited for politics, but ya got too good a heart for that."
Charlie snorted a curt laugh and leaned back.
"Yer kind as always, Ada. I was thinking 'journalism'. Maybe writing. Good respectable work, that."
Something about this made a smile tug on Nobu's lips.
There was some agreeing murmuring, some nodding and some eyerolling around the table, before Ada looked at Nobu.
"An' you?"
Nobu winced, taking a deep breath.
"I dunno yet. I-I mean I'm no good with words an' all, but... maybe I can find something at a bookstore in the city. A library. Ya know I like to read."
"Well, good to know Charlie will have someone to read what he put out," Ada quipped, grabbing the breadbasket and helping herself to a small tower of rolls. "But that aside, why don't ya tell us the whole story."
"Yes," Grace chimed in. "What happened that made ya finally decide to settle down with Nobu."
"Well, it's quite a long..." Charlie began, but then narrowed his eye at his sister. "Why did ya word it like that?"
Grace giggled in response, while Ada did her best to not start laughing out loud. Charlie cast Nobu a suspicious glance, and Nobu, albeit just for a moment, wished the ground would open and swallow him whole.
"I think they know," Nobu mumbled, and Charlie frowned.
"We suspected," Ada corrected. "Since Grace's wedding, the way the two o' yer been with each other..."
"Why didn't ya say anything?" Charlie protested, to which Grace spoke up.
"Charlie, that kinda thing is something the two of ya had to come to terms with for yerself," she said. "But to tell the truth, if ya wouldn't have gotten together by now Ada woulda set out to screw yer heads back on right."
Charlie and Nobu turned their gazes to Ada, who smiled back self-satisfied.
"Look at ya two," she said. "Ya've been workin' together so well since ya met, and one would have to be really oblivious to not notice that." He smile softened. "But I know yer both... yer both the kind of people who deny themselves that anything good can ever happen to them for a longer time. But..."
Charlie waved her off, taking a deep breath.
"We... already figured we're oblivious fools, no need to rub it in," he said, clearing his throat.
"That you are," Ada agreed, and smiled. "But we're all happy ya finally figured it out."
Charlie smiled at Nobu, and Nobu smiled back, nudging Charlie's leg below the table.
"But now let's eat," Ada called, "before it all gets cold."
"Can't argue with that," Charlie muttered, getting Nobu to chuckle.
~~o~~
"Charlie?" Nobu asked as they sat on a bank in the house's small garden, catching their breath after breakfast.
"Mhnn?"
"I've been thinking."
"About?"
"What do ya think?" Nobu smiled, resting his head against Charlie's shoulder. "About what yer family said. About us. We been so busy with wrappin' our heads 'round what happened in Devil's Creek, an' us being two godforsaken fools that we didn't even think about just what we're goin' to do now."
Charlie smiled, leaned his head against Nobu's and laid an arm around the other man.
"We still had a good answer to it, don't ya think?"
Nobu pondered this.
"Yes, but... I mean I can imagine ya writin' books, but I-I can't see myself sellin' any... or anything."
Charlie pressed a gentle, careful kiss to Nobu's temple.
"I'm sure ya can," he said, squeezing Nobu's shoulder. "An' we got time now. We're not on the run anymore."
"There's still people who have a bone or two to pick with us."
Charlie nodded with a sigh.
"I know. But we can handle them. Settling down doesn't mean lettin' one's guard down, now does it."
Nobu nodded.
"Are ya scared," Charlie asked softly.
"A bit. Not just about that... about everythin'."
"Me too, that much I can tell ya." Charlie looked forlornly at the sky for a moment, caressing Nobu's shoulder absentmindedly. "It's weird, innit?"
"Mhnn?"
"All the things we've been through an' this is what we're scared 'bout the most."
"Well," Nobu began, pondering. "I guess it's 'cause we've never been in such a situation before. It was always 'us and where we go from here for the next hustle'. Now it's... Us and where we'll go from here for us."
Charlie chuckles gently.
"Yeah, it is." Then he shuffled around, looking at Nobu. "Well, where do we go from here?"
Nobu blinked.
"Didn't we just talk 'bout that?" he wondered.
"I mean literally," Charlie said, leaning back again and looking up at the sky wistfully. "The world is big, Nobu. There's a lot of places to go an' see, an' about as much to stay there for a bit longer than we usually do. So, where do we go from here? See the world? Build a small house somewhere on the frontier? Go back to civilization?"
Charlie's gaze was gentle and free of any sarcasm as he looked back at Nobu. And Nobu just smiled, just as gentle and honest, before he cuddled against Charlie again, laying the other man's arm around his shoulder once more.
"I don't know yet. I guess I'll see," he said, entwining his fingers with Charlie's.
Charlie chuckled softly, giving Nobu's hand a soft squeeze.
"Yes... But... it's funny. I know one thing for certain." He smiled and cupped Nobu's chin, pressing a tender, loving kiss onto the other's lips. "I won't go anywhere without you by my side."
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cottoncandy-jester · 4 years
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✨lie down darling Its time for a dream✨
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Faking it (dad squad)
So basically this is what happens if the dad squad found out reader faked an orgasm before
This is of course 18+ and the reader is female
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Daichi suwamura
Okay so daichi honestly was never worried about y'all sex life
Like you moan his name everytime why is he worried
It's when you and the rest of the karasuno group get drunk and play truth of dare
When it's your turn.. you're drunk off six shots of tequila and tanaka asks you to reveal your deepest secret
"okay okay! Sooo during me and daichi's fourth anniversary, we fucked and I may have totally faked it"
Wait what.
WHAT?!
Everyone else is laughing but daichi is over here having a mental breakdown
You did what?!
How many more have you faked?! Were they all fake?! Did he ever really make you cum?
It did not take long for daichi to drag you away to the nearest bathroom
You gasp when daichi pinned you against the wall his mouth attacking your neck while his hands roamed your body now gripping your hips as he ripped your panties off.
"faked an orgasm?! Damn it how many did you fake? Doesn't matter don't tell me. I'm going to fuck you against this wall and you are going to cum over and over til I know for sure you like having sex with me"
He fucked you until you couldn't think anymore, he also made sure EVERYONE heard it.
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Tooru oikawa
You were having girl talk with the other managers and the topic of sex came up
They all assume he's some sex god which makes you laugh
Oikawa is honestly such a dork during sex that you couldn't help but spills beans
"honestly he was so nervous during our first time, It was so cute..though he didn't really make me.. y'know"
Oh BOY
News travelled fast and before you know it at 4am you had a pissed oikawa at your door
The loud harsh banging interrupted your sleep and you went to the door only to see oikawa standing there, your sleepy eyes trailed his body up and down and you noticed he was gripping his phone so tight his knuckles turned white, you didn't even get to speak when the male stormed inside and let's out a frustrated sigh.
"why are rumors about me being bad in bed spreading around?!"
"I dunno...maybe you have a hater, babe it's like 4am..why are you here?"
Oikawa snapped his head towards you before walking towards you anger fuming towards you before he gripped your arm tightly.
"everyone is saying you started the rumor, so tell me little cutie what the fuck have you been saying?"
Your eyes got wide as the conversation with the girls resurfaced in your head and you softly reached out to put your hands on his cheeks which made him relax but he was still clearly annoyed.
"sorry, tooru it was just one little story. Girl talk y'know and it's fine lots of people can't make their partner cum their first time you just ha-"
You were cut off by the male roughly pulling you towards your room, everytime you tried to speak oikawa would glare at you before demanding that you shut up. Once in your room he pushed you on the bed his ego clearing having dropped now that you admitted the truth.
"I am good at sex! I am Great! I just have to prove to you that you are with the best man ever"
As he spoke he started to strip before his cold glare landed on you before he crawled ontop and wrapped a hand around your throat.
"you are going to be begging me to stop making you cum once I'm done with you"
He made you tell everyone that you cummed extra hard that night, even if it was super embarrassing to say.
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Tetsuro kuroo
You two were arguing
It started with him being jealous of a person at work flirting with you and it just blew up
Screams and swears shooting back at the other
Low blows were dealt
You both don't even remember what the fight was about
Then..you said it
"God you are so cocky! It's shit like that, that make me fake orgasms during sex"
He shut up after that one for sure
All he can think about was how many did you fake and how he failed as your lover
Why didn't you tell him you weren't feeling good during sex?
Kuroo remained quiet as he let his brain think, after saying it you quickly walked over and hugged him hoping he wasn't angry at you
"baby! I'm sorry I didn't mean it, I was just upset and you were just upset you forgive me yeah?"
"how many times?"
"that doe-"
"how many damn times?!"
You flinched when he forced you to look at him showing pain in his eyes and you couldn't help but be honest with him.
"only a few, during those times where I was just really sleepy that's it"
Kuroo let's out a shaky sigh before he peppered soft kisses along your neck. He was pretty hurt at the moment but he did want to make it up to you, plus make up sex was always good
"come, let's talk this out yeah?"
His tone was soft as he guided you to the bedroom thought talking wasn't the plan he had, he wanted to make you see stars and make sure he could actually make you cum.
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Koutaro bokuto
Okay so maybe it wasn't a good idea to pump up bokuto's ego every time you guys have sex
All your praise makes him think he's the best in the world
But when it came time for a girls night at you and bokuto's place stuff starts to spill
You told bokuto to spend the night at akaashi or something but you didnt think he would come home
"sooo [y/n]! How is bokuto in bed?! We gotta know"
The question made you embarrassed while bokuto stood outside you guys' bedroom listening in
Yes dear wife tell them how my sex is the best in the world
"koutaro, tries his best. Sometimes he gets a little too excited and cums early so he gets too tired to finish and we end up cuddling before I can climax so I just fake it"
WHAT?!
Bokuto automatically swings the door open scaring both you and the girls
He is legit tearing up and about to sob
After, very quickly telling the girls to leave he cries into your stomach while you pet his head
"why didn't you tell me?! I would have made it all better"
"oh..kou..it's no big deal"
Your soothing which would usually work just wasn't working right now, bokuto sniffled as he looked up at you with tearful eyes, you were his baby owl and he couldnt even make you feel good?!
He couldn't believe that! No he won't accept that! Before you can respond bokuto pushed you down on the bed before starting to pull your pants and underwear off your body
"kou! W-what the hell?!"
"just let me do this please! I need to know that I can do this, I just want you to be happy with me..so..let me worship you"
You were shocked but shuddered at the feeling of soft kisses against your inner thigh, with one final sniffle bokuto was now focused on something else.
He proceeded to eat you out that night until you cummed so much that you was sobbing but by the end of it he was so happy to know that he can make you cum and of course he was more mindful about your needs.
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Wakatoshi ushijima
Oh jeez
Okay so he makes it very clear that bedroom talk is off limits
What you two do in bed is your business hell you guys don't really talk about sex and spend more time just doing it
You are very tight lipped about your sex life but tendou Is a very stubborn guy
He is constantly asking you what's it like..mostly cause he wants to tease wakatoshi
After finally bothering you to the point where you wanna hit him you confess
"toshi is great okay?! I mean sure he has his moments of not really getting me there but it's good so stop asking!"
OHOHOHO HE HAS TO KNOW MORE
after explaining that wakatoshi tends to be boringly vanilla you expect him to let it go
No bitch this is tendou 'i give no fucks' satori
Proceeds to tease wakatoshi about it every chance he gets
"wow who knew you could be boring in all departments"
"sooooo, you really like it vanilla huh?"
Of course oblivious wakatoshi doesn't pay him any mind until a drunk tendou spills the beans
"guess who told me that you're boring in bedddd~ pfft she said you are so slow that it is like fucking a box"
You of course didn't say that but you were shocked to see wakatoshi at your door the next day
"did you tell tendou about our sex life?"
Well fuck.
you honestly should have expected this. You let out a shaky sigh as you merely avoided eye contact you felt pretty embarrassed and ashamed
"yeah, sorry toshi he kept bugging me about it"
"you telling him is not why I'm upset"
You were honestly shocked and looked up only to see wakatoshi's face close to yours, his eyes were intense and honestly gave you chills.
"did you say I was boring during sex? Is this true?"
"um..yeah but it's okay I mean it's still good it's just very..typical I mean we do the same stuff all the time and you just tend to be, slow"
Wakatoshi was a little shocked by your words but he calmly sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to think of what exactly he needed to do.
"then my future wife, allow me to spend the night making you feel good instead of myself, you can tell me exactly what I need to do in order to bring you to climax again and again."
And you did exactly that, he was quite obedient and even did things he never done before just so he can make you feel good.
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cherrysha · 4 years
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A Sudden Realization
Ya’ll gunna kill me fr this... its not phinks like i promised. i’m still working on that one but i finished this a few days ago so this is my offering to yall. Is there a thing fr happy angst? Idk i gotta figure that out buut this is Illumi! He’s kinda hard fr me to write since uhhh... he quiet. But i tried!
Summary: Illumi finally lays his fears to rest.
Word count: 875
My requests are open atm
Warnings: Yandere Illumi, kidnap, angst. dassit
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“There’s a storm coming”
You whisper it mostly to yourself. As it stands there’s no one else here to listen to you. And even if there was, you don’t think they’d very much care about what you had to say. Hugging yourself, you peer out the window.
How long has it been since you’ve felt rain wet your skin?
You can’t remember.
-
You don’t know it but he’s behind you, watching from a distance as you let out a sigh, warm breath fogging the glass. You don’t know he’s there and you rarely ever do. You don’t know that he can sense your desperation. Your longing. It hangs in the air like a fog so thick he can almost taste it in the back of his mouth.
A year inside is a long time, he knows that. But the idea of you leaving him isn’t even an option. If you get out you could escape, not that you’d make it very far, but the thought alone is enough to irritate him. It’s not a chore he’s willing to deal with. He watches as you move to sit on the floor, legs pulled up to your chest as you crane your neck up to look through the window. Down there you can see the sky better; watch as fat storm clouds gray out the sun.
It’s times like these that you let yourself acknowledge the fact that you’ll never leave. That it’s futile to even hope.
Maybe once he was back from this job he’d think about just letting you walk around the garden soon. Although you highly doubted it. His mind was made up, and no one could make him change it. Not you, not the butlers or even his own family. Not that any of them cared anyway. You held yourself even tighter.
Minutes tick by as you listen for thunder since it was always your favorite part of a good storm. Quiet engulfs you, wraps you in a blanket of comfort and muffles the ache that’s caged in the hollow of your chest.
“Maybe one day.” you whisper to yourself. But in a place like this, it was hard to have any hope.
-
Your voice is a whisper when he hears it.
Maybe ten minutes after the clouds finally burst, drenching the earth with the type of rain that wouldn’t be stopping for hours, you start to hum to yourself.  It’s something sad, a melancholy tune that barely passes through your vocal chords. Head laying against your knees, you give yourself a moment to be fragile. With no one around to hear, to mock, to punish. You let yourself feel for the first time in a long time. You mourn the loss of your life and yet there’s no crying. If anything it’s just be a waste of energy. You’ve grown to learn that tears are useless.
He doesn’t know why, but even though he’d be content to watch you for hours he makes his presence known.
And maybe it’s the longing that consumes his senses like the ozone before a storm. Maybe it’s your quiet song, or the way you sit there so patiently like you’re willing to wait until the last drop falls from the sky. When you look up at him there’s no shock at the fact that you were being watched. You were used to his quiet intrusions. What shocks you is how he picks you up and carries you out into the garden.
He realizes now, in this moment, that he should know better. He shouldn’t let the possibility of your escape worry him. At this point it’s just a fact that he could stop you if you tried to escape, not an assumption. Illumi knows that you’ve come to that realization too and his actions should reflect as much.
It’s hard to know what you have until it’s gone, it’s a lesson he’s had to learn the hard way. And he watches as a smile creeps across your face, sure that he hasn’t seen an emotion that genuine from you in months. Right now, observing you as you lift your palms upwards like you’d be able to catch all the drops in your hands, It fills him with some feeling... something pleasant he has no name for.
It’s followed by light giggles as you bask in the downpour. In all practicality the rain was more of a nuisance in his eyes and he doesn’t think that will ever change. It’s so trivial he doesn’t understand it, but he doesn’t care to either. 
But the way you spread your arms in silent worship, angling your neck so it falls in your face, it was like you’d just found God.
He sits down on one of the concrete benches littered around the garden and lets you to continue to feel as you rest on his lap. Tears mix with water and you don’t care if he sees, it’s nothing he hasn’t witnessed before. Letting your joy guide your movements, you kiss him.
A small and light thing, only pressing your lips to his long enough to get your message across.
“Can we please stay here for a moment Illumi?”
“We can stay as long as you’d like.”
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kissinginkitchens · 3 years
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You Bring Me Home—Chapter Eleven: Water Under the Bridge (Finale)
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a/n: welcome back my loves <3 It’s so weird to think that this is the final chapter of YBMH and I’m definitely having a lot of feelings about it (denial, mostly). I want to say a huge thank you from the very bottom of my heart for sticking with this story and these characters that I love so much. I’ve had the most fun over the past few months talking to some of you and hearing your thoughts; I cherish it more than you’ll ever know. With all of that said, I’m going to miss this era so so much but I would still love to hear from you lovelies, so please feel free to drop by my inbox and let me know what you thought of this series!! Feedback, criticism, all of it is welcome :) Much love, Mel <3
Pairing: Hawai’i!Harry x Original Character (Halani <3)
Warnings: swearing, angst
Word Count: 6.7k
catch up on parts one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, and ten
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January, 2018
A strand of hair tickles Harry’s nose and his eyes flutter open. The faint sound of car horns and traffic outside reminds him of his location when his memory fails. He gently slips out of the bed and tiptoes over to the window, careful not to wake the girl sleeping soundly next to him. A thick layer of snow blankets every building and surface in New York City as far as the eye can see, and the grey sky above signals another storm on its way. 
I’m going to die of hypothermia, Alani shivers, nursing her steaming cup of tea as she walks away from the office window and takes a seat behind her desk. Even after living in the city for a year, she still hadn’t adjusted to the cold weather and feared that she never would. Her boyfriend had joked on numerous occasions that you can take the girl out of the island, but you can’t take the island out of the girl. 
“Vanessa’s on line three,” her assistant calls from the doorway. 
“Thanks,” Alani nods before bringing the phone to her ear. “So, what did you think?”
“It was brilliant,” the editor admits. “Insightful, witty. I think they’ll love it,”
Alani smiles and spins in her seat to face the window again. “St. James has been on my ass about this piece for weeks. I hope it’ll shut him up,”
“It will, trust me. Hey, I gotta go, but I sent the revision notes and we can discuss more later,”
“Great, thank you so much. See you at dinner,”
“Ta-ta.”
Alani reaches for a pen and scribbles a reminder onto a pink post-it note nearby. 
Bloody five-star hotel, you’d think they could afford decent pens.  Harry grumbles to himself, shaking the ballpoint to no avail. 
“Where are you going?”
Harry freezes in his tracks and turns to the brunette stretching out her tired limbs. He has to clear his throat to keep from saying the wrong name. 
“Just a quick walk,” he explains with a tight lipped smile. “Go back to bed.” 
She flashes a wide grin and snuggles back into the covers, but he secretly hopes that she’s gone by the time he returns. 
The snow crunches under Harry’s feet and he digs his hands deeper into the pockets of his coat. He had never been very fond of the cold, but he did have to admit that Central Park looked unbelievably beautiful in the winter. His phone buzzes inside his pocket and he digs it out to read the message. 
Mitch: Me and Sarah are going to Bisous in ten. Meet us?
Harry: See you there. 
********
“French is such a pretentious language,” Maleah scoffs, taking a bite of her pastry. “But I’ll be damned if I have to give up my chocolate croissants,”
Alani chuckles lightly and traces the restaurant’s logo of a red kiss printed on her napkin. Going to Bisous at least once a day had become a tradition during her best friend’s visits. 
“I’ll have to smuggle a real one back for you and then you can tell me if this one’s the real deal,”
“When are you going, again?”
“Next month,”  
Maleah wiggles her brows. “Oooh, Valentine’s Day? Are you taking Mason with you?”
“No,” Alani says casually. “It’s for work,”
“Well, who says you can’t mix business and pleasure?”
“Literally everyone.”
“Okay,” Maleah sighs, patting her full stomach. “Let’s go now before I get sleepy.”
The two friends make their way out of the busy restaurant and Alani’s shoulder brushes someone next to her. 
“Sorry.” she apologizes, making brief eye contact with the other person before doing a double take. 
Mitch purses his lips and turns his head back to the other girl at his arm while Maleah drags Alani out the door. 
********
“I mean, what the hell was that? I could barely keep my drum kit together,” Sarah laughs gently, sipping her coffee. 
“Cause of death: rocking too fucking hard,” Mitch shrugs. “There are worse ways to die,”
Harry stirs his black coffee with a spoon and watches the mini whirlpool grow. “Rob said you could feel it in the balcony, too,”
“I’m surprised you didn’t die,” Mitch pokes. “Mr. defective lungs,”
“Heyyy, I can’t help the asthma thing, alright?”
“Well it’s the last night,” Sarah chimes in. “Are we gonna try to beat the Kiwi record and go for four times in a row?”
Harry shrugs, a soft grin on his lips. “Dunno. Maybe if it feels right,”
“I say we cut out the middleman and just bulldoze MSG ourselves. What difference does it make if the fans tear the house down or if we do?” Mitch suggests. 
“Oh yeah,” Harry nods. “I’m sure Irving would love that.”
“Some food for thought.”
The trio finish their breakfasts and excitedly continue their conversations about the impending show, but the entire time, Mitch is haunted by the knowledge of Alani’s presence in the city. He debates telling Harry, but is suddenly reminded of the intense aftermath of the pair’s falling out. 
********
“Where’s Alani?”
“Don’t fuckin’ say that name to me ever again.” 
Mitch’s brow furrowed. “What’s going on?”
And with a simple question, anger had subsided into grief. Mitch still didn’t  know all of the details surrounding their split, but he had pieced together sufficient bits from Jeff and, in part, from the lyrics Harry penned in the following weeks. The slump had lasted through the fall and winter of that year, but as spring rolled around and the album’s release drew closer, Harry pulled himself together enough to promote and tour. It felt good to be on the road, and he found himself revitalized by the energy of those who came to support. Tour itself had been relatively intimate, as he had actively decided to play smaller venues than the sold out stadiums he was accustomed to, but the enthusiasm of the crowds hadn’t changed from his band days. As Harry occupied his attention with music, Hawaii grew smaller and smaller in the back of his mind. Eventually, it dwindled into a dull ache at the center of his chest, felt only on particularly long nights coaxed with a little bit of alcohol in his bloodstream. For now, he tried to focus on his last show at Madison Square Garden. 
********
Alani’s stomach turns. Had she really seen Mitch or had it been a remarkable doppelgänger? She hoped it was the latter, knowing that if he really was in New York City, Harry wasn’t far behind. This was by no means the first time she had been reminded of her summer love turned sour, but it stung just as much every time. The first incident was last April when she turned on the T.V. only to find Harry performing one of his new songs on Saturday Night Live. It had resulted in the loss of her favorite mug as it shattered against the hardwood floor in her apartment. Since that day, Alani had seen his face on countless billboards in Times Square and habitually asked taxi drivers to change the radio station or turn it off entirely. After a while, she had gotten better at dealing with the sinking feeling whenever he was mentioned, it was easier to detach feelings for someone who lived on a screen. Running into Mitch, however, had blasted a hole straight through the fourth wall that Alani had erected,  and she knew that there was absolutely no way she could cope with a similar encounter from Harry. 
“Oh shit,” Maleah gasps softly, looking through the windshield at the hundreds of people lined up on the pavement outside of Madison Square Garden. 
“What?” Alani asks, head still spinning. 
Her best friend immediately turns to her with a nervous smile and shrugs. “Oh it’s nothing. Hey do I have something in my teeth?”
Alani glances out the window behind Maleah and her eyes bulge. “Woah, what’s happening there?”
“Oh it’s probably, like, Lady Gaga or something. Anyways, look at this random text I got the other day.”
But it wasn’t “Lady Gaga or something.” The marquee reads “Harry Styles—SOLD OUT” in bold lettering. Alani retches into her bag. 
********
“Oh, for fucks saaake!” Harry shouts playfully, the sound of his obscenities echoing throughout the large venue. 
Mitch and Adam chuckle beside him and continue setting up their equipment while Sarah offers a comedic “badum-tss” on her drum set. 
“Okay then at that point, stage lights will come down and it’s ‘Meet Me in the Hallway’,” the technical director speaks into his earpiece.
Harry nods and watches the screen behind him roll through the animation that will play during the song. 
“Alright, then it’s—”
“Wait,” Harry interjects over the mic. “Sorry, can we run it?”
“Run ‘Meet Me’?”
“Yeah,”
Mitch tenses listening to the conversation that filters through his own inner ear piece, but he continues fiddling with the strings of his guitar.  
“Running ‘Meet Me’,” the director affirms. “Sarah, stand by.”
Harry’s eyes dart over to Mitch and he nods as a sign to begin. The guitarist clears his throat and strums the opening chords. 
Meet me in the hallway 
“M’gonna go wait in the hall…”
Meet me in the hallway 
“Give you some space to think and then we’ll talk, yeah?”
I just left your bedroom 
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Give me some morphine 
“I hope you got all the material you wanted.”
Is there any more to do?
“Please don’t go.”
Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you'll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 
Maybe we’ll work it out
********
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Maleah offers. “I can catch a return flight tomorrow,”
Alani sits up in her bed and shakes her head. “No, Mi, it’s okay. I’ll be fine,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. It’s probably just a stomach bug or something,”
Maleah gives her friend a tight squeeze and pulls away to read her face. “Let me know if you need anything, I’ll come right back,”
“Thank you,” Alani says, forcing a smile. “I’m so sorry to put a damper on your last day.”
“Nah, there’s nothing to worry about. Feel better soon, Nani.”
The door closes softly and Alani burrows deeper into the covers. She tries to bury the emotion back under a lock and key, but a gentle sob fights its way up her chest. It wasn’t supposed to be this way, she cries, but maybe it was. Just as the sun rises and sets, so had Harry entered and exited her life, and maybe that’s exactly how it was meant to be. After all, Alani had gotten exactly what she wanted, hadn’t she? So why does it still hurt? 
The snow falls gently outside of her window, but the entire scene blurs into shades of white and grey behind her tears. It had snowed just like this on the day she moved to the city. Shortly after the article about Harry had been published by a small gossip site, Alani had contacted the publishers and threatened litigation if they didn’t take it down. Unsurprisingly, they had also been contacted by Columbia Records and thus, the piece was removed that same day. Despite the quick turnaround, Rolling Stone had caught wind of the storm brewing on social media and reached out to Alani a few days later. They had been impressed that the elusive Harry Styles granted her an interview, but they didn’t push the matter much further. Instead, they had offered her one piece of her choosing to prove herself. If the reviews were favorable, she would be given a regular contributor spot, unpaid of course. They would re-evaluate at the beginning of the new quarter and negotiate from there. When January of 2017 rolled around, Alani’s writing was making surprising waves in the Rolling Stone community, so she had been hired on as a junior writer and assistant to the Editor in Chief. The pay wasn’t great, but it was a leap in the right direction. 
Despite everything that had changed in a year, a string of random letters on a building that Alani passed a million times had brought her emotions right back to the day she had tried so hard to forget. Her phone buzzes under the covers and she reaches out a hand to locate it. Her editor’s name appears and she answers it quickly. 
“Hello?”
“Darling, hello! Where are you?”
“Oh my god,” Alani groans. “Vanessa I’m so sorry,”
“Is everything okay?”
Alani sits up and clears her throat. “I have food poisoning,”
“Christ, from where?”
“Bisous,”
Vanessa sighs. “Poor thing. Okay, no worries we’ll just reschedule,”
“I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you,”
“No need to be sorry, get some rest and we’ll catch up later!”
The call ends and Alani gawks at the time. 7:30 already?  She slumps back under the covers and sifts through her social media, wincing when she sees several of her friends posting about the line outside of Madison Square Garden. No, Alani decides sternly when the sudden urge to go stirs in the pit of her stomach, absolutely no fucking way. 
********
“10 minutes!”
Harry scans the crowd from the monitor backstage. He pinches his lower lip between his index finger and thumb as the nerves settle in. 
“The house is packed,” Jeff comments with a hand on the singer’s shoulder. “And there’s still a crowd outside,”
“We did it?”
“You did it,”
So why does it still hurt? 
“Thanks for everything,” Harry says, bringing his manager in for a hug. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”
Jeff pats Harry on the back. “All in a day’s work for the dream team.”
Before heading out, Harry stops one of the crew members and asks if any of the guests on his list have arrived yet. Names are read off, friends from different inner circles over the years, but there’s one name in particular that isn’t called. He offers a thumbs up and a forced grin before making his way to the stage.
It always surprises the technical crew at every venue that Harry has specific lighting requests for the house. Performers had their individual preferences, this wasn’t unusual, but no one made a bigger deal about being able to see the crowd like Harry did. He enjoyed being able to see each person and connect with them, especially when performing an album that was as personal as this one. But in every sea he searched, one face was always missing. Tonight’s audience, much to his disappointment, was no different. 
The crowd cheers as “Sweet Creature” fades out and the lights on stage dim. More than half of the show has already gone by and they’ve reached the point that is always a little harder to get through. Harry takes a swig from his water bottle and clears his throat to fight the lump that forms. He breathes in deeply and “Meet Me in the Hallway” begins, but no matter how hard he tries to focus on the technical aspects of his performance, it’s nearly impossible not to get dragged back into the moment when the song was written. 
“I should go back,” 
“H, I don’t know if that’s such a good—”
“I have to go back.” 
And so he had. After two hours of pacing the airport lounge, Harry had jumped into an Uber and sped back to the hotel. It had taken another agonizing twenty minutes to explain his situation to the front desk workers and retrieve his old room key, but it was no use. He was too late. The bed was still unmade, but there was no sign of Alani save for the faint scent of Baby Honey and a gold necklace tucked away between the sheets. 
The flight back to the mainland had already departed by the time Harry stumbled through the hotel lobby, and there wouldn’t be another one for three more hours. In the meantime, he decided to get some fresh air and clear his mind, hoping all the while that he would find Alani at the edge of the beach waiting to run back into his arms. She never did, and he was left with all the words he wished he had said. 
I walked the streets all day 
Running with the thieves 
‘Cause you left me in the hallway 
Just take my pain away 
Just let me know and I’ll be at the door, at the door
Hoping you'll come around
Just let me know I’ll be on the floor, on the floor 
Maybe we’ll work it out
********
“Great show,” praises Rob Sheffield, author of one of Harry’s favorite books, Love is a Mix Tape. “Drummer’s incredible,”
Sarah beams and Harry flashes her a grin. “Thanks. It’s Sarah’s band, really. I’m just the frontman,”
“Well she kicked ass. All of you did, and I can tell by the way the floor was shaking that I’m not the only one who thought so.”
“Thank you so much, that means a lot.”
More guests filter in and congratulate Harry and the rest of the band, but while he sincerely appreciates all of the love, he can’t help the way his eyes flicker to the door every once in a while in the hope that someone else will straggle in. He slowly loses that hope when the room empties and the night drags on. 
********
This isn’t ethical, Alani chastises herself, this is wrong on every level and you’re gonna pay. She runs her fingers over the Rolling Stone press badge in her hand and stares at the marquee towering over her. What the fuck are you doing? 
“Excuse me!” Alani calls when she sees an employee slip through a side door. “Hi, I know I’m really late but I’m actually here with Rolling Stone,”
The blonde-haired woman blinks and scans over the badge with an unamused look on her face. 
“Nice try,”
“No, wait,” Alani begs. “I have to get in there, please—”
“You and every other girl within a twenty-five mile radius.”
Alani takes a deep breath and re-groups. “You don’t understand. I really need to get back there, I’m working on an important piece,”
As the struggle continues, another woman in stiletto heels exits through the side door with a clipboard in tow. 
“My name is Alani Hale, see? Please just—”
“Wait,” the woman with the clipboard intervenes. The name sounded strangely familiar, probably from the blacklist, in which case security would need to be notified. “What did you say your name was?”
Alani holds her badge out and swallows hard. “Alani Hale, junior writer for Rolling Stone.”
The woman checks through the blacklist but the name isn’t registered. She does a cursory glance over the V.I.P section and her finger lands on a note that reads “Mahealani ‘Alani’ Hale—Code Carolina: escort backstage and inform Mr. Styles immediately.”
“Follow me, please,”
Alani trails behind, doing her best to keep up with the long strides of the woman with the clipboard.
 “Marta to security, I have a Code Carolina,” she murmurs into her ear piece. “Repeat, I have a Code Carolina.”
Alani’s heart races as they zig-zag through the arena. Did Harry know that she was coming? Had Mitch told him that they saw each other at Bisous? The answer was no, Mitch hadn’t told and Harry didn’t know. He had only hoped. Unbeknownst to Alani, her name was printed on the Madison Square Garden list and on every list of every show in all the countries scheduled. Through Paris and all through Rome, Harry had looked for her face in the crowd and he dreamed that one day his efforts wouldn’t be in vain. 
“Wait here,” Marta instructs, leading Alani to a back room with mirrors, a couple of couches, and a clothing rack. “Someone will be with you shortly.”
Before she can ask any questions, Marta is gone and the sound of her heels echo down the hall. Alani takes a deep breath and her lungs are immediately filled with the familiar scent of vanilla. Her eyes carefully rake over the scene and land on a familiar white shirt hanging on the rack and the words “Enjoy Health, Eat Your Honey.”
“Thief,”
“I meant to return it.”
Alani spins on her heel and Harry stands with his fists shoved deep inside the pockets of his flared pants, eyes cast down at the floor. She tugs on the sleeves of her coat and offers a shy smile. 
“It’s okay, looked better on you anyway.”
A brief silence follows and they size each other up like it’s a gunfight, each waiting to see who will draw first. His hair is longer and curlier, Alani notices, chest and shoulders broader, too. But there’s a familiarity in his creased brow and in the heart shaped curve of his cupid’s bow. Harry does his own inventory; dark, almond shaped eyes, check. Round face, cinnamon skin, check and check. Her long, wavy locks are now shoulder length, but he’d recognize the scent of Baby Honey anywhere. The two are absorbed in their own silent assessments for a moment longer, but Alani quickly gets the urge to flee after she counts too many similarities between this Harry and the one that left her with a broken heart. 
“I should go,” she croaks, taking a step back. “I shouldn’t have come—”
“Why did you?” Harry asks earnestly. 
Alani tugs at a loose thread on her sleeve before crossing her arms. “Saw your name outside and got curious. For a while there, I started to think that maybe I imagined you,”
Harry doesn’t know what to do with the knowledge that he had haunted her as much as she had plagued him. He had spent so long believing that he meant nothing to her, but nevertheless, a part of him left room for her return. 
“You did, this is a hologram projection,”
Alani smiles and her shoulders relax at his humor. It really was him. 
“Did you enjoy—”
“I didn’t see the show—” they speak at the same time, eager words overlapping. 
“Oh,” Harry laughs softly. “You didn’t miss much,”
Alani shakes her head and takes a single step forward. “No, that’s not true. I’m sure it was amazing,”
Harry offers a coy grin, the shadow of a dimple on his left cheek. One hand emerges from his pocket and his knuckle brushes against the tip of his nose. Alani catches sight of the silver rose on his finger and she still remembers how it feels under the pad of her thumb. 
“Are you hungry?” he asks softly, pulling her from her reverie. 
“What?”
“Have dinner with me?”
Alani blinks, her throat suddenly dry. “Oh. Well I don’t know, I don’t wanna interrupt—”
“Never an interruption,” Harry assures her. 
She nods and he takes a step back. 
“M’gonna go change,” he explains. “I’ll just be a minute.”
“What, you don’t wear custom Marc Jacobs suits to dinner?” She teases. 
He grins, amused, and continues backing away towards the door before correcting her. “It’s Gucci.”
Alani rolls her eyes and he disappears into the hallway. 
When Harry reemerges in a beanie, puffy coat, and light wash denim jeans, he leads them through a series of tunnels and exits. 
“Where are we going?” Alani asks, bracing herself for the snow outside. 
“It’s a surprise.” he offers and she doesn’t fight him on it.
********
“We’re not eating here?” 
A soft smile falls on Harry’s lips. He hadn’t realized just how much he missed her incessant questioning. 
“No,”  he replies, opening the passenger door with one hand and passing her the bag that contains their dinner. “Too crowded,”
“Oh,” 
It made sense that Harry would want to keep a low profile and avoid any possible paparazzi sightings of the two of them, but it still felt strange to worry about such things after they had lived so carefree in Hawai’i. But that was then, and this was now, things had inevitably changed. 
“D’you wanna play some music?” Harry asks, settling behind the wheel. The parallels between this moment and their first excursion together make her chest tighten. 
“How about,” Alani starts. “Your album? Since I didn’t get to hear it live,”
Harry’s breathing hitches. “Well, I dunno—”
“Please?”
He meets her pleading eyes momentarily and, against his better judgment, agrees. 
“What’s it called?” she questions. 
“It’s just my name,”
“Self-titled, very classy. I like it,”
“I thought about calling it Sign of the Times,” Harry reveals. “But it’s already been done before,”
Alani hums. “Prince,”
“Yeah,” he nods. “But then I also thought about going with ‘Pink,’ because, you know, when in doubt—”
“Go with the pink one,” they say in unison and Alani smiles softly. How had he remembered that?
“And it’s the only true rock ‘n roll color,” she continues. 
Harry beams. “Exactly. But then Jeff suggested that we just go with the name. Simple, but effective,”
“Okay, so now that we’ve got the background,” Alani pokes. “And you’ve sufficiently distracted me, can I listen now?”
He swallows and checks the GPS, still twenty-five minutes to go. 
“How about we hold off,” he suggests. “Just for now so we can listen to the full thing and really soak it in?”
Alani backs off. “Alright, deal.”
She presses shuffle on the playlist of her frequently played songs for the month and immediately regrets doing so. Clearing her throat, she goes to press skip but Harry stops her. 
“S’a good one.” he says gently, so Alani lets Adele fill the awkward space. 
If you’re gonna let me down 
Let me down gently don’t pretend 
That you don’t want me 
Our love ain’t water under the bridge
********
Harry opens the passenger door and Alani steps out, her eyes squinting to make out any recognizable landmarks in their surroundings. They remain a comfortable two feet apart and make their way to the entrance of what appears to be some sort of greenhouse. Alani is filled with more confusion, but she doesn’t ask further questions until they reach the white double doors. 
“What?” Harry questions. “Never been to the New York Botanical Garden?”
Alani’s eyes widen. “The—wait, you—we’re?”
“After you,” he chuckles lightly, opening the doors. 
“Are we even allowed? I mean is it open?”
“I pulled some strings,”
She enters cautiously, immediately met with an archway of blush colored flowers and string lights that takes her breath away. A long, narrow pond in the center reflects the image back and creates a kaleidoscope of pink, green, and golden hues. 
“How did you,” Alani begins, at a complete loss for words. “Who are you?”
Harry nods in the direction of an adjacent hallway. “There’s a ballroom set up for a wedding tomorrow night, but Jim said we could crash as long as we clean up after ourselves,”
“Jim?”
“The director.”
“Of course.” 
Sure enough, round tables with cream colored tablecloth and elaborate floral centerpieces are arranged around the room. A delicate, yet undoubtedly expensive, chandelier twinkles in the center of the room and casts such a warm glow that Alani momentarily forgets about the snow outside. 
“Dig in,” Harry instructs, setting the pasta on the table in front of them. 
Alani sits and gently sheds her winter coat as he does the same. Underneath his jacket, Harry wears a yellow shirt that catches her eye with the words “treat people with kindness” printed in black lettering. She freezes when she spots a gold chain with a sun and moon pendant nestled comfortably between above the words.
“How is everyone?” Alani questions politely to shift her attention. “Mitch, Tom, Jeff,”
“They’re good, yeah,” he nods. “How’re Freddie and your family?”
“They’re fine, and he’s living his blissful little life,”
“Good for him. Miss his cuddles,”
And yours, Harry thinks, but he pulls back. Alani offers a shy laugh and thinks about the elephant in the room yet to be addressed: the break-up. It’s worth discussing, but she sure as hell isn’t going to be the one to bring it up. 
“And how’ve you been?” Harry asks when the silence stretches out for too long. 
Alani chews and ponders the question. “Good. Been working a lot,”
“Where at?”
“Rolling Stone,”
“Really?” he beams. “That’s incredible, congratulations,”
“Thank you,” she replies graciously. 
Harry’s chin rests in his palm and he twirls a noodle around his fork. “So you live here?”
“Yeah, in the Village,”
“Wow. Greenwich Village, a real city-slicker now. Traded Stevie in for the Holland Tunnel?”
A bittersweet smile spreads across Alani’s lips at the memory of her beloved Bronco. “Sadly, yes. And you?”
“Malibu,” Harry divulges. “I hate the cold.”
“It’s not so bad. You can always cuddle up with the giant rats,” she jokes, which makes his nose scrunch.
“I’m just gonna pretend you didn’t say that,” 
“Speaking of pretend,” Alani wiggles her brows. “You were in a movie after all,” 
“I was,” 
“I didn’t watch it, sorry,” 
Harry feigns offense and Alani quickly back pedals. “I don’t like war movies!”
“And you hated my guts.” he teases, though it pains him that there might be some truth to his words. 
Alani shakes her head and fights the urge to reach across the table for his hand. “No, not really. It was kind of the opposite, actually.” 
Harry’s eye wanders to the outside of Alani’s wrist and a faint smile creeps across his face when he spots the black outline of a crescent moon. He wonders if there are any new inked designs that he isn’t aware of. Despite all the time that has elapsed, there is a familiarity in her presence that he hadn’t felt even in the comforts of his California residence. It was like kicking off your shoes in the doorway after a long trip. It was like coming home. 
They finish their meal and continue their light-hearted banter into the night. Harry tells his favorite stories from tour and Alani wishes more than anything that she could have been there. She details the events of her own busy life in New York and the highlights of working for Rolling Stone, one of which being the time that she got to meet Stevie Nicks in the flesh. 
“Did you tell her about your car?” Harry presses enthusiastically. 
“No way,” Alani chuckles, draining the last of her drink. “I wasn’t gonna embarrass myself in front of the Supreme,” 
“I think she would’ve found it flattering,” 
“Naming your child after someone is flattering, not a car,” 
Harry shrugs. “I think it’s cute,” 
“Yeah well,” Alani sighs. “You’re not like most people,”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” 
She mulls it over, studying the familiar sea glass irises that she never thought she’d see again. What had Alani meant by that statement? Truthfully, she didn’t know if she could put it into words, nor had she meant to say them in the first place. But something about Harry always made her feel brave, like she could speak her mind uncensored and he would understand without even trying. 
“I just meant that you’re, you know,” she starts. “Not judgemental. Like, I could tell you that I think I’m part alien and you’d probably try to help me find my home planet,” 
Harry laughs and leans forward with his elbows on the table, an unspoken challenge for Alani to continue her thoughts. 
“You make people feel seen and heard,” she says finally with a wistful look in her eye. “I mean, why do you think all those people lined up to see you tonight?” 
The last part of her statement is a deflection from what she really wants to say, which is that Harry makes her feel seen and heard. Despite all the time and space between them, it was still true and it terrified her. There was only so much bravery that Harry’s presence could evoke. The mood shifts suddenly when Alani’s phone buzzes and the name “Mason” with a pink heart emoji lights up the screen next to her glass of water. Harry hadn’t meant to look and he deeply regrets that he did. 
“You have a boyfriend,” he comments dejectedly, and though he hadn’t meant it to be accusatory, all words carry the sting of judgment when falling on guilty ears. 
“Oh, and I’m sure you’ve stayed celibate this entire time,” Alani bites back. 
Harry’s brow furrows. “I wasn’t—I didn’t mean—”
“I’m sorry, this was a mistake,” she apologizes, standing with her coat. 
“Wait,” he jumps up. “What just happened?”
“I have to go—”
“Just stop for a minute, please,”
Alani stops in her tracks and turns back to face Harry slowly. His jaw is tight and the crease between his eyebrows is deeper than she remembers. 
“I’m sorry,” she begins carefully. “Thank you for tonight, but I really shouldn’t be here—”
Harry’s eyes clamp shut and he runs a frustrated hand through his messy curls.  
“Can you stop acting like you’re doing me a favor by leaving and just talk to me?”
“What do you want me to say?” Alani pushes back. “‘I’m sorry that I saw your name in flashing lights and I got caught trying to spy on you’?”
“Alani—”
“‘I’m sorry that I tried to move on’?”
“Stop apologizing—”
“I’m sorry that I fell in love and fucked it all up because I was afraid and I’m sorry that I betrayed the one person who meant everything to me,”
Silence falls between them and the only sound is the sniffling of Alani’s nose as she tries, and fails, to hold back the emotions that pour over. 
“That’s why I went,” she continues, voice wavering. “Because I’m selfish and I couldn’t stay away. Every single day, I’m reminded of how royally I screwed everything up and it tears me apart, so I went to try to make things right and take some of that pain away. Even though I hurt you and there’s nothing I can ever do to change that,”
Harry swallows hard and his eyes sting, but Alani speaks up again before he can respond. 
“So please,” she begs. “Please, just let me finally do something right by you and let me go,”
He takes a cautious step forward and shakes his head. “I don’t want to,”
They both hold their breaths, anticipating the other person’s next draw. 
“And maybe that makes me selfish too,” Harry adds. “‘Cause I went back that day, back to the hotel,”
Alani blinks. “You did?”
“Yes,” he nods. “Because I wasn’t mad that you published the article, I was scared that it was the only reason you were with me—”
“Harry—”
“But then I realized that I didn’t care,” he laughs dryly. “Because I still loved you, and I figured that having you— having just a little bit of your heart and your attention—was worth it, even if you didn’t really love me back,”
He takes another step forward and the toes of their shoes nearly touch. “And maybe I’m being selfish now by asking you to stay, but you’re not the only one trying to get rid of the pain,”
Alani takes a shallow breath and studies the eagerness in his eyes. The sight makes her chest pound. 
“I’m sorry that I ever made you doubt,” she whispers. “But I meant every word I said, you were everything to me. You were the sun that my life revolved around and I was terrified of losing you because the truth is that I hate the cold, too,”
Harry gently reaches a hand up to her cheek and Alani leans into the warmth of his touch. 
“Can I show you something?”
You and your goddamn surprises. “Yes.”
He leads them down several winding hallways before flicking a light on in the gallery. Alani’s heart stops when she sees it. 
“Not quite as impressive as the real thing,” Harry offers. “But Ms. O’Keeffe did a pretty damn good job,”
An original Georgia O’Keeffe painting of a waterfall, their waterfall, the one that Alani had mentioned all that time ago, is displayed proudly on the wall before them. A replica had hung above the bed they shared on many nights and all at once a faint memory resurfaces. 
“Where did you say the original was?”
“New York Botanical Garden,” 
 “M’gonna take you one day,”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
Alani takes a step closer to the artwork and examines the details of the oil on canvas. A few steps behind, Harry is only concerned with her reaction and pays little attention to the piece of art on display. As far as he was concerned, Alani was the only one worth admiring. 
“Do you remember what you told me when I asked why you went to the falls to write?” Alani asks. 
Of course Harry had, but he remains silent to let her continue. 
“You said that you liked going there,” she adds, deliberate. “Because it made you forget about every bad thing that ever happened to you, because none of it was real in comparison to the feeling of standing in front of that waterfall,”
Harry nods gently, but he still doesn’t speak. 
“Do you know what that feeling is called?”
“No,”
“It’s called home,” Alani says softly, turning to face him. “It’s what I felt, what I feel, when I’m with you,”
His breath hitches and he stands frozen as she carefully walks toward him.
“And while we’re making wishes come true,” she smiles delicately. “I never told you what I wished for the day we saw that rainbow,”
“What did you wish for?” Harry searches. 
Alani’s eyes fall to his parted lips. “That you would kiss me.”
His mouth curls at the edges and he releases a long breath. “Think maybe I can deliver on that one, too.”
Harry leans in, ever so slightly, and Alani closes the gap. They had been standing mere inches apart, but the meeting of their lips bridges an entire chasm. Over and over again, like waves against the shore, their mouths collide desperately as they pull each other closer with no intentions of ever letting go. 
********
February 14, 2018
“Comment est le temps?” 
Alani peers up at Harry and shields her eyes from the sun behind his back. “What does that mean?”
He grins softly and kisses the top of her head before taking a seat on the balcony next to her. 
“Means ‘how’s the weather?’,” 
“Oh,” she leans over, lips puckered for a kiss. “Full of perfectly Parisian sunshine,”
“Try sayin’ that ten times fast,”
Alani swipes his pink, heart shaped sunglasses and slips them onto the bridge of her nose with a contented sigh. Ahead, the Eiffel tower stands proudly in the distance and the lenses of her glasses tint the entire scene in a picturesque rosy glow. 
“La Ville de L’amour,” she hums. “Did I say that right?”
“Oui,”
“Hey, you know what I saw on the room service menu?”
Harry shakes his head. “No, what?”
“Piña coladas,” Alani wiggles her brows. “Think they deliver at midnight?”
He chuckles lightly and his hand takes purchase on her knee. “They better,”
“Never had a Parisian piña colada. Sounds romantic, though.”
“Sure does, sweets.”
Alani stands and reaches for Harry’s hand. He accepts and rises to his feet, pulling her close. Below, the sounds of the city serenade them as they gently sway in the chilly breeze. When Harry feels Alani shiver, he hugs  her to his chest and rests his chin comfortably on the top of her head. She feels his steady heartbeat against her cheek and smiles softly, fingertips smoothing up and down his back. 
“Are you ready for Valentine’s Day surprise number one?” he asks, pulling away slightly to meet her eyes. 
She narrows her eyes. “Where are we going?”
Harry pulls back with a mischievous smile, hands still attached to hers, and leads them back inside.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.”
Alani giggles but she doesn’t push. Instead, she happily follows him out of their room, down the hall, and into the bustling streets of Paris. 
We don’t know where we’re going 
But we know where we belong 
And oh we started 
Two hearts in one home 
It’s hard when we argue 
We’re both stubborn 
I know, but oh
Sweet creature, sweet creature 
Wherever I go, you bring me home 
Sweet creature, sweet creature
When I run out of road 
You bring me home
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fanficsandfluff · 3 years
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The Snyder Cut: Headcanons (mostly of the tickly nature)
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Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ Batfleck, my love
He’s such a lover boy, and I can say that though I don’t exactly know how to explain what I mean. You just gotta understand.
He cares so strongly about EVERYONE. e v e r y o n e. Alfred, fucking loves the guy, jokes with him. The fucking “This is Alfred, I work for him.” MY MAN, STOP!
I think he just really wants to get along with everyone and wants everyone to get along in general.
But he lowkey crushes on Diana (at least in his mind, he’s keeping it lowkey, but we all see what’s happening)
I love the idea of this big hunk of a man getting soft with someone like Diana. 
She makes him genuinely laugh this one time by saying something funny, and then they’re both laughing together. 
Bruce definitely has one of those laughs where he throws his head back and shit and you can see his like Adam’s apple bobbing and everything.
But that’s if he’s really laughing.
And he has loud “HA”’s that are like really short but loud and then he kinda just snickers to himself for a while, holding his stomach.
And dude, the scene in freaking uhh… i think it’s BvS I’m not 100% (maybe i fucking imagined it who knows) where she like comes over to him and is fixing his wound….. tickle scenario hand picked from the gods right there
I can see a whole, “Woah!” from Bruce when Diana traces her fingers on some sensitive skin. And that Gal Godot smile is on her in an INSTANT. 
Bruce will laugh if he’s with the right person. Like I headcanon that if he’s being tickled, he will laugh if it’s done by Diana or Barry, then like he’ll be forced to laugh if it’s Clark bc he overpowers the poor bat, but then he just has these hilarious bouts of angry growls and chuckles if Arthur is going after him. 
I can’t even write about Batfleck being a ler because I will literally explode, so I’m done here 
(((((butseriouslyifanyonewantstotalklerbatfleckwithmehmuplz)))))
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Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) 
I know the GIF isn’t from ZSJL but just let me live, ok? (Also I couldn’t find the one of Gal wiggling her fingers YOU KNOW THE ONE I’M TALKING ABOUT)
First off, Gal is the most horrible queen of giggles. I’ve seen those blooper reels. My god, girl, how do you keep getting hired?
SHE HAS SUCH A BIG SMILE IT’S LIKE THE ROCK IDK HOW THEIR TEETH AND MOUTH GET SO WIDE LOOKING
Diana will start tickle fights without a doubt.
She’s already very trustful and I also feel pretty handsy with people, especially those she may feel close to. So if she’s playful, you best watch out.
Her favorite targets are Bruce and Barry. I will not take criticism. Diana attacking Barry and reducing him to panicky shrieky laughs is my #1 thought. It’s not even living rent free, I’m commissioning it to be there.
Diana is one to laugh with her victims. She will wreck them and have a great time doing so. 
She’ll be ticklish if she wants to be, but it isn’t often she gets pinned and tickled or anything like that.
The guys try to stay away from her or not go after her with tickles for fear of retaliation.
AQUAMAN, CYBORG, SUPERMAN, AND THE FLASH UNDER THE CUT
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Arthur Curry (Aquaman)
So…. my man isn’t really ticklish. I really don’t think he is, I feel like his Atlantean genes make his skin a special kind of hard, if that makes sense?
THAT BEING SAID ARTHUR IS THE BIGGEST LER OMGGG
He’ll try and act all cool and ‘whatever’ around the League cuz that’s kind of his persona.
But he slowly gets to like them more and more and his playful side starts to come out.
He’ll tickle Barry out of pure annoyance. Like if Barry makes any kind of comment, he’ll just point his finger out and get that glint in his eye and Barry is sprinting for the hills.
Here’s my favorite headcanon: Arthur will tickle Bruce because he knows it pisses him off when he does it. Bruce will fight back and keep Arthur in his sights at all time and curse and growl at him. And Arthur thinks it’s hilarious.
Arthur as a ler will taunt and tease until the cows come home
“Huh, big guy? What’s that? Ahawww that’s what I thought!... Not so fast/tough/etc. now!... I will wreck you.”
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Victor Stone (Cyborg)
Unfortunately… not ticklish. :(
But this boy has the sweetest laugh you will ever hear, and I will die on that hill. 
Now that he has friends (superpowered friends, no less), he can slowly come alive and be himself. 
I can see Victor not getting involved in tickle fights at first, but at a certain point he’ll be all like, “Okay, step aside so we can do this right” and just PIN THE SHIT OUT OF WHOEVER IS BEING TICKLED. His extra robot arms are killer!
Okay, when he laughs for the first time in front of the group, there’s that cliche moment of pause where everything stops and everyone just stares and listens to him. It’s so rare to hear him laugh because the poor kid barely even smiled around them in the beginning. 
He SMIRKS
Now hear me out on this…
Okay, so half a face. Great. Weird. We love it. But you can see all of mischievous Victor when the guy SMIRKS. You see his eye squint and you can swear his robot eye gets a gleam of a different color. 
Wait honestly as I was writing that, the thought of Victor’s eye and like his apparatus changing color based on his mood is golden.
Me sitting here, lowkey wishing Victor’s robot body had some kind of cuddly mode like Baymax lmfaoooo 
Like the defense mode his body went into when he was around resurrected Supes, but for cuddles and being cute.
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Clark Kent (Superman)
I was debating even including any headcanons for Superman bc I don’t care about him much, honestly.
I am v happy they kept in the whole ‘him staring at Flash through the speed storm’ scene bc I laughed so hard at that the first time i saw Josstice League in the theater. 
Also I didn’t really like the black superman costume??? I’m not a comic buff, so I’m assuming that’s why. I am like the one person who missed the color from the Josstice League cut. Don’t miss the stupid red sky in the finale, but I miss every other ounce of color that was just SUCKED right out of the Snyder Cut.
Clark and Bruce are besties now, I don’t make the rules. Bruce bought the man his house back. By buying the bank. He’ll take care of him.
And I’ve always simped for those two ever since BvS, bc I’ve already written like two fics where they tickle each other. 
Clark overpowering Bruce to tickle the shit out of him makes me so happy lol. Big strong boy Batfleck looking thiccc over here… but put him against Superman and he’s donezo. Because as mentioned earlier, I do think Bruce is pretty ticklish. 
But Clark can have his lee side when he’s feeling nice
He’s got that mighty chuckle, almost like how Thor might laugh. 
And he really likes getting involved in tickle fights with the League. He knows all of them are sorta afraid of him on the daily anyway, but have that power added to a tickle fight and it’s fun as hell. 
He’s gotten taken down by them ONCE. And I mean exactly (1) O N C E.
They all teamed up. Bing, bang, boom. Pinned him to the floor and they each took an area of skin and fucking SQUEEZED AND WIGGLED. They were trying to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. And dangummit, he laughed a lot! Like Clark realized just how ticklish he could feel if he wanted to feel it. 
And don’t even get me started on Lois, he’s big on getting her to giggle and she likes toying with him and running her hands all over his body (bc who wouldn’t?)
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Barry Allen (The Flash)
I waited to write about Barry last because I have so much to say about this character....
and then I fell asleep and waited until the next day to write anything down about him so now I’m totally not in the mood and I forgot all the salient points I was planning on making.
fuck you, michelle.
I got a weird relationship with this character. He was mad annoying in the Josstice League. Thank goodness they trimmed his bad jokes down.
But now....
when he got hurt at the end and he was like crying and shit oh my god I wanted to hug him
His character got so... good
And I’m now at the right age where I can think about myself in a relationship with this character with no changes or shame
We both out here trying to find that one good job after college and everything
BARRY JUST WANTS FRIENDS, GUYS
HE’S THAT CUTE
And then he got this whole found family schtick with the Justice League!!! Lookit him!!! Thriving!
He has total little brother energy
like, pesky little brother. Bothers everyone, looks over people’s shoulders while they’re deep in thought or concentrating on something.
Asks a lot of questions.
All the more reason for the gang to want to tickle the shit out of him.
Barry just reads like a super ticklish lee. Like his whole character.
Maybe touch starved because he said he needed friends, and I don’t think he has siblings??? (sorry if i’m wrong about that, comic fans)
I already named some of my fav headcanons about him getting tickled by like Diana and such, and I’m sticking with it.
Barry does flee. He runs away with super speed.... but sometimes he just kinda wants the tickles so he lets them have at him. 
The chase is all part of the fun with tickling Barry, though. That’s what makes it so entertaining. And Barry isn’t afraid to be a little shit about it either. He will super-speed around his pursuers and poke their sides and tickle them back really quickly before they even know what’s happening. 
Barry doesn’t exactly hold back his laughter lol. He’ll protest and scream and squirm like crazy, but once he’s actually tickled, he loses it.
Pure boy. With funny ass facial expressions.
And it really doesn’t help that I never realized just how hot Ezra Miller is, even though I heard he’s not a great person irl. Oh well.
THAT’S ALL FOLKS!
Please please let me know if y’all have things to add, to squee over, to question me about... please. anything. i’m here for you. thanks for reading, guys!
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Under A Storm - Bucky Barnes x mystery (f)reader Avenger
Summary: You’ve been in love with Bucky for awhile now, and so has he, what will happen when you reveal your true origins? Will he still love you?
Warning: got some good’ol angst, fluffy times with Bucky I don’t hate you I promise
Masterlist
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“I think I’m winning. Just putting that out there.” You quip, not even breaking a sweat as Bucky uses everything in his power to get your arm to budge, even just a little.
“I’m trying...just give me a moment..” Grumbles Bucky as he strains to keep his metal arm from reaching defeat at the end of the table.
For the entirety of the day the two of you have been wandering around the Avengers base with nothing better to do then annoy Tony in his lab, and harass Clint who’s recovering from a broken arm while everyone else is off somewhere in the Netherlands, probably freezing their asses off.
Luckily for you, Steve said this was your vacation week, while Bucky on the other hand was told to hang back while his abdominal scars heal up nice and pretty. And since you could care less about heading down south to some fancy and excessively hot beach all on your lonesome, you’ve decided to keep your friends company. Especially Bucky.
But if you’re being honest with yourself here, you mostly just stayed to spend time with Bucky. Ah yes, that beautifully handsome blue eyed bastard with the metal arm and incredibly good looks paired with an equally as stellar personality.
It’s almost like the universe said “I know you’ve had a hard time down there so here’s this literal angel for you, you’re welcome, lots of love now go and do nothing about it sucker.”
It’s not like you didn’t want to make a move, it’s just, you’re origins are so different from his. In fact, your ass isn’t even from earth! You’re not even an actual human being! Granted you look humanly enough, separate from the fact that you’ve got a beautiful pair of darkly colored curled horns, and eyes the color of fire embers that reflects light due to your nocturnal vision.
But other then those little oddities about yourself, you look pretty normal, even more so when wearing a hoodie and sunglasses. Which has become a staple of your usual street attire in general and even when on missions.
Even with all the mystery that still surrounds you and that you’ve kept hidden within yourself since you’ve met him, Bucky likes having you around anyway, and without a doubt you are his favorite person on the team.
Smiling adoringly, you chuckle while Bucky struggles to pin your arm to the table, while your arm holds his up with little effort due to your inhuman strength.
He’s trying really hard, putting all of his effort and sweat into winning this round, which would be the first if he does happen to win, which you already know won’t be happening today, nor the next week.
“Just give me a moment.” Mutters Bucky through clenched teeth as his metal arm adjusts and readjusts to use as much strength as physically possible by this special Wakandian tech.
Blowing air out of your lips, you casually rest your head against your knuckles on your free hand as you wait for him to finally crack, “Just tap out or I’ll pin you again. And I know how much you hate losing.”
“I’m not tapping out Y/N.” Says Bucky defensively as he focuses all his energy into moving your arm even just an itty bitty inch, something, anything.
“Fine then.” You reply before slamming his metal arm against the table with a loud clang that rings throughout the entire lounging area. He quickly gives you an annoyed look as your face turns into a bright grin.
“I hate you.” Grumbles Bucky as he leans back into the couch.
Snatching your water bottle from the side table, you take a swig before shrugging, “We don’t have room in this house for weak bitches. Barnes I’m sorry to say this but....you’ve gotta go.”
Bucky shakes his head in annoyance before the corners of his eyes begin to crinkle, followed by his beautiful smile and then that contagious laugh. “Y/N I couldn’t make it without you, please be kind.” He pleads jokingly as you set the bottle down.
“I’ll consider your words.” You muse with a dramatic hair flip as he reaches over to take the half empty bottle of water, drinking it all in one long chug that has you memorized for a good ten seconds.
Snapping out of your Bucky-being-unknowingly-hot-without-realizing-it trance, you quickly fake pout, “My water you ass!”
“I’m from Russia so it’s our water.”
“Shut up you just lived there.” You retort before giving him a double take, “And hey.”
“Ah, come on doll let’s go bother Clint again.” Suggests Bucky as he rises to his feet and walks around the table to pull you to yours as well. God all you wanna do is kiss that stupid face of his and shove him back down onto the couch and...
“Hey guys what’s up.” Chirps Clint as Bucky wanders into Tony’s lab, you following right after.
Nodding to him in acknowledgment, you casually shrug while looking around at the various contraptions and work-in-progresses, “Oh you know, the usual.”
“Here to lighten up the place? Things were getting pretty dull.” Confirms Clint just as Tony walks out of the bathroom.
“I heard that. And what? Are we not having fun? Are you not entertained?”
“I’m entertained all right.”
“Exactly.” Points Tony before shifting his attention over to Bucky, “Speaking of entertainment. I need you for a little something out back involving a knife and you throwing it at a couple things I’ve been testing out.”
“He’d love too.” You add with a beaming grin as Bucky turns to glare at you, noticing his agitation you quickly take a step forward and squeeze his shoulders, “Right?”
Pursing his lips together, Bucky turns his head to face an expectant Tony before glaring back down at you, “Sure.”
“Alright great! Just follow me and let’s blow this popsicle stand.” Claps the genius enthusiastically as he gathers a bag full of various materials, making certain to snatch a camera before making for the door. Oh, you’ve gotta watch that tape later.
Releasing your grip from Bucky’s broad shoulders, you hand him a small smile, “Hehe sorry.”
“You owe me you little asshole.” Jokes Bucky with an apprehensive smirk as he swiftly touches your chin affectionately before turning to jog out the door after Tony.
Smiling like a fool in love, you suppress a childish giggle as Clint loudly slurps down a smoothie, “You got it bad kid, you really do.”
Raising a brow at him, you walk over to the swivel chair he’s seated comfortably on and take the free spot on the table nearby, “I’m almost as old as the dinosaurs so don’t call me kid.” You sass, causing him to chuckle.
“Fair point. But still, you’ve got it bad Y/N.” Rolling your ember irises, you let out a huff of air as he grins knowingly, “Decide on telling him anytime soon or are we waiting for something tragic to happen first?”
“I’ll get around to it.” You mutter unenthusiastically as Clint takes another long pause to awkwardly suck down his weirdly colored smoothie.
“Sure. Okay, and I believe the earth is flat.” Snorts Clint, his words absolutely dripping in sarcasm.
Scoffing you throw a dirty cloth at him before letting your head fall into your hands, “It’s too fucking difficult Clint. I’m too goddamn weird.”
“What?” Laughs Clint in bewilderment, genuinely surprised that you would say such a thing considering he’s know you for years and finds that completely false, “I don’t believe that for a second.”
“No it’s true.” You mumble against your palms, “He doesn’t know about everything about me yet, I don’t wanna freak him out just as he’s starting to like me alright.”
“Ah, so he does like you.” Confirms Clint with a knowing nod, “I knew it.”
“Yeah me too.”
Nodding slowly once again, the archer stands and makes the less then 1 foot distance to reach you. Head still in your hands, he gently knocks a fist against one of your horns as you try your best to ignore his existence.
“Knock. Knock. Anyone home?” Asks your friend as he awaits in hope that he can talk some real sense into you about your strong feelings for Bucky. “Please, I know you’re in there Y/N, time to open up.”
Cracking a smile at his theatrics, you slowly release your head from your palms to greet him with an annoyed half glare, “By the way I am not waiting for something terrible to happen. I have my reasons okay.”
“Your reasons being...”
Biting your lip, you pull your legs up to sit cross legged on the table, “You don’t get it Clint, I’m me alright. I’m not from this planet, I’ve got horns, I can sense peoples emotions, and since my mother is Goddess of the Underworld I’m technically herald of bringing this earth to a bloody and violent end!” You shout as he keeps the most irritating of faces on, making your anger rise by the second.
“Isn’t it nice to talk about our feelings.” Replies Clint in the most soothing voice you’ve ever heard, if you weren’t so flustered right now you could probably have laughed.
“Fuck off Clint I’m in love and he doesn’t know that shit part about me.” You grumble with a frown, “Bucky doesn’t know anything.”
“Well...” Wonders Clint for a brief moment, “Maybe he should. I mean you said it yourself, he does have affections for you.”
“Oh I know he does, every time I’m around him he smells like what happiness and love smells like.”
“Which is?”
“Hard to describe in this world, but it’s the best smell in existence.” You admit with the smallest of smiles as you think about Bucky, “Clint why do I have to feel this way? Why does he have to love me? I’m destined for terrible things....or, well...I was, but still.”
Noticing how your eyes have suddenly glossed over, Clint holds your shoulder while giving you a reassuring smile, “Y/N, listen to me. You will never do anything like that, you’re too morally correct and are almost the embodiment of a kitten for that shit anyways. And I know Bucky will love you either way, because he’s Bucky and that man needs a wild woman like you in his life to keep things interesting. You’ll be fine, believe me.”
Shutting your eyes tight, you reveal the tiniest of smiles before looking at Clint, “Maybe you’re not just a pretty face after all. Thanks Clint I needed that.”
Taking a step back, be claps his hands together happily, “Why thank you. I’ve been watching a lot of Ted talks on our higher purpose and motivation recently and you gave me the perfect opportunity to test my insight.”
“Clint you’re ridiculous.” You laugh, “But still, I think it’s time to tell him. I just hope he’s okay after all is said and done because I don’t know what I’d do with myself if he walks away.” You worry.
“Well if he does I make the best margaritas...”
“Shut up.”
——
For the past half an hour your mind has been swimming with worries and thoughts about how Bucky may react when you tell him the full truth of your origins, and possible future that you’ve fought to keep away since you walked into this world.
He’s only a man, a full mortal, but you have grown to love him so much it hurts sometimes.
Your ember eyes watch as the trees sway back and forth with the moody wind who pushes and pulls them back. A storm is on the rise as giant puffy dark clouds appear in the far distance, causing the once sunny day to darken.
You slouch lazily in your comfy plush lounging chair, one that you easily dragged over to the nearest giant window to watch the clouds race by while you wait for Bucky to return. Getting lost in your drifting thoughts in the process.
“Guess we won’t be going for a walk today after all.” Interrupts Bucky from your jumbled mind, your head immediately turns to watch as he walks from the kitchen to your side by the window.
“Yeah, too bad. I’m not that mad though, I like listening to the thunderstorms.” You confirm with a casual shrug.
Bucky smiles down at you, head turning to watch as the wind rushes against the trees, “I guess there is a beauty in the chaos....but hey Y/N, you know what we could do now?”
Chuckling at his excited expression, you tilt your head up, giving him your full undivided attention, “I’m dying to know Buck.” You muse with a cute little smirk that unknowingly caused his heart to jump with happiness.
Breaking out into a shy smile, Bucky quickly runs his fingers through his less then shoulder length hair, “Uh, what do you say to a movie night? With me?” He asks cautiously, hoping you’ll say yes so he gets even the tiniest opportunity to maybe, possibly, cuddle you.
Your eyes shift back to the growing grey clouds as small water droplets flicker against the window, smiling to yourself, you swiftly stand and turn to face him, “That’s a compelling question...” You muse with a lopsided grin, your hand rising to touch the tip of your chin thoughtfully as he leans against the thick window with a bemused smirk, “And since you asked so nicely and look so very polite too, oh I guess it’d be a tragedy and lonesome night if I declined.” You laugh.
“It would be very lonely for sure.” Agrees Bucky, his face suddenly shifting to slight nervousness, “So uh....you in?”
Breaking out into a beaming grin, you playfully roll your eyes, “No shit I’m in.” You quip before walking past him and into the kitchen for a drink, Bucky following close behind.
He stops to lean his torso against the marble countertop as you fill up a glass of water, “Well I wasn’t completely sure, just checking.” He admits with a nervous chuckle. Bucky you are unbelievably adorable.
Finishing your drink, you roll your eyes as he hangs his head in slight embarrassment, “God Buck, it’s a good thing you’re pretty.” You jest, causing his cheeks to dust pink as he rises his head to meet your shimmering irises. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, incredibly glad that you can’t read minds like Wanda.
Little does he know you can sense emotions, smell them even if they’re strong enough; and if Bucky doesn’t just smell of love and absolute joy right. It’s the most adorable thing in the whole entire world, there’s no fucking way you’ll refrain from admitting your feelings tonight. It just wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t.
“Hey I’m trying here.” He protests half defensively, pushing himself off the counter as you walk around and head for the door. He’s at your side in a second, smile on and eyes trained on nothing but you.
Keeping your eyes forward, you bite your lip as he stares, suddenly his metal arm gives you a slight friendly nudge and now you have no choice but to look at his dumb face, “You think I’m pretty?” He wonders with a mischievous smirk.
“Yeah.” You mutter before pushing him to the side as he’s drifted comfortably close to you, “Pretty annoying.” You retort, doing your best to hold in your laughter as he takes offense and grips his chest dramatically.
“Y/N you monster.” Gasps Bucky, mouth a-gap as he watches you casually shrug.
“I am evil and cold blooded what can I say.” You muse back, a smug grin on your lips that Bucky would like nothing more then to kiss right now. Yet he refrains, not today, he needs to gather his courage first.
Turning the corner to the Avengers sleeping quarters, he quickly stops when he realizes none of you know which room to take, tugging at his sleeve you hand him a calming grin, “We’ll watch in mine. You’re bed is too hard anyways.”
“It is not.” He argues.
“It is too.”
“Not.”
“Well it is so shut up.”
“Not.”
Pushing him into his door, you raise a brow at him, “Just get the movie, I’ll be in my room waiting for your annoying ass.”
Shaking his head at your humorous sass, he quickly salutes you before opening up his door, “What are we thinking? Horror? Comedy? Adventure? All three?”
Taking a step forward, you lean in closer to Bucky; almost testing the waters, before lightly pushing him backwards by his strong chest, “Surprise me.” You quip, wiggling your brow once for emphasis. He breaks out into an adorable crooked grin as he watches you leave and close your own door right across from him.
After making record time changing into your comfortable movie watching sweatpants and some ten year old shirt from Nat that says SHIRT in red letters with the R in a dull grey. Yeah, its one of your favorites; you race to turn the tv on as rain pounds against the glass, one flash of lightening strikes in the distance as a knock sounds at your door. Bucky.
Bolting for the door so fast you almost trip on a stray hoodie, you quickly regain your cool before taking a breath and opening up the metal door. You’re immediately greeted with the smiling face of Bucky as he holds a movie and two beers.
Leaning nonchalantly against the door frame you meet him with the chillest guise you can muster, “So, you come here often?”
Bucky instantly chuckles at your amusing antics as a small blush creeps out over his stubbled cheeks, “Only when I’m invited.” He replies before holding up the movie, “Is this one good?” Hell yes, and you’re now in my room.
Snatching it out of his hand you pull him fully into the room by tugging on his red shirt without much warning, he practically stumbles in, quickly regaining his balance while you shut the door and practically swagger over to the bed. Bucky following close behind.
You gracefully jump onto the comfortable mattress and twist into a seated position before grabbing some kind of hand held scanner, Bucky awkwardly shuffling to the bedside as he then moves to find a spot against the headboard as you fumble around with the movie and whatever device is in your hand.
Raising a brow he watches in curiosity, “Uh, Y/N. What exactly is that?”
“A movie scanner made by Tony. I scan said film and boom it translates to the tv no problem. Technology right.”
He nods in understanding as you press some button and suddenly the movie is on the tv screen, set and ready to play, “Woah.” He mumbles, genuinely in awe of the advanced tech of today. And how fast you were able to do that, god you’re just the best, he thinks.
A second later he flinches back as you throw a pillow at his side, “Shit sorry.” You mutter almost shyly while crawling to his side, “Heads up.”
“Yeah thanks for the warning. I’ll sit on the floor next time until you give me the all clear.” Sasses Bucky as you sit, grabbing the pillow and smacking him on the side of his head while also pretending not to notice your little theatric as you turn towards the screen. Very nonchalant.
Bucky on the other hand is left with some disheveled hair and the dumbest smile on his handsome face while you press play and grab a beer from out of his right hand, “I’m gonna take this.” You add before gasping in excitement, “You wanna watch something?! I have a party trick! It’s a good one too, you wanna see!”
“Please.” Snickers Bucky as you turn to face him better. He watches in awe as you raise the bottle to your left horn and in one calculated motion, use the sharp tip to crack open the beer bottle. “Wow.”
“I know right!” You exclaim with excitement, “It took me a week to perfect it. I just kept breaking the bottles neck and then Steve would drink after cause he can’t get drunk so.....uh yeah, you want me to open yours too?”
“I’d be honored.”
After drinking both your beers and watching the movie progress in relative peace, with the occasional gust of wind against the glass and a crack of thunder and lightening here and there. All was going pretty well, Bucky was laying on his one side while you were laying on your stomach totally engrossed in the film until....
Crack! BOOM! Darkness.
“Dammit! They were getting to the best part!” You whine, shifting around to sit while dramatically yelling out your frustration as Bucky turns to lay on his back, suppressing bemused laughter while you curse the shit excuse for efficient electricity in this place.
“It’ll come back on soon.” He inquires, “Guess you’ll just have to talk to me now.”
Snapping your head over to him, you scoff, “Why do I feel like you planned this?”
“I thought you planned this? Considering.....well, I guess I don’t really know.” He says thoughtfully, pausing for a moment before he hums, “We could ask each other questions.”
Y/N this is the absolute perfect opportunity, take it you lovestruck idiot, “Uh, yeah sure....I like knowing things.” You internally cringe, wanting to smack your head for that one; and you thought you could go a full hour without embarrassing yourself. Nope.
Nevertheless, Bucky smiles in the darkness, “Alright uh, let me think.......hmm okay uh.....where are you from? Since I’ve never really asked about that before.”
Well, fuck. I guess he’s going for the big guns straight off the bat.
Biting your lip anxiously, you twist a piece of frayed fabric from your one strange little pillow as you gather your courage to finally tell him everything. This is it, no holding back, “Oh uh.....well......you know I’m not from earth, yes?”
“Yeah, I did know that. The horns.”
“Right, good.” You mutter, your voice wavering with nervousness so much that Bucky sits up and turns to properly look at you even if he can’t really see your face.
“Y/N, are you okay?” He worries, brows furrowing in concern.
Hastily you regain your once dampened composure, “Yes! Yes.....yeah, I’m good. Awesome. Great....”
“Y/N.”
“Yeah.”
“Is it because you had a bad childhood?” Quips Bucky, using your own inside joke against you to help lighten the mood and make you laugh.
Snorting in amusement you smack his arm, Bucky mentally rejoices when he hears the sweet song of your happiness coming back, and the light sting of your always powerful hand.
“I didn’t have a bad childhood Bucky.” You admit, voice suddenly somber and thoughtful, “I didn’t even have a childhood.” Already getting depressing Y/N, nice one.
“oh.”
You shrug, letting out an apprehensive sigh as you look from the window then back to Bucky again, while he tries to watch your every move in the blackness of the room, “Bucky....there’s some things in this world that are so incredibly hard to comprehend and fully understand....you’ve seen the power Wanda can create and the talent of the mind stone inside Visions head. Yes?”
He sits in deep thought at your intriguing words, trying to piece together where you may be going with this, “Of course. What does that have to do with you?”
“I wasn’t actually born like a normal being....rather, I was formed and created by my mothers will and raw power. I was molded by earth, thunder, magic, and chaos.....I am.....well..” You sigh, “I don’t really know.”
“Well that’s......neat.”
Cracking a small smile, you continue on, lest confuse him more, “My mother...which I assume you’re curious about by now. She’s essentially, goddess of the Underworld, keeper of beasts and master of chaos. Some type of divine something, who can really say when I’m not even sure.”
Bucky stays silent for longer then you would like, each extra second making you grow more nervous and regretful for revealing all this to him. Soon enough he answers, “So that means.....Y/N you’re technically a demigod?”
“I guess.”
He pauses for another moment before gently shaking your leg, “Y/N! That is the coolest thing anyone has ever said to me in my entire life.”
“What?” Is he serious?
“You’re a demigod! I’m sitting next to a demigod. Y/N I didn’t think you could be any more amazing then you already are.” Exclaims Bucky in awe as you cover your face in your hands, a flash of lightning illuminating your reaction.
Immediately he stiffens and feels maybe he shouldn’t have reacted that way, “oh, uh.....Y/N? Is that not a good thing?”
“No. Not really.” You mutter sadly.
Bucky frowns, “Please tell me why? Because I think you’re the best person alive and I don’t want you to be upset.”
Releasing your hands from your face, you let out a shaky breath, “It’s why I was created. Not out of love, or the want of a daughter.....she formed me so one day I will turn this world to ruin.”
“Why-I don’t understand?”
“She has made me live among the mortal before, in other realms, other planets very far away from here.....I learn about them, I see how they live, how they treat one another and if she sees that they are terrible and violent to each other through what I tell her....”
“Well, I imprison their world leaders, forcing them witness portals open to the Underworld...where beasts of all ugliness and terror wipe out most of the population.” You reveal, your voice breaking with every word, “I then kill all of them......and turn them to more beasts....hellhounds.....shadow creatures.”
You swallow hard as Bucky takes a moment to process the heavy imagery and story you’ve just told him. You can sense how conflicted he feels, he’s known you as the literal funniest and sweetest person ever; he’s come to fall in love with you even, how could you do such horrible things, “Did you enjoy it.” He asks, voice slightly colder then you would have liked, but you understand.
“It’s all I knew. It’s what she created me for, my only purpose. Her herald of death..I..I can’t say..”
“Did you?” He interrupts, sadness lacing his words now, the anger and disappointment only but a slight simmering in the back of his voice.
Your heart breaks in two, he feels hurt by this news of what you did to others, “I did.” You monster. He’ll never love you now.
The atmosphere is thick with emotional tension, if not for the sound of the raging storm outside, you’re certain you could hear a needle hit the carpet. His breaths are slow and heavy, you can tell he’s deeply conflicted with what to do now, yet he refrains from leaving your side.
“Why did you stop?” Asks Bucky, voice a soft whisper as a flash of lightning illuminates around your sides, ember eyes and two curled horns flashing for a brief moment and your heart sinks when he slightly flinches.
Hanging your head low, you nervously fumble with your hands, “Because I met someone....he reminds me of you actually, I guess I felt...” Biting your lip, you suck in a breath as a stray tear runs down the side of your cheek, “I fell in love....it was a long time ago, before this continent was discovered. He gave me humanity, empathy, and I saw what I was truly doing....I bared witness to the monster I truly was. So I ended it.”
You pause, nothing is said from either one of you for a long time until at last you break the tension, “I don’t deserve forgiveness from anyone. I hate my mother and my only friends are the people here. You don’t have to stay any longer then you want.”
“I want to stay.”
“oh.”
He takes another heavy sigh, “And this whole time I though I was the worst person on the team.” Muses Bucky to your great surprise and puzzlement.
“What? You’re not mad I don’t understand? Not even scared or disappointed...you’re just...uh...”
“I’m what? Y/N what wild thing are you about to tell me now? I cut it off with learning you’re a demigod who caused multiple apocalypse’s.”
Slowly sitting up a bit more, you fold your legs and fully face him as he tries to see you in the darkness, “I can kinda....uh....sense peoples emotions and umm....smell the scent if its strong enough.”
“Can you sense what I feel right now?” Asks Bucky, voice above a whisper though you hear it all the same.
Hugging your sides, you nod, “Yes.” He’s practically ecstatic, he feels relieved and grateful that you have trusted him enough to share something so deep and personal. He smells sweet, better then the most lovely of flowers or most delicious of fruits. He smells of love and hope, paired with a smile that could warm a frozen lake.
Reaching a hand out into the darkness, you quickly take his with yours as he brings his other one in to gently clasp your hands with his, “Don’t believe I would ever leave you Y/N....you mean more to me then anything else in this entire world and I’m honored to be someone so special to you. I hope this isn’t too soon or rushed but uh....I love you.”
The way you subconsciously tighten your grip on his hands is enough to indicate that his words have been well received, “I know Bucky.” You confirm with a small smile, “I love you too.” A second later his lips crash messily against the corner of your lips as he fails to completely find them in the darkness. oh, you idiot.
Smiling into the kiss, you pull him into a fierce hug as your lips move slowly and blissfully against one another, his hands quickly find their way around your waist as yours reach up into his long dark hair that you love so much. Moments after you and Bucky fall in a heap of tangled limbs onto the soft mattress, lips still feverously locked with one another. Soon he begins subconsciously smiling into the kiss which causes you to giggle with amusement for how absolutely adorable he’s being right now.
Confused to your cheerful laughter, Bucky breaks from the kiss to gently beck your cheek before resting his head against yours, “I wish I could see you right now.” Mumbles Bucky as he holds you flush against him.
Kissing his stubbly cheek, you quietly snicker, “I can see you.”
“Let me guess?” Humorously asserts Bucky as his fingers trail casually down and up your back, “You can see in the dark too......this whole time?”
“Yeah.”
“Do I look good?” He wonders.
“I’m gonna faint you’re so hot.”
And with that said does he pull you in for another heated embrace, tonight's defiantly going to go extremely well for you. Without a doubt.
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fanfic-collection · 3 years
Text
Loki x Reader: Apocalypse ch 1
A mysterious winter has fallen on Earth, Odin is back on his A+ parenting, you and Loki knew each other from the time Loki was recovering after his restored death in Endgame, your cousin Tony Stark isn't exactly thrilled. I'm bad at summaries but you and Loki and there was only one bed and you're going to have to travel with one tent in the snow
-
You looked out your third story apartment window, holding a cup of hot cocoa and shivered. Snow battered against the windows, frosting up the panes and sending an eerie fog along the once bustling city. Despite extra layers of clothes and socks, gloves and a coat, you shivered.
This was the third day of the snow.
In July.
The grey overcast sky showed no signs of letting up and the city’s infrastructure was barely handling it.
Citizens were encouraged to head to makeshift storm shelters that were being assembled, particularly those who couldn’t fend for themselves or keep enough heat or supplies.
You watched a red streak shoot across the sky and smiled.
Your second cousin Tony Stark. He was doing everything he could to keep his home city from falling into disarray. Your smile faded, not every city had a Tony Stark though.
Flipping on the weather channel and bundling up under a blanket, you watched the country’s news. People in the south were freezing in droves, ill equipped to handle such cold weather. Those further to the north were better equipped but even still, people were suffering. The military was assembled, distributing supplies to everyone, but supplies would run out eventually. The freeze had killed farms. The Avengers were scrambling to assist in any way they could, publicly urging people to assist their neighbors in any way they could.
The weather channel went global, and you saw that though the freeze had started in the states, it had spread quickly to the rest of the world. You watched the cold weather graph spread across the globe, temperatures dropping lower and lower. Snow beginning to fall more and more. Soon even Africa was in sub-freezing temperatures.
The reclusive Wakandans promised aid, but they would not admit how hard they had been hit either. Strong rumors suggested they were not immune to this calamity either.
Your cellphone buzzed.
Luckily cellphone service had not gone down yet. Tony Stark was working extra hard to keep communications up and running. Without communications, humanity would fall into darkness.
“Hey Tony.” You said, biting back shivers.
“Hey kiddo. Where are you, have you gone to one of the shelters?”
You sighed, “No, I stayed home.”
There was an angry pause, “Why?” You could hear Tony’s grit teeth.
“I didn’t want to take up someone’s place at the shelter, someone who needed it more than me. I can fend for myself. I know I can make it there and back if I need to, to get supplies and I have you if things really get bad.”
Tony grumbled, “Yea, you and everyone else rely on me.”
“You know you like playing savior.” You could practically feel him rolling his eyes over the phone.
“Look, just, stay safe alright.” Tony sighed, “I gotta get going.”
“Wait, Tony, I used to hang out with you and your buddies every day. Even after the blip for a little while.”
“Yea, I know.”
“Be honest with me, what’s going on?”
Another long pause.
“Tony?”
“I… I don’t know. Strange doesn’t know either. He doesn’t like it. He’s the Sorcerer Supreme he says, supposed to know all this crap, all the outside threats that threaten the Earth. Nothing. And without his eye of whatsit that we used the second time to bring everyone back, yours truly included.” Tony trailed off.
“Which we’re all eternally grateful for.” You smiled, choking up a bit.
“Yea.” Tony was quiet for a moment, “Listen, I gotta move some more supplies and check on the power grid. The tower is putting out a lot of energy for the city and I don’t know if it can keep up with how cold everything is.”
“Sure. Sure. Take care out there, ok?”
“You too. I’ll try and drop in sometime, maybe we can have dinner. I’ll see if I can get some of the others to check on you from time to time also.”
“You don’t have to, Tony.”
“You’re my niece.”
“Like, second cousin or something, how are we even related?”
“Cousin’s, aunt’s niece?”
“Something like that. Take care of yourself, stay warm.” You hung up and looked sadly at the phone as your apartment went quiet once more.
Your television had clicked off as unnecessary power was cut to your house at certain hours. The city had an ordinance ban on certain electricity. Only heat could stay on constantly. You had to make special exceptions to keep anything else running to keep the electric load on the city light, given how frigid it was.
Closing all the doors in your apartment, you dragged everything into the main room and the kitchen. Putting the bed out by the TV and using spare blankets to block the window for any drafts. You tried to insulate the place as best you could, limiting yourself to one room, and closing off the heat to the other room of your apartment. If you had less rooms to heat, you might stay warmer and use less electricity and perhaps be rewarded. And with all your movement, you ended up warming up a bit.
By the end you grew tired and crawled into your bed and curled up to sleep. That’s what people seemed to mostly do these days. Stay warm and hope the cold would go away. If they were called upon to do something productive, they did it. If not, they huddled with their families and prayed to whatever deity they believed in and hoped this possible ice age might pass.
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sashayaweh · 3 years
Text
Sam and Bucky dance to this song after having to take refuge in a safe house during a particularly high stakes mission. Theres a record player and Sam makes this necessary senior citizen taunts when he catches Bucky's frequent glances towards where it sits on the wooden shelf. Eventually, Sam walls over to fiddle with it because Bucky insists on faking disinterest, but Sam really wants to see him being not-so-boring for once. It was rare to see the other man take interests in his surroundings, barring the hyperawareness that he had for every environment he found himself in.
Sam could almost imagine Bucky's robo-brain whirring to calculate all the exits, people, and vantage points for any possible threat. He never seemed to fully relax. Even sitting in a chair, he sat stiffly as if he was ready to leap out at at any moment. Sam could understand. He wasn't brainwashed and weaponized for 70 years, sure. But he has seen war and death. Things he'd rather forget. And he's felt fear. The initial fear of the thousand foot free falls, the fear of the police and the banks, and the fear of losing himself in it all. So, Sam gets the mental burden and understands how hard it is to leave once you're in.
So, he fiddles with the record player and pretends not to know how to work it. There's no other records visible, but luckily one is still in place. Bucky would eventually get irritated and put everything into place because he knows what Sam is doing. And he knows that Sam knows. Because Sam knows everything. Bucky assumes this from the amount of time the other man spends talking. So, he puts the record on like old times and ignores the lump trying to force its way up and the memories that resurface. Steve-
"You're lucky, man. Etta James, and a classic at that, talk about a two for one. Looks like our luck it starting to turn around, CP30," Sam smile toothily and Bucky wants to do do something to that gap in his teeth. He doesn't quite know what that is yet. Maybe punch it because Sam knows he doesn't understand that obvious reference. But Sam's smile soften to a close, and the corners curl at the edges as his head begins to sway with the notes. Like silk curtains, his eyes slip close in simple pleasure as if he was settling himself into the music.
Bucky watches and feels awkward. At some point, in the past, he would know what to do in the situation. He would know what to do with the violins and the soulful tones curling words of longing into the air. And tired fulfillment. Maybe, he would know what to do with Sam but he doubts it. Or at least how to...be himself. Maybe then they wouldn't argue for once. Sam opens his eyes and looks over to see Bucky who stood, stone faced and deep in thought. The focus of his hooded stare was intense and Sam scoffed. The other man was being broody again.
"Are you even listening to the music or did you zone out again?" He shifts, slightly elbowing his companion and Bucky blinks, his thoughts shifting back to the present.
"You started talking, I couldn't help myself," Bucky quips and Sam let's out a soft scoft that becomes a short laugh. Bucky feels his own lips twitch.
"You gotta relax, man. You could beat a piñata with the stick you have up your ass," Sam shakes his head. That wide tooth smile is back but this time its less cocky and a little more warm. Bucky rolls his eyes and looks away. He does that a lot. At least he understood the reference this time.
Sam sighs and stops the music. He replaces the needle at the original point and let's it go. After a few seconds of crackling silence, the song fills the room again. Sam slaps the back of his hand gently against Bucky's chest and steps back with a mischievous grin on his face.
"Wanna dance, old man?"
Bucky gently freezes in shock but Sam catches it because he expected it, really. Its why he asked in the first place. He wants to shake up that tightly wound exposure that Bucky has at all times. And he was bored. Bucky was not a talkative person and their current predicament left them without many sources for entertainment. It'd been hours since they arrived, yet Sam was feeling the time pass under his skin like an itch. He was exhausted and body weary, but it was better to stay awake so he could orient to the new time zone. As a result, he couldn't help but pester the other man.
"No."
Sam just kept looking at him. His gaze was sleepy, but a twinkle of the earlier mischief still shined through. Similarly, his skin reflected the warmth of the sun as it clung to the early evening and seeped through the windows. It was lucky that they got to be above ground this time.
The staring lasted a long moment. Like it always did. Then Sam shrugged.
"I know dancing may not be a particular talent of yours-" but before he could finish, Bucky was in his space and the rest of Sam's sentenced disappeared with some of his bravado. Bucky was fast and his sudden closeness wasn't expected given the man's reservations a second ago. The sudden adrenaline that had sparked through Sam's started to fade too. He wasn't scared of his companion, but the man's behavior was largely still a mystery to Sam which meant that sometimes he was caught off-guard.
Bucky raised his right hand out, brow arched expectantly, and Sam took it with caution. The man's other hand rose to hover a few inches above Sam's hip, and it took a few moments before he realized Bucky was waiting for permission. His cheeks warmed and he hoped his complexion made it less obvious. He gently guided the metal hand until Bucky settled it on the jut of his hip, the surface cool and smooth under his soft hold.
"Aren't you a gentleman? Thats that old-school chivalry," Sam teased. Bucky pulled their bodies closer and smirked wryly.
"I aim to please." A new song had started and Bucky briefly tore his attention from the heat he felt spreading along his front. He hadn't danced in a long time. Not like this.
The current song featured a masculine husk crooning affections for the listener. It was accompanied by the distinct, steady tempo of a piano. Bucky felt his body catch the music, the way he'd been taught, quickly adjusting to an appropriate rhythm. Sam followed without much of a pause, finally starting to settle into the feelings of sharing this foreign intimacy with the familiar stranger who was holding him so damn gently. Even so, Bucky gripped him firmly like he'd catch Sam if he even thought about falling.
It was...nice. Nicer than Sam (or either of them, really) had expected. He hadn't been held in who knows how long. He was too busy and had mostly outgrown flings, but it wouldn't be fair to a potential partner if he randomly left on long missions that required little to no contact with those who didn't have the clearance. But that was kind of an excuse. Since everything that had happened, Sam hasn't much felt like having others in his space. He was a social person and owned that, sure. But it was hard to open up authentically as much as he teased Bucky about his tendency to isolate himself. He tries to take the advice he regularly gives to the veterans he takes under his wing. Its enough to sustain his close relationships, including whatever he has going on with One Armed Wonder, but he has little energy to offer anyone else. He has to remind himself that thats okay.
Without thinking, Sam realized he had sunk his head into the crook of Bucky's shoulder. He had started to drift, still following the gentle sways of his partner's body like a boat welcoming the gentle rocking of small waves after a storm. Bucky hadn't said anything, luckily, so Sam remains in his position and enjoys the comforting sounds of soul that has wrapped around them.
He had finally put Bucky onto some real good conditioner after growing sick of the greasy tresses the man sported as the Winter Soldier. No judgement. Its hard to have a solid hair care routine as an international assassin for magic super Nazis. But now, it smelled like honeyed coconuts instead of the scentless, dollar brands he used to buy at random. Even though Bucky's hair was shorter, Sam still caught wiffs of it near his neck. It was more noticeable this close given the man's lack of cologne.
Bucky had noticed earlier when Sam's head dipped into his shoulder. Shortly after, he though he had heard soft snores, but the man's body had otherwise remained upright and solid like usual. He had continued to follow the pattern they'd set, so Bucky had just shifted his hand to his partner's lower back to provide support and kept their pace steady. Otherwise, he lost himself in the heat of Sam's hand and the confusing stillness that had settled in his chest. He felt...anchored. But that was Sam. He was strong and steady, and reliable, but just as capable of sinking as anyone else without the support he inarguable deserved. The support Bucky tried to provide.
Steve was gone now. He'd left the both of them to figure out the aftermath of everything that had happened. Bucky wondered if it hurt Sam like it hurt for him. He didn't blame his Steve; couldn't begrudge him that act of selfishness after all they'd been through. Without Rogers' strong presence between them, they had been left to scramble in the gap and reshape it for two. Sam had his family and Bucky had his therapist, but nobody could understand the them as much as the other, as different as they are. So here they are, slow dancing in a safehouse Rhodes had been generous enough to lend them on short notice. He was amicable towards Bucky, but the generosity was really for Sam. Bucky's neck itched, likely with dried sweat, and he sighed internally. He needed a shower.
The man worked his hand against Sam's lower back instinctually and the other man responds with a questioning hum tinged with sleepiness. Bucky doesnt have an answer so they continue in silence. The song had changed. It was a woman again. She was singing the Blues, if Bucky guessed correctly. He's been picking up more of the music Sam liked. It could be relaxing but full-bodied one moment or rich and thrilling the next.
So far, he has only worked his way up the mid-80s. Sam jokesthat his sensitive hearing isnt prepared for the young and hip tastes that dominate the charts, but he'll still sneak recent artists into his recommendations so Bucky isnt completely "out of the loop." Like always, Bucky would just roll his eyes, but now and again he closes them and try to imagine what Sam felt when listened to the music. Wonders at the connections the man shares with the melodies, and the histories curved into the lyrics. Some things, he couldn't ever understand, even if he tries. So, other times, he just listens.
Now, he's curled over his partner's slightly shorter stature, nose brushing the other man's temple. Sam was not a small man. He was built like a brick house. His upper body was strong, but his lower half was thick with muscle and padded by soft curves of flesh. Probably because he only does legs. Meanwhile, Bucky's own body is near the opposite: wide, sturdy chest that tapers to a firm waist and steady, straight legs. They contrast nicely, Bucky thinks. Filling up the spaces the other doesn't. For two people of their size, they still manag to fit snugly with little space between their bodies. Any closer, and Bucky isn't sure how he'd handle the proximity. He feels lulled into the calmness of the evening that had unexpectedly crept up on them in the quiet of everything around them, save for the music.
The two danced a bit longer, but eventually Sam's body grew too weary after the lack of sleep. With hesitancy, they quietly parted after the final notes of the song slipped from the record player. Bucky turns stopped the music while Sam flops into the nearby couch. His growing exhaustion does not stop him from throwing a smirk Bucky's way which the man met with his regular deadpan stare.
"Not bad. Not a single hip replacement necessary. I'd say thats a success for two old men." Sam quipped. Bucky stayed silent.
"You're not old," he finally said. He hadn't moved from his spot by the record player.
"Hmmm. Well, compared to you, 42 isn't that old." Sam lets his eyes close again but Bucky clears his throat, causing one of them to open in question.
"There's a bedroom upstairs," he explains carefully. They've been on the move for some time now with little time for real rest. If Sam was going to finally sleep then it should be in a real bed, at least.
Sam lets out out a quick laugh, "if you think you can butter me up with a dance-"
Bucky cuts off his teasing with a quick glare. If there was ever a moment being the Winter Soldier has served him, it was now. Otherwise, the heat he could feel trying to redden his ears would send Sam into a fit of hysterics.
"I did a perimeter check when we arrived. There's three bedrooms upstairs. All of them have en-suites bathrooms so take your choice," Bucky grumbles out, avoiding eye contact with his counterpart. The earlier stillness he had felt was slowly disappearing now that they were interacting again. His nerves were more taxed than before. He'll analyze that later. Maybe with his therapist, but she was kind of petty, so maybe not.
Sam's teasing smirk has settled into something a little more kind as he rises frim his seat and crosses the room to where Bucky stands. He roughly claps the other man's arm a couple of times before settling the familiar weight of his hand at the ball of Bucky's shoulder.
"I'm just messing with you, man. Thanks though. That couch would do my back in after being thrown by that explosion. Luckily, you were there to provide some cushioning," he says with that toothy smile. Before Bucky can respond, Sam bids him goodnight and slowly makes his way upstairs. Bucky watches him go, dry-mouthed and slightly confused. Once Sam has completely disappeared from view, Bucky takes in his surroundings and feels the emptiness of the room without Wilson's presence.
He'll do one more perimeter check then turn in for the night. Even he can feel the pullings of sleep. Maybe tonight, he'll dream about dancing.
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kareofbears · 3 years
Text
plainly in truth, chapter 3/5
"Without you around, it's sorta like stuff is just kinda...bleh."
Or: hiding, confiding, and misguiding.
read on ao3 or below the cut :)
Ryuji grips the letter like it was silver and he was a werewolf in the full moon.
He picks it up, skims over the first line before putting it down beside him, feeling worse every time he does it, only able to read the fine-printed lettering from the flickering lamp post above him. The constant change in light would normally bug him, but he doesn’t really care about it now; it’s not like the words would change in his hand, and he’s long since needed to actually read it to know what it reads.
His feet dangle over the canal, enjoying the way a rush of adrenaline would go through him when he looks down into the deep waters. It’s late enough in the night that even with the city lights around him, he can’t gauge how deep it goes.
Soseikawa Park was only a five minute walk from Odori Park, but with the narrow river and steeped hills, Ryuji found it secluded enough to let himself sit. Breathe. Not exist, even for just a few minutes. It’s like having his own bedroom, except it smells faintly like a sewer and there’s an intersection about ten meters above where he sat underneath the overpass. If he can ignore the never-ending rumble of cars and trucks driving above him, it can almost be considered peaceful.
He lets himself fall back, the grass tickling the back of his neck and his spine screaming in relief. They’re heading out again in two days, which means more days of being in an inescapable RV surrounded by his best friends who are keeping an eye on him because they’re good people who don’t know how to mind their own fucking business.
Idly, he lets his hands pull and brings it to his face—blades of grass. He lets it get taken by the wind. After brief consideration, he shoves the letter back into his pocket before he can do the same thing to it.
He is so tired.
Blindly, he hits the vague area of where his pocket is and fishes out his phone, hitting the first speed dial before he can talk himself out of it. As two rings go by, he stupidly hopes that she doesn’t pick up, as if she hasn’t ever missed a phone call from him even when she’s at work.
The third ring gets cut off halfway through. “Ryu!”
Despite himself, he grins. “Hey, ma. Checking in for the weekly call.”
“I was just thinking about you,” she says, and he can hear the laundry machine run in the background. “I was wondering if you had eaten today.”
“Ma, you ain’t gotta worry about that kinda thing anymore. I’m a big boy now.”
“You’re breaking my heart!” He can almost see her, phone tucked in the crook of her neck, work-worn hands folding her laundry as fast as she can so as to not hold up the next person in line. “It doesn’t matter how big you are, you’re my boy. How can I not think about whether my boy is eating or not?”
“All I’ve done on this trip is eat, ma.”
“Oh, and Akira! How’s that handsome boy doing? Still taking the world by storm?”
That pulls a genuine laugh from him—he never needs to hold back when it comes to talking about Akira, at least. “You know it. He’s the only guy in the world who can stand toe-to-toe with me in chowing down. I swear, he’s slipping some of it under the table ‘cause he’s so damn fast. Forty seconds! Forty seconds to inhale an extra large beef bowl! Blows my mind, seriously.”
“Could never do anything in halves, can he?” she chuckles, before the quality of her voice shifts. “And are you enjoying yourself?”
He hesitates. “Yeah, of course. It’s a roadtrip across Japan, how can I not?”
“Good.” There’s some crackling over the receiver, and he guesses she’s probably adjusting the basket full of clothes on her hip. “That’s all I want to hear. As long as you’re happy, Ryu, I’m a happy old woman.”
Ryuji opens his mouth, ready to console her.
I’m always happy!
You worry too much, ma.
There’s nothing to worry about.
“Sorry, but,” he swallows thickly. “I think they’re calling for me? So—”
“Alright,” she says, and he might be imagining the disappointed tinge to it. “Call back when you can, okay sweetheart? I miss you.”
“I miss you too,” he clears his throat. “I love you, ma.”
“I love you too, Ryu.”
He hangs up, letting the phone slip out of his fingers. It lands hard on the flat grass
For a long moment, he just lays there, listening to the gentle lapping waves and cars honking with impatience of people who have somewhere to be. He tries to meditate for half a minute, with all the information he had learned from a couple of YouTube videos, and gives up, because of course he does. Squeezing his eyes shut, he can’t do anything about the creeping dread that’s in his stomach getting stronger, squeezing and squeezing until he feels sick. It’s like his insecurities are having this huge fight against each other, feeding off of one another until it gets too big for him to handle and all he can do is breathe and try to do something about it.
And he’s fucking sick of it—breathing. He’s sick of the stupid breathing techniques, sick of counting down from ten and waiting for his own heart to chill out because his brain won’t stop reminding him of everything he did wrong, of shit he’s still doing wrong because at least this way, nobody knows what he did was wrong. It’s just him that can point and laugh at himself, and that’s way better than having the world do it for him.
He doesn’t cry, because he’s not a crier. He’s the type of guy to throw a fist through drywood before shedding a tear, and he hates that about himself. Rather than do something that will actually help, Ryuji lays there, perfectly still. Listening. Waiting for a meteor to fall on him, or for the overpass to crash its entire weight on top of him.
Instead, he hears footsteps.
His heart rate slows by a fraction, and opens his eyes to meet gray ones. “Hey.”
“Hi,” Akira says, a smile in his voice. “How did you know it was me?”
Ryuji almost feels offended. He would know Akira by sound alone, the way his heels would click in the Metaverse. The way the balls of his feet would strike the earth, hardly muffled by grass or cheap sneakers or anything else as trivial. Ryuji would know he was there; no matter how blind he was with hatred for himself, his love for Akira would always guide him back to where he needs to be.
“Lucky guess.”
“One hell of a guess.” He plops down onto the grass and Ryuji lifts his head, allowing Akira to wiggle until he could use his lap as a pillow. “Your turn,” Akira says.
“My turn to what?”
“To ask me how I knew where you were.”
“Oh.” He lets his eyes slide shut again. “I kinda just assumed you could do that.”
“You assume too much of me sometimes.”
“I assume the right amount.” Ryuji refuses to shiver when he feels long fingers start to card through his hair. “You’re giving me goosebumps,” he sighs.
“That’s a good thing, I think.” The fingers pull away and he’s about to complain when he feels something gets thrown over his torso. “Here. You always end up forgetting to wear an extra layer when you go out like this.”
Ryuji rearranges Akira’s jacket over himself. “Sap.”
“You know it.” He resumes combing through his hair, and Ryuji lets himself relax, just a little. It’s strange—it’s hard as hell being around other people nowadays, and even though Akira can make him feel that sometimes, mostly it helps the eternal twisting of his stomach to settle.
“You’re good at that,” Ryuji mutters.
“Thank you. I’ve had plenty of practice with Morgana.” And just to make it worse, he uses a little bit of nail on his nape, sending electricity running down all the way to his fingertips.
His mouth twists unhappily. “Don’t do shit like that while talking about the cat, for the love of god.”
Akira does it again, like the little shit he is. “You still have that weird thing with your neck?”
“Quit it!” Ryuji slaps his thigh and he can’t muster much anger when he can feel Akira’s shoulders shake from silent laughter. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.”
“You’re right.” Gently, softly, like the world’s lightest feather, he feels lips brush his temple. “I’m funnier.”
His eyes open, and his entire vision is obscured by curly black hair and tender eyes. “You’re right,” he breathes. “You’re funnier.”
Akira bends down again, and Ryuji catches his lips, overflowing with something soft but unafraid, and it’s so good that Ryuji reaches for his cheek just to make it last a little bit longer.
When they break off, Akira kisses his temple again, this time on the left side. “Do you know what day it is?”
“Uh,” he scratches his head, brain a little fuzzy. “Tuesday?”
“It’s Wednesday, and I meant the date. It’s August tenth.”
“Okay?”
Akira thumbs at his collarbone. “I know this might be a little lame that I know it by heart, but I left Tokyo on March 19th. That would mean it’s been—”
“One hundred forty-four days since you moved away,” he finishes. “I know.”
Akira blinks, and then laughs, and Ryuji knows it’s an especially good one because sound actually comes out this time. “Yes,” he says, elated. “Exactly what I was thinking.”
“I told you dude, we’re really on that telepathy shit.”
“We really are.” A pause. “I miss you.”
He’s about to joke—I’m right here, you big dummy—but find that he just can’t. “I miss you too.”
They can’t say what they mean: I will miss you. Summer vacation doesn’t last forever, and two months will always be a hell of a lot shorter than the rest of the ten months that they’ll be apart. Somehow, he dreads seeing Akira gone, and he’ll dread seeing Akira back in Tokyo because it would mean that he’d actually have to see what Ryuji’s really like. Actively pushing away his best friend just so he doesn’t have to see his failures; doesn’t that just make him the worst piece of shit in the world?
There’s a gap, though. A little loophole. A crack in the timeline. A place where maybe he’s allowed to be a hollowed out version of happy; the now.
“Tomorrow’s our last day in Sapporo?”
“Yeah?” Akira replies, surprised at the change in tone.
“Which means Jail stuff is done, right? All your grocery shopping and Sophia Prime’s been ordered and packed up?”
“Yes,” he says, a lilt in his voice. “It’s all done.”
Ryuji sits up and faces him, reaching for his wrists, relishing in the heartbeat thumping against his palms. “Let’s do something. I don’t care what, but let’s do something. Eat at a diner, go to a museum, rob a bank, whatever.” He runs his thumb along the veins there, long since those bumps have been ingrained in his brain. “Let’s do something, just you and me.”
“Are you asking me out on a date, Sakamoto?” He has a cocky look in his eye, and Ryuji’s half-tempted to kiss him again just to wipe it clean off his face. “You know I’d follow you anywhere.”
He knows. That’s the scary part. Would Akira still follow someone he doesn’t know as well as he thinks he does? “I’ll get us lost,” he jokes.
Akira doesn’t laugh. “I’d rather be lost with you than learn to lose you.”
It’s been ages since he’s been flustered at anything Akira does, but he feels a rush of heat crawl up his neck. “I’ll—” Ryuji shakes his head, willing his embarrassment to go away. “Shit, uh—”
“I’ll pick where to go,” he interrupts, a little too smug for his liking. “I’d say I’ll pick you up at your place, but…”
“Yeah, yeah, you’re a comedian,” Ryuji rolls his eyes. “I’ll be ready whenever.”
“Fantastic.” Akira checks his phone, wincing. “It’s late.”
He grips his wrist tightly. “I know.”
Thankfully, he’s never needed to explain much to Akira. “Okay,” he says softly. “Ten more minutes?”
“Yeah.” He lets his eyes slide shut once more, letting out a breath. The world will keep spinning. His stomach will keep twisting. Time will keep marching on, but at least he has this. “Ten minutes sounds good.”
The first words that Futaba says as she enters the RV was: “Oh, hell.”
“Hello Futaba-chan, Yusuke-kun,” Haru greets cheerfully from the booth. “How was your shopping trip?”
“...Fine,” she replies, stepping aside to let him in, lugging a four-foot tall canvas in his arms that accidentally hits the ceiling. “Got a new Featherman action figure.”
“I got a canvas,” Yusuke answers from behind the wall of white. “Though I assume you can see that.”
“I can.” Her smile doesn’t falter, and it’s making the hair on Futaba’s nape rise like a nervous animal. “Quick question, since you both are here…”
Haru pulls a tote bag from underneath the table, and it’s so heavy that when she throws it on the table, her teacup nearly topples over. “Would you like to take a guess of what’s in this bag?”
A billion jokes pop into Futaba’s head, but both of them stay silent, terrified and confused. They both knew this was coming, but they didn’t expect her to be so forward about it.
“I suppose that’s a pretty strange question, I’m sorry. Let me try again.” She reaches in and pulls out thick, heavy textbooks, all brightly coloured and consist of beaming, diverse students on the front cover. “Care to tell me why you were both looking at cram books while we’re on our fun roadtrip?”
Yusuke pushes Futaba aside, eyes on the books and wide with shock. “You bought them?!” he exclaims.
“Wait—” Futaba hops repeatedly, trying to catch a glimpse from over his shoulder. “You bought all of them?”
“Of course.”
“But why?”
She thinks about it for a moment. “Hmm, think about it this way. If Akira’s in charge of the group as a whole, and Makoto’s in charge of the more analytical aspect of things, think of me as a somewhat stern yet loving parent who doesn’t quite know how to mind their own business.”
“I thought that was Ann’s job,” Futaba mutters, heart hammering in her chest.
“Now,” Haru leans forward, and as if to prove her role, speaks in a gentle tone. “I’m not mad at you. That would be ridiculous. But I saw you two looking at these books, and I know how expensive they can be, so I’ll give them to you.”
She blinks. “You would?”
“Absolutely!” Haru smiles wide. “On the condition that you tell me why you need them.”
Futaba and Yusuke exchange a glance, before Futaba makes a T with her hands. “Timeout!” she yells, dragging Yusuke by the collar out of the RV.
“What do we do?” he whispers once the door is shut. “It’s not as if we can tell her.”
“I don’t know, maybe we should?” she pushes up her glasses. “Damn, the things money can buy you. Our vow of silence is getting thrown out the window for two handfuls of yen.”
He looks her dead in the eyes. “I would tell the world my deepest secrets if it meant having lifetime access to a grocery store.”
“Don’t say that, you sellout!”
“I’m not selling out. My art already reveals the deepest portion of my soul, it’s not my fault that the common observers cannot pick up what I’m putting down.” He squints against the setting sun. “She’s waiting. What do we do?”
“Okay, okay, okay, just let me—” her mind whirrs rapidly, and for a second she really feels like Sophia. “Give me a second.”
“I have a suggestion,” he points at her. “If we’re not averse to lying, let’s tell them that you need them for school. You’re struggling with academics, you need a bit of outside help, so we took a look at the textbooks.”
“Good idea! Wait.” She frowns. “They’ll never buy it. Let’s say that you need them.”
“I’m at the top of my class!”
“But they don’t know that!” She balls her fists together, determined. “Okay, let’s do this.”
“I didn’t say yes to this.”
Futaba kicks the door open, making Haru pause wiping her spilt drink mid-stroke. “Inari’s struggling with his classes!”
“I—“ Yusuke stammers. “Yes,” he confirms. “I’m struggling with my classes. They’re mighty indeed, and even I find them difficult. I am...struggling.”
Haru looks at them doubtfully. “Yusuke is?”
“I am,” he answers as Futaba says, “He is.”
“Yusuke,” she repeats, gesturing to the neatly-stacked pile of textbooks on the table. “Is struggling with precalculus?”
They stare at her. “Yes,” Yusuke says, slowly. “I am struggling with previous calculus.”
“Out of curiosity, Yusuke,” Haru scratches her cheek. “Do you know what a parabola is?”
“Of course I do,” he replies with the wisdom of a thousand monks. “It’s a self-contradictory statement.”
“That’s a paradox,” Makoto corrects from the steering wheel.
“What the heck?” Futaba jumps a foot in the air. “Why are you here? Why were you hiding?”
“I like to sit here a few hours before we start another road trip,” she says, before glaring at them. “You two. Does this have to do with Ryuji?”
“T-timeout!”
Futaba makes a beeline to the door again, but Haru’s faster. She slips past them, standing in their way, perfect smile still in place. Sometimes Futaba forgets how strong she is in negotiations; her and Yusuke were probably tutorial levels compared to the upper management of Okumura Foods. “Answer her question, please.”
Yusuke sighs, tired. “You know what you’re asking for, don’t you? If we tell you what’s happening here, it would be breaking the trust of one of our teammates.”
“Yusuke!” Futaba hisses. “Are you really thinking about telling them? It’s not even our secret to tell.”
“No, it isn’t.” He makes eye contact with Makoto. “But she made a point. What would make us better friends: if we kept a secret to the grave while letting him suffer, or tell someone who can help even if it means being some sort of tattletale?”
“But…” she trails off, resolve crumbling. “Dude. It’s going to suck so much.”
“I know.” He pats her head, before moving to Ryuji’s backpack once more. “Don’t worry, I’m willing to take his anger if need be.” Yusuke gestures to the booth. “Everyone, take a seat. It’s about time this finally gets cleared up.”
Smoothing out the envelope in his hand, even more crumpled than when they had it last, he clears his throat, takes one last glance at Futaba to make sure. At her tentative nod, he begins to read its contents in a loud, clear voice.
When he finishes, they sit there, staring at the thick paper in silence.
“Oh my god,” Makoto breathes. “I knew it was bad, but—”
Haru shakes her head. “Not this bad. And he talked about it so much, but we didn’t even…” she glances down at the textbooks, idly rubbing its spine. “I didn’t think much of it.”
“None of us did,” Yusuke says. “But does that make it any better?”
They fall in silence again, but Futaba can hear the answer loud and clear. Hell no.
The door opens forcefully, pulling them out of their stupor.
“What’s up, my beloved friends!” Ann calls, shopping bags in tow. “God, I’m gonna miss Sapporo. Things here are so cheap compared to Tokyo, sheesh!” She sets them down, laughing when nobody says anything. “Jeez, what’s going on? Did I miss something?”
“Ann-chan,” Haru says carefully, all sense of cheer, for intimidation or otherwise, gone. “Take a seat. There’s something you should know.”
The Ferris wheel looms over them, blocking out most of the sunset behind it. “Nice,” Ryuji grins appreciatively. “I should’ve seen this one coming.”
“You should’ve,” Akira agrees, tugging him into the open carriage. He goes in willingly. “It was staring at you the whole time we’re in Sapporo. And besides, every romantic movie has a Ferris wheel scene, doesn’t it?”
“Oh yeah? Name one.”
“Death note.”
Ryuji makes a face, and Akira laughs. “Yeah, I know. Bad example.”
It’s a tight squeeze but they sit next to each other, ignoring the bench in front of them. The seats are hot, and even though it’s nearly evening, the heat barely eases up on them. Still, he finds himself pressing himself against Akira. He runs cold, much colder than Ryuji; narrow wrists are ice, prominent collarbones frost.
The two of them lean over the window, pointing out random scenery as if it were the first time they were seeing them. Restaurants, statues. Weird looking cars and flower beds. Decorated high rises and insects that fly by. It’s like they were tourists, or a retired couple who just want to travel the world. He’s never wanted to be old before, but Akira always has a way of making him change his mind.
Like clockwork—Ryuji makes a joke. Akira laughs. His heart feels lighter.
When he finds himself leaning against him, feet up on the bench, Akira wraps his arms around his shoulders unhesitatingly. Ryuji wonders if he can hear the way his heart thuds inside his bones. He wonders if he knows it's for him. The Ferris wheel stops, right at the very top, gently swaying like it were a giant cradle. They’re not very high up, but it’s far enough that he feels like he’s left the entire world behind.
Ryuji presses his lips against those wrists, relishing in the way he can feel the heartbeat increase. “You nervous?”
He can feel his head shake behind him. “I’m happy, I think,” Akira says in a hushed voice, like it was a secret, like it was a sin.
A breeze flows through, and Ryuji closes his eyes when lips press against just below his ear.
Would it be worth it to have a Palace? A Jail? Would it be worth it to lose himself, just to be in this moment for the rest of time?
Carefully, he flips himself sideways, just so he can press more of himself against Akira. The carriage rocks gently, and the metal bench underneath them is sharp and uncomfortable. Arms tighten around him. Chest to back, knee to knee, they couldn’t be closer, but Ryuji leans back, wanting nothing more than to bottle the rhythm of his breathing and the smell of his soap.
I’m happy, too, I think, he wants to say. If we stayed like this for the rest of our lives, until our skin is permanently tattooed into the hot steel and our bones are the only thing they take out of this bench because the rest of us had already rotted, then I’d be pretty damn happy.
Craning his neck backwards, Akira is already staring.
Then he’s kissing him—once, twice, again and again, and Ryuji realizes that something’s different. This wasn’t the kind of kiss he was used to. There was a desperate air to it, an urgent edge from both of them that neither was ready for. Stealing each other’s breath and giving it back; the cycle continues, the clock keeps ticking.
Ryuji pulls himself up, not breaking the kiss, cupping his cheek and soaking him in like a flower to the sun; an endless yearning, like he’d shrivel up and suffocate if it vanished. The sun framed Akira, and for a split second, he feels like he understands what Yusuke sees on a canvas.
When they part, foreheads leaning against each other, Ryuji lifts a trembling hand to wipe the tear that rolled down Akira’s cheek.
“What’s up?” he asks softly. “Is something wrong?”
“I feel like you’re a miracle, Ryuji.”
How do you respond to that? When the person who said it feels like they’re the one who’s magic, who’s too good to be true?
“Fuck miracles,” he says, pulling Akira in again.
The circuit felt like it ended too soon, but it’s night when they finally stepped off, holding hands and faces flushed. He hopes the ride operator doesn’t hate them, but he’s in too good of a mood to really complain.
Ryuji stops in his tracks when he sees who’s in front of them.
“Ann?” Akira questions, taken aback. Eyes dark and brows pulled close together, clutching her purse like a weapon of war—she looks like she’d just seen someone set an orphanage on fire.
Her voice is shockingly deep, gaze fixed on Ryuji. “I’m borrowing him for a second.”
Before either of them can say anything, Ann takes him by the bicep, and he can only glance at Akira before he’s dragged back into the Ferris wheel.
“Did you even pay—?”
“Don’t start,” she hisses, pushing him on the bench, hard. “Don’t you dare start, you damn liar.”
His blood runs cold. “What?”
No. That’s impossible.
“Don’t play dumb with me.” She shoves her hand in her bag and throws something rubber at him. “Do you know how long it took me to find a good one here? I spent my entire day in the shopping district—not looking for clothes, or shoes, or whatever the hell I thought would be fun. No, I spent our last day in Sapporo looking for that.”
Ryuji looks down at the hot compress in his hands, a lump in his throat.
“Because you weren’t doing anything to your knee,” she continues, jaw tight. “Despite me trying my best to help you get better. I thought that you must’ve been really fan-freaking-tastic at hiding the pain that you told me about. That I trusted was the truth because you’re one of my best friends and I trust you. I trust you with my life, my secrets—” Ann grits her teeth. “What the hell?”
“How did you find out?” he asks hoarsely.
She knows. If she knows, they could know. If they could know—
“Damn you, it doesn’t matter how I found out!” she throws her hands in the air, voice so hurt that it twists his insides impossibly tighter. “You think I would care? You think that this is important enough to lie to me about? Dammit, I don’t care that you—”
“Don’t say it,” he begs. “Please.”
“I don’t give a single shit that you failed second-year, Sakamoto!”
Her words ring against the steel walls, deafening.
Bile crawls up his esophagus, and he readies himself for another attack. But for some strange reason, his vision doesn’t blur. Instead, anger kicks in like it always does.
“You don’t care?” he asks, incredulous. “This doesn’t even have anything to do with you!”
“It does when you lie to me about it!” she yells back. “Do you not care about me? About your friends who would go to hell and back for you?”
“How dare you—!”
“You lied to me, you hid it from everyone else, you ignored our advice because it doesn’t mean shit to you.” She points a finger at him. “And look where that got you.”
“Shut up.”
“We all noticed, you know! Each and every one of us noticed that something was up, even the literal robot—”
“Shut the hell up, Ann.”
“And for what? All you accomplished was hurt our feelings, hold in yours, and keep it from the love of your life—”
Ryuji stands up, rocking the carriage and nearly toppling Ann off her feet.
“It’s because I fucking hate myself!”
She grips the barred window, eyes wide. They stare each other down for a few long moments, before the ride comes to an abrupt end. The door swings open, allowing a cheery greeting from the oblivious employee.
And then Ann sighs, shoulders deflating. “Come on,” she jerks her head to the door, before stepping out herself. “Let’s go.”
“What?” he asks, puzzled. “Where?”
“If we’re going to delve into the psyche of Sakamoto Ryuji, we might as well do it with some food in front of us.”
The cafe Ann takes him to is bright, filled with pastries and crowded with people—stools are pastel blue, baristas are wearing cute bowties, and each cup of coffee comes with an alarming amount of whipped cream on top. Sojiro would have a heart attack if he walked three kilometers of this place, but Ryuji’s glad that the resemblance is far and away than that of Leblanc.
The booth is pressed into the corner of it all; up against the window and far enough from the main bustle that they’d have to really put their all into it if they wanted to take their order. On one side sat Futaba, nervously tracing shapes on the window while Haru sits beside her. The opposite end has Yusuke and Makoto.
They all look up when they hear the bell chime, and Ryuji almost laughs. “It’s been a long ass time since I’ve seen you guys look so serious,” he remarks, sliding next to Makoto while Ann sits next to Haru. “Where’s the food at? Come on guys, food’s good for you.”
He raises a hand. “Excuse me! We’re ready!”
“Ryuji,” Futaba’s voice is brittle. “I—”
“Hold on shorty,” he reaches to pat her head, voice coming out soft. “We’ll get to that. I promise.”
A waiter comes, takes their drink order, and leaves. When he does, Yusuke places a heavy hand on the table. “I was the one who told everyone.”
“That’s not true!” Futaba cries out, and everyone jerks back in shock. “That’s bull! I’m the one who told him to go through your stuff ‘cause he was worried about you, but I’m the one who actually—”
“No, I’m the one at fault here,” Haru casts her gaze downwards. “It was really none of my business, but I forced these two to tell everyone here. I’m so sorry—”
Ryuji sighs. “Guys, it’s fine.” He’s met with an incredulous look. “Okay, it isn’t, but none of this is your fault, you know? I’m not mad.” His gaze shifts to Ann. “But you’re allowed to be mad at me. I know I shouldn’t have hidden it.”
She gives him a weighted look. “Then why did you do it?”
“Ann,” Makoto warns.
“No, I’m not budging on this.” She leans forward. “He lied to me. Lying doesn’t get you anywhere good. That was really stupid of you.”
“Ann!” Futaba cuts in, horrified.
“You’ve seen what happened with Shiho.” Ryuji flinches back like he’s been hit. He knows. Ann knows he knows. But she keeps going anyway. “She lied to me about what was happening, and I lied to her back. It kept going and going, and—” she snaps her fingers. “She’s gone from my life. For how long? I don’t know, maybe until we graduate. Maybe until her rehab ends. Maybe longer. Who knows? All I know is if we had just—talked, or—” Ann shakes her head, frustrated. “From the start. Tell us what happened. And afterwards, let us help you, or I swear to god I’m going to cry, and I know you can’t stand it when people cry.”
The silence is deafening, even with the clamor of people and voices around them.
Ryuji lets out a breath. “Yeah, alright.”
She raises an eyebrow. “You will?”
“I will,” he repeats, idly checking his pulse. Heart rate is a little quick, but in no danger of having another breakdown. “I’ll tell you everything.”
The waiter chooses that time to drop off their drinks; all cold except Haru, nursing a hot cup of tea. They definitely didn’t buy enough to justify the god-knows-how-long they’re going to spend here, but they’re just gonna have to suck it up.
“Alright,” he starts when they’re alone again. “We going from the start?”
“The very beginning,” Ann confirms.
With one last glance at his friends, he sighs, sits up straight, and flashes them the biggest grin he can muster:
“Hi,” he greets. “I’m Sakamoto Ryuji, and I failed my second-year of high school.”
No one’s expression shifts, not even an inch. He can’t help but be a little impressed. “You guys know that I’ve never been the greatest with books. Shit, screw greatest—I’ve ranked bottom five ever since I started middle school. Didn’t help that my leg got fucked to high heaven and everyone started hating me. Nearly dropped out a couple times. Had no one, really. Worst time in my life, hands down.
“So imagine this dumb little kid, middle of April, running into this guy.” Without meaning to, the grin shifts into something more genuine. “Good-looking dude, super smart, real charmer but you wouldn’t be able to tell just by lookin’ at him. And that guy saved my life. Ten, twenty, thirty times over. He was so great that the dumb kid obviously fell in love with him. But what’s even crazier is that the guy fell in love with the dumb little kid, too.
“Crazy, right? Sounds made up, but I promise it’s true.” He catches Futaba’s expression shift to exasperation. “I know, I can’t believe it either.”
“That’s not what I meant, you sap,” she says.
“Yeah, but that dumb little kid,” he explains. “Couldn’t believe it. Literally couldn’t believe it. Thinks that he struck the lottery, struck by damn lightning. I mean—” Ryuji laughs a little. “How can someone so amazing and cool be in love with such a moron? What made it worse…”
He gestures at all of them. “Was that the guy had so many people in his life who was also amazing. His social circle was made up of, and correct me if I’m wrong: a successful journalist, a politician, some dude from the mob, a random child who breaks gaming records on the daily, and I’m not even counting people from this goddamn table. So dumb little kid knows, he fucking knows that somehow, someway, he tricked the cool guy into falling in love with him. The kid sucked, no, sucks,” he corrects. “At everything. Can’t do anything worthwhile.”
“Ryuji…” Haru whispers.
“Almost done, I know it’s running on kinda long,” he promises. “So the dumb little kid became kinda obsessed with the group’s ‘activities’, and it’s obvious why he would, right? If he knows he’s not good enough for the guy he’s in love with, then he can at least try to be. But since he already sucked at school to begin with, dummy over here completely bailed on school and ended up flunking so bad that he failed an entire year.”
An entire year. An entire year.
It’s becoming harder and harder to breathe, but he’d rather get hit by a truck than lose it in front of so many people. Gritting his teeth, he does what he knows is bad, what every google search and YouTube video says you should not do—he pushes his feelings, far and hard away from himself, so far that it’s like it doesn’t even exist.
It works surprisingly well.
“And, uh—” Ryuji clears his throat. “He hid it. Because you know the one, single thing that’s worse than realizing you’re not good enough for the other person?”
No one answers. “Waiting for the day that they realize that you’re not good enough for them.”
“And that’s pretty much the bulk of it.” Reaching for his mug, he takes a sip of his lukewarm lemonade. Damn, he really did talk for a while. “I didn’t want to tell the rest of you because one, it’s really fucking embarrassing that I failed, and two—”
“Akira can’t know,” they all say in unison.
“Exactly, you guys get the point by now.” He drums his fingers against the table, trying to ignore the blatant gloom cast on all of their faces. “Question time starts now, if anyone wants to ask anything.”
Makoto opens her mouth, but he beats her to it. “If anyone even thinks about feeling pity, or be all ‘no, you’re smart actually!’, I am walking out of this cafe and I am not looking back.”
“What about summer school?” Makoto asks immediately. “If you didn’t want us to know, then you could’ve taken that without even telling us.”
“Summer school was never an option.”
“And why not?” she slaps her hand against the table. “It would’ve solved this entire situation!”
“Because Akira was coming home for the summer,” he says simply. “And I wanted to enjoy my time with him without this hanging over my head.”
Her jaw drops open. “But...that’s…”
“Stupid?” he offers. “Idiotic? Really dumb? Potentially throwing away my entire future? Yeah, I gotcha. Another part of it was that the thought of staying at Shujin for another minute makes me want to jump into traffic, if that helps make me look a little better in your mind, miss prez.”
Makoto’s expression of confusion freezes, taken aback by the harshness of his words. Ryuji cringes at himself. “Sorry.”
“No,” she says finally. “The fault is mine. I have no right to judge your actions, or to pretend I know what kind of stress is burdening you.” Hesitating, she asks, “May I request another question?”
“Shoot.”
“What were you going to do when we eventually go back to Tokyo?”
As expected of someone who went head-to-head against the ace detective in front of the entire school; her questions are brutal. “I don’t know, honestly. I was planning on ignoring the problem for now and just sort of,” he gestures vaguely. “Enjoy the summertime sun?”
“A moment,” Haru goes through her bag. “It’s a long story, but I have these—”
The second the books peek out of her tote, he recognizes the cover immediately. “Cram books? You bought some?”
“Yes!” she answers, mistaking his reaction for eagerness. “It’s a very small gesture, but I’d love for you to have them.”
“I—” he leans away from them, breath catching in his throat. “No.”
“No?” she blinks.
“Not now, senpai.” Trying out his new trick again, he forces his heart to slow down, forces his breathing to regulate again without any of the techniques, and forces himself not to feel any of the fear that he’d normally have to go through. It works, but barely. “I’m not—I don’t think I’m ready to deal with that yet.”
“That’s fine.” Haru puts them away, and as hard as he tries, he can still see how dejected she was. “I’ll hold on to them for you.”
“Thank you.” He glances around. “Any last takers? Q&A is almost up.”
“I have one,” Yusuke pipes up.
“Go for it.”
“How are you?” he asks genuinely.
Ryuji can’t help it—a laugh gets pulled out of him. “How am I?” he repeats.
“Yes. How are you?”
“Uh,” he laughs again. “Not good, man. Not good.”
Everyone startles when Ryuji stands abruptly. He slams down the rest of his lemonade, relieved at how it helps his parched throat. “Alrighty, that took a lot out of me! Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of being surrounded by fake coffee and poser cafe fanatics.”
“I’ll take care of the bill,” Haru says, following his lead and scooting out from the booth.
“What? No, come on. I don’t care how rich you are, at least let me pay half.”
“Ryuji.” She looks him dead in the eye. “I’ll take care of the bill.”
“...Yes ma’am.”
Slowly, they all start filing out, some exiting the cafe while Makoto goes to the till with Haru. Ryuji reaches for Ann’s elbow before she can leave. “Hey.”
Turning her head, it’s as if her lips were permanently stitched downwards. “Yeah?”
“I’m really sorry I lied to you,” he says, somber. “That was shitty, and it doesn’t matter what I’m going through—you can’t deal with lies. I get that. I won’t put you through that again.”
Ann kisses her palm before slapping it against his forehead. “You better not,” her voice drips in affection. “You said not to console you—”
“I did, and I meant it.”
“But I’m here for you,” she rubs his skin harder, and he winces at the chafing. “You know that, right? No matter how crazy the shit inside your head gets, I want you to talk to me.”
“I know it,” he says, not just because he wants the friction to ease up. “I know it now, for sure.”
“Good.” Ann releases him, and goes to join Haru and Makoto up front. “You might want to head out. Someone’s starting to make a fuss.”
“What?” he turns around, making direct eye contact with Futaba, nursing a blank expression on her face. “I see.”
The bell chimes once more when he steps out, relieved at the cool summer air that hits him. “Shorty,” he says in lieu of a greeting. “What’s good?”
“Here.” Ryuji glances down at her, who’s holding a familiar, now very-crumpled envelope between her fingers. It’s weird seeing her hold the letter announcing his failure like a bomb, but he understands the sentiment. “I had to show Ann because she wouldn’t believe me until I got some proof.”
“Thank you,” he says, shoving it in his pocket. “I’m not mad at you, you know.”
“I know you’re not.” She swallows and stares down at her shoes. Her laces were covered in little beads and stars, something he had bought for her during a weekend hangout once. “This isn’t me pitying you, or showering you with some kind of boohoo potion.”
She swallows again. “I failed my first year of high school. It was for a completely different reason—guilt for who I thought I killed rather than wanting to be something else. But I know. I know so much about what you’re going through.”
Futaba looks up, and his heart wrenches when he sees the tears in her eyes. “I’m so, so sorry if I made you sad, or that I kept calling you stupid back then,” she sobs. “I don’t mean it, and I’m so mean to you all of the time but I don’t mean any of it. I told everyone your secret because I wanted to—” she hiccups, and she pushes her glasses to the top of her head. “I wanted to give you your own version of what the Phantom Thieves did for me, but I reached out to you guys back then. No one forced me to do anything, but I took that choice away from you.”
He pulls her in his arms, and her tears are hot even through his shirt. “I know, Futaba,” he says, patting her head. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
She hits his chest weakly. “Me taking care of you?” she sniffs. “I’m literally the one crying right now.”
“Just for now though,” he shrugs. “Next time I cry, you’ll be the one handing me tissues, I swear.”
They stand there, the two of them standing in the middle of Sapporo while people give them weird looks—Futaba, unable to stop the tears from flowing down her cheeks, and Ryuji, refusing to ever let his emotions make things worse for everyone else again.
When they get back to the RV, each of them emotionally exhausted, Ryuji goes to kiss the top of Akira’s head. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Akira looks up from his card game with Morgana and Sophia. “You look like you had a wild night. Ann take you all somewhere fun?”
“Totally,” he says, sliding the letter back in his backpack. “Best night ever.”
“Take me next time. Sophia’s kicking our ass.”
“She is not!” Morgana denies, tail swishing. “Just a little,” he relents.
“I’m gonna get ready for bed,” Ryuji announces, hiking his backpack on his shoulders and heading out, before running into Ann outside.
“Oh my god,” she says, disturbed. “He really, really doesn’t know.”
“Yup,” he moves past her. “And we’re keeping it that way.”
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