#a day later and i notice the typo send me to hell right now thanks

[birdnaps]

Well I'll be okay, though I'm not okay today.

HELLUVA BOSS || 2.12 SINSMAS

[aiiwa]

BEAUTIFUL IN BLUE — IWAIZUMI HAJIME.

— iwaizumi hajime.

⤷ genre: college au - fluff / smut

⤷ warnings: cursing, mature content and themes. smut: fingering (vaginal and anal), unprotected sex. kind of proof read but if you see a typo...no you didn’t.

⤷ word count: 6.4k

— a/n: set in the “FRESHMAN YEAR” universe, and is a continuation of “PRETTY IN PINK” - which i suggest reading before this. for those who wanted some real action after pretty in pink, this is for you <3.

a couple of weeks had passed since the incident. at least that’s what you had been addressing the day you had sent photos of you modelling your new lingerie to iwa, as. things had seemingly returned back to normal, photo unmentioned, and still your steady friendship continued with the oblivious brunette.

and now november had announced its arrival, with your boots beginning to disappear under crunchy oceans of cherry, merigold and bronze, and the potent, musky-sweet smell of browning leaves swirling around the air. it was the tell tale sign that fall was well and truly here, and what better of a time to drive out of town for the day, and celebrate momijigari.

at least that’s what you had told yourself before, what was meant to be a two hour drive, turned into over three hours spent in a car with the oversized toddlers know as your best friends.

“i’m hungry~!” whined toddler number one from behind you.

mattsun outstretched his long arms, reaching around the passenger seat you sat in, in an attempt to steal more of your snacks. you had made sure everyone knew to bring their own food and water, double- no, triple checked everyone was on the same page. but of course it was no surprise that mattsun was the only one to turn up empty handed. so when his grabby hands slapped against your cheeks for the nth time, you angled your face and snapped your jaw right on his thumb.

mattsun shrieks, jolting back away from you. “fucking hell, y/n!”

twisting around in your seat, you smirk, watching as he checked over the distinct bite mark on his red thumb.

“ha, serves you right.” pipes the figure slouched next to mattsun in the back seat. “ugh i need to take a leak.”

the peach-haired, number two toddler was none other than makki. he’d woken up cranky that morning, and it only seemed to worsen when he’d been shoved into the back with the chatty mattsun. within the first ten minutes he had tried to suffocate the latter with his pillow, and when that didn’t work, he took to blasting music in his headphones and facing himself towards the window for majority of the ride. only engaging with everyone when you began snacking, and he had decided to drink all of his juice just to spite mattsun.

“oi, iwa! control your gremlin!”

“shut up.”

“no, you shut up! you didn’t even want to share your juice with me!”

“i will literally piss on you right now.”

losing interest in the bickering duo behind you, your attention diverted to the third, brooding toddler beside you in the driver’s seat. you had spent majority of the drive admiring the way iwa handled himself behind the wheel; the flex of his arms under the fitted cotton of his blue long sleeve as he turned the wheel, and how the pads of his long fingers would tap against the worn leather to the beat of whatever tune began playing on shuffle. yet out of everything, it was when iwa took to mumbling the lyrics of whichever cheesy love song you were belting out to, that you found yourself falling even deeper into the pit of your affections for him.

throughout the drive, iwa had mostly managed to ignore the others’ antics - with your intervention of course. but with how tight his grip on the steering wheel had become from the squabbling in the backseat, and the dark look brewing under his cap; it was clear how close he was to losing his cool.

extending your arm out in front of him, you offer the hershey bar in your hand, brushing it against the pout of his bottom lip. iwa’s olive eyes glance questioningly at you from the side, to which you only offer a small grin.

“take a bite.” you order. the, ‘you look like you need it,’ is silent, but obvious in the way you prod the treat at his closed mouth.

“mmph-”

his eyes returned to the road before him as he parted his lips, pink tongue making a brief appearance before he took a small bite of your chocolate. you attempt to retract your arm, until iwa moves one hand to grab your wrist; bringing you back to him to take a bigger bite of the sweet, thumb rubbing against the inner side of your palm.

the corner of his mouth tugs upwards, as he mumbles a small, “thank you.”

heat floods your cheeks, and you catch yourself before you drop the chocolate on his lap. distracted by the deafening beat of your heart pounding in your ears, you don’t notice the silence that fills the car, or the not-so subtle click of mattsun snapping a photo of the two of you in the front and sending it to the group chat. you’re pulled out of your slight trance, by a flash of peach entering your field of view.

“that was disgusting...ly sweet. and now i suddenly need to puke, so hurry it up would you.”

as makki leans back, mattsun is quick to replace him, popping his head between you and iwa.

“don’t just ignore me, y/n, feed me chocolate too!”

rolling your eyes, you shove the bar in his mouth; the rest of you three laugh as he falls back into his seat, all the while he happily munches on the treat.

a little time passes before iwa’s flicking his indicator, signalling his turn into the free parking space outside the nature reserve. he shifts the gear into park before everyone piles out - makki walking over to wrap his thick, fossil grey scarf around your neck, the cashmere soft against your skin; while mattsun offers to carry your little backpack, only sending you a sly smile when you question his reasoning for taking the bag from you. you hug iwa’s offered arm to your chest, as the four of you start trekking along the uneven pathways leading towards lake kawaguchi. the walk isn’t necessarily long, but none of you are in a rush - strolling leisurely and enjoying the atmosphere.

and when you finally reach the end of your walk, you still yourself, awestruck by the beauty surrounding you. the glassy lake shimmering under the afternoon rays, crisp maple leaves painted red, swaying to the breezy flow of the cool wind, and the tinkling laughter from young children running about on the golden fields - filled your chest with warmth.

“it’s so beautiful here.”

your voice comes out as a whisper for only iwa’s ears to hear; with makki off to relieve himself and mattsun trailing after him, acting as if you didn’t see him rummaging through your snacks. iwa only hums in agreement, missing the way he hasn’t even acknowledged the view, his gaze set solely on you.

this is what the tradition of momijigari meant; taking time away from your busy schedule to spend a moment to enjoy this small piece of life. and of course, capturing the moment with some of your favourite people on camera. so when you busied yourself with taking photos with the towering men, it really shouldn’t have surprised you when your phone began to buzz with an incoming facetime call.

sliding your thumb across the screen to answer the call, you’re greeted by the sight of oikawa’s toothy grin; illuminated by a bright light you knew had to be artificial, since it was nearing two a.m. in argentina.

“yahoo, y/n-chan! you didn’t think i’d miss out on a photoshoot did you? i already missed out on you feeding me chocolate!” you shoot an embarrassed glanced at iwa, noticing the slight furrow between his brows and the faint dust of pink across his cheeks.

“photoshoot…?” a confused makki mumbles behind you.

mattsun leans over your shoulder, shoving his face in the camera. “oi, isn’t it late for you?”

you raise a single shaped brow as oikawa scoffs, brushing his fingers through his perfectly styled hair. “the pretty face of this group has finally blessed you, and that’s all you have to say?” mattsun scrunches his face in offence, as oikawa continues. “besides, i may be in a different country but i refuse to miss out!”

and it was because of his soft pout that you found yourself posing with your phone by your face, making sure to catch oikawa’s best angles; having long given up on questioning the setter and his antics. the so-called photoshoot came to an abrupt end later on when a tired and cranky oikawa yawned, apparently ruining another photo according to him, and iwa’s finger just so happened to slip and disconnect the video call.

“he’s stubborn.” was all he had said when you, makki and mattsun side eyed him. “we should head back home before it gets late.”

the drive back to tokyo seemed relatively faster than the journey to fujikawaguchiko. it was as if your body went into autopilot as you sat behind the wheel, this time taking responsibility as the driver while the boys napped; only coming to when you were parking iwa’s truck into their apartment’s parking lot, moments after the sun had set.

it was a silent and unanimous decision to order take out for dinner, the four of you seated around the black walnut dining table to dig in. meal times with the boys were hectic, and competitive for the most part - it was survival of the fittest. you were often being challenged by mattsun - tonight having lost the last few gyoza to him.

though it became obvious who the real loser was when mattsun flopped his head onto your lap, while you were lounging out on the settee.

“y/n~” mattsun drawled out. “rub my belly, it hurts!”

“no.”

“please, y/n~! my one and only best friend, the moon to my stars, the curry to my rice-”

he releases a satisfied sigh once you reach a hand out to press your palm against his stomach, rubbing soothing circles to stop his whining; and you catch makki roll his beady eyes at the two of you, as he flicks through suggested films to watch on netflix. iwa strolls into the living room, pillows and a comforter stacked in his arms; laying them neatly on the couch he shares with you on movie nights.

“oh, iwa, could you send me the photos please?” he nods his head once, barely glancing over at you and mattsun; pulling out his phone and dropping himself unceremoniously across the adjacent sofa. “thank you.” you call out once your phone pings with several notifications.

still rubbing mattsun’s stomach, your free hand casually scrolls through the pictures from today.

you snicker to yourself at the first series of chaotic images. a selfie with smushed faces pressed together and a phone-sized oikawa tucked right under your jaw, a blurry pic of the boys throwing vermillion leaves at each other, and even a timed snapshot where you, mattsun and makki had leapt on iwa’s back - your legs wrapped around his torso, while makki squished you from behind, and mattsun had flopped himself on top of the pile. there was even a shot of the aftermath, your phone and oikawa somehow surviving the tumble, and a deadpanned iwa staring straight at the camera as the three of you behind him cackled with your heads thrown back.

at least a few wholesome pictures had been captured. a sweet group photo with all of you huddled by each other in front of a vibrant maple tree; you and iwa were flanked by mattsun and makki respectively, as oikawa was held between you and iwa like a prized trophy. even a rare moment where makki and mattsun had their arms hooked around each other, with easy going grins on both of their faces, had been caught.

butterflies erupted in your tummy, fluttering about once you swiped to the next photo. it was a candid shot of you and iwa standing by the brilliant blue lake front. you were leaning into his side, holding two leaves at the top of your head to mimic cat ears, face tilted upwards. giggling, your eyes were shut, and only now can you see that you missed the soft smile iwa donned looking down at you.

it was almost painful to admit that together you looked like a couple, and it didn’t help that most times you even acted as such. sneaking a glance at the man in question, you watch him chatting quietly to makki, gripping your phone tightly in your grasp at the sound of him laughing at whatever snide comment escaped your peach-haired friend. you couldn’t help but sigh, being in love with one of your best friends only got harder each day.

unknowingly you had already swiped to the last photo iwa had sent, so when you return your gaze the screen, you shriek; dropping your phone flat on mattsun’s face.

“um, what the fuck, ow.”

iwa’s sharp eyes shoot towards you instantly. “what’s wrong?”

you only shake your head, warmth filling your cheeks and an itch you just can’t scratch prickling under your skin. makki only shrugs, shifting his attention back to the television. iwa is more hesitant, the feeling of his olive eyes giving you a once over does nothing to calm your nerves from being sent into overdrive. when he finally turns away, you release a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“ugh, what even had you going even more crazy than usual all of a sudden?” mattsun groans from your lap. as he reaches to lift your phone off of his face, you’re quick to snatch the device away.

“n-nothing!” he only raises a thick brow at your defensive tone, before grabbing your hand to continue your ministrations.

glancing around the room, you pull the screen close to your face; taking in the photo, you felt your mouth run dry. 

there was no way this could have been sent to you on purpose - because the sight of a shirtless iwa at his second home, the gym, was definitely not taken at lake kawaguchi. anyone with eyes could tell how ripped iwa was under his fitted shirts. but over the past few months you had noticed that he’d run off to the gym more often; and it was obvious in the way his clothes struggled to stretch over his bulked up build these days.

it was a mid work out, mirror selfie; iwa’s dark, mocha coloured hair plastered to his forehead, bare chest glistening from the sweat dripping down from his neck. he was seated on the rubber floor, one long, tanned leg stretched out in front of him with the other bent at the knee, elbow resting loosely against his leg. your eyes greedily took in the defined dips of his toned stomach, dark snail trail leading downwards to the evident bulge of his grey shorts; the hem cutting into the flexed muscles of his thighs.

the heat pooling between your thighs as your imagination ran wild was just about to peak when-

“oi, y/n.” you almost jump, locking your screen, and blinking away the dazed look in your eyes. when your vision cleared, you found makki standing in front of you. “we’re gonna watch the movie now.”

“oh, right.”

mattsun rolls off your lap with a groan, complaining to makki about who is gonna rub his belly now, while you stand up. shuffling over to iwa, he stretches before shifting and making room for you to squeeze in next to him.

“c’mere.” he mumbles, throwing his arm around you and pulling you into his side.

the beat of your pounding heart is almost deafening in your ears, you’re near to hyperventilating, as your mind is sent into overdrive. the two of you were always cuddling platonically during movies, ever since the one time you had complained about being cold in their apartment. but this time was different. ‘is this how he felt when you had sent a picture of your new lingerie?’ you think to yourself. you spend the next hour deep in your thoughts, completely lost to whatever is happening in the sci-fi film makki had chosen, and when the end credits start rolling on the screen - iwa announces he’ll drop you off back to your dorm.

it’s close to midnight; so makki wishes you a goodnight, as a sleepy mattsun rests against his shoulder, making grabby hands for you not to go. you wave as you leave, following after iwa who opens the passenger side door of his truck, helping you jump up into the seat, before closing the door and making his way to the driver’s side.

your dorm isn’t too far from their apartment complex, so you’re not surprised at how quick the ride is. the street is unusually busy, yet completely void of any roaming students. and with no private parking for students, iwa’s forced to pull up near a secluded cluster of tall trees, a bit away from the dorm entrance.

“i’ll walk you in.” iwa says, leaving no room for argument. he reaches for his phone, as a message flashes across his screen. “oh, oikawa asked why you’ve been ignoring his messages.”

“huh?” you flip your own phone in your hand, watching as the facial recognition unlocks and suddenly iwa’s gym selfie is on full display for the both of you. it takes a moment for you to process the situation, and all you can manage is a simple, “oh,” as you resist the urge to fling your phone out of the window.

“nice photo.” iwa pipes up, you don’t even try to look at him, but the smirk in his tone is evident. “where’d you get it?”

his question throws you off, and you’re quick to turn your head to narrow your eyes at him. “what do you mean? iwa, you literally sent it to me?!”

“really? shit i must have done it by accident.”

“an accident?”

“yeah, like what you did to me. remember?”

you gasp, moving back almost as if you’ve been struck, while iwa simply laughs at your expression. a full on belly laugh that has him throwing his head back, illuminated by the glow emitting through his open moon roof. you should’ve been dwelling in the embarrassment that came with him turning your own words back on you - yet you found your own laughter mixing in with his. only when both of you had calmed down a bit, did an electrified silence fill the car.

fiddling with your phone in your lap, the strands of hair curtaining the sides of your face, is brushed aside and tucked behind the cuff of your ear. glancing at iwa, the corner of his mouth is pulled up into a fond smile as his thumb caresses the shell of your ear.

“sorry for teasing you, pretty lady. couldn’t help myself after you sent me that picture looking all pretty in pink.”

“i…” words escape you as his large hand trails down the side of your cheek. you’re suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to do something - it’s almost at the tip of your tongue, before you grab at his wrist and whisper a, “fuck it.”

leaning over the middle, you reach a hand to hold the back of his head as your lips press against his own. lips even softer than they appeared, the lingering taste of his wild cherry lip balm, the same one you owned, tasted sweeter than you remembered. after a moment, of the kiss not being reciprocated, you pull back.

“just had to do it once.” you murmur, lips still tingling.

iwa’s minty breath fans across your face as he releases an airy sigh. “then let’s do it a second time.”

this time his hand wraps loosely around your neck, pulling you towards him, and slanting his mouth over yours. you moan into the kiss as his tongue darts out to tease your lower lip. leaning into him, you almost keel forward as this time he pulls away. slightly breathless, you open your eyes to take in the barely restrained lust and adoration in his handsome features, mimicking you’re own.

“third time’s a charm, right?”

the devilish grin iwa gives you in response to your innocently posed question, has you climbing over the centre console. at the same time he’s rolling the chair back away from the leather steering wheel, making space for you to slide onto his lap and straddle him. molding your lips to his, the feeling of your tongue exploring his mouth and you grinding into him slowly; has him release a hiss as his hands grab at the fullness of your ass.

tugging at his collar, your words are muffled against his mouth. “take this off, now.”

he chuckles at your demand, pulling the hem of his shirt past the bulk of his shoulders and over his head - blindly throwing it to the backseat. you drag your eyes over the sight of his broad chest, taking in every delicious dip of his stomach; leaning forward, your tongue licks a tentative stripe along his neck, that has iwa’s breath hitch before peppering wet kisses along his skin. your hands roam around his toned body, while his own larger ones slide under your top; a searing hot trail following his exploration of your body. he draws small circles at your hips, leading up to hold your waist and bring your even closer against him.

“your turn, baby.” he whispers to you, fisting the bottom half of your top. “be fair to me, i wanna see more of you.”

sitting up straight in his lap, you slip the thin top over your head; following his suit in flinging it to the backseat. your hair brushed past your bare shoulders, exposed skin feeling the chill of the autumn night; but the look in iwa’s olive eyes, irradiated by the moonlight streaming in from the uncovered moonroof, was scorching hot. rough palms, flat against your smooth skin, slid over your tummy, teasing the sheer mesh of your bra, before playing with the baby blue ribbons on the straps.

“y/n.” iwa groans out, tracing the floral stitching and feeling the hardened nubs of your nipples under the fabric. with the moon haloing behind you, the way he stares up at you is so raw and intense, it has you frozen in anticipation. “you look so fucking beautiful in blue.”

he doesn’t wait for your response as he reaches behind you to unhook your bra, freeing your breasts from its confines. iwa’s quick to take a pebbled nub into his hot mouth, suckling as his fingers tweak the other. your fingers thread through his dark locks, when he moves and switches his focus; a lewd string of saliva dragging from your nipple to his pink tongue. stuttered grinding from his mouth distracting you, had you reaching a hand between each other to palm his erection - wanting to ease some of the tension. but iwa’s quick to snatch your hand away.

“iwa...let me touch you?”

releasing you from his mouth, he kisses the pout from your lips. “no, baby, don’t worry about me.”

“why not?” you whine.

“i wanna make you feel real good, gotta prep you for me first. is that okay with you, baby?” he only smiles softly as you start to relax against him. “i need to know if you’re okay with this. care about you so much, i just want you to be comfortable. let me know if you wanna stop right now.”

“no, h-haji...please, i don’t want to stop. i want you so bad. i need you, ah-”

your consent was all he needed before he pulls you back into him, kissing you so slow you feel dizzy; his hands travel low on your body, working the button of your jeans, as your fingers dig into his shoulders. when he breaks away from you, he helps you slip out of the dark denim, tugging each pant leg off until all you wearing is the stringy, baby blue panties that leaves little to the imagination.

“fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me.” iwa groans out, rubbing a hand across his face as you giggle lightly. while you hover over him, he quickly strips off his pants, kicking them off onto the floor before grabbing onto your hips. “flip around on me, baby. that’s right, face the front.”

settling down onto his lap, the thin cotton of his briefs does nothing to hide the print of his hard-on he’s sporting underneath. and with your back pressed to his warm chest, you roll your hips teasingly into him.

“come on, haji...let me help you.” you huff, continuing to grind against him.

“oi, cut it out.”

his grip on your hips tighten in warning, and you gasp as he manhandles you easily. shifting you around so that the heel of your left foot digs into his thigh, the other secured at the edge of the leather wheel; he has your legs wide open. before you can even think about any stragglers catching you so vulnerable; iwa hooks his arm under your thigh, pads of his fingers brushing over your clothed pussy.

“haaaa~” you breathe out, hips jerking into his touch.

“fuck baby, your panties are soaked.” he continues to tease you over the drenched crotch of your panties. iwa rubs lazy circles, casually sliding under the material to play with your silk folds. his touches have you yearning for more, as you feel yourself slowly going insane as he starts to coat his fingers in your slick.

“mmm...touch me, haji...properly.”

wriggling around in his embrace, you keen once he pulls his hand away from you; holding his fingers before you, showing off how they glisten so prettily in under the moon. and then you watch over your shoulder as he leads his hand to his mouth, and licks his fingers clean.

“you taste so fucking sweet.” he’s quick to bring his fingers back to your drooling pussy, coating his fingers once again, but this time bringing them to your own lips. “here, have a taste for yourself.”

opening your mouth, iwa wastes no time pressing his long digits flat against your tongue. sucking on his fingers, you savour the saccharine essence of your pussy; moaning at your own flavour sending your tastebuds into overdrive. iwa hums, heated gaze taking in the way you take his fingers in your mouth; he slowly pulls them back out with a pop - smiling softly at the way you stare at him, all wide-eyed and wanton.

“should we get you out of these messy panties now, baby?”

at your eager nods, iwa presses a kiss to your shoulder as he has you lift your hips up; slipping your soaked panties off, and placing them on the passenger seat side the two of you. sitting you back down against him, he hooks both arms around the undersides of your thighs, grabbing at your soft flesh and spreading you wide open for him. you whimper when a big hand cups your sex, rough palm brushing against your throbbing clit.

“shh.” iwa coos, entranced with how you’re rolling your hips to grind against his hand. “i got you.”

he presses his thumb against your clit, circling the sensitive bud peaking past your puffy lips; as his middle finger teases your slit. slowly he pushes his finger inside you, a heavy, relieved moan escapes your throat, as he easily slides in and out of you. through heavy lidded eyes you watch as fog clouds the windows of iwa’s truck, the glass steamy; while perspiration collects between your bodies. you’re brought back to focus on iwa, when he teases a second finger against your slit, dipping inside you and stretching you out even more. hissing, you clench around him; the lewd squelches as he fucks you with his thick fingers, has you digging your heels into his thigh and the steering wheel.

the way iwa’s fingers reaches deeper inside than you could ever on your own, and the added stimulation to your clit, has the tightening coil in your belly snap as you cum all over his hand.

“oh baby, feels good doesn’t it?”

“yeshhh...h-haji, mmph-”

he doesn’t stop pumping you with his fingers, letting you ride out your orgasm to the end. even when you feel the high descend, twitching at the slight overstim, you expect him to stop. but all he does is bury his face in the crook between your shoulder and neck, dragging his teeth across the sensitive skin as the hand not occupied with your pussy, fondles your ass. you lean into him, mewling at his touches when your breath hitches at a new sensation.

“haji, no! it’s dirty!”

the hand at your ass had moved to pet at your puckered hole - completely drenched in your cum, he was sure he could slide a single finger in with ease. and he was right. the feeling of your tight hole being prodded, stretched by the tip of his forefinger, before sucking the entire digit inside - had you throwing your head back in pleasure.

“f-ah-uck! oh shit, nghhh!”

“you gonna cum again for me, baby?”

the feeling of both your ass and pussy being stuffed full of iwa’s fingers is overwhelming. you’re a panting and moaning mess, writhing on top of him. and when the back of your head is thrown back into iwa’s shoulder, all you can see is hazy stars in the sky as you stare up, completely intoxicated by the feeling of his fingers moving inside you - brushing against the thin barrier of skin between your two holes. the familiar pressure in your tummy has you bucking your hips and crying out.

“you’re squeezing my fingers so tight.” he maintains the same steady pace, fucking his fingers into you nice and deep, while working your sensitive clit. its only a few seconds later he hits a particular spot that has you jolting forward, crying out at your sudden release. “shit, that’s right, i can feel you cumming all over my hands again, baby.”

you can barely think straight as your body trembles from the aftershocks of your second orgasm. still in a daze, iwa eases his fingers out of your twitching holes, and you groan at the empty feeling.

“you okay?” iwa asks, wrapping his arm around your waist. you nod, chest heaving as you attempt to steady your breathing. “you think you can cum one more time from my fingers-”

“no!” you grab at his wrists when he moves to play with you again. “i need you inside me, haji. please.”

whatever calm iwa had possessed while pleasuring you had vanished at your words. sticky hands lifted you up by your waist, turning you around to straddle him - while he slightly lowered the back of his seat. lip locked, your hands find themselves wrapped around the nape of his neck, while iwa’s hands grab at your body - stilling your wriggling form as he grinds up into you.

without breaking the kiss, you reach down and ease your fingers under the elastic waistband of his briefs; hand brushing against the tip of iwa’s cock. that earns you a muffled groan as he allows you to hover over him and slide the boxer briefs down his muscled thighs. your mouth salivates at the sight of his cock slapping against his toned stomach. he was easily the biggest you’d ever seen, with a thick vein on the underside, and a red, angry tip leaking pre-cum.

“fuck, you’re so big haji.”

he hisses when your hand touches him, you can barely wrap your fingers around him; and you start to question if he could even fit inside you. iwa notices the slight hesitation in your movements.

“we don’t have to.” he reassures, brushing the hair out of your lust filled eyes. “i can play with you some more, or i can eat you out in the back seat-”

“-haji.” you cut him off, stroke him before lining him at your dripping entrance, grinding the leaking tip across your slit. “i’ve wanted this for so long.” lowering yourself, you gasp at the delicious stretch of his tip entering you. “i’ve wanted you for so long. don’t hold back, give me everything.” and with that, you completely impale yourself on his cock.

“fuck, y/n, i can feel you clamping down on me- shit baby, you gotta move.”

lifting one leg at a time, you shift around off of your knees, steadying yourself on your tip toes; before grabbing onto iwa’s shoulders and starting to slowly ride him. his hands roam across your body freely, loving squeezes trailed in their path, as praise after praise is whispered out to you.

“you take my cock so well, fuck.”

your fingers dig into his shoulder blades as you quicken your pace. bouncing yourself faster on his fat cock, iwa’s attention is drawn to to the way your breasts move in front of him; massaging the soft flesh, and then leaning forward to smush his face between them.

“could stay right here forever.” his muffled voice croons. 

you whimper at the feeling of his hot tongue dragging a wet trail down the valley between your breasts, and you’re certain plum love bites will have bloomed across your chest by sunrise. your arms shoot up to press against the foggy glass of the moon roof above you, palms pressed flat against the steamy window, handprints painted on the transparent screen - as you bounce harder and faster. the lewd sound of your ass slapping against his thighs and of your pussy sucking him in with each stroke; shows how desperate you are to cum again.

“you’ll cum on my cock, won’t you baby? i can feel how close you are, shit, you’re so close aren’t you?”

the way you ride him gradually becomes sloppier the closer you are to cumming, so when he holds your waist and helps you bounce on him, you cry out in relief.

“f-fuck, feels s’g-good, haji! nghh, yes, yes, yes-!”

only as he reaches a hand down to roll your sensitive clit between his index and thumb, do you fall apart on his cock. your velvety walls spasm around him as he continues to fuck you through your high in chase of his own, overstimming you even more as you cream all over him, tongue lolling out. the sheer intensity of your orgasm has you collapsing forward onto his heaving chest, a babbling mess, while he holds you to him.

“you made such a mess on me, baby.” he huffs out.

“h-haji.” you whimper into his neck, arms looped around his. “s’too sensitive, haaa~”

your knees are by his hips, the tops of your feet pressed against his inner thighs, as he rolls his hips into you. large hands slide down your spine, over the curve of your ass to knead the smooth flesh in his palms.

“just hold on to me baby. you got one last one for me, don’t you?” all you can do is nod, releasing an onslaught of mewls and moans. “that’s a good girl, fuck.”

iwa is relentless in pursuit of his own orgasm - fucking into you at a punishing pace that has your mouth jar open in a silent cry, his truck jolting with each snap of his hips. your juices completely drench his cock, allowing him to slide in and out of you with ease, and you’re sure by now your pussy has been shaped out by the imprint of his cock. you can feel him throbbing inside of you, close to his climax; while his fingers dig into your ass shoving you down on his cock, and hitting your sweet spot over and over that you can’t help but gush all over him yet again.

“h-ah-ji, hnghh!” you sob, your body spent and thighs slick with your cum.

iwa only lasts a little longer with the way you were clenching down on him; pulling out of your fucked out pussy, and setting you on his thighs. he fists his cock in his hand, jerking himself a few times before thick, white cum spurts out - coating his entire hand and painting his stomach.

“mmm baby, that was fucking amazing.” he growls out, leaning back into the seat to catch his breath. “d’you feel okay?”

you only hum, entranced by how much cum he spilled. or wasted, you thought to yourself.

“can you reach over to the back and grab the towel in my gym bag, gotta clean us up…” your lack of focus has iwa trailing off. “y/n?”

“we don’t need the towel.”

reaching for the hand covered in his seed, you bring it to your mouth. iwa tries to question what you meant by that, though he’s cut off when you lick a tentative strip across his palm. gathering his cum on your tongue, you swirl his essence around in your mouth, before swallowing. you make a show of taking each finger in your mouth, sucking his cum clean. once his hand is licked clean, you slide down his lap; ready to do the same over his abs.

“you’re so good to me, y/n.” iwa runs his fingers through your hair, and then pats your head. “y/n?” he calls out again, still petting your head just as your about to trace the dips of his stomach with your tongue.

“hmm?”

“y/n? y/n?”

you move back away from him. “what?”

“y/n? oi, y/n? wake up!”

iwa watches as you jolt up from where you had fallen asleep on his lap. makki, who had been hovering over you, moves away as you try to swat at him - a confused look on your face.

“huh?”

“you fell asleep.” makki informs her. “you were interrupting the movie. if you’re that tired, just sleep in one of our rooms.”

lazed out on the other couch, mattsun pipes up; “yeah, you were making these ugly noises and then iwa said you licked his hand, what a weirdo.”

he only clears his throat awkwardly, finding a sudden interest in the beige walls of their living room. he misses the horrified expression on your pretty face, scrunched up in utter embarrassment, before you turn to start arguing with mattsun.

iwa was grateful for the pillow resting over lap, hiding the evident hard-on he was sporting. he wanted to argue with mattsun too, because the sounds you made were definitely far from ugly.

© 2020 AIIWA. please do not copy, modify or repost my work.

[youngbloodlisk]

[sunwoo cheating angst au part 2]

part 1

- mentions of pregnancy

- mentions of cheating

- sunwoo is an actual asshole in this (totally different from how he seems to be irl lmao)

- protective bf eric

- excuse typos im sorry

- set almost 5 years after part 1 !!

"You didn't say they would be coming." I whisper.

"I'm sorry, I thought you'd assume they'd be here. Sunwoo fucked up badly, but he's still in The Boyz. It was open invitation to the group and managers, you said that was okay."

"I know, and it is okay. Really. I just wasn't... thinking about it, I guess."

"It's a big party. There's a lot of people. You may not even have to see him much, or talk to him at all."

"Yeah. I don't know, Eric..." I glance over to the couple and 4 year old child. "I can't. I can't do this. I'm sorry. Can you keep an eye on Bella? She's over there by the couch coloring." I point him towards the child and he nods.

"Sure, yeah." He rubs my back lightly. "You go upstairs and rest, have some alone time. I'll fill you in later on anything. If anyone asks, I'll just say you aren't feeling well."

"Thank you." A small smile reaches my face, looking at the man who picked me up when I had been pushed down and took care of me and Bella.

"I love you, honey." He kisses my forehead.

"I love you, too."

I try to sneak to the staircase as fast as I can, but people keep stopping me to say hello.

It's Eric's birthday party, my living room full of people who know me, most of whom have even known me since I was with Sunwoo.

Small talk, catching up, the like. All of which I am not in the mood for, as Sunwoo makes his way closer and closer to me.

The moment my hand touches the banister of the stairs, I hear it.

"Hey. It's been a while."

I gulp as I turn around, facing Sunwoo.

"Yeah, it has... How-uh... How have you been?"

"We've been okay. Juno's a good kid, sometimes I think he makes parenting too easy on us."

"That's nice..."

"And you? How have you been? You and Eric got together?"

"Yeah, after I left that day I went to his apartment. I stayed with him for a while and things just fell into place."

"I've noticed your kid on social media." His attempt to be casual and civil turns hostile quickly upon mentioning Bella. "Same age as Juno? So, what happened? You left me and fucked Eric the same day or something? Actually, just tell me the kid's birthday, let me do the math. Were you fucking my best friend while we were together?"

I almost laugh at his sudden burst.

"You don't have a right to talk about cheating, Sunwoo."

"At least I fessed up."

"After you got her pregnant." My voice raises slightly.

"You were apparently pregnant and still didn't think it was important to tell me."

"How was I supposed to tell you about Bella when you had just dropped that on me? You think that would have been easy?"

"Why hadn't you told me sooner? Didn't wanna be the cheater in the relationship? Well look at you now, huh?"

Another voice enters the conversation.

"Sunwoo, don't you dare talk to my girlfriend like that. Especially not after what you did to her. Don't make me ask you to leave."

"I'm just pointing out that we were apparently on the same page the whole time. We just didn't tell each other. How do you feel knowing your girlfriend is a cheater?"

"You would know how that feels. Didn't your wife cheat on Changmin with you? I'd imagine it wouldn't be much better than knowing another man is taking care of your child and surely doing better at it than you ever could-"

Eric looks as though he immediately regrets saying that last sentence. He turns to me with apologetic eyes, as I never wanted Sunwoo to know...

"What the hell are you talking about?"

I hold back tears and look Sunwoo straight in the eyes. He had to find out eventually, right?

"Bella's biologically your daughter, Sunwoo."

Sunwoo's entire demeanor changes in a snap. Just as fast as he got hostile, he softens.

"She's... she's... mine?"

"Sunwoo-" He gets too heated again before I can get him to calm down.

"How could you have not told me about this?! That's my kid, that's my DNA. You didn't think that was important information?"

"Sunwoo, you have to understand-"

"I wanna meet her, I want her to know who her real father is. That's my kid."

Eric steps in again.

"Biologically, yeah. Bella's your DNA. But I have been her father for almost 5 years, not you. I've been the one taking care of these two, the best girls I've ever had in my life. Not you. Give it up, Sunwoo. You chose what you wanted. You made your bed, you lie in it. Now, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave."

"Leave?" Sunwoo repeats the word as if it's the most preposterous thing he's ever heard.

"Yes, leave. You're causing a scene at my party in my home. I do not want you here. Get out."

"This is... ridiculous, Eric. How would you feel if you were in my shoes?"

"I wouldn't be in your shoes. I'm not a fan of cheating. Your wife and your kid can stay, they've caused no problems, but you? Get the fuck out of my house."

Sunwoo opens his mouth to speak, but closes it and simply pokes his cheek with his tongue in anger.

He turns and looks at Bella, happily coloring in her Pokémon coloring book. She notices Juno watching her and asks him if he wants to color with her. He nods and grabs a green crayon, scribbling away at another page.

I look at Eric and we share a satisfied smile, both clearing thinking "that's my sweet girl".

"This isn't over." Sunwoo interrupts the moment. "That's my kid. Not Eric's. I'm not finished with you three."

"Should I call the police to make you leave, Sunwoo? Go tell your wife that you'll see her at home. I'll drive your family back to your place after the party. Then get the hell out, like I've told you multiple times now. You are no longer welcome in my house. Ever again, in fact."

Sunwoo scoffs and mumbles something under his breath, but he complies.

I can see the confusion in his wife's face as he informs her of the situation.

He sends me a quick wink before he shuts the front door behind him, sending a sick feeling to my stomach and a chill down my spine.

"Eric, what if he-"

"Don't worry. I'll take care of everything. Let's enjoy the party for now, don't worry about it. I have a plan."

[nah-she-didnt]

Hey! From the prompt list, Jily - “I am here to grace you with my presence.”

Heya, thanks for the prompt!! Sorry if this is riddled with typos, it’s been a long day and i might be slightly high

Send me prompts here!

--

James paused his work to wipe a trickle of sweat from his forehead and roll up his sleeves. His back ached from exertion after nearly ninety minutes of hard labor. It was stupid, really, that he was here at all. If Sirius hadn’t been late to hand off the cloak last night during preparations for their latest prank, McGonagall would have never found him standing in the third floor corridor holding a bag of bowtruckles in one hand and bucket of magical Stick-O’-Lot glue from Zonko’s in the other. 

James sighed and sat back on the balls of his feet to examine his progress. He’d only managed to polish half the surfaces in the trophy room. He stretched and cursed Sirius again. A hundred tiny cracks ran down his spine as he moved. 

“Working hard I see.” 

James jumped in surprise. Lily leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, and a bemused look on her face. “I didn’t even think Head Boys could get detention,” she said teasingly. 

James grinned and got to his feet, wiping his polish-covered hands on a rag. “What are you doing here? Slumming it with the rule breaker?” 

Lily beamed at him. “I’m here to grace you with my presence!” 

“Yeah?” he growled, approaching her slowly, “I can think something better we could be doing.” 

Lily pulled a face as he approached. “Absolutely not, grimy boy! You better scourgify those hands if you want to touch me.” 

James stopped and raised his eyebrows at her. “And if I don’t?” 

Lily laughed, holding her hands out placatingly, “James, no, this is my last clean button-up.” 

James lunged. Lily shrieked with laughter as she darted out the door. He followed her, managing to catch her a little ways down the hallway. He pressed her against the corridor wall and lifted his hand so that it hovered above her face, his fingers inches from her forehead. “Any last words?” 

Lily tried to speak but she was laughing too hard. “Have mercy! Mercy!” 

James dropped his hand. “Well, if you insist,” he whispered, then kissed her fiercely. 

They had only been dating for a few weeks but James was sure he’d never get used to her soft lips on his. She caught his bottom lift between her own and sucked lightly. He groaned, lifting a hand to grip her waist. He felt her loop a finger through his belt loop and pull him closer, pressing her hips into his. She would have to forgive him later for getting her shirt dirty after all. 

Suddenly, James heard a scream behind him. 

“Impedimenta!”

He felt as if he’d been hit with an enormous gust of wind. He flew through the air and slammed against the far wall, sliding to the flood with a dull thud.

“What the hell!” James heard Lily shout in a panicked voice. 

“I heard you,” Snape panted, though James could tell he was starting to realize that he had misread the situation. “I heard you telling him to stop, heard you beg for mercy.” 

“It was a laugh, you arsehole!” she spat at Snape. She hurried over to James to help him stand but he waved her off. 

“I’m alright,” he mumbled, eyes narrowed at Snape. “No thanks to you, Snivellus.” 

Snape raised his wand again and pointed it right between James’ eyes. “I’m sure you deserved it.” 

Lily stepped between the boys, looking murderous. “Leave. Now.” 

Snape faltered at her expression. “But, I thought,” 

“I know what you thought,” her voice quivered from anger, “stop trying to save me, Snape. If you haven’t noticed I’m doing just fine without you. Better, actually.” 

James nearly felt bad for Snape at this. His eyes grew wide with shock, and James sense real pain beneath his expression. Then, perhaps realizing how pathetic he looked, he quickly composed himself again into a sickening snear. 

“Of course,” he oozed, “you’ve got the quidditch hero of Gryffindor tower now, what would you need your friends for?” 

“I’m quite capable of telling you to fuck off myself, thanks.” And with that, Lily grabbed James’ hand and marched them back into the trophy room. Snape stood rooted to the spot and watched them go. He didn’t like the murderous look on Snape’s face. 

When they were both inside Lily slammed the door so loudly that several trophies wobbled in their display cases. 

Lily looked wild with fury. “What a prick,” she ranted, wringing her hands as if to expel excess energy, “I can’t believe I was ever friends with him.” 

James, unsure of what to say, just watched her pace back and forth. He’d always hated Snape, but it felt tactless to bring that up now. 

“What does he think? That he can just follow me around the castle and be my knight in shining armour? Maybe he should start with his own friends, they’re the ones who try to attack us.” He knew that by “us” Lily meant all muggleborns. 

“I’d like to see them try,” he muttered, flexing his wand hand at the thought. 

She whirled around to face him. “Don’t you start!”

“Me?” he yelped, throwing his hands in front of himself in submission, “what did I do?” 

“I don’t need you to protect me, I can fight my own battles,” she huffed, angrily pushing aside a strand of hair that fell into her face. 

James threw his arms up in frustration. “Well, shit, Evans, I know you don’t need me around. I’ve always known that. I’m just saying that I have your back, alright?” 

They faced each other for a few seconds, chests heaving and glaring at each other. Then Lily seemed to crumple. 

“Of course I do,” she said miserably, staring at the floor, “I want to have your back too.” 

James strode over to her and wrapped her in a hug. “I know that.” 

Lily shook her head against his chest. “He always wanted to protect me. He didn’t think I was strong enough on my own. Guess it made me a little sensitive.” 

James laughed and hugged her tighter. “Sensitive? You? Never.” 

She poked him playfully in the ribs, then wrapped her arms around him too. They stood like that for a long while, just holding each other in the dying firelight. Finally, James pulled back and placed a kiss on the top of her head. 

“As much as I enjoy your company this over my detention, you should probably go. I’ve got to finish this before sunrise.” 

Lily nodded and let her arms fall from his waist. She gave him a small smile then walked towards the door to the trophy room.

“You know,” she called over he shoulder, “you still owe me a clean shirt.” 

James saluted her. “Aye aye, captain.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Why do I date you again?” 

“My irresistible charm?” 

“That must be it.”

[mcrninqstar]

discord: it’s you. it’s always been you.

SUMMARY: Lucifer accidently sends Maze the wrong text leading her to believe her best friend is dead. He goes to her to clarify and they end up revealing more to each other than they anticipated.  TRIGGERS: Death Mentions, Daddy Issues, Mommy Issues WRITTEN WITH: @mazikeenofmurders

MAZIKEEN: She'd been in Hell, torturing Will when she got the update from Lucifer. Charlie's dead now. She'd seen a lot of people die in her lifetime. Most of the time it didn't bother her, but Charlie was her best friend. It was heartbreaking. Her chest felt restricted, and her eyes filled with tears. She wiped them away before anyone could see them. If Charlie had ended up in Hell, Maze should've been told, but no one came while she let out her anger on Will, which meant that she'd gone to heaven and that Maze wouldn't be able to see her again. She let Belphegor continue torturing Will on their own while she went back to her own place in Hell. She didn't tell Belphegor the news yet. They'd need to figure out how to break that down to them. They were already upset enough that she'd been hurt. Maze had diverted their sadness to anger, but handling her death would be harder. Maze remained stoic until she got home and saw a picture of Charlie, Lucifer, and herself in a frame on one of the walls. She picked it up and broke down into tears, clutching it to her chest as she laid down on her bed. Now she'd really never get Charlie to sleep with her and Lucifer. That made her cry more.

LUCIFER: "Well, that was bloody awful," Lucifer lamented as he appeared in Maze's home. He needed someone to complain to about this. He'd already tried calling Linda a couple times but she declined the calls on account that it was close to 2am now. "Maze?" he called out to her. She wasn't in the living room, but he could feel her presence about. He figured she must've gone to bed. Surely she wouldn't mind being woken up to some good news. Lucifer helped himself to the bar, pouring two glasses of champagne and placing them on a tray. He carried them into Maze's room like some sort of fancy butler. He expected to find her maybe in some sexy little number or maybe nothing at all. But what he hadn't expected was to find her crying. "Mazikeen..." he lowered the tray onto the nightstand beside her. "Why are you crying? I thought you'd be over the moon, honestly..." Becoming Death was one hell of a promotion, especially for a human reaper. Charlie had essentially ascended to an angelic form of being. It was unheard of for humans to do that. It was historic and spicy and no doubt causing Uriel to panic a little. Lucifer very much liked that idea. But Maze...he'd never seen her like this.

MAZIKEEN: She heard it distantly when someone came into her home. Sometimes the other demons tried to sneak into her place to fight her when she was off guard. She was never really off guard, but she could recognize Lucifer's presence. Archangels like him radiated power that was unmistakable, especially him. She didn't move when he called her name. She didn't want him to see her crying like this, but she couldn't stop. It hurt too much. Charlie had been too important to her. "I'm not crying," she insisted, even as her voice cracked and tears spilled down her face. The picture frame she'd been clutching left imprints on her arms as she sat up. She sniffled as she wiped at her face, but more tears kept coming. She looked at Lucifer with confusion. "Why would I be over the moon about this?" she asked. Why was he? What was good about any of this? "She's gone, Lucifer." She took in a breath trying to push back the tears, but it just distorted her face. Admitting that she was gone was hard. It was possibly one of the hardest things she ever had to do, and she dealt with Cuphegor all the time.

LUCIFER: "Right, of course," he nodded and sat down at her bed side. She was too crying but he wasn't going to call her out on it. He simply pulled out the handkerchief from his pocket square and held it out to her. He had no idea what brought this on. Maze normally loved when he sent people out to be tortured by her specifically. William especially had been a thorn at her side. What he'd done now warranted permanent death so naturally he figured Maze would be happy about that but she wasn't. She was crying about someone being gone. It didn't take long to realize she was talking about Charlie. "She's not gone," he replied, placing his hands on either side of her and rubbing down the length of her arms in a reassuring manner. "I mean, I don't really know where she's at right now specifically. She's kind of hiccupping in and out of afterlives and I'm not allowed entry into some of them because of politics. But she's very much alive...unalive...sort of dead?" he sighed trying to figure out how to explain it. "She's Death now." He didn't see what was so bad about that. Maybe it was because Maze couldn't hug her? "I mean, sure, it would be ill advised to touch her at the moment but you'll be able to give her a hug when she reigns her powers in a bit. Raphael said they'd help."

MAZIKEEN: She took the handkerchief he offered her and wiped the tears off her face, still not admitting that they were tears, not that he was insisting they were or anything. He hadn't argued her lie, and she appreciated it. She leaned against him as he rubbed her arms.  She thought he was giving her some spiel about how their afterlives didn't really mean they were gone or something. That wouldn't have made a difference to Mazikeen if she couldn't see Charlie herself, but that wasn't what he was talking about. She wasn't sure what he was talking about actually. "What do you mean she's alive? You texted me and told me she was dead." Her voice was raising angrily. She'd been so upset. "You made me think my best friend died!" She hit him in the chest as she spoke. "I was crying because I thought I lost her!" She spoke with a mixture of shouting and sobbing.

LUCIFER: "What do you mean? No I didn't," he defended as she shouted that he sent her a text saying Charlie was dead. He pulled out his phone to try to get a look at what he said but she started smacking him. He swatted her away briefly to take a peak and sure enough...he grimaced. Bloody autocorrect. "That was meant to say she's Death, not she's dead," he corrected, not that it mattered in hindsight. "I wouldn't break that kind of news to you over a text message, Maze," he tried to assure her calmly. "That's Levi levels of avoidance. I'd send a carrier pigeon at least." Perhaps it wasn't the best time for jokes but that was really the only way he knew how to work through the kind of day he had. It wasn't exactly easy having to run a death scythe into an old friend and hope for the best.

MAZIKEEN: "Yes, you did!" she snapped. She'd read over the text several times just to make sure she'd read it right because that news was so serious. It didn't make a difference to her now that it was a typo. If anything, she was more furious that he hadn't noticed the typo before he'd sent it, or even that he didn't see that it had changed once he had sent it. He could've corrected it immediately and saved her the heartbreak of thinking she'd lost her friend. "A carrier pigeon?!" she repeated angrily, not finding his jokes as funny as he did in the moment when she was still reeling from thinking her friend had died. She started hitting him. "You're so stupid! I can't believe I fell in love with you, you asshole! Who jokes about that?!"

LUCIFER: "In my defense a lot was going on," he lamented, still wanting to complain about the situation. "I wasn't exactly sipping Bacardi with Raphael up there." He might've put too much faith in his phone to get the message across. "I knew you were worried about Charlie's condition and I wanted to get the news to her ASAP. I had a million and one things I needed to do to secure the veil after everything happened and I wouldn't have had time to come down to hell until well...now. I didn't think it was fair for you to wait that long." He was trying to ease her nerves but thanks to his phone he'd done the opposite. He grimaced as soon as the pigeon joke left his lips and braced himself for another round of smacking. It didn't hurt and he let her carry on. It was best to just let Maze air out her frustrations rather than let them fester. He expected her to insult him. That was par for the course. But he hadn't expected her to say the other thing. He sat up a little straighter and held her firmly so that she would stop hitting him and look at him instead. "You don't...you can't...you don't mean that, do you?" he asked her in all seriousness.

MAZIKEEN: Realistically, she couldn't blame him too much for what had happened. All in all, it was a simple mistake, and anger was the main way she knew to release her emotions. She knew Lucifer  knew that, and there were ways she could make it up to him later when she wasn't emotional. She sighed. "I guess I do appreciate you trying to tell me as soon as possible, even if you did fuck it up." She really did appreciate that, considering how worried she'd been about Charlie. "So I really can't hug her though?" She was one of the people Maze actually liked to hug. Lucifer was also one of them, but him grabbing her took her by surprise. He probably just was getting annoyed with her constantly hitting him, but most of her anger had gotten out now. She sighed. "You are kinda an asshole sometimes, but I like it most of the time."

LUCIFER: "Well, someone will suffer for the ill conceived attempts of autocorrect," he assured her. It wasn't going to be him, but someone would. Surely there was probably a demon to blame for this. "Probably Sam," he offered, hoping that would lift her spirits some with another soul to torture. "Charlie managed to separate him and his evil twin. She dragged the parasitic one here. Not sure which kingdom but when we find him, he's all yours," he replied, still running his hand up and down her arm in a comforting gesture. "No, I'm afraid you can't hug her for now. She's deadly to everything except the Archangels now." Although Charlie was young by comparison, her ranking was up there with Cupid now that she was Death. Love and Death were fundamental forces in the balance of things. "But I'll give her extra hugs on your behalf," he replied. He didn't mind it one bit. Having to stab Charlie wasn't exactly pleasant and he wanted to ensure she was okay every step of the way. His features softened and his grip lightened when she remarked he was an asshole sometimes, but she enjoyed that about him. "That's not what I meant...I meant the other thing you said. The one about falling in love with me..." he clarified so that neither of them could be mistaken this time. "You don't mean that, do you?"

MAZIKEEN: "As they should." She nodded in agreement. She smiled brightly when Lucifer suggested that it would probably be Sam. She'd always wanted to torture him. "Is it my birthday again already?" she asked jokingly. She was a little disappointed that it wasn't both Sams that ended up in Hell, but she guessed that it was good for Charlie's happiness or something. "That's pretty hot," she remarked with a smirk. "It makes me want to try it anyway. I'll tell you what it feels like." She grinned. Lucifer couldn't have all the fun in being the only one of them to be able to hug Charlie. Her smile faltered when he clarified what he'd heard her say. "Ah," so she had actually said that then? She'd thought that part was just in her head, but it was hard to keep a cap on her thoughts when she was that upset. Her chest clenched up. She was trying to gauge his reaction to that before she said anything else, but it was hard to tell how he was feeling about it. The most she could tell was that he was uncertain, but she couldn't decipher if that uncertainty came from disgust at the idea, if he wanted it like she did, if his trauma from the curse just had him scared to trust it, or a combination of a few of those. She sat up straighter, holding herself higher to make sure this confession didn't make her look weaker in any way. If he didn't like it then fuck him anyways. "I do. I've been in love with you for a while now." She let out a breath of air. That was a weird thing she never really thought she'd let out, but it was out there now. She watched Lucifer carefully for his reaction, prepared to backtrack or defend herself if she needed to.

LUCIFER: He was glad to see her smile after the particularly awful news she thought he'd delivered. He knew he'd be paying for that for the next few weeks but for now at least the storm had passed and she knew Charlie was safe. "If your birthday occurred anytime that man nearly dies, you'd be aging at twice the rate," he pointed out. He really did feel for the Winchester's Guardian. That angel had to be doing overtime on most days. "Wear protection," he teased. "Safe hugging to prevent untimely death." Maze wore enough latex that it really shouldn't be a problem. Charlie was careful too. Lucifer had instructed her to go to Val in the meantime for pointers and perhaps a pair of sturdier gloves.

He swallowed back a bit of initial panic when she confirmed that he'd heard her correctly. His automatic thoughts and fears were that his curse was back. Why else would anyone love him? He projected outward confidence because he had to. It was expected of him as King of Hell to know what to do, or at least to look like he knew what he was doing. Maze knew better than most Lucifer had no idea what he was doing. He was a mess just trying his best. Truthfully, the curses had set him back quite a bit. He still struggled, wondering if any of the relationships and connections he'd made in his life were real. Chloe had left him long before the curse was broken and he couldn't blame her. But Maze stuck around. She'd been there before he discovered his curse and she was still there afterward. She'd been there through all of his milestone and all the trials life could've thrown his way. He couldn't have imagined doing any of this without her. In fact, he was certain he couldn't have done it without her. The duties of keeping Hell running and keeping his siblings both happy and alive stretched him thin. He needed a partner and Maze was the best one he could've ever asked for.

If she really did love him, then this was a blessing because as much as the feeling scared him, he loved her too. He hadn't realized how much she did for him until she'd disappeared to the other timeline. He'd been a mess then and so had hell. Since then, he tried to show her that he appreciated her more and more. He tried to do what he could to spend time with her because he didn't know how much time they had left. He realized some time ago if the void was going to take over, she'd be the person he'd want to be with in the end. He thought those feelings were just friendship, but he knew deep down it went deeper than that.

"Okay...." he took a deep breath. "Okay..." he ran his hands up and down her arms as a soothing gesture. "Mazikeen, you are one of the most important people to me. You're the first person I check in with in the mornings and the last one I see before I go to bed. You're..." You're the one person I can see myself spending an eternity with. Just say it Lucifer. Come on. "The last time I felt like this about someone, it turned out to not be real. How do we know any of this is real?" he questioned. It was an unfair question to place on her but he wanted to be upfront with his fears. He'd known Chloe for all of 4 years when she left. And her leaving left a hole in his belief in love. He'd known Maze for much longer. If this turned out to be a curse and if she left too...he wasn't sure where that would leave either of them.

MAZIKEEN: She laughed a little at his comment about Sam's deaths. "Even better. Maybe I can catch up to you, old man." It wasn't like they really aged anyways. Birthdays were an arbitrary thing they made up just for an excuse to celebrate. They were all too old to actually keep up with their ages, and even if they did, it just made them look so much better despite their ages. "Don't worry. My strap-on has a condom and everything." She grinned. She'd be careful enough, but the thought that her best friend could kill her with just a single touch was exciting and she wanted to see what it felt like. Hopefully, she wouldn't kill herself completely in the process. She wasn't actually suicidal like some people.

Her chest ached seeing that look on his face. As a demon, she considered it a skill of hers that she could recognize the fear in her victims, but Lucifer wasn't a victim. He was her closest friend and the person she was in love with. She usually knew him better than she knew herself most of the time, but she couldn't tell where that panic came from in the moment. Was he as scared of rejecting her as she was of being rejected? Or was he just as scared of allowing himself to love as she was. She knew that with his curse, he'd been hesitant of his relationships, romantic or otherwise. It was part of the reason she'd been so hesitant herself recently about talking about it (though it was mainly because of her own fear). The way he held onto her arms, rubbing them to reassure her, convinced her that this was a rejection, so she prepared herself for it.

She had to admit, he was setting up the rejection nicely. She imagined that he was going the route of asking if they could still be friends so they could still do all of those things. The last time I felt like this about someone... So he did feel the same way about her then, and his panic was about the curse. Even so, the doubt of whether this was real or not hurt. She knew his curse was broken. Cupid had confirmed that. Maze wasn't particularly great at dealing with her emotions, so the pain she felt at his doubt turned to anger. It wasn't rational anger, considering how valid his doubts were, but she was angry nevertheless. How dare he doubt her love?!

"I'm not Chloe," she snapped. "What, do you think that just because I was with her when Cupid broke your connection that it somehow transferred from her into me? Well, it didn't because I've been in love with you for a lot longer than that. I didn't fall in love with you because of a curse. I fell in love with you because unlike everyone else you were always there with me and for me from the day I met you. It wasn't some immediate infatuation. I don't do the love at first sight thing." She barely considered the love thing until she realized it was actually a possibility. "I don't just have the feeling that I love you. I know I love you because I consider the day you picked me to be your right hand one of the best moments of my life, and maybe kicking Azazel's ass made that day better too, but that's not the important part. You are. I like working for you. I like your dirty jokes because I have the same sense of humor. And your corny jokes are awful,  but occasionally I'll find myself making them too." She sounded annoyed as she said all of this, only angry that he didn't see it. She shouldn't have been surprised though considering that seemed to run in his family. "I know a lot of people think it's a little extra the way you will do whole musical numbers. I agree, but I fucking love it!"

He looked like he was about to say something, but she cut him off. "I'm not done yet! You wanted to know how I know that this is real, so you're going to hear it all! When I was younger, and practically everyone was doubting me for being your right hand, you didn't. You never doubted my capability to kick their asses and make them shut the fuck up. I fucking love the fact that even though you're an archangel, you trust me to handle myself and fight my own battles. I'd be pissed if you tried to, but I never had to worry about that with you. I never have to worry about most things with you because I trust you. Hell, even your problems I don't mind dealing with. You self-sabotage constantly, and so do I. You've got the the world's biggest daddy issues, and I've got the world's worst mommy issues. But we know how to deal with each other's issues. The drama in your family is exponential, but I don't ever want to stop dealing with it. It's honestly really entertaining, and don't you dare fucking tell them this, or anyone for that matter, but I started to care for them too. Some of them anyways. Just a tiny barely noticeable amount." She probably shouldn't have said that, but she kept going.

"When we came up here together at first and Chloe made you vulnerable, you have no idea how terrified I was. I am your right hand and your bodyguard. I don't usually have to protect you from much because you're an archangel, but there you were getting injured constantly just because you kept going near the thing that was making you vulnerable. I was honestly glad that it was a curse just because it meant that you could be safe again." Sure there were other things that could hurt him but not many. "I was just glad that I didn't have to worry about losing you."

She continued to list off more and more reasons to prove how she knew her love was her own and not from some curse. It spanned from centuries in the past all the way to the present, including the smallest details like the way he laughed when he was scared or  the way his hair looked after sex to more major details and events like the fact that she saw him when she looked at Asmodeus or how jealous she felt when she saw the other universe's Maze seeming to have everything with her Lucifer and how glad she was to come home to her own. It took her hours to get through everything, and it was well into the morning now. "And if that's not enough to convince you that this is real, I don't know what is," she huffed. "Cupid's been trying to get me to tell you for ages now, and she wouldn't do that if she had any doubts about my feelings for you being a curse. She might be a pain in the ass half the time, but I know you at least can count on her being genuine about love."

LUCIFER: "At the rate he dies, you'll likely catch up to Aamon or Michael at this point," he joked although he really hoped Sam would slow down a little for Charlie's sake. He chuckled when she replied that her strap-on had a condom. "A paragon of safe sex. I expect no less. I'm sure Charlie will appreciate the sentiment." If anything, Charlie would at least appreciate the jokes and the company. It had been a rough few hours for her. Those hours spanned days in hell. Days that Maze must've spent feeling anxious about her friend's wellbeing. No wonder she'd reacted so poorly to his faux pas.

He was hoping to make it up to her, but it was clear his hesitation was contributing to her anxiety. Being a demon from Aamon's kingdom, that anxiety naturally expressed itself with rage. He flinched as she snapped at him. He swallowed hard when she replied that she'd been in love with him for a lot longer than he'd been cursed. Maybe they'd looked at the curse all wrong then. Maybe it was there from the beginning. Maybe Chloe wasn't the original victim, but rather Mazikeen. The thought of that ached and hurt more than anything. She was his best advisor and his closest friend. The thought of their closeness potentially being driven by a curse was a hurt that threatened to tear his chest open, but continued to listen. It was best not to interrupt her when she was in one of these passionate rages.

His features softened and his panic started to drop off slightly as she started listing tangible things she liked about him. Love curses couldn't go that deep, could they? Cupid had told him even the strongest curses can only mimic a base and superficial love. What Maze was describing didn't feel superficial. She'd also said that real love felt different. It made you feel complete even when you felt like you were falling apart. Maze made him feel that way. She understood him in ways even those around him didn't seem to get.

She didn't try to change him or insist that he be someone else, someone more mature or someone she felt he needed to be in certain situations. She trusted his judgement even when he didn't trust himself necessarily. Apparently not everyone was the same way though. There were people out there that didn't like his musical numbers? He was about to open his mouth to retort, but she cut him off. He closed his mouth and patiently waited as she continued, a smile growing on his face.

Just as he'd been reminiscing about how she never doubted his abilities, it was clear she felt the same way about him never doubting her. He always knew that she was capable. His siblings might have been more powerful than her, but they always knew that Maze was an extension of Lucifer. She wasn't a subordinate, she was family to them. And it was clear Maze felt that they were her family too. That made Lucifer brighten considerably. He knew Maze didn't have a good relationship with her family and sometimes his own relationship with his family was rocky too. But she found her place among them and that was important to him.

She was as afraid of losing him as he was of losing her which was both terrifying and a relief. When she was off in the other timeline, he'd been a mess just thinking about it. It wasn't just the daunting task of finding another right hand if she never came back. It was the inexplicable pain of losing someone whom you couldn't imagine your life without. There was no one in this world or the next that could replace Maze.

"Mazikeen," he cupped her face as she finished, letting her take a few deep breaths to calm down. She looked like she needed a drink too. "I believe you," his voice was soft and gentle as he spoke. The previous panic that it carried was now gone. He really did believe her. He knew Maze well enough to know cursed or not, love was the last thing she wanted to admit to. It took guts to get this far and now it was time for him to show the same kind of bravery. "And I love you too," he smiled. "You make me a better person without trying to change a single thing about me. You listen to my fears and insecurities and you don't let them be the only voice inside my head. When shit hits the fan you are the only person I know I can count on. It's always been you," he replied as he leaned in and kissed her gently. "It's always going to be you."

MAZIKEEN: "He's really got issues if he's going that far." Maze could see the appeal of getting close to death. She liked pushing things that far all the time. Having sex with archangels who could easily end your existence provided a similar thrill, but Maze didn't actually want to die. "Yeah," Maze agreed. "Hopefully becoming death doesn't autocorrect her sense of humor." She was joking just to pick on Lucifer's mistake, but she was a little worried about how this change would affect Charlie. She didn't know everything about what becoming death entailed. She had always been closer to Charlie than Azrael, and Azrael wasn't very social. She hadn't talked much about what being Death was like either. Maze didn't know how much she could help Charlie, or how much any of them could.

She looked at Lucifer angrily as he cupped her face, waiting for him to make fun of her or say that her explanations weren't enough to prove that this was real even though she knew it was. Her expression softened when he said he believed her. "You do?" She asked, relaxing into him now. He'd gone through so much lately that she really didn't expect him to take her at her word. "You do?" She asked again as he told her he loved her too. She felt warmer, and she was smiling brightly. She didn't think she'd been in love before him, and just getting that confirmation was such a relief. She felt lighter and happier. She looked at him in awe as he explained just what made him love her too. "I don't need to change anything about you," she said in defense of him, but she couldn't counter the rest of it. She deepened the kiss. Her hands moved into his hair, pulling on some of the strands, but this kiss was different than their usual make-out sessions. It wasn't just from lust, though she was feeling hornier now. Adding an emotional extension to kissing someone was . . . Interesting to say the least. She might've loved him before, but loving him and knowing he loved her had the most thrill she'd ever known. Cupid could never be told that. She'd never hear the end of how right Cupid was, but this was something Mazikeen had needed to do on her own anyways. Maze smirked as they pulled out of the kiss. "If it's always going to be me, do we need to discuss anything else, or are you going to get me out of these clothes?"

LUCIFER: "There's minor death kinks and then there's whatever Sam's got," he chuckled. He would pass off Linda's number to Sam and maybe even introduce them. She'd get a kick out of an interdimensional client and Sam could really use the help after all of this. He groaned at the joke Maze made about Charlie's humor getting autocorrected. If course she wasn't going to let him live it down. Despite her ribbing at him, he knew there was some truth hidden in her jokes. She was afraid that this whole transition to becoming Death would change Charlie. "She's a little overwhelmed right now, but still Charlie. It's like the second Frozen movie where Elsa transitions into the fifth natural force," he giggled to himself. "You know, that sort of makes you Anna. I've seen dark before..." he sang through his giggles, ducking away before she could smack him.

"I do," he nodded. "It doesn't mean I'm any less scared about it or that I even know what I'm doing, but I believe you and I love you," he assured her. Admitting it out loud again felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulder. The more times he said it out loud, the more sure of himself he felt. He did love her. This wasn't the curse talking, this was him. He smiled when she replied that she didn't need to change him. He'd gone a good portion of his life thinking there was something wrong with him. He didn't fit the mold his Father intended for him. He never accepted him for who he was and simply wanted to beat him down until he was a perfect soldier like Michael. But Maze never tried to change him. She never made him feel like he was built wrong or that he was too soft, too hard, or too much for the role placed on his shoulders.

As she deepened the kiss, he pressed her against the wall, wanting to feel every inch of her. Having aired out how he felt, and having her accept it and feel the same was exhilarating and quite frankly more of a turn on than anything else he'd ever experienced before. He could hardly focus as she pulled away. "Well," he smirked, trailing kisses down her neck as his hands explored her body. "I do have some making up to do for my previous faux pas." He gripped her tightly and picked her up before plopping her down onto the bed. "You know what they say, no time line the present," he smirked, dipping down to kiss her again.

[hawkbucks]

Through The Years (a.k.a the fic I’m surprised I finished) Wordcount: 11014 Relationships: Natasha & Tony, Natasha/Pepper, Tony/Bucky A/N: C*v*l W*r simply does not exist. Originally posted to my original blog. Inspired by an anon who I hope can see this again someday. 

Barely beta’d and beta’d barely. Please let me know of any typos.  Summary: Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

Tony is 8 and Natasha is 12 when Tony brings Natasha home for the first time.

“Mamma!” he brightly exclaims as soon as Maria opens the door, holding up one of his hands that is intertwined with one of Natasha’s. “This is Natasha! She helped me while I was walkin’ home from school today.” Before Maria can say anything, Tony is already rushing past her, dragging his newfound friend into the living room with him. He leads her to the rather lavish, cream-colored couch that’s bigger than necessary and tells her to sit down, letting go of her hand.

“Some’a the kids at school were followin’ me and sayin’ bad things to me,” Tony starts to explain as he takes off his patent leather shoes, remembering what his mother said about tracking dirt into the house. “But Natasha made ‘em go away. Then she said she’d keep walkin’ with me so that I’d get home all safe. She was really awesome!”

Natasha’s pale cheeks flush, almost as if she’s embarrassed about the praise Tony is singing about her. She quietly takes off her own battered and beaten shoes, a neon blue bandaid sitting right above her left ankle. With her wild red hair and skinny arms, it’s hard to think of her as someone who would be able to shoo away a group of rowdy 8-year-olds.

Tony finally joins her on the couch, sighing as he sinks into the cushions. “Mamma, I think Natasha should be my sister,” he says with a decisive nod. “I like her. She can have the room nex’ to mine and everything!”

Maria’s head still feels like it’s spinning from Tony’s explanation of what happened, so she settles for a smile as she walks over after locking the door. “It is good that Natasha helped you, ‘Tonio.” She rests a caring hand on Tony’s cheek, and he leans into it with childish affection. “I have no doubt that she would make a good sister–” she glances at Natasha, whose flush seems to have gotten even deeper– “but she probably has a family of her own, bambino. You bringing her here… what if her parents are worried?” she gently scolds.

Tony’s eyebrows furrow as guilt spreads across his features. “Oh.” That’s all he says.

Before Maria can offer any soothing words, Natasha speaks up. It’s so soft that Maria has to strain her ears to hear her: “I don’t have any parents.” Both Maria and Tony turn to look at her, but she keeps her gaze on a spot on the carpet a few inches to the right of the coffee table in front of her. “No family. Well, I live with an aunt, but…” Natasha bites her bottom lip. “She’s not very nice.”

Maria’s heart clenches at how raw the girl looks like right now. Her eyes hold a deep sadness that she is far too young to be harboring.

Tony doesn’t even think before he wraps his arms around Natasha’s shoulders, a soft distressed noise leaving his throat. He continues to hug her until Natasha pushes him away, the beginnings of a smile on her face.

And yet, Maria notices, the smile does not reach her eyes.

(Howard snorts, gesturing vaguely with a crystal tumbler in his hand. “Another child? Anthony is already a handful, and you want to bring in another child?”

Maria’s jaw sets, eyes alight with a determined flame. “I am not asking that we adopt her, Howard–not yet. I am asking that we at least give her a place to stay.” She shakes her head, thinking back to the scene on the couch earlier. “I would not feel comfortable sending her back to her aunt. She almost cried, Howard. At the very least, she should be able to sleep without being scared!”

It isn’t until Howard looks at her, eyebrows raised, that Maria realizes how passionate she sounded. “Whatever,” he mutters. “Just know that she is your responsibility.”)

Tony is 10 and Natasha is 14 when the papers go through and Natasha goes from being a Romanoff to a Stark. It’s kept quiet from the press, thanks to Howard’s exorbitant amounts of money.

Maria hugs her, warm and motherly. Tony excitedly latches onto her side, talking her ear off about all the cool things they can do now that they’re brother and sister. Hell, even Howard begrudgingly says something about how she does seem like a nice girl.

All of that, of course, makes it harder for Natasha to tell them the truth: she’s a spy. And an assassin. Or at least she was. She blurts it out the second they step foot back into the house. It’s better they know now, she thinks, instead of years down the line. She would never do anything to hurt them–never–but they deserve to know. If it results in her being kicked out, well… the past 2 years have been the best of her life.

Maria, at first, is horrified. She immediately ushers Tony away while he’s still too shocked to protest (To protect him, Natasha realizes, from her. Just in case). Natasha braces herself, ready for Maria to yell and scream at her, but all she does is sigh heavily, eyes turning downcast. “You are so young,” she says, sounding pained, “and you do all that?”

Natasha inhales, eyes flickering between Maria and Howard. “I used to. The organization–the place I worked for, I ran away.” She waits for any interjection, any sign that she’s not welcome in the house anymore–not welcome around Tony–but none comes. So she continues. “I guess they never caught up. I lied by omission, I guess. Doesn’t make it any better, but I figured I should tell you guys now.” More silence. “And, just so you know, I wouldn’t have hurt any of you.”

Surprisingly, it’s Howard that speaks up next. “Why don’t you work for S.H.I.E.L.D?” he offers.

“Howard!” Maria gasps, scandalized. “She just got out of that life and you–and you want to put her back in it? And she’s so young–”

“S.H.I.E.L.D is a hell of a lot safer a bet than whatever hack job organization she was running with originally! They must not be that good if they can lose a child,” he shoots back. “Protection–we can protect her there. She can help this country, atone for her past!”  

Maria’s face is openly appalled. “She is 14–”

“I’ll do it,” Natasha interjects, jaw set in determination when Maria and Howard–mom and dad, she corrects–look at her. “I’m proficient in over 7 different styles of martial arts, along with receiving specialized marksman training. My entire life, I grew up immersed in the arts of espionage.” She squares her shoulders, like she senses a challenge. “I can do it.”

(“You’re an assassin. Does that mean you’ve killed people, Nat?” Tony asks, innocently enough, as he scribbles down measurements and observations about a weapon he’s taken apart to study.

An ugly sound tears itself from Natasha’s throat, somewhere between a snarl and a growl. “Don’t ask that question, Tony.”

Tony flinches. “Sorry. Sorry, I won’t–sorry.” He bites his bottom lip, worrying the already fragile skin there.)

Tony is 14 and Natasha is 18 when Tony gets accepted to M.I.T.

Natasha insists on accompanying him under the alias of “Natalie Rushman.” They fudge her papers, place her in classes that’s she’s never going to have to attend, and put her up in an apartment off campus. Howard asks about what’s going to happen should they need her at S.H.I.E.L.D. She says they should be fine, but if it’s truly an emergency, then they can call.

She hangs out around Tony, saying that she’s his old tutor who was positively ecstatic when she found out that Tony would be attending the same college that she does and decided to take him under her wing the second he stepped on campus.

Tony resists at first, saying that it feels too much like she’s babysitting him. “I’m not 8 anymore, Nat,” he grumbles as he spins around in one of the spinny-chairs he has in his dorm. “You don’t need to protect me everywhere I go.”

Then a few days later, because the universe likes laughing at him, a bigger, older student tries to pick a fight with him. They taunt him, saying that he only got into M.I.T because of daddy’s name and daddy’s money. He can barely hear over the blood rushing in his ears; all of the shit he’s been through, all of his hard work, and there are still people out there who only see him as Howard’s brat, Howard’s son who relies on dad to do everything for him.

He turns around to shout something back, something even more inciting, but Natasha’s already there–and she has the bully on their knees, twisting their arm around their back. “That’s not very nice,” he hears Natasha whisper, venom dripping from every word. “I know you were trying to invoke him. Trying to get him to swing at you so you have an excuse. That’s pathetic.” She lets them go and they fall face-first onto the ground, a puff of dirt billowing up. Some students stop to watch. A couple have their phones out.

“Go,” she says coldly, stepping over their body. “Don’t let me see you around him again.”

Tony whistles as they get up and scurry away, not daring to look back. “I take back what I said,” he says, shoving both of his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I guess it’s good to have you around.”

She gets him into a headlock and ruffles his hair.

Tony is still 14 and Natasha is still 18 when she meets Rhodey, Tony’s roommate and future best-friend-for-life for the first time.

He’s nice, she determines when Rhodey greets her with a genuine smile and a firm handshake. “I’m glad there’s someone else looking out for Tony. It feels like a full-time job sometimes,” she says, placing a hand on Tony’s shoulder.

Tony shrugs her hand off, pouting petulantly. “I’m not that bad.”

Rhodey laughs again. “Tones, you wrote an angrily-worded letter to a teacher after you said they, and I quote, ‘explained thermonuclear dynamics like a drunk orangutan.’”

“Because they did!”

Tony is 15 and Natasha is 19 when they decide to tell Rhodey the truth.

“It’s only fair that you know, man.” Tony continues fiddling with his seat, making himself go up and down and up and down. “You’re gonna have to sign some NDAs and stuff, but yeah. Technically Natalie is my sister. And she’s the best spy in the business.” There’s a hint of pride in that last sentence.

Rhodey’s eyes narrow as he looks from Natasha to Tony and back to Natasha again. “This feels like an elaborate practical joke,” he mutters. He further scrutinizes them, but apparently finds no evidence to support his thoughts. “So, Tones, with all of this…” he looks at Natasha, “is Natalie even your real name?”

Natasha simply smiles.

Tony is 17 and Natasha is 21 when Tony graduates M.I.T with a degree in electrical engineering.

She takes a jet straight after finishing a mission in Germany. Sure, she’s a tad bit sleep-deprived and she has some bruises on her ribs, but like hell is she going to miss Tony’s graduation.

“Good job.” Natasha takes off his cap and ruffles his hair once again. “I’m proud of you.” Howard and Maria have already given Tony their congratulations; she can still see Maria’s lipstick stains on Tony’s cheek. No matter how much he scrubs, they wouldn’t come off.

Tony beams up at her with so much pride and admiration in his face that it feels like she’s the one that’s graduating. “I should thank you, you know. Um, you really… you really helped me.” When Rhodey wasn’t available, it was Natasha who helped him deal with the stress of his entirely-too-large workload. It was Natasha who listened to him list off his insecurities–his fear of never being good enough–and helped him work through them. It was Natasha who guided him with a firm, yet gentle hand. “I’m… I’m glad that you stayed with us.”

Natasha smiles. “I’m glad that I stayed.”

Tony hugs her (not seeing her wince) before running off to join his friends.

Tony is 20 and Natasha is 24 when their parents die.

Tony freezes when they’re told the news. She can almost hear the gears in his brain turning, trying desperately to comprehend what he’s just been told. Then, he runs to his room like a scolded child, slamming the door behind him and rattling the pictures hanging on the walls.

Natasha’s shoulders deflate. Maria and Howard might have not been her biological parents, but they were there. They took care of her–spoiled her, in her opinion. Any normal child living a normal life probably would’ve never worried about getting enough to eat or having enough clean clothes to wear, but Natasha is far from normal. All of the things they gave her were precious.

(Okay, maybe it was more Maria than Howard, but at least Howard gave her a place in S.H.I.E.L.D and never really complained.)

She gives herself 10 minutes before she goes after Tony. As she approaches, soft sobs slip out from underneath his door (which still has the T-O-N-Y stickers in red and gold they stuck up there on his 11th birthday), and it makes her heart squeeze. It seems… wrong for Tony to cry. He’s usually so full of life that it just… it’s wrong.

She gently knocks on the door thrice. Tony doesn’t respond, but she opens it anyway.

The room is pitch black, save for the moonlight filtering in through the window. Her eyes land on Tony’s trembling form, curled up on tightly on his bed that he looks more like a blob than an actual living person. “Not now, Nat,” he croaks, sniffling.

Natasha sighs, walking into his room and sitting down on the edge of his bed.

He shies away.

It hurts, but she tries not to let it show. “Tony, I’m not going to let you sit there and wallow–”

“Don’t pretend,” he cuts her off.

She swallows. “Don’t pretend?”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not affected!” he snaps, looking up at her with puffy, bloodshot eyes. “They were your parents too, Nat. My mom was your mom too.”

Natasha feels the wall she doesn’t even know she put up crack. She doesn’t–she didn’t–she can’t cry. That’s weak. (A small voice at the back of her head–Maria’s voice–tells her that it’s okay to cry. It’s natural. She shouldn’t hold it in.) But Tony’s words bounce and bounce and bounce around in her mind.

She watches as Tony rubs at his right eye with the heel of his palm.

“I’m not pretending,” she says, voice cracking at the end. She feels a tear slip out. “I’m not pretending.”

(The funeral service, to put it nicely, sucked. No one really knew who Natasha was, just that she seemed to be a friend of Tony’s. No one consoled her. No one told her that “Howard and Maria should be proud that they raised such a fine child.” Everyone focused on Tony. Everyone only knew Tony. She doesn’t resent him for that. She’s not jealous. But it would’ve been nice to hear someone–anyone–tell her that everything’ll be alright in the end.  

She gives the paparazzi deadly glares as she escorts Tony away from the service, hiding his face with her black jacket. “Vultures, all of them,” she hisses.

Underneath the jacket, Tony chuckles.)

Tony is 21 and Natasha is 25 when Tony becomes the CEO of Stark Industries, taking over Obadiah, an old family friend that Natasha never particularly liked.

“I don’t know,” Tony says, scrubbing the side of his face with his hand. “I’m not sure if this’ll work.” He stares down at the prototype of a missile system he’s working on. Jericho, he calls it.

“The weapon or the demonstration?” she asks from her spot curled up on a couch he has sitting down in the SI lab, scrolling down some webpage that claims to have the juiciest gossip on the most relevant celebrities of today. It’s her guilty pleasure; sue her.  

“Both,” Tony admits sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. He’s always been charming, he’s always known how to play to a crowd, but this would be his first major sale since… since the accident. It’d be his first major sale as the CEO. He needs to prove himself. Needs to show everyone that he’s more than just Howard Stark’s son. He’ll be the one to bring about world peace.

He can’t see it, but he just knows that Natasha is rolling her eyes. “It’ll be fine, Antoshka. You’re a smart man.”

He preens. Just a little.

“Plus, Rhodey’ll be there, right? It’ll be impossible for you to make a fool of yourself then.”

He pouts. Just a little.

Tony is still 21 and Natasha is still 25 when they meet Virginia “call me Pepper” Potts, a potential candidate to be Tony’s personal assistant.

“You should hire her,” Natasha says breathlessly after Pepper leaves her interview. She watches as the other’s perfectly styled ponytail swings side to side. “Her previous experience is much more extensive than the other candidates, plus her references had nothing but good things to say about her. She seems like the kind of professional, put-together person that you desp–”

“You think she’s pretty~” Tony lilts, giving her a shit-eating grin. He barely manages to get out of range when she swipes at him and laughs. “Don’t worry, I was already planning on hiring her anyway. She does seem like–what were you going to say–’the kind of professional, put-together person that I desperately need’?”

Natasha scoffs, kicking at his shin.

“I smell an office romance!” he giggles.

She kicks at him some more.

(Natasha does end up asking her out, but makes it clear that Pepper doesn’t have to accept if she doesn’t want to.

Pepper accepts, thankfully, and their first date is spent at eating at a deli and feeding the ducks at Central Park.

As Pepper laughs, Natasha thinks she’s never seen anyone more beautiful.)

Tony is 22 and Natasha is 26 when the Jericho demonstration does not go fine.

Rhodey calls her in a panic, saying that they lost Tony in Afghanistan after being attacked.

Her blood runs cold, heart plummeting to her stomach. She’s already lost Maria and Howard. If she loses Tony too, then… she doesn’t know what she’ll do. Her tentative relationship with Pepper is put on hold as she commandeers one of S.H.I.E.L.D’s jets and makes her way to Afghanistan as quickly as she can. Pepper, of course, has questions. Many of them, in fact. Such as: what is S.H.I.E.L.D and why does she seem to have so much pull in there? What is she hoping to achieve in Afghanistan that the U.S. Army can’t? Who is Tony to her?

Natasha promises to answer all of her questions when she comes back.

“It’s my fault,” Rhodey mumbles in the humvee on their way to the base, wiping tiredly at his eyes. “I left him alone. If I was with him–”

“You would have gotten killed,” Natasha says sympathetically, placing a comforting hand on Rhodey’s knee, “and that wouldn’t help him at all.” His guilt rolls off of him in waves, and she can tell that it’s eating him alive. She knows how that feels like.

Rhodey shakes his head and sighs for what seems like the nth time today. “Let’s just hope we find him.”

“That’s all we can hope.” She tries not to think about what might be happening to Tony. If his kidnappers were ballsy enough–powerful enough–to get to him past an armed escort, then there’s no telling what they’re capable of doing to him.

Tony’s not a trained spy. He doesn’t have the pain tolerance built up through years of harsh training. And he’s–he’s so stubborn, so firm in his stances that Natasha thinks nothing short of death would get him to cooperate.

She tries not to think about them finding a limp, breathless body.

(“They keep telling me to give up,” Rhodey whispers to her when they’re alone, an edge of frustration to his voice. “They keep telling me that he’s dead. That it’s a waste of resources–a waste of my time. But he’s not dead. I can–I can feel it, you know?”

Natasha nods solemnly. “I know.”

For both of their sakes, she hopes that he’s right.)

Tony is still 22 and Natasha is still 26 when they find Tony wandering the desert, 3 months later.

It’s Rhodey that spots him first, doing a double-take when he sees a figure frantically waving their arms in the sand down below.

“Tony?! Oh my god, that’s Tony!” he yells so loudly that Natasha is sure that they didn’t need the headsets to hear him all the way in the cockpit. “Land! Land right now!” He looks like he’s seconds away from jumping out of the helicopter himself, the vein in his neck bulging.

They land quick, the helicopter’s blades roaring above their head. She doesn’t even have time to unbuckle her seatbelt before Rhodey’s already jumping out, running with a couple of other soldiers towards… towards Tony.

By the time she’s out, Rhodey and Tony are embracing like a father and his child, Tony’s arms around Rhodey’s neck. Rhodey holds Tony tightly, bringing him close like he’s afraid Tony’s gonna fly away if he lets go.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she hears him sob. It breaks her heart. “It’s my–it’s my–”

“No, Tones, no.” Rhodey pulls away from Tony, cupping the man’s face in his gloved hands. A bolt of shock jolts through Natasha’s body when she takes in how skinny his face is. “S’not your fault. None of this–none of what happened–is your fault.”

Tony closes his eyes and shakes his head, not believing a word of what Rhodey says. Natasha takes that time to kneel down next to the duo. “Hey, Tony,” she says softly.

Tony’s eyes fly open. “Nat?” His voice sounds downright pitiful as he stares at her with disbelieving wide eyes. “You’re… here, am I hallucinating?”

Rhodey manages to laugh, although it’s more to lighten the mood than to express amusement. “No. She’s really here. Stole a S.H.I.E.L.D jet and everything.”

“Commandeered a jet, Colonel Rhodes,” she amends.

Rhodey grins. “She stole it.”

Tony doesn’t say anything, looking at the both of them in a dazed confusion, mouth slightly agape. “So–so… this has nothing to do with how I haven’t had anything to drink for the last few days?”

Natasha raises an eyebrow.

A split second later, she finds herself with an armful of Tony. He’s shaking so badly that Natasha is afraid he’s gonna turn himself into the sand that surrounds them. Rhodey is stroking Tony’s neck, whispering comforting words as Tony continues to shiver.

Part of Natasha hopes that the people who did this to him are still alive.

She wants to kill them herself.

Tony is still 22 and Natasha is still 26 when Tony tells her about the arc reactor and the shrapnel. About Yinsen. About him being Iron Man.

“I shouldn’t be alive,” he says, sounding far too fragile than she’s comfortable with. If she takes a step closer, he looks he might break. “Unless it was for a reason. I’m not crazy, Nat. I just finally know what I have to do, and in my heart… I know it’s right.”

Natasha swallows. Her little brother–god, that’s weird–is out there, barely old enough to drink, risking his life on a daily basis to try and make up for the things he did before, all the weapons and the bloodshed and… and it reminds her of her.

She has yet to see if that’s a good thing.

(They also decide to tell Pepper and Harold “Happy” Hogan, Tony’s sort-of bodyguard, the truth about their relationship.

“Oh. So, I’m dating your sister,” Pepper says calmly, but Natasha knows that she’s exploding inside with even more questions. Happy looks at Pepper weirdly, like he can’t believe that peppy, sprightly Pepper is dating brooding, silent Natasha. Natasha can’t say she blames him.

“Okay. That’s… okay. I’ll be good to her, Tony.” Pepper smiles reassuringly, but Natasha can tell it’s more like she’s reassuring herself than her brother. It’s not everyday that you find out that your girlfriend also happens to be the adopted sister of your boss who could probably buy your entire life with a snap of his fingers.

Yeah. She can see how that might be strange.

“You better be!” Tony exclaims with no real heat behind it. He likes Pepper too much to actually threaten her.)

Tony is still 22 and Natasha is still 26 when they find out Obadiah Stane was behind Tony’s kidnapping and subsequent torture.

Natasha wasn’t there when Pepper pushed the button that fried Obadiah, but god she wishes that she was.

(Tony reveals who he is shortly after.

“Is he always like this?” Coulson exasperatedly asks Natasha. The reporters are busy yelling and screaming and shouting, nearly trampling each other in an attempt to get closer to Tony. Tony looks over at the two of them and actually smiles, that idiot.

Natasha smirks. “You have no idea.”)

Tony is 23 and Natasha is 27 when Tony starts dying from palladium poisoning.

He doesn’t tell anyone. Only J.A.R.V.I.S knows. Rhodey… Rhodey kind of knows. The only thing he’s aware of is that the palladium burns quick, it burns ugly, and it leaves a stupid-looking futuristic crossword puzzle crawling up his neck.

Tony goes on a bender. Starts drinking heavily even though he would barely touch a wine cooler when he was younger (thanks to Natasha). He shows up to board meetings sloshed and his signatures are barely legible.

(He locks himself in his lab and sobs, clawing at his chest and cursing the ironic powers that be for bestowing upon him an object that simultaneously saves and kills him.)

He makes Pepper C.E.O when she comes down to his lab to confront him about his recent behavior. Immediately, she asks if he’s okay. She places a cool palm on Tony’s forehead. “You’re scaring me, Tony,” she chokes out. They haven’t been working together for that long, but she sees Tony as the little brother she’s never had. “The way you’re acting… it’s like you’re dying.”

Tony scoffs, swatting away Pepper’s hand. “M’not, don’t worry. You won’t be getting rid of me that easily.” Now would be a good test of the acting skills Natasha taught him when they were younger. “Just… I don’t think I can handle the stress of running SI and, you know, doing the other thing at the same time.”

Pepper nods stiffly. She doesn’t fully believe him, he can tell, but she also doesn’t want to push the matter further. She steps back, giving Tony space. “C.E.O?” she sniffs, the corner of her mouth curling up in partial amusement.

“Yes!” he enthusiastically shouts, sounding relieved. “Ms. C.E.O, I think we need to celebrate!” He waves a hand, and DUM-E comes rolling in, chirping happily while carrying a platter of sliced meats and cheeses. U follows close behind with a bucket filled to the brim with ice, a bottle of expensive champagne, and 2 crystal wine glasses.

(People start to speculate as to why Tony would step down as C.E.O of SI when they’re just starting to build their stocks up again. Pepper, poor Pepper, is just pretty enough that they start saying she’s Tony’s illicit lover who’s taking advantage of his loneliness to take over Stark Industries.

“As if!” Tony throws the paper into the trash, hands clapping together the second it lands. “I don’t see how people can believe this bullshit!”

Pepper snickers, daintily covering her laughter with a hand. “I know! You’re not even my type.”

Natasha strolls over, pressing a kiss to Pepper’s temple. “We all know you prefer redheads.” She sits herself down in Pepper’s lap, tucking her head under Pepper’s chin.

Tony groans, turning his entire body away from the affectionate couple. “My god, get a room!”)

He lets Rhodey take the Iron Man armor. He wasn’t even drunk; all he had in that flask was a bunch of apple juice, but acting drunk was cathartic in a way.

He hears the pain in Rhodey’s voice when Rhodey tells him that he doesn’t need to do this.

All he remembers after that is a bright flash, Rhodey taking off, and then darkness. He doesn’t know how long he lies in the rubble that used to be his living room, but he does know that he’d fucked up.

(“You’re dying,” Natasha hisses, slamming both of her hands down on his desk. Despite the sting in her words, her eyes are soft, if a bit calculating. “Does anyone else know?”

Tony doesn’t even flinch, eyes looking around the room–looking at anything but her. He expected this kind of reaction. “No,” he grits out. “Only me. And J.A.R.V.I.S. And now you. How did you know?” He swore J.A.R.V.I.S to secrecy and made sure to leave nothing lying about that could even suggest that he’s ill.

“We know the symptoms of palladium poisoning, Antoshka,” Natasha says, gently now.

Tony tilts his head. “We?”

At that moment, the door slides open. A rather severe-looking African-American man walks in, a patch over his left eye. “You’re not an easy man to get an audience with, Stark.”

Tony’s face flashes with betrayal, and Natasha would feel bad for being the one who put it there if she didn’t think that Tony needed this. “I told you, I don’t want to join your super-secret boy band,” he mumbles, sinking in his seat.

Fury grins.)

He synthesizes a new element, thanks to Howard (and somewhat thanks to the pain-in-the-ass Nick Fury).

It feels good. His blood no longer feels like acid and he can breathe, damn it.

He’s never felt better.

(“Natasha was the one who recommended you, you know,” Fury says, tapping his fingers on the metal desk melodically.

Tony thinks back to Natasha calling S.H.I.E.L.D a “circus run by monkeys–except that monkeys would probably do better!” and snorts.

Fury picks up a pen and twirls it slowly, never taking his eye off of Tony. “She sees something in you, Stark. I don’t know what it is, but she sees something.” He places the pen down with a click. “Don’t disappoint her.”)

Tony is 24 and Natasha is 28 when the Avengers are assembled.

Natasha can’t say that she’s fond of the way Steve talks to Tony like he’s not deserving of his title, but she tries to keep her cool. The last thing she needs is for them to bombard her with questions as to why she’s so defensive of Tony.

But, just to let the others know that Tony is under her protection, she lets them see the way she brushes his bangs from his eyes, the way she allows him to sprawl over her on the couch, and the way she generally lets him get away with things that she would flay other people alive for.

(“You think she likes Stark?” Steve grunts, leaning his hip against a table in some lab that S.H.I.E.L.D set them up in and crossing his arms. Things could get complicated if she does, and they really don’t need anything else to add to the volatile stew that is their team chemistry.

Bruce clicks his tongue and makes a show of stepping away from Steve. “Sorry, but I’m not about to get involved in that kind of speculation,” he says, although his tone doesn’t make him seem actually apologetic. He rubs his hands together. “But, um, speculation about that blue-glowy thingy? I’m all up for that.”)

Their confusion amuses her. Yes, she know all about the theories they have about her and Tony’s relationship. (She tries not to retch every time she hears one.) They need to tell the others soon.

But for now, she supposes she can have some fun in confusing them even more. When Pepper visits, she makes sure to up her usual affectionate gestures whenever they’re in eyesight of one of the Avengers. Back hugs, kisses on the cheek and temple, and whispers of sweet nothings in Pepper’s ear.

(“Perhaps they are all in a relationship together,” Thor offers, shrugging his shoulders. “It is not an uncommon practice on Asgard, as long as all parties consent. I have seen relationships that consist of more than 2 people.”

Steve stares at the table. Bruce continues to tap at some hologram. “Speculation,” Bruce sighs out.)

Tony is still 24 and Natasha is still 28 when Tony does something stupidly heroic–emphasis on stupid–and flies a nuke into a wormhole.

The right side of her head is matted with blood and sweat, and the left corner of her mouth stings like nothing else. Her head continues to pound as she throws the scepter to the ground. Everything fucking hurts.

But none of that pain compares to watching as Tony falls out of that wormhole, body limp.

(She’s just glad he was able to fall out before it closed, because if he got stuck up there, she’d have to live knowing that she’s the reason.)

Thor swings by, carrying her down to the ground, but her eyes stay glued on Tony. She knows she’s gripping onto Thor’s bicep a bit too hard, her nails digging into his skin, but he’s a god. He can take it.

Banner, thankfully, doesn’t seem inclined to let Tony turn into a red-and-gold splat on the pavement as he catches Tony’s falling body before it hits the ground. She rubs at her forehead, stress building up in the back of her head.

She, Thor, and Steve run over and kneel near his body. Thor rips off Tony’s mask, revealing his pale face, both of his eyes closed. Quietly, she gasps, sitting down on the backs of her legs, eyes raking up and down his body. She takes in the damage done to his suit and prays that Tony’s just unconscious instead of… instead of something else.

Steve leans over Tony’s chest, trying to hear a heartbeat or the sound of breathing or anything that would say Tony’s alive.

Tony doesn’t open his eyes.

Before Natasha–or Steve, if the way he’s staring intently at Tony’s mouth is anything to go by–can start on CPR, Banner roars and Tony is jolted awake with a gasp.

“Alright, hey!” Tony says weakly after being informed of their victory. “Good job guys. And Nat!” He does a pathetic attempt at a finger gun, barely able to lift his hand more than a few inches off the ground.

Natasha snorts. She’d hit him on the forehead if she wasn’t afraid of some underlying injury.

He struggles to swallow, smacking his lips before talking. “You ever try shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about 2 blocks from here.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Steve smile. Maybe they’ll get along after all.

Tony is still 24 and Natasha is still 28 when Tony is thought dead after an attack on his Malibu mansion–an attack that Natasha knew was going to come, but couldn’t do anything about.

“He could still be alive,” she says as a statement rather than a bid to placate, wrapping her arm around Pepper’s waist as they stare out of a window in some hotel room that Pepper booked. She’s seen Tony get up and dust himself off after a near-death incident one too many times for her to be comfortable with, but it gives her hope that he’s survived. It’s gonna take more than a few missiles and half of his mansion to take down Tony.

Pepper wipes at the corner of her eyes. “I’m going back to the mansion in the morning–or what–what was the mansion. I’ll see if… if there’s anything we can save.” Her sniffles die down, and she leans into Natasha’s hold.

(Then Pepper tells her about the message Tony left her. He’s alive.

That’s all Natasha needs to know.)

Tony is still 24 and Natasha is still 28 when Pepper is kidnapped, injected with Extremis, is subsequently removed of any trace of Extremis, and Tony gets the shrapnel removed.

Tony dusts off DUM-E and U and Butterfingers, cooing something about how they’re okay, how dad’s here. “I’m still Iron Man, you know!” Tony says to the both of them, twirling around in his seat before fitting a DUNCE cap on DUM-E.

“You’re a child, is what you are,” Pepper teases. She bites her bottom lip afterward to keep herself from bursting into another round of tears. It’s been an emotional sort of week.

Natasha kisses her cheek, returning her girlfriend’s grateful smile. “I agree with Pepper.” She tucks a stray lock of Pepper’s hair behind her ear.

“Unfair!” Tony protests, bursting their reality bubble. “She’s your girlfriend, of course you’re always gonna agree with her!”

Tony is 26 and Natasha is 30 when Natasha finds out the truth of how their parents died.

Steve gulps. “I don’t think we should tell Tony about this,” he whispers to Natasha, hand on her forearm. They’re so close to finding Bucky–so goddamn close–and this revelation certainly throws a wrench into their plans. “If he finds out, he would never–”

Natasha swallows down a ball of fury. “Tell him,” she says sharply, looking at him with as much fire as she can muster. He blinks, grip loosening. “You need to tell him. You think his reaction right now will be bad?–” she shakes her head, glare never leaving his face– “It will pale in comparison to his reaction if you keep hiding this from him and he has to find out himself.” She thinks back to her own painful confession she made back when she was younger, the kind of confession that can break families. She’s just grateful it didn’t break hers.

Steve purses his lips. “Why can’t you tell him then?” He holds out the flip phone and waggles it insistently.

She pushes it to the side, unwilling to let Steve run away from this. If she was able to make that confession when she was 14, he can do it now. “It’s not my best friend that did this. I’m not the one using Tony’s money to fund this chase. Tell him, Rogers.” She jabs at his chest with a finger, ignoring the way he winces. “Or I’ll make you.”

Steve closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, exhaling slowly on the last one. He flips open the phone with just enough force to not break it in half and dials a number. “Tony?” he says into the receiver, eyes flickering to Natasha, “We need to talk. In person.”

A satisfied smile works its way onto her face.

(The smile drops when Steve turns his back. She clutches at her chest, a burning in there she hasn’t felt since that cold December night.

It wasn’t actually James, she tells herself, he was brainwashed. It wasn’t actually him.

She breathes in shakily. It wasn’t him.)

Tony is still 26 and Natasha is still 30 when Tony finds out the truth of how their parents died.

His eyes turn into steel and his walls build themselves back up. “Fuck off, Rogers,” he snarls, words turning into knives trying to find a chink in Steve’s armor. He starts to walk off, but he’s stopped when Steve grabs his wrist. As much as he struggles, he’s no match for Steve’s enhanced strength. “Let go.” His eyes flash dangerously and the bracelet on his other wrist beeps, ready to call the Iron Man armor.

“Tony, he was brainwashed–used by HYDRA,” Steve desperately says, staring Tony in the eyes in hopes that those words would sway Tony’s feelings.

“He killed my mom–” Tony’s voice cracks on the last word.

Steve shakes Tony’s wrist, tugging him closer. “It wasn’t him. He was being used as a weapon. Tony, please,” he pleads.

Tony blinks wetly. “Does Natasha know?” he asks quietly.

Steve nods, confused. “She–she does. Why?”

Something blazes in Tony’s eyes. “She told you to tell me, didn’t she?” His tone is borderline accusatory. “Would you have told me if she didn’t ask you to?” he asks, searching Steve’s eyes. He wants his answer to be yes. He wants to know that his trust in Steve wasn’t misplaced, because honestly? This is… this is a fucking mess.

Steve stays silent.

He lets Tony’s wrist slip out of his hand as Tony walks away.

(“He told you,” Natasha bluntly says as she enters Tony’s lab, J.A.R.V.I.S turning down the Metallica blasting from the speakers.

Tony throws a screwdriver across the room, probably breaking something that costs more than what most people make in a month. “I wish he didn’t. Could’ve–could’ve just left me in blissful ignorance.” He angrily runs a hand through his hair, curling into himself.

Natasha walks over, picking up a screwdriver for herself. “You would’ve wanted to know, Tony. Don’t lie to yourself.” Like Tony, she throws it. Except this time, it embeds itself into the wall, startling Tony. “Steve was right. It wasn’t him.”

“How can you defend him?!” Tony explodes, standing up from his stool so quickly it knocks over.

“Because I’m not being a child, Tony!” Natasha snaps back, heart squeezing when Tony flinches and steps back, nearly tripping over the stool. “I told you–Steve’s been telling you–it wasn’t James. I know you’re angry. I was angry. But, Tony… you can’t blame him for this.”

He looks away, jaw clenching. “Just go.”

“Antoshka–”

“Go!”)

Tony is 27 and Natasha is 31 when Steve brings Bucky home.

She finds herself getting quite close to the ex-assassin. She helps him adjust to the modern era, whether that means accompanying him whenever he ventures outside or simply making a list of his basic needs. Sometimes they spar; it’s nice to be able to test her skills against someone on the same level.

(Tony is still awkward around the other man. Outside of regular arm maintenance sessions, the most Bucky gets from him is stilted smiles and jokes that fall flat. It’s enough to make even her cringe.)

“How… how can I get Tony to be more comfortable around me?” Bucky asks quietly, swirling a glass of orange juice as the both of them stand in the communal kitchen.

Natasha raises an eyebrow as she looks at him. Where in the world did that question come from? “You just have to give him time.”

However, that seems like the wrong answer as a gentle crease forms between his brows. “Give him time? After what I did to him, I don’t think all the time in the world could help.” He lets out a breathy laugh, sounding near hysterical at the thought of Tony disliking him.

She has to bite her tongue to prevent herself from saying that she warmed up to Bucky just fine even after what he did. “Why do you seem care so much?” she asks, genuinely curious. “You’ve never tried to talk to him before.”

Bucky shuffles on his feet, flushing just slightly. “He’s kind,” he starts, “an’ generous. From what I’ve seen, he’s… he’s a real hero.” He rubs the back of his neck with his free hand, already sufficiently embarrassed. “He doesn’t deserve to be scared in his own house.” Vulnerability shines through his voice.

Natasha thinks there’s more to it than just that, but she leaves it be. “He’ll come around.”

Tony is still 27 and Natasha is still 31 when Tony starts coming around. (Natasha’s refuses to take credit for it.)

It starts as Tony actively trying to converse with Bucky more, seeming determined to talk to him for longer than 10 seconds. His smiles become less and less forced, and his jokes actually get a laugh now. Hell, sometimes he even brings Bucky coffee in the mornings (though it’s obvious that Tony himself hasn’t slept yet).

Routine arm maintenance used to take 10 minutes; Bucky could go down to the lab and come back up before the commercial breaks for Cake Boss are over, but now? It drags on for hours as they talk and talk and talk about anything and everything they can think of. Bucky always comes back up with a lovesick look on his face (and Clint and Sam razz him about it any chance they get).

Tony even starts to invite Bucky to the Lord of the Rings and Star Wars marathons he hosts for a local community center near weekly; in fact, he starts calling himself Bucky’s official teacher on the pop culture of the 21st century. It’s not unusual to walk in on Tony excitedly explaining the plot of Stargate Atlantis or giving a basic rundown on the accuracies and inaccuracies used in shows like Star Trek to Bucky.

And Bucky listens to all of it, a smitten smile on his face.

Their shoulders and elbows touch whenever they sit together on the couch. They trade whispers and shy smiles like they’re the only people in the room. Bucky looks at Tony like he hangs the sun, while Tony looks at Bucky like he’s the moon and stars all wrapped up in one person.

It’s so obvious to everyone but them.

(“Do you think Buck’ll ever make a move?” Steve whispers to Natasha, sounding like a tired older brother as he glances at Bucky and Tony get close to each other on the couch and start their oft-talked about Mythbusters session. “Hell, do you think either of them’ll make a move?”

The corner of Natasha’s mouth curls up. “I doubt it.” She knows the both of them. They’d rather do a little dance around each other until the day they die than confront the other about their feelings.

Steve’s eyes hood, unamused. “Yeah. I doubt it too.”)

Tony is still 27 and Natasha is still 31 when Bucky tells Natasha how he feels (as if she didn’t already know the second Bucky threw those heart-eyes in Tony’s direction).

“He’s gorgeous, Natasha,” Bucky groans during one of their yoga sessions. He blows a strand of hair out of his face, grumbling something about ponytails and their uselessness.

Natasha hums, lowering her pelvis down to the ground, switching to the cobra pose. “He is handsome, isn’t he?”

Bucky follows her lead. Something in his back pops, and he hopes it’s a good kind of pop and not the you-messed-something-up-bad pop. “He has–he has the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” Natasha glances at him, expression unreadable, and he stiffens. “I mean, uh…” He thinks back to what the other Avengers have whispered about Natasha and Tony and frowns. “…You don’t–”

“I don’t have a crush on Tony, no,” Natasha says, irritated. God, they really need to tell the others soon. She loves Tony, she really does, but not like that. Ew. “You’re good for him, though.”

Bucky nods, his hair bun wagging up and down. He didn’t even know that he was searching for Natasha’s approval, but he feels so much better now that he has it. “Thanks. I’m… I’m hoping that I can make him happy.”

(Then he clears his throat. “So, I guess you wouldn’t mind if I said that he had a nice butt?” he tries to joke, but Natasha can tell he’s being serious.

A significantly more taxing, intense regime pops up in her mind. Totally a coincidence, she swears.)

Tony is still 27 and Natasha is still 31 when they decide to tell the Avengers the truth.

Pepper is there for moral support, holding Natasha’s hand and whispering encouragements into her ear.

“Oh, man,” Clint mumbles, fiddling with an arrow he retrieved from his quiver. “So, those rumors… oh man, that’s bad.” He refuses to look either Tony or Natasha in the eye, instead settling for staring at his scuffed boots.

Tony snorts. “Yeah. It is. We’ve been meaning to tell you guys, it’s just that we keep forgetting. Y’know, ‘cause we’re idiots–” Natasha gives him the stink eye– “uh, actually, I’m the idiot. I’m the only idiot.”

“It makes sense,” Bruce says, twiddling his thumbs. “You two are too close to be just friends, but you two are obviously not like that. Yeah, I see it.”

Tony beams at Bruce. “I always knew you were the smart one, Brucie!”

Bucky, meanwhile, seems to be having a breakdown in the corner of the room. Steve is trying futilely to calm him down. “I shouldn’t have said that,” he cringes, face scrunching up.

“Said what?” Steve tilts his head to the side.

“I told… I told Natasha I thought Tony had a nice butt,” Bucky admits, head hanging low.

But he must’ve said that louder than he thought because everyone turns around to look at him. Bruce manages to look sympathetic, but Clint and Sam are wheezing and slapping their knees. Thor looks like he might die of embarrassment along with Bucky–a side-effect of being empathetic, Bucky supposes.

“You think I have a nice butt?” Tony blurts out, cheeks turning a rosy red.

Before Bucky can reply, Natasha stands up. He gulps and all but leaps out of his seat. “I’m gonna go–” he breathes out, sounding terrified– “I’m gonna go!” Steve can only watch as Bucky bolts out of the room, hair frazzled and his jacket slipping off of one of his shoulders.

Natasha cackles as she sits back down.

Tony is 29 and Natasha is 33 when some aliens land on earth demanding the Infinity Stones.

Despite Bucky and Natasha’s protests, Tony hops on one of their spaceships.

And doesn’t come back down.

Tony is still 29 and Natasha is still 33 when she witnesses everyone around her turning to ash.

She wonders how she’s going to tell Tony about Sam. About Bucky. She chokes on her grief.

Looking up at the sky, she hopes that Tony was spared–she hopes that he’s alive.

When Steve tries to talk to her, all that comes out is a sob.

Her tears hit the forest floor.

Tony is still 29 and Natasha is still 33 when he finally makes his way back down to Earth after near a goddamn month of being missing.

Rhodey and Pepper rush to his side. Thin, is the first thing that pops into her mind, far too thin. The next thing is how much good a heaping plateful of Maria’s risotto would do him. She shakes her head at that thought and jogs over to join the trio.

(”Nat,” Tony croaks, sagging into her side as she takes Steve’s place. “Nat.” He looks up at her through thin eyelashes, his cheeks sunken, with a sickly grey undertone to his skin. “You’re okay.”

“I am okay,” she whispers, frowning as she wraps one of her hands around Tony’s wrists. Definitely too thin.)

Tony is still 29 and Natasha is still 33 when all of them start to look for a way to reverse the snap.

Natasha watches as Tony slaves over some blueprint, hooked up to an IV drip. Trying to get him to eat, drink, or rest is near impossible short of shoving the food and water down his throat or sedating him. He squints at the holographic screen in front of him before yelling, frustrated, and swiping it all away.

She gets up and walks over to him as he curls up into a ball in his wheelchair. “Let Bruce take a crack at it.”

“It’s outside his area of expertise,” he mumbles, form shivering slightly.

“I know. But you at least get a break.”

(”Are you… really doing okay, Nat?” Tony asks around his mouthful of peanut butter sandwich. It was less of a struggle to get Tony to eat this time around, but Natasha suspects it largely might have been out of pity.

She pauses with her glass of water halfway to her mouth. “Am I fine?” she ponders. All those people. Gone. The family that she’s built up. Gone. She could’ve done more. Something. Anything to spare them all from the pain of losing a loved one–a spouse, child, sibling.

She takes a sip, closes her eyes, and recomposes herself. “Yes.”)

Tony is 32 and Natasha is 36 when they take a small stroll down to the convenience store that’s only being kept open due to its diligent owner and the fact that Tony drops a couple hundred bucks in there every time they go.

“Can I ask you something?” Tony picks up a Snickers bar and turns it over, checking under the flap for the expiration date. Even with half the world gone, they’re still pretty careful with stocking non-expired products, but Tony doesn’t particularly feel like gambling today.

Natasha hums, throwing every variety of Lays into her shopping basket.

“When are you gonna propose to Pep already?” He lets the question rush out before ducking behind the shelves. He’s learned to never underestimate the force at which Natasha can throw things, not even when it comes to cellophane bags that are more air than actual product.

“Tony!” she growls, going on her tiptoes to look over the aisles and find the tell-tale tousle of Tony’s hair. She finds him cowering next to the Sour Patch Kids and launches a well-aimed bag of barbecue flavored chips at his head.

“Just propose!” he whoops, laughing as the bag bounces off of his head and tumbles down onto the floor.

She joins in on his happiness, and in the back of her mind she realizes how much she misses this. How much she misses being normal. Or as normal as someone like her can get, anyway.

(”We should get married,” Natasha casually says as she and Pepper lounge on the couch, watching old, old videos on YouTube.

Startled, Pepper jolts upright, looking at Natasha with wide eyes and her mouth agape. “Are you– are you being serious?” She looks like she’s torn between kissing Natasha senseless or yelling at her because what kind of proposal is that.

“Not right now, of course, because I know you would want to invite everybody…” she trails off, the ‘everybody who was dusted’ lingering in the air. “But we should, at a point.”

“Do I at least get a ring?” Pepper ribs.

Natasha shows off a kiwi-flavored Ring Pop. “Brand new. In its wrapper, even.”)

Tony is 34 and Natasha is 38 when Tony bursts into her and Pepper’s room in the middle of the night, eyes wide and bright off of the high of a brand new discovery.

“You won’t believe this!” he exclaims as he excitedly jumps into their bed like he’s 10 again and trying to wake Natasha up on Christmas morning. “You won’t– I can barely believe it!”

Pepper grunts, displeased, while Natasha’s eyes flutter open. She’s known Tony long enough to know that he won’t stop babbling unless someone sits down and listens to him. “What?” Her voice is rough from sleep, and she can barely see past the blur in her eyes, but that doesn’t stop Tony from tugging her up into a sitting position.

“You remember Scott?” He’s breathless, giddy. “His entire time travel thing?”

She nods slowly. “Yes. You called it bullshit.”

“Except that it isn’t!” He points, index finger trembling, towards the wide open door, a pale blue light washing over the doorframe. “I think… I think I figured it out.”

Natasha scrambles out of bed so quickly that she nearly knocks Tony off and pulls on one of Pepper’s jackets that’s hanging over a chair. “Show me,” she says, voice stained with hope.

Tony smiles.

(”Antoshka,” she breathes out, fondness seeping through in every syllable of the endearment. “This is amazing.” Her eyes roam every inch of the blueprint, hungrily soaking up every single detail from the notes written in tiny font to the side of the screen to the giant, green text proclaiming the success rate to be 99.9%.

He engulfs her in a sudden hug, and, as soon as it happens, it’s over, his hands resting on the sides of her biceps. “We can bring them back!” His eyes shine, and she too begins to feel a prickling behind her eyes.

“We can bring them back,” she repeats, grinning proudly.)

Tony is still 34 and Natasha is still 38 when they get the time machine up and running, having spent countless hours engrossed in heavy lifting and wire connecting.

They have a plan. 3 teams. 6 stones. 1 chance.

“Come back safe.” Pepper presses a gentle kiss on Natasha’s cheek, tucking a lock of red-blond hair behind her ear. “Bring them back. We’re going to have a summer wedding.”

“I fully expect to be the best man!” Tony pipes up from where he’s talking with Steve and Rhodey, looking at the both of them with a hint of wistfulness in his eyes.

Pepper smiles at him, biting her bottom lip like she always does. “We wouldn’t have anyone else.”

Natasha draws her in for another kiss.

(”Vormir, right?” Clint twirls his sword.

Natasha nods. “That’s where we find the soul stone. Rhodey and Nebula will take care of the power stone.”

If Nebula’s jaw clenches at the mention of Vormir, of 2 of her teammates going there, not fully knowing the price that is to be paid, no one notices.)

Tony is still 34 and Natasha is still 38 when Natasha and Clint land on Vormir and are faced with an agonizing choice.

They argue for what feels like hours, trying to justify why it should be them and not the other, until they stand together, forehead to forehead in one last comforting gesture.

Then, Clint flips her onto her back, knocking the wind out of her. “Tell my family I love them,” he says, ready to start running towards the cliff.

Natasha turns the tables, bringing him down harder and faster. “Tell them yourself.” She sprints, braid whipping in the wind.

It’s a scuffle, a full-on brawl as they try to beat the other to the edge, to be the one who gives their life for the salvation of the universe. Clint gets close, so, so close. He can taste the ice in the air, the snow, the iron that’ll fill his mouth once his head makes contact with the ground. He jumps.

Natasha tackles him, slaps the other end of her grappling hook on Clint’s waist and comes to an abrupt stop as Clint holds onto her wrist in a death grip, keeping the both of them suspended in the air, braced against the cliffside. “Damn you,” he chokes out, pulse racing. He reaches out towards her with his free hand, but the stress on his hip is too much, too painful, he retracts it, holding back onto the wire of the grappling hook.

She looks behind her, at the ground below. “Let me go,” she says. There’s no fear in her eyes, and that scares Clint shitless. She looks reassuring, accepting, expecting.

“No.” He grimaces, the strain of keeping both himself and Natasha from plummeting starting to take its toll. He’ll hold onto her all day if he has to. Some of the others will come. They’ll find another way. There has to be another way. “Please, no.”

She nods softly, understandingly. “It’s okay.” He can barely hear her over the blood rushing in his ears, but her words just serve for him to tighten his grip more.

Before he can react, she kicks off of the cliffside, tearing her wrist from Clint’s grasp.

He’s forced to watch as she falls.

(The wind rushes around her, cold and biting. Her heart threatens to leap out of her chest. Clint becomes nothing more than a speck in her vision.

She spreads her arms, thoughts racing at a million miles per hour in her head. No goodbyes, no apologies. People like her don’t get happy endings. She was foolish for thinking that she might have been the exception.

She hopes that Pepper will forgive her. She hopes that Tony will forgive her. She hopes.

In her last second, she thinks only of her family.

And she smiles.)

Tony is still 34 and Natasha is– Natasha is… when they come back.

Tony’s the first one to notice. “Where’s Nat?” He tilts his head to the side in question. Could she be running late? A bit odd, but given how experimental this entire process is, it’s not entirely implausible.

But Clint looks at him with so sorrow and grief and apology in his eyes, his jaw wound shut so tightly that Tony’s almost afraid he might turn his teeth into dust. He thinks he knows what might have happened. He hopes to god that he’s wrong. “Clint?” he ventures again, “where’s Natasha?”

Clint looks away, his adam’s apple bobbing and throat clicking as he swallows.

That’s all Tony needs. His hands start to tremble and terrible, hiccuping sobs start to pour out of his throat as his eyes glue themselves onto the ground. His knees buckle, and he would’ve fallen onto the ground had it not been for Steve’s steadying hands.

After all they’ve been through.

He didn’t even get to say goodbye.

(Pepper shoves her face into the crook of his neck, bawling her eyes out as she hugs him fiercely, like he might disappear too. Her snot and tears get all over the fabric, but instead of being disgusted, he rubs her back soothingly, his own tears rolling down his cheeks. He can’t help but to think that it should’ve been him instead.

As he holds Pepper in his arms, he wonders, briefly, if this was how Natasha felt whenever she’d comfort him after a bad dream or when Howard was a bit too harsh. “We’re gonna be okay,” he croons.

It doesn’t really hit him until he’s staring out over a lake with the other Avengers that Natasha is well and truly gone. She’s not gonna tease him anymore. She’s not gonna be the one to listen to his incessant ramblings when no one else will. She’s not gonna make him her signature borscht or spends hours with him eating pepperoni pizza and watching trashy reality TV.

He’s known her for all of his life.

When she died, a piece of him did too.)

Tony is still 34 and Natasha is dead and gone, and she’s never coming back when Thanos comes into the future with his dumb golden armor after Bruce snapped his fingers using the gauntlet Tony built in his basement–take a goddamn seat, Thanos.

Everyone comes back.

(Except Natasha.)

Everyone helps.

(Except Natasha.)

Everyone is relieved to see each other again.

(Except Natasha.)

He fights, just a touch too much on the side of recklessness, blasting and carving and flying his way through swaths of Outriders. He falls. He gets bent, dented, bruised, and scraped, but he finds his way. He even manages to give Bucky a relieved kiss when they cross paths.

Carol is close to the time-machine-van when Thanos issues his orders to blow everything up. He braces himself as he lands on his stomach.

The Gauntlet tumbles and tumbles and Thanos reaches for it, but he tackles him, effectively buying them some precious few seconds before being punched back out. He glances at the good, ol’ Doctor Strange out of the corner of his eye while Thor and Carol are busy doing what they do.

Strange holds up one scarred finger, and Tony knows exactly what he’s supposed to do.

He rushes at Thanos and fumbles with the Gauntlet. He’s pushed away, flat on his ass as Thanos smirks, relishing in his victory over the weak Terrans. “I am inevitable,” he taunts.

Snap.

Nothing.

Tony holds up his right hand, the Infinity Stones taking hold in his makeshift gauntlet as their power courses through his body. 1 chance. “And I–” he takes a rattling breath– “am Iron Man.”

He snaps his fingers.

Tony is still 34 and Natasha is waiting on the other side for him as he sits against the metal carcass of a ship.

Rhodey has tears free falling down his face as he places an armored hand over Tony’s left cheek, and Tony would laugh, tease his platypus about being so emotional over him if he wasn’t in so much fucking pain. His entire right side is burnt so badly it’s numb, and the nerves that haven’t fully died yet are giving off yeah, we’re hurt super goddamn badly signals.

He can’t even talk.

Bucky and Pepper rush over, and Jesus Christ, Bucky basically slides on his knees for the last couple of feet. “He’ll be fine,” Bucky says, although it’s more of a statement than a question. Figures that Tony would fall in love with the one person who’s more stubborn than he is.

Pepper shakes her head and reaches out to grab Bucky’s metal hand with her own. She doesn’t say anything, just reaches out to rub at Tony’s shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” Bucky insists.

Tony starts to slip, slip, and slip, his breaths becoming more ragged and his chest becoming tighter. His vision starts to fade, and he feels… peaceful. Like all of this weight has been lifted off of his shoulders.

“He’s at rest,” Pepper whispers.

The last thing he registers is Bucky’s chapped lips pressing against his forehead.

Tony was 34 and Natasha was 38 when they saved the world.

Somewhere, they meet again.

[violetnotez]

SHE IS HERE. PART TWO. BY EXTREMELY POPULAR AND LATE DEMAND!!!!

This fic. THIS FIC RIGHT HERE. HAS BEEN FIGHTING SO HARD I AM DONE THIS HAS BEEN A STRUGGLE. If there are typos I AM SORRY- just msg me and ill fix it if its that bad im just tired!

Kirishima x reader

⤷Genre: Angst, Fluff

⤷Word Count: 9k+ (-this has the weekly prompt for the @bnhabookclub​ discord -“Im fine” :)

⤷ Warnings: slight mentions of blood, cursing, suggested spicyness at the end

⤷ Synopsis: It’s been exactly 3 months since the last time Kirishima saw you, after you had abruptly ended things with him. He’s been trying to forget you, but it’s no use-he’s still madly in love with you, and wishes he could get the truth of why you two ended. What a shocker when he gets a chance to ask his questions-and he learns the truth about your villainous life.

Song Recs: ⤷ “Breakeven”-The Script ⤷ “Lucid Dreams”- Juice WRLD ⤷ “Scars”- Lukas Graham

PART 1

Kirishima looked up at his calendar, a sad sigh escaping his lips. 

That number shouldn’t be such a big deal, that plain black “11” tiny and insignificant next to all the other digits, like little ants stationary on the page.

What it represented, though, was so much more: that day so many weeks ago was so full of heartache and misery, the feeling of being lied to eating at his core for days to come. 

Today, 3 months ago, was the day you confessed to him that you didn’t love him. 

Kirishima has never felt so betrayed and heartbroken in his whole life: you were his first real love after all, and hearing you say your love was a lie destroyed him.

He didn’t know what to do or how to even react to that news: he had felt so numb after, so incredibly empty, it was like he was a walking shell of himself once he left your room.

His friends had tried to cheer him up constantly, always putting in the effort to lift his spirits with laughter and comfort. But the warmth of their attempts of cheering him up didn’t help him at all: he always still felt so cold inside.

It also didn’t help that you had mysteriously left UA the day after the “breakup.” When Kirishima laid his tired puffy eyes on your empty desk the next day, his heart couldn’t help but beat feverishly. He knew he shouldn’t care that you were gone, but he couldn’t help it. No matter which way he spun it, He was still desperately falling for you, even if you had broken his heart. 

He had sat down, his back slumped as he eyed that empty seat with worry. 

How had everything gone so wrong? 

He couldn’t fathom what had gone stray-your love  had honestly felt so real to him. You had told him you had only dated him out of pity-but if somebody was being forced to do something, just to spare someone’s feelings, would they have given him his first kiss so perfectly, making sure to be soft and gentle? Would they have stuck with him late into the night to help study for tests? Or give him sweet kisses on his scars when he was feeling self conscious? 

It just didn’t add up-the feelings you two had were genuine and real. It couldn’t all be one sided like you had said.

He gave another look to that chair, just imagining the ghost of you sitting there, turning around and sending him that infectious smile that light up his whole day.

God, it wasn't even one whole day and he felt so incomplete without you.

Mr. Aizawa walked in, everyone scrambling to their seats and watching him intently, the room getting noticeably more quiet.

He didn’t remember much of that class-he had remembered Mr.Aizawa standing at the front of the class, his deep voice breaking his miserable thoughts when he said the class would be free of one student.

You had seemingly left in the middle of the night, your guardians notifying the school you would no longer be attending UA due to you moving. All of Class 1-A was incredibly confused, including Kirishima- you had never said you were moving, yet you somehow were just gone. As if you never existed.

It just didn’t add up to Kirishima-you would have said something about moving, or at least acted strange the weeks prior. All these events just didn’t make sense to Kirishima-the break up, your confession, you leaving-it all just didn’t add up. But he was too tired, too wrecked inside to think about it anymore. The more he tried to piece the story together the more it gnawed at him, making him feel so much more worse than he already felt. He slumped in his chair, knowing full well everyone was staring at him-you were his boyfriend after all, he should have known.

Oh wait-ex.

He slumped in his chair even more, barely the tips of his spiky red hair poking up from the desk table.

It was gonna be a long few weeks for him, he could already feel it.

Now he was past all those days of crying and breaking over you-some days he could actually forget about you and not have to worry. But on days that were permanently etched into his mind, like today, he couldn’t help but remember. 

Kirishima's phone began to ring, the vibration of the call making the phone jitter against the wood of his desk. He tore himself away from the calendar, his hands instantly swiping to take the call once he saw the Caller ID.

“Hey Fat, how's it going!” Kirishima forced a smile, his voice preppy and bright as if nothing had ever happened.

“Kirishima, thanks for taking the call,” his mentor seemed to breathe a sigh of relief hearing his bright voice on the other end.

Since Kirishima was in his 3rd year, he was required to do another work study, for an even longer period of time than before. So when he was asked by Fatgum to come join the agency once again, he couldn’t help but say no. He had loved his old mentor back from his 1st year, even if he did get pretty banged up at the end of his work study. He was more than happy to join his agency again, and wanted nothing more to learn and grow to be the best hero he could be.

“I know this is pretty late in the day for you,” Fatgum continued, “but I’m going to need your help,”

“Tamaki was supposed to be patrolling on the West side of town tonight, but he got called in to help with a robbery on the North side. I don’t have anybody else to take his place, so I was hoping you could take over his shift for the night,”

“Of course! I’ll do anything you need,” Kirishima propped his phone into the crook of his neck, already rummaging around his room for his hero suit.

“You're a lifesaver Kirishima!” Fatgum exclaimed, the toothy grin he was most likely sporting practically audible.“See ya for training tomorrow then!”

“You too, Fat,” Kirishima's cheerful tone waned, a sad smile replacing his bright grin as he stared down at his hero suit.

He had already known today was going to be a tough day for him, and the fact that he was off from any type of hero work that would make him forget about his sadness didn’t help. 

But now that Fatgum has given him a job tonight, he might be able to erase his mind of all the past heart ache for the next few hours. He gave himself a small smile, his hero suit beckoning him to put it on, the reds and blacks calling to him like ghosts from a dream.

He was gonna at least try to forget-just for the night.

It was now an hour before the end of his shift, and he was feeling practically tired.

The West side of town was relatively quiet, nowhere near the crime riddled areas of the North side of the city boulevard. He knew these streets well from patrolling them almost every night of his hero study, knowing each alleyway and path like the back of his hand. 

Tonight was silent, only a few late night joggers or the occasional fast food joint open for any customers getting the late night munchies. 

It was soft, provincial, and bitter sweet. 

He was trying his best to not remember, to not remember your face, or your smile, or the way you would laugh so warmly whenever he did something amusing. He was trying not to imagine you standing by his side, your hand grabbing his and your shoulder resting  on his, a happy sigh escaping your lips. 

Why were still haunting him, even three months later? 

why couldn’t he just forget about you? 

A crash and a yell snapped Kirishima out of his memory, an angry scream of a teen being heard from the late night restaurant. 

He shook his head to rid himself of those unwanted thoughts, noticing a black figure running across the parking lot into an alleyway at lightning speed.

“That-that Villian!” She shrieked, her friends trying to soothe her as she continued on her rampage, “She stole my wallet! My damn wallet! The hell-“

“Don’t worry ma’am, I’ll get it back for you, don’t worry!” He yelled towards the group, his voice warm and assuring as he sent her a toothy grin. His feet began pounding the pavement, disappearing into the alleyway in the direction of the criminal.

Your breath came out in painful huffs, your hand fumbling to put the wallet into the jacket of your Villian suit. 

Damn Shigaraki and his “plans.”

Shigaraki has now concocted up his next bright idea  for the League, this time relying on you stealing an ID card from a college student that looked similar to you. 

While the LOV was going off stealing a bank for some extra cash, you were told to go find someone who looked similar to you in order to pass as them. for what you had no idea, but you knew Shigaraki would be extremely mad with you if you didn’t do what he asked. You shivered at the thought of him, those cold red eyes like bloody daggers ripping into your flesh. 

You slowed to a stop, your breath coming out in pants as you pulled down the mask on your face, your breath finally free from the constricting fabric.

God you hated running.

Nobody seemed to be following you though, footsteps inaudible to your ears. You slinked into a dark corner of the alleyway, your hands rummaging inside the wallet for the ID card you desperately needed.

Cash, credit card, a picture of her and possibly her boyfriend,a shit ton of gift cards-

You breathed a sigh of relief, flicking out the desired card with a flourish. In the low light conditions you were in, it was hard to see her details, but you knew that it matched your complexion just enough to pass by.

Thank God, now Shigaraki wouldn’t be on your ass-

“Hey, it’s not cool to steal, man,” you heard a familiar voice echo throughout the concrete walls of the alleyway, making your blood run cold.

Shit, please not be him, anybody but him-

You instantly tugged your mask over your mouth and nose, praying to God it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was another hero, or somebody that just resembled him-

“Just give me back what you stole, and nothing bad will happen to ya,” Kirishima continued, his footsteps slow and solemn as he walked over to you, as if you were a wounded animal that could attack at any moment.

You shoved the wallet hastily into your jacket pocket, looking around, desperate for a way out.

Damn it-you were completely blocked from the back, a tall cement wall blocking your escape. The only way for you to get out was to somehow dodge Kirishima and make a run for it, or fight him.

God definitely had his favorites, and it obviously wasn’t you.

This boy was so quiet-all that hero training made him extremely agile, like a cat going forward it’s prey  as he continued to walk towards you cautiously. 

It was a shock to see him-he looked so much older, his handsome face making your heart squeeze painfully. He still sported his iconic red hair to match his suit, the only thing really changing was the amount of scars on his body. When you two had dated, you were so close to him you knew every valley, ditch, and scar on his body like your own.

He was getting stronger and tougher, growing to his goal while you were stuck in your life, still just a little pawn in Shigarakis decaying hands.

You didn’t feel like fighting him-you still felt guilty for the way you had ended things with him, even though it was weeks after. You knew it had to be done in order to protect him, but you also knew it had hurt him to the point of no return.

 He had to have hated you now, and honestly, you didn’t blame him-it just hurt to know you lost a love you still felt. And it was your fault.

Kirishima watched your every move, not suspecting a thing-you were just another thug, another puny Villain he had to take down. Even though it was decent fun to take a criminal down, dealing with witnesses, the police, and paperwork was quite the opposite. But it’d get his mind off of his own misery.

The Villain seemed strange though-as if they were terrified by the mere sight of him. They weren’t even trying to bad mouth him, which was a definite first for him. It was hard to see in the dark alleyway, but he could make out the outline of the thief trying to quickly dodge him, trying to break into a run to get out of the cramped dead end.

Kirishima swiftly grabbed the arm of their leather jacket, pulling your squirming body close to his.

You were screaming internally-he needed to let go, he had to let go. Your heart felt like it was ripping apart, the sudden memories flooding your body as you remembered how it felt to be so close to him, to be so intimate you could see the flecks of brown in his vermillion red eyes. You didn’t want him to realize it was you, to see you as his enemy yet again. You couldn’t bear to see the heartbreak and disappointment in his eyes, your hands clawing to get away.

“Hey-just calm down a little-“ he huffed out, the words separated as he tried to keep a hold on your body.

It was strange to him though-you weren’t even talking, not a peep was spilling out of your lips. You seemed pretty young, and by your smaller frame, you were most likely female. You seemed 

so scared, your eyes bright with desperation and fright. 

His larger hands kept you close to him, his heart pinging with hurt-

There was no way this was you. He was going crazy-those weren’t your eyes.

But God, they looked so familiar-your eyes looked exactly like that the day you two broke up. Full of fear and sadness and guilt-

This wasn’t you, this couldn’t be you, but-if it was-

With one hand firmly wrapped your waist and another shakily reaching toward your mask, your body fighting desperately to get him to stop. Even through your attempts, he pulled the material gently off your skin, The flimsy black mask falling to the ground pitifully. your face looking down at the ground with embarrassment, now knowing your cover was blown.

Kirishima's heart beat painfully-it was you, this was you.

What had happened?

“Y-y/n?” He stuttered out, his voice caught pitifully in his throat.

You swallowed thickly, trying to shove the dry ball of embarrassment down your throat.

“H-hi Kiri,” 

He quickly let go of you, his body blocking your exit as he stared at you in disbelief.

You looked so different, so unlike you-you were wearing a completely black outfit, the material shiny like wet rocks near a dark river. Your hair was pulled back painfully tight, your eyes looking down at your scuffed combat boots in despair.

You looked so defeated and so sad, as if there was no happiness left in your body.

Who even were you?

“What happened to you? Why are stealing? Where have you even been?” He bombarded you with questions, his voice getting more and more authoritative and desperate as questions flooded his mind.

You couldn’t even think to comprehend an answer to any of them-you just needed to forget this encounter ever happened. For your and Kirishima’s sanity and, most importantly, safety.

“Just let me go Kirishima,” you dodged his question, taking a step forward to push your way out of the alleyway.

Kirishima's body was bigger and stronger though, and with each shuffle you attempted he would close the gap between you two, blocking your escape solely with his body.

“No, I-I need answers y/n,” he replied. His voice sounded so hurt, so full of anguished you felt your heart break a little more. He was still hurting, and now he was confused, seeing you all dressed up and committing crimes like a low level Villian. 

“I need to know what happened to you.”

You faulted in your step, staring at Kirishima with wide, mournful eyes. You made yet another attempt to surpass him, your shoulder a mere centimeters away from his as you tried to walk past him.

“Nothing happened Kirishima, please just let me-“

If you thought you were going to leave that easily, you were crazy. 

He swiftly grabbed your arm, his calloused hands rough against the leather of your jacket. Even through the thick material you could feel how warm he was-he always radiated such heat and brightness.

“Why did you leave UA?” He was abrupt with his question, but the hint of softness faltered his harsh exterior-he was still worried for you.

A deep sigh cascaded from your lips, your brow starting to sweat. You were tired of dealing with this heavy burden, this spider web of lies you had created for your own self. You still loved Kiri, yes, but your relationship was over and done. There was really no fear of judgement anymore. Hell, he just saw you steal a wallet like a low level thug-how much more could he judge you in this moment?

“You want the truth Kiri?” Your voice was blunt, and monotone, a shield from your true emotions. 

“You want to know who I really am? I-I’m a Villian. I work for the LOV. I only went to UA because I had to listen to Shigaraki. He needed info and I was the only one to do it.”

You sneaked a peek at Kirishima's face, a slight grimace on your lips as you anticipated the look of disgust on his face. Your heart thumped painfully, waiting for him to look at you with revulsion, but-it never came. His bright vermillion eyes still stared down at you softly, his eyes coated with worry and sympathy. 

“So-you were being forced?”

“At first I wanted to do it-b-but after I while, I started to change my mind,” 

he was so warm, his body heat seeping into your cold skin like a fire on a winter's night. Even now, in this dark alley, exactly 3 months from your terrible breakup-he still could make you feel safe. He was your home in the snow storm, so warm and comforting when the rest of the world was so unforgiving and icy. You relished the feeling of his calloused palms on your body, wishing those hands were on your skin instead of your jacket so they could  slowly  warm your whole body with their wonderful  heat.

“Then why did you leave?”

You gulped, licking your lips tentatively. Did you really want to tell him the truth? Tell him how weak you truly were? You honestly didn’t, a part of you screaming to just feed him a lie that would satiate you both-but the thought of living with even more of a guilty conscience made your mouth go dry. He didn't deserve another lie-after all you did to him, Kirishima deserved the truth. 

“I-I didn’t want to get hurt. I didn’t want you to get hurt. If Shigaraki found out I was considering leaving the LOV, he would have done anything in his power to keep me.”

“You don’t know the League like I do. When I mean he would do anything-he would do anything-including killing.”

Kirishima's eyes momentarily widened, the brutal words cutting the air like a knife. It didn’t surprise him, though-he was a hero in training after all. He had been in too many dangerous run ins with villians-hell, he couldn’t even count how many times he could have died just in his first year at UA. Death was a recurring threat in Kirishima's life, and , for better or worse, it didn’t scare him as much as it used to.

“Kiri-I-I lied to you to keep you safe. You meant the world to me-You still do. I still think about you all the time, and I know you probably hate me, but I still love you. I never stopped.”

He watched your eyes turn down in shame, your head hanging low as if you were carrying a great burden. It was painstakingly obvious you were feeling guilty and remorseful, and his heart throbbed at the thought that of you being forced to continue on with this life. We all made dumb mistakes when we were younger-you shouldn’t have to keep the burden of your past decisions still. 

As much as he felt sympathy for you, he couldn't help but feel so happy that you still had feelings for him. No matter how he spun it, he still cared for you and loved you with all his heart-hearing The same thoughts come from you just made him fall for you even more.

He gingerly took your chin in his hands, his calloused digits lifting your sullen head in order for him to look at you fully. Even when you looked so downtrodden, you were absolutely beautiful to him, and he couldn’t help but smile.

“God, take the words right out of mouth, huh?”

Kirishima's heartbeat feverishly in his chest-what he was about to do was so incredibly risky, but he had to do it. Too many nights he spent dreaming and remembering you, the memories bitter sweet. Now that he had you in front of him, he was going to take any chance he could go get those sensations back in his life.

Kirishima placed his lips gently on yours, knocking the wind out of your lungs. You couldn’t breathe-it was like you were drowning on his essence-yet you couldn’t careless. Warmth filled your stomach, fueling all over your body like a hot flame. It was so comforting and surreal to be feeling this again, to have Kirishima's hot lips pressed against yours.

He parted from you, both of you buzzing with electricity. It was surprising how much truth that kiss held-it melted the cocoon you two had around your hearts, allowing you two to see how much you had truly missed each other.

“ Y/n, I miss you, I knew that night you said you didn’t love me, something wasn’t right,” he spoke, his breath fanning your lips gently. “I knew there was more than what you were letting on.”

Kirishima grabbed your arms suddenly, looking you square in the face with intense eyes.

“ Y/n, you should have left then and there! We would have protected you! I would have protected! I promise I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you-“

“Y/n, you need to leave them, please,”

You sighed, hating how quickly the air thickened with the remembrance of your current situation. 

“Kiri, I don’t want anybody to potentially get hurt because of my dumbass decisions, I’m fine, I can handle myself-“

“Y/n, no your not fine! Look at you-,”he motioned to your clothing and your sullen face, “this isn’t you at all! 

“Kiri, please, don’t give me false hope-“ you shoved him off, wrapping your arms around your body to protect yourself. If you didn’t get control of yourself, you would follow his words in a heartbeat. As much as you would love to run into the strong arms of Kirishima, for him to warm your numb body with his positive energy- you knew it was dangerous. You didn’t want anybody to get hurt over you.

“It isn’t false hope though….” He smiled sweetly at you, his hand stretched out to you, “please, just take my hand, Kay? Nothing bad will happen, I promise,”

You stared at him long and hard, your eyes wide with fear and uncertainty-he was so genuine, so warm, so forgiving. He wanted to help you, he was willing and ready. He wanted to fight the world with you by his side, to protect the people he needed to protect with his loving energy. Kirishima had a way of making you believe anything that came out of his mouth, and you were falling for his spell. You didn’t know if it was the shock from seeing him after so long, his kiss, or just from wanting to leave so badly, but you stretched out your hand, ready for him to take you away.

a cruel, scraggly voice boomed from the shadows, “He promises to keep his little love bird safe.”

“How touching.”

You two spun your heads around at the sound of the ominous voice, your blood running cold.

“Shigaraki,” you gasped out, your eyes glued onto your leader. 

He was smiling a sick grin, his expression sadistic and cruel as he stood in a few paces away from you two. He was clothed in his Villain suit, his clothes tattered and dark like the Grim Reaper himself.

 Spinner and Twice were standing close by, surveying the scene from above as Shigaraki sauntered to you two. Kirishima's expression instantly turned from softness to determination, his body instantly turning to shield yours.

“Oh no need to act so heroic hero,” he grinned, his tone sickeningly sweet life cough syrup.

“Just give us our comrade and we’ll be on our way.”

“You're not going anywhere with her!” Kirishima yelled, his quirk activating in his arm as he shielded you from Shigaraki. “She doesn’t want to be with you scumbags anymore!”

“I’d watch your tone if I were you, especially for trying to defend a spineless traitor like her.”

Kirishima's face turned red in anger, his whole body now turning as solid as a rock as he charged your former leader.

“You piece of-“ 

Shigaraki continued the sick grin plastered on his face as Spinner and Twice instantly jumped from their positions, grabbing Kirishima's arms and roughly slamming him into the nearby wall. You heard the air forces out of Kirishima's lungs, his face contorted in pain. Your heart felt as if it was getting stabbed as you watched Kirishima struggle against their holds.

“Kirishima!” You screamed, your body yelling at you to help him-but you knew you couldn’t take on those two by yourself, not even including Shigaraki.

You turned to the villainous man in front of you, your eyes pleading.

“Shigaraki, please, tell them to let him go-let him go!”

He took a step toward you, his footsteps ringing slowly like the ticks of an old clock.

“Oh, I will,” he replied, his voice low and sadistic, “-when you rejoin the League.

“ I’d kill you right now for being such a selfish brat if I didn’t need you-so take it as a gift. I’ll spare your life if you just come-“

“Never,” you spat at him, fear filling your stomach with your defiance. You were surprised to hear how steady your voice was, but the slight Tremble in your fists said otherwise.

“Fine then,” he smirked, “suit yourself-“

With a wave of his decaying hands, Spinner and Twice began to use their full force on Kirishima-punching, kicking, anything to torture him. He was trying his best to block them, even with his quirk-but they were quite strong, especially once Twice used his quirk to produce more of his own body. It quickly began evident that Kirishima was having a hard time to fight off the villains, his Stance slowly becoming weaker and weaker as his face began to bruise and his arm dusted with his own blood.

You were hopeless to just watch, watching your worst fear come to life-people we’re already getting hurt over you.

Anger filled your stomach, licking up your body like hot flames as you turned to charge Shigaraki, fire in your eyes.

“Stop it you crusty ass-“ you yelled out, your fists out as you tried to land a punch on the Villian.

He seemed to know your exact movements though, his hands harshly grabbing your wrists and mouth, colliding your body with his.

“I’d watch that mouth of yours if I were you, unless you want it to disintegrate-along with the rest of you-“

Shit.

You had momentarily forgotten about Shigaraki’s dangerous quirk-one wrong move and you could be a heap on the ground, nothing more. The fingers around your mouth were delicate, knowing full well you wouldn’t try and escape. They drummed playfully against your mouth, as if taunting you to do something foolish. You felt how cold he was, the feeling of his chapped skin on yours disgusting as he toyed with your life in his hands. 

It was all a game for him-and he was winning.

“Look at him-“ Shigaraki ordered, the grip around your mouth suddenly tightening as he twisted your head to face Kirishima's misery.  

“You caused this, y/n. All this pain, all this suffering. If you leave, he will be the first we target. Well slowly go after each and every person you have ever loved, until we finally come for you.”

“Now, you don’t want that, do you?”  He asked, his face tilting in order to see your answer. You forced yourself to not look at him, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing the small tears running down your cheeks. 

All you could muster was a small shake of your head, the vibration of your movement going through Shigarakis finger tips.

Through the fists and clones he was trying to fight off, Kirishima could see you shaking your head, Shigaraki looking practically happy by your answer. A sinking feeling filled Kirishima's stomach as he saw your body language slouch in defeat. He Tried to call at you, to stop you from agreeing to whatever was coming out of Shigarakis lying lips, but at that moment one of the clones landed a solid punch to his stomach. Kirishima felt all the air leave out of his lungs , his knees wobbling and hitting the floor as his head spun from the pain.

Shigaraki still had his hold on you, watching how your face crumpled as you watched Kirishima fall and unable to help.

“Good, now, will you come and rejoin?” He asked one last time, motioning for his comrades to move away from Kirishima and back to their spot on the roof of the alleyway.

He knew now he had you under his finger, knowing the show he had just made you watched instilled enough fear for you to never leave his team again. He watched your eyes cower to give one last look at Kirishima's crumpled body, your shoulders tense with stress.

“I-I’ll rejoin the League,” you whispered out, feeling the hold Shigaraki had on you loosen. 

It was tearing you up inside to see Kirishima so bruised and hurt on the ground-you focused on the signs of him breathing, his broad chest rising and falling as he struggled to push himself back up. That small evidence gave you courage, your heart racing as you will yourself to continue with the plan you had secretly been concocting this whole time.

You grunted, a sly smirk erupting on your face.

“After I do this-“

You swiftly grabbed Shigarakis arm, twisting it in an excruciating position behind his back. He yelled out in pain, a string of curses filling the night as you rammed your fist into his chest, sending the air out of his lungs. He stumbled dramatically, dry coughs spewing out of his lungs as his knees hit the floor. 

“You no longer have power over me-none of you do,” you stood defiantly in that alleyway, watching your ex comrades stare at you in shock and awe. In all your time with the LOV, you had never defied them. Not once. You were always so obedient, which was why Shigaraki loved to have you around as a n asset to his team-you were so easy to keep around his finger. 

But now you were clearly being rebellious, your stony face telling the whole group you had changed-you didn’t give a damn about their threats and their rules anymore. You wouldn’t be coming back.

A burst of fear and extreme annoyance flooded Shigarakis' system, the pain of your kick aiding fuel to the flame. He growled, a curse directed at you dribbling from his lips as his thin legs wobbled his body weight up. His mouth opened to send you another string of curses, ready to unleash his full wrath on you for embarrassing him so much, until a characteristic siren filled the night air.

Kirishima propped himself onto his knees, a tried grin gracing his bruising lips.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you-“

His hand lifted, showing the whole group a small contraption in his hand. In the darkness of the alleyway it was hard to tell what it was, but it seemed Kirishima was holding a phone, a route to your location lighting up the screen.

“My mentor gave all us heroes-in-training a tracker, just in case we get into any trouble. While you were blabbering on about plans, I sent the heroes our location.”

Kirishima smiled triumphantly at the fearful faces of Shigaraki’s comrades, Shigarakis own fave contorted in rage. 

The sirens were slowly getting louder, the colors of blue and red dancing lightly against the stony walls of the alley way.

“So unless you wanna get caught by the heroes,” he added in, his tone surprisingly friendly, “ I suggest you go.”

Shigaraki seemed waver, trying to see if he could still get you back under the terrible circumstances. But the cops were practically here, the sounds of car doors slamming being heard. He had to admit it to himself-he lost this battle. He gave you one last scornful look, his bloody irises sending a shiver down your spine as he took off with his comrades, not leaving a trace.

You could already hear the police officers stepping out of their cars, fear flooding your stomach. Even though you had just defied the League, you were still a criminal. You had been doing illegal activities for months now-hell, you just stole a girls wallet 15 minutes ago and it was still in your damn pocket.

Even though a part of you was screaming for you to run as well, you fought off that flight response in order to help Kirishima off the floor.

His skin still feels warm, your hands making sure not to touch the tender parts of his skin from his fight. Even though he was smiling, you could tell he was in some pain. Your worst fear was already being realized-he got hurt over you. For you. You could never repay him for that, the guilt seeping into your core. 

“Kiri are you okay? Please tell me you are,” you pushed out, the tone of your voice desperate and pleading. “I’m so sorry-“

Kirishima looked up, his vermillion eyes as bright as ever as he caresses your cheek, sweeping the single tear off your face.

 “For what? You did nothing wrong y/n, you don’t have to be so sad over me-this is my job after all!” He chuckled, trying to lighten the mood as you began to help him stand up. He was slightly wobbly on his feet but seemed to be doing just fine. 

He gave you a small smile, a hint of worry in his eyes as he heard footsteps coming behind him.

“Just-let me do the talking, Kay?” He waited for you to give him a nod, his hands giving yours a gentle squeeze.

“Do you still have the wallet you stole?”

“The-? Oh, yeah, I do,” you stated quickly, the wallet resurfacing in your mind as you rummaged in your jacket, pulling it out and shoving it into his hand.

“Thanks,” he smiled at you, his cheeks warm as he faltered for the smallest second. 

It was evident he wanted to lean in and kiss you-the way he stared at your lips was quite evident and brought a blush to your cheeks. 

But Kirishima was still on duty, and couldn’t be so openly romantic when he was in his hero suit as well being approached by law enforcement. He instead opted to kiss your cheek, the smooth skin of his lips warming your whole body as he walked over to greet the police officer. 

Kirishima has spoke to the police officer for quite a while, a few others watching close behind as they surveyed you. You felt strange, standing there so alone as you watched Kirishima talk to the officer so warmly. 

You didn’t know what he was saying, or what he was doing, but you were hoping he was somehow sweet talking the officers. You watched him point to you at one point, his warm smile assuring your terrified face as the officer looked you up and down tentatively.

He motioned you to come over, as if trying to get a frightened animal to come near him. You followed his command, your steps hesitant as you approached the two men.

The officer face was hardened until he saw the look of terror on your face, his expression softening slightly.

“This is her?” He asked gruffly, turning to Kirishima.

“Yes,” he nodded his head in confirmation. “The LOV have been brainwashing her for their plans-she has intel the heroes could use to our advantage. Fat Gum’s agency needs her straight away in order to get that info from her. I promise we will get her in the system and any other information you may need on file.”

The officer gave you two a long look, sighing as he scratched his chin.

“Alright,” he complied, a huge smile erupting on Kirishimas face. “You two need a ride? You look pretty messed up.”

Kirishima gave a small chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Uh-yeah, THAT'D be pretty nice actually-“

After the small car ride to Fat Gum’s agency, you had helped Kirishima out of the car and to Fat Gum’s office at the top floor. It seemed like someone had already alerted Fat Gum to Kirishima's arrival, because you two were instantly met by the pro hero with worried eyes once you reached his office.

“God Kirishima you had me so worried for a second!” He yelled, striding over to the bruised hero, “that receptionist really made it sound like you were in need of medical attention or something-“

“I’m fine Fat, you don’t gotta worry about me!” Kirishima said good naturedly, his perfect teeth glistening in the fluorescent lights. “I actually have some things I need your help with-“

“You definitely do if you're bringing a civilian into the office,” FatGum stared down at you with a warm smile, your heart beating guiltily. It was strange to see the hero in normal clothing in not in his larger form, his stature so much smaller it seemed from his usually large frame.

“The names Fat, but you can call me Taishiro!” He held out his hand in front of you, his bright personality radiating off of him, “and you are-“

“I-I’m y/n, sir,” you said hesitantly, taking your smaller hand in his. He was just as warm as Kirishima, like a bright ball of sun. 

No wonder Kirishima interned with Fatgum-he was just like him. Bright, fun, kind. Everything you so dearly craved for in your life, but couldn't quite grasp.

“I’m sorry, I’m not a civilian-I’m a criminal, a Villian,” you muttered sadly, your head hanging low, “well, I was-“

Fat Gum gave Kirishima a confused look, his happy exterior dropping slightly. 

“She was being forced to be a Villain by Shigaraki,” Kirishima quickly stepped forward, his tone serious as he defended you. “She wanted to leave the LOV, but they were threatening her.

“She didn’t do anything wrong-she just wanted to protect herself and the people around her.”

Fat Gum scratched the side of his cheek, his eyes lost in thought.

“Well Thats a strange situation to be in-I’m assuming you two know each other?”

You looked at Kirishima, red blossoming your cheeks just like his. 

Maybe it wasn’t the best time to tell his mentor that you had dramatically broke up with Kirishima over 3 months ago.

“We uh-“ Kirishima started, his voice wavering in uncertainty.

“We were classmates,” you chided in quickly, “I went to UA along with Kirishima, but the LOV forced me to leave the school.”

Fat Gum nodded his head, a sigh escaping his lips. “So-you’ve been working as a Villain, but against your will?”

You nodded your head, your breath caught in your throat as you awaited for the hero's reaction to this news of your true identity.

“This will get a little fuzzy legal wise, especially if people are looking for you-some may not trust what you say, even if you left the League and do everything in your power to change their minds.”

“Don’t worry though, I believe you,” the hero placed his hand in your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “I believe Red Riot full heartedly in his perception of others and I’m pretty good at reading people too. I can tell youre not what the League tried to make you into.”

He sent you a warm grin, making you feel safe for what had felt like a long time.

“Would you be willing to answer questions about the League? about how they operate, how large they are, their plans-“

“Yes, anything to end them and help the heroes,” you answered quickly, your tone set in determination, “I’d be willing to do all of it.”

“Well that settles it!” Fat Gum said happily, the smile back on his face. “Tomorrow we’ll start talking to you about your experience with the League-but you two seem to need a well deserved nap.”

“Why don’t you keep her in your apartment Kirishima?” FatGum turned to the hero, Kirishimas dusted in pink by the proposition. “Shell feel

a little more comfortable since you're someone she knows, and she’s also close to the agency.”

Fat Gum gave you a soft smile, his eyes filled with reassurance. “Heroes will be around all day and all night, so nobody can come in and out.”

It surprised you how intuitive the hero was-he knew exactly how you were feeling. 

Even though you knew it was foolish, you still felt that somehow the League would find you and try to bring you back. You had clearly defied them, and it scared you that they be trying to get their revenge. 

But Fatgums charming smile was so reassuring and welcoming, you couldn’t give him a small smile back.

“I think I can manage that arrangement.”

“Good then,” he gave you two one last smile, ushering you two out the door, “make sure to get some rest-tomorrow will definitely be a long day. Make sure those injuries are doing well too, alright?”

You both gave the hero a curt response, turning your backs from the now closed doors.

Kirishima's heart began to beat intensely, his stomach filling with butterflies.

You had agreed to stay in his room? God, if someone had told him a few hours ago you’d be staying the night with him, he’d wouldn’t believe it for a second. But now this was happening, and he couldn’t be more ecstatic or nervous.

He stared at your profile, not missing the dusting of red on your cheeks-you were nervous too? It made him feel a little better inside, a small smile gracing his lips as he stretched out his hand.

“You ready?”

You looked down at the outstretched sha s in front of you, taking his palm in yours tentatively.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” 

He lead you through the agency, taking an elevator a few levels down in order to get to the apartments specifically for the heroes in training.

It was a short trip, but the fatigue that wa a beginning to hit your body was making it feel so much longer. The adrenaline rush you had felt all night was wearing off, your eyes fluttering as you will yourself to stay awake.

Kirishima noticed your sleepy state, a small chuckle escaping from his chest.

“You feeling tired?”

“Just-a little,” you yawned out, wrapping your hands around your body.

“Don’t worry-were almost at my place,” he gave you a sweet smile, his hands outstretched for yours as the elevator door opened. You took it gratefully, letting him lead you to his door as he opened it with ease.

You stepped inside, adjusting from the darkness as you took in the sight in front of you.

The room smelled of him-the warm and musky scent ofhis cologne lingering in the air. It was almost teasing you with its memories, a wave of comfort washing over you as you recalled all the times you buried your nose into his neck and smelled his scent. 

His room was pretty neat, surprisingly, his desk organized and his walls decorated with a few posters. You recognized some from his old room at UA-a Crimson Riot, his favorite band, and even a calendar he used to use frequently.

Some areas of his room signaled the busy life of his work stidy, his unmade bed strewn with clothing he had hastily ripped off, a small pile of clothes in a pile and his laptop charging in a corner of the room.

Kirishima cursed himself as he looked around the room, painstakingly noticing every little detail and mess, hating how he hadn’t cleaned up his room that day.

“Sorry for the mess, I didn’t expect to have anyone,” he chuckled nervously, already going around and picking up his things.

“It’s fine-I like it,” 

You were speaking the truth when you said it-you liked how it was so him, showing a glimpse into his daily life. It was warm and comforting, even residential, to see him in his day to day life.

“You do?”

You hummed a “yes”, feeling your heart beat fast when Kirishima closed the gap between you two, his palms gently grasping your arms. He breathed in a deep sigh, holding you close.

“God, you don’t know how much I missed you,” he sighed out breathlessly.

“I missed you too Kiri,” you looked down, old guilt resurfacing inside you, “I’m still sorry for being so-so mean to you-I should have just told you the truth, I shouldn't have lied-“

Kirishima smiled softly, lifting your chin with his finger.

“Don’t worry about that! That was in the past-now it’s just you and me, kay? You don’t have to worry about any of that, now”

He gave you a long look, sorry buried in his brows as you ran his fingers along your skin, feeling the bags under your eyes. You inhaled a deep breath, loving the electricity Kirishima set into your skin just from his touch.

“You really are tired, huh?” He asked quietly, his voice husky from exhaustion himself.

“And you're not?” You gave him a quirky smile, making him blush with a chuckle.

“Well, I didn’t say that,” he gave you a small grin, his hands returning back to their spots on your arms.

“Do you wanna sleep? You can take the bed if you want-I know it’s not made, but I can sleep on the couch if you’d like-“

“I want to sleep with you,” you replied softly, your eyes widening once you realized what you had just said.

You wanted to sleep with him? God, you sounded so perverted! 

“I-I mean I want to go to bed with you-I didnt mean-I just didn’t want to make you sleep somewhere else, since this your room-“

Kirishima's face was incredibly red, but the smile was still plastered on his face.

“Oh it’s alright, I really don’t mind either way.“

He pulled himself away from you gently, as he began searching through his dresser for some clothes.

“So-bed together?”

“Yup!” You replied back, popping the p as You sat on the unmade bed, your fingers dragging against the plus fabric as Kirishima turned around, sitting in front of you as he handed you one of his shirts.

“I know you don’t have any pajamas, so you can wear one of my shirts until we get you some clothes.”

“Mm, sounds good,” you smiled tenderly, loving how close he was as you ran your hands through his hair.

He sighed into your touch as he nuzzled into your skin, his breath warm against your skin.

He sat there for a few moments, finally rising sluggish and slow.

“Gotta move-or I’ll fall asleep right there,” he chuckled, walking over to the front of his closet. He began to take off the pieces of his hero suit, the large gears on his arms hitting the floor with a thud.

You admired how broad his shoulders were, the way his muscles rippled so evidently as he moved his bones to his will. He was so perfectly built, you could t help but drool at the firmness of his skin.

“Having fun over there?,” he turned around, a shit eating grin plastered on his face as he undid the belt around his waist.

“Just a little,” you gave him a small grin, hear flooding your face as you held the shirt close to your chest.

“You can go change in the bathroom if you’d like-you don’t have to stay out here if you’re not comfortable,” 

“And what if I am?” 

You laughed at the clearly evident blush on his cheeks, his face trying to hide the rush of embarrassment.

“Your a handful,” he chuckled, his hand running through his hair nervously.

He knew you were joking, and you two had only sorta, maybe gotten back together lass than an hour ago-but damn if he wasn’t nervous and excited by you being so flirtatious-in his room. 

For the rest of the night. 

You gave him one last smile before you disappeared into the bathroom, your hands closing the door gently.

God, it felt so nice to be in his arms again, to feel safe and warm. You had missed the fluttering feeling Kirishima gave you, like you could fly away  at any moment and you could care less. You brought your nose to the cloth of the worn shirt, the powerful smell of his detergent and cologne washing over you. It was so comforting, a nostalgic feeling filling your body as you remembered how much you missed his scent. 

You quickly stripped of your clothes, happy to be free of the uncomfortable garments finally. Since Kirishima didn’t hand you any shorts to wear, you decided to only wear the shirt he had given you over your underwear. The softness of the shirt felt so relaxing against your tired skin, almost like getting a hug from the boy himself. You smiled a deep sigh, happy to see that the shirt was long enough to at least cover your underwear from plan view and you splashed your face with some cold water, rinsing away all the fears from tonight.

You would have a long day tomorrow answering questions about the League-you could at least give yourself tonight to forget and be worry free.

Kirishima was hastily changing before you came out of the bathroom, dreading the idea of you seeing him half naked as he swapped out of his hero suit. He opted to wear something comfortable, grey sweatpants and an old black tshirt, his body running frantically to clean his room. Now that he got the chance to properly clean his room, he was a mad man trying to make it to his liking. He shoved clothes into his closet, made his bed, even hiding cords under his bed. 

If you were going to be in his room, he was at least going to give off some impression of him being neat.

He was now laying on his newly made bed, his hands occupied with checking his phone as he heard the bathroom door opening, your footsteps soft on the carpet of his room.

He looked up, a question about to fall from his lips until his mind went completely blank at the sight of you.

There you were, standing in his room, looking as beautiful as ever wearing his shirt and nothing else. He couldn't help but stare at your legs, worshipping the curves as his mouth was agape from awe.

He didn’t fully prepare himself at the sight of you in his clothes, but god did you wear them so perfectly-

“You okay Kiri?” You gave a nervous laugh, striding over to the bed, settling your knees on the plush comforter.

The shirt road up from the movement t, showing more of those pretty thighs of yours that made him practically drool.

“Ne-never been better!” He tried to compose himself, his voice rising slightly.

God, he needed to get ahold of himself.

“You look pretty comfy,” he gave a small comment on your outfit, loving how bashful you look at the comment.

“Of course I am,” you replied back, crawling over to his side of the bed. He gulped at the sight of you coming so close to him, “I’m in your clothes after all.”

You sat your body next to Kirishima, your hand finding his as your other lightly rested on his stomach. 

“You know, I’ve always thought you looked good in anything,” he smiled, his eyes dark like wine, “but you wearing my clothes-you looked best in that,” 

“Really?” You gave the boy a shit eating grin, knowing full well you were playing a dangerous game now.

This night could end in two different scenarios: one could complicate things, and one could really complicate things.

You’d take the latter, if he was willing.

You shifted your body around him, straddling his waist as his shirt rode up, exposing your thighs even more.

“And what about when they're not on?”

Kirishima's heart beat at an insane pace in his chest-was this wrong to do? He didn’t know and frankly, he didn’t care at that moment.

He returned the smile, his hands traveling underneath the soft shirt.

“Even better.”

Tagging (anyone who commented or asked for a part 2- I tried to get everyone!):

@cellotonin​ @bakugous-forehead​ @lgbtonystarks​ @marrypuffsstuff​ @lady-bakuhoe​ @kurinhimenezu​ @hipster-merchant-of-death​ @hot-pocket01​ @bubblegum-bee-otch​ @kai-charm​

[et-lesailes]

missing linc // chapter three

series masterlist

pairing: ceo!dad!steve x reader

word count: 2950

series summary:  you are a college student working at a daycare full time during your summer break, and you have grown especially fond of one of the toddlers in your class, lincoln rogers. you are certainly not expecting to develop such a huge crush on his dad steve when you meet him for the first time, but you can’t help but be attracted to the businessman– despite the fact that he’s married. however, as intelligent and mature as steve comes across, he has a few secrets behind his marriage- one in particular he may never be able to make up for.

series themes: romance, drama, age gap, infidelity, smut in later chapters

chapter summary: steve and reader start getting to know each other more. while steve is on his business trip, reader is asked to babysit and ends up seeing something she definitely was not meant to see...

taglist:  @viarogers , @evanstush , @chibi-crazy , @chalamet-evans , @world-of-losers , @songforhema, @sebabestianstan101 , @tanyam93 , @bval-1, @wonderwinchester , @little-miss-exo, @poerebel , @pining-and-tired , @gogomez-509 , @patzammit, @a-distantdreamer, @malthestorytellerblog, @rainbowkisses31, @jbug491writinghelp, @quaiderade, @melannie77, @gigistorm, @lille-kattunge, @teller258316, @rohaintahquil, @deidrashouseofpain, @firstangeldragonranch, @peach-acid, @allsortsofinterests, @xoxabs88xox, @honeyloverogers, @capsiclesdoll, @qrndevans, @mcueveryday, @drkstrangeson, @bangtan-serendipity, @heyyouwiththeassbutt, @cptn-sgrogers, @heyiamthatbitch, @captainscanadian, @kaithezaftig, @morganhoran1671, @booktease21, @hista-girl, @steeeeverogers, @okilover02, @collete04, @sadella-adams, @rumoured-whispers, @aletteredaffair, @shannon124, @isawritesstories, @knuffeltuff, @wxntersoldiers, @kelbabyblue, @macgruberrr, @troublermalik, @deepmuffinspymaker

notes: i swear if the taglist notification thing doesn’t work this time i will just resort to sending out an email newsletter to yall like i just am so done w tumblr ok. anyways, just wanted to say thank you guys for all the love and support you’ve been giving me for this fic, and tbh if you wanted to give a little extra tonight i’d really appreciate it because i’m having a suuuuper shitty night. :c

** please send an ask if you would like to be added to the taglist!

For the rest of that week, Steve dropped off and picked up Linc from daycare, much to you and your coworkers’ delight. Besides his enthralling looks, he was a genuinely charming and kind person, and it was easy to keep up conversation with him. He did not come past 6 again, but he did generally come at around 5:45 or 5:50, which still had Linc being the only toddler left in the class with you.

You supposed because it was just the two of you there with Linc and no other children for you to watch, it had been a given that there would be more conversation. He did not have to rush to get anywhere and neither did you, and so each day became hanging around slightly more whether it be in the classroom or out on the parking lot, chatting just a bit more than the day before. You would make sure to clean the room before he got there so he could walk you out, and you couldn’t help but wish this could be an everyday routine-- unfortunately, he had told you he would be traveling again just the next week.

You now knew a little more about him, and he about you. He knew you were a college student, a soon-to-be junior, to be exact. He knew you studied psychology and that you eventually wanted to work with children and child development. He knew where you were from, your favorite foods, hobbies, interests-- mainly the basics, really, nothing too deep. He had told you that he was a CEO of a pharmaceutical company and that he grew up in New York. He liked running and exercise in general (of course) and drawing-- he had even shown you a few photos of some sketches he did in his spare time and you were blown away, especially upon a particularly realistic portrait of Linc as an infant. He had told you that he loved seeing the ocean and that he wanted to be able to take Linc to the beach soon, hoping his son would appreciate the water just as much as he did.

When Sunday night came around, you were a little sad knowing that you would not be seeing Steve the next day. You weren’t even sure when he’d be back-- when you had asked, he said that it depended on how long it would take for him to get his current project done. Still, being with Linc throughout the days felt even more special than it did before. Now that you knew he got so many of his traits from his father, you felt more connected to him thanks to the many conversations you had shared with Steve throughout the past week.

You hadn’t expected to hear from Steve while he was gone; he hadn’t even sent you a message ever since he got your number, probably because he hadn’t needed any babysitting during that time. However, when a random number popped up on your lockscreen with a message underneath it at 1:30 AM on Wednesday, your heart skipped a beat simply from seeing the name that came with it.

Hi Y/N. It’s Steve. How are you?

Why were you acting like a girl with her first crush over this? You had been about to go to sleep, figuring you probably should since you had to be up at 8, but now you simply had to reply. You saved his number to your contacts before texting back.

Y/N: Hi Steve! I’m good, what about you? How’s the Philippines?

The screen showed him typing already, and you couldn’t deny you were pleased. The thought of having his full attention made you feel unnecessarily happy, but you also needed to force yourself to stop thinking about it so much.

Steve: Great. The beaches here are beautiful, I think you’d like them too.

He was already typing again and so you waited, biting your lip as you stared at the screen.

Steve: I told Tiana that you were open to babysitting and she wanted me to check with you if Thursday night would work. Maybe from around 6:30-9:30? She has a dinner event for work.

Y/N: Sure, I’m available that night! I’d love to help

Steve: I’ll let her know. Thank you- how much do you charge?

Y/N: Would $15 an hour work?

Steve: $25 it is ;-) Thanks again. Have a good night, Y/N.

You blinked and widened your eyes, wondering if he had made a typo, though the winky face told you otherwise.

Y/N: Wait, you meant 15 right?

You waited a few moments, but unlike before, no typing bubbles appeared.

Y/N: Just to clarify, 15. Just 15! 25 is too much!

Again, no typing bubbles. You stared at the screen in disbelief, though you couldn’t help but smile. Not because of the extra money, but just because of him. This was not good. You could not be catching feelings for Steve, it made absolutely no sense. You still barely knew the guy, and he was a married man, for God’s sake.

Putting your phone on your nightstand, you sighed as you settled into bed, wondering if you should explore dating options within your school-- anything to get your mind off Steve.

Thursday came around faster than you thought it would. Steve had texted you the address the night before, and you were now on your way there from work-- your boss had actually let you leave slightly early for once, and so you figured you’d just show up and wait in your car so Tiana did not feel rushed. She had seemed grateful to you when she had come to pick Linc up-- she had assured you she would have him fed before you got there, so you would only need to bathe him and get him ready for bed.

When you turned down Steve’s road itself, you were already in shock as you stared at the huge houses lining the street. Of course, Steve’s was at the very end and the most grand of them all, extending father both horizontally and vertically looking like a mansion right out of a movie. As you pulled into the long driveway, you noticed three cars-- Steve’s Mercedes, which made sense because he had probably been dropped off to the airport, and two others. One had to be Tiana’s, perhaps the other was another car they both used? To be honest, you were surprised there weren’t even more cars in the driveway, if that was the case.

You parked in a spot that was out of the way of all three cars, not knowing which one Tiana would use-- the driveway was quite roomy, and even if you were on the far side of it, it was probably the most convenient seeing she’d need to get out. You were parked on the other side of a rather large Range Rover, your much smaller car practically hidden behind it. Checking your phone, you saw that it was only 6. Eh, you could probably just go ahead in-- now that you were already in the driveway, it felt weird to simply sit there. You were about to open the car door when you noticed movement coming from one of the home’s large windows. When you looked towards it, your eyes immediately widened.

There stood Tiana and a male who was certainly not Steve, engaged in a rather steamy lip lock as his hands moved over her waist. She was continuously trying to pull back but giggling at the same time, clearly not bothered by the situation, gladly allowing him to keep pulling her back in for more kisses. You froze, staring in shock before making yourself look away, completely in disbelief. She was cheating on Steve? Who the hell could cheat on Steve? The more you thought about it, the more angry you got, but you took a deep breath. It was not your responsibility to be upset with her or lecture her, but you could tell Steve about what you had seen. In fact, you were itching to at that very moment, but the curtains suddenly closed and you were frozen again. Had she seen you? Did she know that you saw her? Did staying in your car look too suspicious, like you were spying? To make it seem like you had just gotten there, you quickly got out of the car, sliding your phone in your pocket. You could tell him after she left.

Trying to act as normal as possible, you walked up to the front door and rang the bell. She answered moments later, a smile on her face as she opened the door, though you could tell she looked a little nervous. “Hi there, Y/N!” You smiled in return as best as you could. “Hi, Tiana. Sorry I’m a little early, I got off work earlier than expected and figured I’d just head here. Is that okay?”

“Of course,” she assured, perhaps assuming she was in the clear if you didn’t seem like you knew anything. “Linc actually ended up passing out pretty early tonight, he was exhausted after dinner,” she explained as she let you in, and you couldn’t help but discreetly look around while listening to her; where did the man go? “So you can just sit back and relax-- there’s books in the study if you’re into reading, or the TV has Netflix, Hulu, cable, whatever you wanna watch. Oh, and feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen.”

She showed you around the main parts of the house just so you would know where everything was, and although you were still tense about what you had just witnessed, you couldn’t help but marvel at how luxurious this house was. It did not even seem like a toddler lived there until she showed you the playroom, Linc’s nursery where he was fast asleep, and even his own personal bathroom. She showed you where his diapers and other personal items were in case he were to wake up before bringing you back downstairs. You were still extremely confused on where her little “boyfriend” could be, wondering if he had actually snuck out of the house-- until she called out, “David? Are you still in the study?”

‘Wait, what?’ you thought, now even more shocked than before. She was blatantly admitting to having this man in her home? She looked to you with a smile. “David is one of my associates at work. We were just going over a presentation we have tonight.”

‘Is it a presentation on French kissing?’ you thought to yourself in disbelief, seeing she was clearly trying to make it seem like they were only coworkers. “Ah, I see,” you said politely nonetheless, then looked up as David came into the room, dressed in a suit and tie matching the shade of Tiana’s dress. “Hi. My name’s Y/N,” you introduced yourself, and he shook your hand with a smile. “David. Nice to meet you.”

“Alright, we should get going-- wouldn’t hurt to get there early.” Tiana picked up her purse. “Thank you again, Y/N!” You nodded and waved them off, waiting until they left before letting out an exhale and turning around, making your way to the living room. It was a little disappointing that Linc was sleeping, considering you had been excited to play with him, but at the same time, maybe it was for the best. You wouldn’t be able to have this conversation with Steve if you were bathing a hyper one-year-old. Plopping down on one of the leather couches, you took your phone out and typed a message.

Y/N: Hey Steve, are you busy right now? Think you could call me?

You figured telling him over the phone would be better rather than simply in a text, and besides, you did not exactly want potential screenshot evidence that you were involved in this mess, if it were to somehow come back to bite you in the ass. Your phone dinged a few minutes later and you immediately turned it on silent, even though there was no possible way Linc could hear it all the way from his nursery. The only reason you would even be able to hear him was because of the high tech baby monitor on the TV stand.

Steve: In a meeting right now, so unfortunately I can’t at the moment. Why? Is everything okay?

You couldn’t help but take note that he was texting you despite being in a meeting, but then reminded yourself to stay focused.

Y/N: I saw something and I wanted to talk to you about it. Just call me whenever you’re free? Linc is sleeping so I should be able to answer.

Steve: Sounds good. You’re okay though right?

You hated how nice he was, how thoughtful-- only because it was making you more angry that Tiana would have the nerve to cheat on him.

Y/N: Yes I’m okay it’s not about me or anything. Just call me as soon as you can okay?

Steve: Ok. Talk to you soon.

You started scrolling through Instagram to distract yourself, but you still couldn’t believe it. This probably had to do with what Stephanie had been saying about Steve and Tiana seeming to have an odd relationship based on how they acted with one another; had Tiana really been cheating for that long, though? How could she live with herself? You felt so disgusted with her, getting more and more irritated that she couldn’t appreciate what literally any woman in this universe would-- being married to Steve Rogers.

You realized you weren’t even looking at the photos on Instagram but rather absentmindedly continuing to scroll with your thumb; God knows how many you had missed. Sighing, you swiped out of the app and leaned back on the couch, resting your head back and staring up at the ceiling. What would happen now? Were you about to destroy a marriage? You felt guilty thinking about it that way, but it had to be done, right? It was wrong to withhold such information from Steve, he deserved to know.

Thankfully your phone rang, and you answered it almost immediately, just wanting to get this over with. “Hi, Steve. Thanks for calling me…”

“Of course, Y/N. I have a bit of time before my next meeting. What’s going on? I gotta say, you’re worrying me here…”

You wished you could tell him it was alright, but you really couldn’t, and you felt horrible.

“I, uh-- there’s really no easy way for me to say this Steve, but… um, well, I got to your house a little early,” you finally began, trying not to be so tongue tied. “And I saw Tiana in the window and… w-well… she was kissing another guy.”

There was silence for a few seconds, and your heart was racing. Why were you drowning in anxiety over here? You could only imagine how Steve felt in this moment. Was he just going to hang up on you? Was he going to explode? Was he going to cry? You didn’t know him well enough to know how he would take news like this, and each second was killing you.

“I.. see.” He finally spoke, and you bit your lip, wondering if he was maybe still processing. He sounded strangely emotionless, but perhaps that was how he showed his own disappointment or upset feelings. “I-- uh, wow. Thank you for telling me, Y/N.” You blinked. How was he so composed? Was this what being an adult was about? Maybe he was far too mature for you, because had you been in his shoes, you would have probably been flipping out. “Are you okay?” you somewhat blurted out, wondering if he was maybe just bottling up his feelings. “You.. you can talk to me about it, if you want, I mean I know it’s none of my business and that we barely know each other and that I just take care of your son but-- I, I’m sorry, I just--”

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he cut you off, and you swore that based off the sound of his voice, he was even smiling a little. “I really appreciate it. I think I just need some time to process and think about all of this. I wasn’t really expecting a call like this, you know?” You immediately nodded despite the fact he couldn’t see you. “Yeah, yeah of course. I get it. I-- I guess I’ll let you go, then? Again, I’m sorry, I just thought you should know… it felt wrong if I didn’t tell you.”

“Of course. You did the right thing.” Steve assured you, and you felt a weight lifted off your shoulders-- and then you felt guilty for even having that weight there in the first place. You had no reason to be feeling as if you were the burdened one from this. You wanted to help him as best as you could, but he was right. He needed some time to himself. “I’ll talk to you later, Y/N.”

You said your goodbyes and hung up, a loud sigh escaping your lips. You were still in shock over how… calm he was. Part of you wanted to sneak up to his and Tiana’s room to try and snoop around for more information, but you knew that was going too far. If anything, his maturity about the situation was actually somewhat inspiring, and so you picked up the remote and turned the TV on, telling yourself to stop thinking about it.

[twinklecheeks]

Friends With Benefits (Jeff Wittek Imagine) Part 3

Summary: Jeff and Y/N have been hooking up for a while. The whole vlog squad assumes they’re dating and Y/N does too but Jeff doesn’t like labels. He eventually starts to express interest in Natalie.

Note: Sorry I always post at night! I usually take the day to type and then release it at night. Planning on making this a multiple part series, depending on how good it does. You’re 21 & Latina in this (maybe) series. Also, I’d like to apologize for the typos, if there is any. I’m just illiterate lmao.  

Warnings! pregnancy.

Part 1, Part 2

Word Count: 1.9k

For the past week, you’ve been trying to figure out ways of telling the vlog squad that you’re pregnant… Would it be easier just to tell everyone at one or do one/two people at a time? UGH WHY DOES THIS HAVE TO BE SO DIFFICULT. You have to tell them asap because you’ll be able to know the gender in a month and you want them to be there. You decide to do something different for every couple of people in the squad but before you do, it’s time for your first ultrasound!

The last time you got this done, you were 9-10 weeks pregnant, so you were LATE finding out you were pregnant. You wanted to find the best doctor you can find and luckily, Kylie set you up with the same one she had. You brought Stass and Kylie to the appointment because they begged you. Doctor: *walks in* Hey y/n how are you feeling? Y/n: I don’t feel as sick anymore but I’ve been feeling really full lately. I didn’t think my stomach would pop out so early. I was thinking maybe it’s because I’m a small and short? Doctor: ‘maybe. Layback and let me take a look” she put the cold jelly on your stomach and starts looking around with the doppler. She finds the baby and you see it wiggling around. Kylie & Stass: “You’re giving us major baby fever rn.” The doctor turns on the heart monitor and you hear a strong heart beat. To you, it sounds normal, but to the doctor, she hears something else. She moves the doppler some more and she sees something. Doctor: “umm miss, how thorough was the ultrasound you had in the ER?” Y/n: “I don’t know, they had a lot of people and they did it a little quick? Why do you ask?” She moves the doppler to what she saw and you see another blob appear. Doctor: “if they would’ve been more thorough and taken time, they would’ve told you that you’re having twins. You, Kylie & Stass: “TWINS???!?!?!!!” Doctor: “Yes. It seemed to be that baby B was hiding behind baby A.” None of you had words. You were having twins… TWO KIDS. You felt like you were having the biggest fever dream of your life but you knew this was real. You already told your family you were pregnant but know you gotta tell them that you’re having TWO? Oh hell no. Doctor: “do you want picture?” Y/n: “uhhhh, sure?” You all walked out of the appointment speechless. Kylie: “well that happened.”

*A few days later*

I took you a couple of days to process that you’re eating for 3. You wanted to do something simple cause you didnt wanna stress yourself out anymore than you already are.

David, Jason & Josh:

(Remember when Erin pranked David and Josh that she was pregnant but it was really an ovarian cyst? It’s gonna be set up like that.)

You asked them to come with you and film in your tesla so you can film a car mukbang. You had the pregnancy test with the old ultrasound picture with only one baby in the glove compartment and you had the one that shows the twins in your pocket. Y/n: *filming a mukbang* “Hey guys! I have David, Josh and Jason here with me, say hi.”  All three of them: “Hi!!!” Y/n: “Since I had no other ideas this week, my last resort was this. So have fun watching us stuff our faces with food.” You drove to Chick-Fil-A, in n out and jack in the box. Once you got everything, You parked in a parking lot, but before you start, you asked David to get you some “napkins” that were in your glove compartment and you saw his eyes go wide. David: “Shut the fuck up.” Jason and Josh are in the backseat all confused and David shows them. Jason: “No you’re not.” You’re just sitting there all nervous/ laughing and all you can say is “yes I am.” David is crying cause he loves babies, Jason & Josh are congratulating you. David: “Who’s the dad?” Y/n: “He’s not in the picture.” They all look at you with sad eyes. Jason: “we’ll be here to help with everything at anytime.” Your hormonal ass is getting the best of you and you try to hold back the tears. Y/n: “oh! One more thing. That was the first ultrasound from 3-4 weeks ago, this one was from a couple of days ago” They all see the two blobs. All three boys: “ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS YOU’RE HAVING TWINS?.” David: “Can I plan the gender reveal party?? Y/N: “Sorry, Kylie already called dibs.” David: “You told Kylie before us? Wow that’s cold.” Y/n: “Oh shut up. She was my only friend my age that has a baby. I had to get advice.” David: “ To make it up to me, If one of them is a boy, can you please name it David Jr.” Y/n: “Yes…. for 250k.” Jason: “Honestly, I wouldn’t put it past him… cause it would probably be sponsored by seatgeek.” David: *looks to the camera* “You heard it yourself people. If she has a boy, she’ll name it David Jr. for 250k. “ Y/n: “Damn now I’m kinda scared”

NEXT DAY, Corinna & Mariah:

Okay so that went well, I gonna do a 2 truths, 1 lie with Corinna & Mariah. They’re gonna be playing on the same team, so it’s 2 against 1, well 2 against 3 lol. After about 3 rounds, it was a tie (I lied on other ones so we can tie.) Y/N: “Okay so my first one is that I broke my leg when I was 15, 2. I hate Corinna’s dog and 3. I’m pregnant. Mariah: “Oh what the fuck….. Ummm.” Corinna: “Wait, you hate Carl?!” Y/n: “Just answer the question.” Mariah & Corinna: “The lie has to be that you’re pregnant.” Y/n: “the lie is that I hate Carl.” It took them a minute to understand what I said. Mariah: ‘YOU’RE FUCKING PREGNANT.” Corinna: “OH MY GOD NO WAAAY.” Y/n: “Oh and one more thing! “Shows them the twin ultrasound.” Mariah & Corinna: ARE YOU FUCKING JOKING.” Corinna: “Are they Jeff’s?” Y/n: “Is it that obvious?” Mariah: “Kind of. The boys haven’t noticed because they’re idiots.”

NEXT DAY: Kristen, Scotty, Todd, Zane, Heath & Matt:

(I made this a big collab cause I was running out of ways to tell people)

So for this reveal, I asked the six of them to send in their silly baby/kid pictures so we can react to them. The last pic will be of the twin ultrasound. Y/n: *filming* “Hey guys! I’m here with Kristen, Scotty, Todd, Zane, Heath & Matt, say hi.” All 6 of them: “Hi!!!” Y/n: “This week, we’ll be reacting to our childhood photos and maybe roast them.” All of the pictures were so 90s. Kristen with the classic ruffled poofy dresses, Matt looking like a nerdy kid, Zane holding Hidaya when she was born, 7 year old Scotty singing into a hair brush…. And then the final picture, my twin ultrasound. Everybody was so confused. Zane: “Did someone eat their twin in the womb? cause aint none of us a twin.” And then someone finally noticed. Matt: “Y/n why is your name at the corner of that ultrasound?” Kristen: “NO YOU’RE NOT.” Heath: “OOOO BITCH SHE GONNA HAVE 2 LITTLE COFFEE BEANS.” Scotty and Todd are just speechless. You’re wondering if Todd knew about you and Jeff because he’s his best friend…

You pulled aside Kristen and told her Everything. The only people you can trust with who the dad is are the girls. Kristen: “Are you gonna tell him?” Y/n: “No… He doesn’t treat me right. If he’s never treated me right, how is he gonna treat these babies?”

Todd & Jeff on a hike:

Todd: “Hey, did you hear that Y/n is pregnant?” Jeff: “whoa no I didn’t. Who told you that?” Todd: “y/n did. She revealed it in a collab she was doing with others. She’s having twins.” Jeff: “Jesus Christ, twins? That’s gonna be terrible.” Todd: “She must’ve forgot to tell you. Maybe pregnancy brain really is a thing.” Jeff’s thoughts: “I knew that bitch was sleeping with other people. There’s no way those babies are mine. She had no right trying to get mad at me cause I’d ghost her. Thank god I’m with Natalie. She’s like no one I’ve ever dated before.”

Hanging out with Kylie & Stass:

I told all of the vlog squad. Stass: “Did you tell Jeff?” Y/n: “No, but Olivia told me that Todd told him. I think Jeff is too dumb to connect the dots. He won’t figure it out.” Kylie: “Are you sure you don’t want to tell him? You’re having twins and one baby is already a lot but two? You need the help. You know what, I can hire nannies for you.” Y/n: “What? No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t wanna spend your money.” Kylie: “It’s not like I’m running out. You do remember that I’m a billionaire, right?” Stass & Y/n: “How could we forget lol.”

David, Jason & Josh POV

David: “It sucks that y/n is gonna be a single mom. It’s gonna be a lot; 2 babies and she’s in her last year of college. I hope she’ll be okay.” Jason: “She’ll be fine. She has all of us to look out for her.” Josh: “I have my own kid to watch, so I’ll probably not be as much help.” David: “She has been one of the best friends I’ve ever had. We met on vine in 2015, we met up here in LA and then the rest was history. She was really there for me when Liza and I broke up. She was my shoulder to cry on. Honestly, I’d do anything for her.” Jason: “Do you have a thing for y/n?” David stayed silent. Josh: “I’m not sure if it’d be the right time to try to win her over. She has a lot going on.” David: “It’s getting pretty late, y’all should be heading home. Jason: “Yeah. I have to pick up Charlie and Wyatt early tomorrow. Josh: “The wife doesn’t like that I stay out late, goodnight.”

David thinking to himself:

I’ve had a thing for y/n for a while now but I don’t know. It’s obvious that she had a thing with Jeff. Because of those 2 fights they had in my backyard, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jeff was the father. I was mad at how Jeff spoke about her. She not like that at all! I mean, it’s not wrong if she were but no one should ever talk to a women like that. I’ll help her as much as possible; I’m not opposed if anything were to spark between us along the way…

Back to Y/n, Kylie & Stass:

Kylie: “When’s your next appointment?” Y/n: “2-3 weeks, why?” Kylie: “Cause by that time, WE CAN FIND OUT THE GENDER OF THE BABIES!” Stass: “She’s obviously gonna go all out. Did you see Stormi’s first birthday? I swear it looked bigger than a sweet 16.” Y/n: “Oh boy… or girl…”

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

We get to find out the genders in the next chapter!! She’ll be like 16 weeks by then… I’m excited! I’ve already decided what both are gonna be… There’s gonna be some surprises! Oh and David has a thing for y/n? Ooooo girl the Tea is HOT. I also just realized the date of the video I picked when y/n and Jeff diddled (yes I said diddled).... The date on the video says 7/20…. That means the twins are due 4/20……. I swear I didn’t plan that lmao.

Taglist: @elvlogsquad @siemprestan @zavidzobrik @1-800-juniper @iminlovewithenchilidadas @ilsolee

[twdeadlysins]

Cherokee Rose: Part One

Season two, episode four (1/2)

Pairing: Eventual Daryl Dixon x Reader

Word Count:  4,793

Warnings: Slow burn, mention of minor character death, the usual walking dead violence, language, blood, and such with possible typos

Author’s Note: I don’t own anything from The Walking Dead, so all credit goes to their respective owners. This is a twd series rewrite with the reader inserted into the mix. I did and will continue to use dialogue from the actual show because I want it to be similar to what you’ve already watched, but obviously have the reader in it.

Sorry it’s been a while since I’ve uploaded another part for this series. Writer’s block, lack of motivation, and just life has been factors in why I haven’t. I’m trying to get back into the groove of things! <3

I hope you like this part!!! I feel like you guys will, but then again I have my doubts lmao ... okay bye LUL xoxo

If you want to be (un)tagged for this series rewrite, don’t hesitate to send me an ask, message me, or leave a comment and I’ll add/remove you. The same goes for any other fics! I’m in no way, shape, or form a writer. Any feedback is appreciated, but hate is a different story. Thank you and enjoy!

The gifs I use aren’t mine, so all credit goes to their respective owners.

MASTERLIST // TWD SERIES REWRITE

When you woke up the next morning, Hershel had wrapped fresh bandages around your forearms after checking your wounds to see how they were healing. He gave you more antibiotics and told you they, along with your hip were healing well before you went to go help Shane, Glenn, T-Dog, Maggie, and Beth with collecting rocks for Otis’ memorial. As you were placing the stones into the wheelbarrow, you heard a familiar motorcycle engine in the distance, making you and the others pause and look. You smiled seeing the motorcycle, the RV and another car approach the farm, your group was finally together again. 

T-Dog had gotten Rick and the others while the rest of you outside walked near the porch to meet up with everyone. You limped your way over, but ended up tripping along the way. Glenn had caught you and slung your arm around his neck while you cussed under your breath. You couldn’t believe you lost your footing, your hip felt kind of better, but it still was a pain in the ass to walk. “Thanks,” you mumbled, earning a nod in return. Daryl swung his leg off his bike, kicking the stand in place as Dale, Carol and Andrea walked up. “How is he?’ Dale asked with concern. 

“He’ll pull through, thanks to Hershel and his people,” Lori replied with an appreciative smile. “And Shane,” Rick added, causing you to peer over at him. “We’d have lost Carl if not for him.” 

“And Otis.” All eyes landed on you as you wandered yours right back at them, feeling Glenn squeeze your waist to comfort you. Otis is dead, but he still saved Carl… he brought you all here in the first place… if he didn’t do that, then Rick and Lori would’ve lost their child. You didn’t want anyone to forget that… that he sacrificed himself to save a life- Carl’s life… unless someone else made that choice for him, either way he died for someone you loved. Dale hugged Rick as Carol did the same to Lori, expressing how worried they were before Dale questioned how it happened it in the first place. 

“Hunting accident. That’s all, just a stupid accident.” Rick glanced over at you and Shane as he said it since you two were with him when it happened. Carol came up to you, causing Glenn to release his hold on you so you could hug her back. You were a little tense given the fact you that she despised you… at least to you it seemed she did for losing her child, so her even acknowledging you was weird. “How are you doin?” You sighed with a slight smile as she rubbed your arm, moving some hair out of your face. “I’ve been better.” Before she could reply, you saw Andrea approach from behind Carol, making her turn around to see what you were looking at. She peeked over at you with a closed-lip smile before stepping aside to go talk to T-Dog. It seemed that Carol was going to apologize since her eyes suddenly glossed over with regret, but you could be wrong… regardless that conversation was going to have to be at a later date. 

Andrea stuffed her hands in her pockets, glancing at the ground before finally making eye contact with you. “Look… I’m sorry about what I said-”

“Good, you should be,” you retorted before she could finish apologizing, making her face contort with a mixture of guilt and shock. “Because believe it or not we care about you, Andrea. I get wanting to go out your way, but next time… if there is a next time that you think about doing it again… think about the effect it would have on all of us.” You understood why she blamed you and Dale for ‘saving’ her back at the C.D.C, but that didn’t mean she was right by doing that. Neither one of you forced her hand like she said, you gave her a choice and if she would have still fought you on it, then you would’ve left her. 

The blonde solemnly nodded her head and walked away once it was clear that you weren’t going to continue the conversation. You felt rude for dismissing her like that, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t still bothered by what she said back at the highway. From the moment you met her and she pulled her gun on you, you weren’t very fond of her and you still weren’t, but you still cared about her. You cared for everyone in the group, hell you even cared for the Greene family and you haven’t even been on their farm for that long, only a couple days.

Your orbs connected to the archer’s for a split second before he tore them away to follow Rick and the rest of them to the memorial service. You couldn’t tell what flooded his eyes, but you had mixed emotions about him staring at you. 

On one hand you felt shy and flustered because his attention could be captured by a million other things, but it was solely on you… then again that could be because he’s pissed at you… then you were ticked off. He infuriated you after the C.D.C, when he shouted at you for risking your life… like you were careless. Yes, going into a building that was going to blow up in mere minutes was a huge risk, but you knew what you were doing. Daryl then had the nerve to shout at you for chasing after Sophia especially when you had a concussion, but you could care less. Sophia was in danger and you weren’t about to stay put because of your injuries… her life mattered more than you being banged up. 

Everyone gathered around a pile of rocks that were bigger than your hand and each stacked one on top for Otis as Hershel gave a speech. Otis gave his life to save Carl’s and it didn’t matter to you that he had accidentally caused the whole mess in the first place. He was a hero and no one was going to take that away from him on your watch. 

While Hershel spoke, you carefully watched Shane’s behavior, you were still skeptical of the story he told about that night… it just didn’t sit right with you. His head was shaved off and your gut told you it was because of the tiny, but noticeable bald spot he had on his head… he was definitely leaving something out- hiding something. He was staring off into space, zoned out in his own little world, not paying attention in the slightest like he was reliving a memory. His mouth was agape and his brows were slightly creased, but you stopped studying him when Hershel asked him if he would speak for Otis. 

“I’m not good at it. I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking between the doctor and the ground with a sigh. 

“You were the last one with him. You shared his final moments, please, I need to hear. I need to know his death had meaning.” You bit your lip as you fumbled with your belt buckle, staring at the ground while a grieving Patrica pleaded to Shane. 

According to Shane, they were down to their pistols with very little ammo. He was already limping and it was pretty bad with his ankle all swollen up. Otis had said, “We’ve got to save the boy” before handing his backpack to Shane and shoving him ahead. Otis instructed him to run, that he’d take the rear and cover him, but when Shane looked back- he trailed off, not finishing the story and limped to place a rock on top of the stack.

The ending was obvious and you scanned your eyes over everyone, gauging their reactions and Dale didn’t seem convinced and it was evident when the two of you looked at each other. You’d have to talk to him about his thoughts and you still didn’t forget what you interrupted in the woods between the two of them. Daryl didn’t seem to believe it either, so maybe you could try and talk to him about that too. 

“If not for Otis, I’d have never made it out alive and that goes for Carl too. It was Otis… he saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his.” Patricia nodded her head, assured that her husband’s death was not in vain, but to you… he was trying too hard. Okay, that sounded like it didn’t make sense, maybe it didn’t, but to you it did. Shane, at least to you, was praising his death, glorifying even, like he was convincing not only everyone else, but himself that it was okay… that it wasn’t his fault. 

“If not for Otis… He saved us both… if any death ever had meaning it was his” 

Were you making all this shit up? Reading too much into things? Patricia did ask for Shane to assure her that Otis’ death had meaning, but something was up… right? You sure as hell didn’t know and you were afraid to find out if something other than what Shane said did happen. If Shane did get Otis killed, would that be so bad? In the end, it was to save Carl and if you were in his shoes… you would’ve done the same thing or hell, even taken yourself out. But to be fair, you had a more pressing matter to ahead to now that Carl was okay… finding Sophia. 

You and Rick had informed Hershel on the situation and told him today would be three days since she had gone missing. Three days. She’s been scared and alone for three days. Before you could start thinking deprecated thoughts, Maggie unraveled a county survey map on top of the hood of a car with Rick, Shane, Daryl, Hershel, Andrea and yourself surrounding it. The map was a blessing, it showed terrains and elevations, finally giving you guys a visual and be organized to set up grid searches. 

Hershel spoke up and told Rick that he wouldn’t be doing any of that today since he gave three units of blood. He wouldn’t last five minutes in this heat before passing out. The doctor then went on to Shane about his ankle, if he pushed it now, he’d be laid in bed for a month. 

“Guess it’s just me.” Daryl leaned forward to look at the map, but you hurriedly slammed your hand on the hood, blocking the paper from getting moved or studied. The hunter glared at you with questioning brows, wondering what the hell you were doing. 

“Nuh uh. I’m going with.”

“Like hell ya’re woman,” he huffed. “Ya still got a minor concussion, a busted hip and n’ infection in ya arms. Even saw ya trip earlier!” You rolled your eyes before snapping your head to Hershel when he agreed with him. You were in no condition to go out, you were worse than Shane and he had a fucked up ankle, so what made you think you could go out? 

You sighed and threw your ups arms dramatically. “I don’ know, I’m stubborn okay?” Everyone chuckled, saying that was a given which made you squint your eyes at them with crossed arms, grumbling while Daryl proceeded to look at the map. He was going to head back to the creek and work his way from there whereas Shane offered the idea for himself to drive up to the interstate to see if Sophia made her way back. So then it was set, tomorrow you’d all officially start searching for her together and you didn’t care what anybody said… you were going to too.

Shane had brought up a good point, everyone couldn’t walk around carrying knives out there, so you guys would have to train them to use guns. It was a great idea, you thought everyone should know how to operate a gun especially with surviving in this world. The people who were experienced with weaponry can’t be there to save the day for people who didn’t. If you wanted to survive this epidemic, then guns were your best friend. 

“Even though I could help out with the gun training, I think knowing basic knowledge in combat is essential too. So while you and Rick do gun training, I could do hand to hand combat along with some knife training if anyone’s interested?” 

Rick and Shane exchanged glances at each other which made you roll your eyes. “Yes, I know hip, concussion, cuts- whatever! I’ll take it easy, damn.” The two of them smiled and nodded their heads, saying it was a good idea, but Hershel brought up how he didn’t want anyone carrying guns on his property, stating that him and his family were doing just fine without turning into an armed camp. Before you could voice your opinion that disagreed with his request, Shane beat you to it. 

“All due respect, you get a crowd of those things wandering in here…“

“Look, we’re guests here,” Rick interrupted and you knew he was all for carrying guns, but he was trying to be respectful… like he said you all were guests. “This is your property and we will respect that.” Your best friend peered between you, Shane, and at Andrea since you all knew how much she wanted her gun since you have known her. Rick then withdrew his gun and placed it on the hood of the car to show Hershel and everyone else that he was serious and that you all would respect his wishes. 

Shane pressed his lips together and looked away as he set his pistol down as well, not wanting to obey almost as much as you did. You had your arms crossed, leaning on the hood of the car, staring at the guns, not wanting to give yours up. A clear of a throat made you peer your eyes up, not moving anything else in your body as you saw Rick direct his eyes to your gun and to the hood, waiting for you to comply. Everyone else was standing by for you, so you grunted and unholstered your P99 that was at your hip, slamming it on the car. 

“Y/N…” Your best friend prompted, causing you to toss your eyes to the back of your head, loudly exhaling through your nose as you took out the other one that was at your other hip. “Thank y…” Rick trailed off once you reached behind your waistband and set down another handgun. He nodded his head. “Okay-” Rick’s eyes widened as you winced, kneeling down to unhook not one, but two Glock 42 pistols from your ankles, placing it with the others. “... Is that it?” He cautiously inquired. 

“Oh my God!” you exclaimed with frustration picking up your hunting rifle that was leaning on the car beside you, sliding it to the collection. “Ya want my machete?! And my knives too?! ‘Cause if that’s the case we’ll be here all night!” Rick shook his head, thanking you to try and calm you down. You felt naked without your guns, you felt unbalanced… all the weight that you were used to was gone and you hated it. Yes, having that amount of guns might be a little excessive, but you never know. 

“I didn’t even know you had that many,” Andrea spoke with bewilderment as she gawked at the display of the various weapons.

“Weren’t supposed to… that’s the point,” you mumbled, slightly whining with crossed arms. Yeah, you still had your machete and knives, but knives don’t win a gunfight… or a humongous herd of walkers wanting to eat your face off. 

Rick continued to set up a plan, first things first: set camp, find Sophia. “I hate to be the one to ask, but somebody’s got to. What happens if we find her and she's a bit? I think we should all be clear on how we handle that,” Shane brought up, causing you to stop bouncing your leg at the thought of that outcome. Rick clenched his jaw before saying that Shane can do what has to be done, hating the idea of it as well. 

“And her mother? What do we you tell her?” Maggie genuinely asked, earning Andrea to respond that we’d tell her the truth. It’d be difficult, but Carol deserved to have some closure and to know what happened to her daughter… you just hoped it was a good outcome- that someone would find her alive. 

Shane picked up his weapon announcing that he would gather and secure all the others, making sure no one’s carrying until you were all at a practice range off site. He then put in a request of at least one rifleman on lookout which made your ears perk up and hurriedly look at Shane who was already looking at you as if to volunteer you, but then he brought up Dale having experience. Your shoulders slouched and you gave him a hardened look, letting him know you were pissed. 

Hershel didn’t seem to like that either as he thought about it, so Rick put in the extra effort to convince him that your people would feel a lot safer and less inclined to a carry gun. You scoffed in your head not feeling that way, but whatever to get the old man to agree right? Well Rick could mean that, that everyone would feel safe and not feel the need to carry, but not you and he gave you a look telling you he knew. Hershel ultimately nodded his head which was a relief, but damn you wanted at least one of your guns on you. 

You stood there while everyone departed except for Rick, Hershel, Maggie, and Andrea. The doctor’s daughter asked if you guys had anymore bandages, antibiotics or anything of that nature, but unfortunately what she saw was all you guys had. Maggie then mentioned going on a pharmacy run into town since they were running low, she’s done it before, so it shouldn’t be that big of a deal. 

Rick turned around to show Hershel and her daughter Glenn, who was helping Lori set up a tent. The cop had described him as the ‘go-to-town expert’ and for her to ask him to tag along, just to be cautious. Her father gestured his head to go over there, giving her permission to go before you went to rest on the steps of the house. 

You winced as you settled down, stretching your legs out before remembering you wouldn’t need your ankle holsters anymore. While you leaned down to remove them, you saw someone approach you in your peripheral. They sat beside you and took their hat off before asking what you were doing. “Well, Rick, these aren’t much of use to me anymore considering I don’t have a single weapon,” you replied with a bit of an attitude which you instantly regretted. You closed your eyes and exhaled before finally looking at your best friend as you piled the holsters in your lap. “Sorry, I don’t fully support the no weapon rule, but I do respect it and I’m not mad at you for following it. It’s just… I don’t know. I’m so used to carrying and I feel unprotected without them,” you confessed, fiddling with the holsters. 

Rick sighed and rubbed your shoulder to comfort you, showing you he understood by the gesture. “We got Dale.”

“Yeah, I know, but I’m used to protecting myself and others… not others protecting me.”

“Well, maybe ya should let them, Y/N.” Rick scooted closer, your sides squished together as he continued to soothe circles on your other shoulder. You rested your head on his shoulder, seeing a confused Glenn watch Maggie walk away. He must’ve learned about the horses and the thought of him riding one made your mouth quirk up, then an idea struck you.

“Daryl!” The outburst made you slightly jolt up which made Rick hurriedly apologize, but you dismissed it with a wave of your hand saying you had to do something anyways. As you went to push yourself up, the cop grabbed a hold of your hand to aid you while the hunter waited to hear what Rick had stopped him for. You said your thanks, catching Daryl’s eye, feeling a tad bit awkward before trudging off to your destination. 

You knew it’d be better for your hip to rest and not do anything, but that sounded more torturous than just dealing with it and walking. The walk over to the stables made you think about Daryl, how things were still tense between the two of you… you hated it. The two of you were stubborn, so there was no telling when this little feud would end. You could try and put your hardheadedness aside and talk to him, but the last time you did he ignored you. So why would this time be any different? 

“Maggie?” The brunette poked her head out and smiled in the middle of saddling a horse. You swallowed nervously, stuffing your hands in your back pockets as you got closer to where she was. 

“What can I do for ya?” 

“I- uh… I thought since- could you?-” What you wanted to ask wouldn’t come out as you stumbled over your words, mentally cursing yourself for being nervous and you didn’t know why. It wasn’t like it was a bad thing to ask, it was normal, so why were you stuttering so much? 

Maggie stopped what she was doing and worriedly came up to you, touching your arms in concern. “Everything alright, Y/N?” You nodded your head quickly, forcing yourself to swallow before yanking your hands out of your jeans to rub your face. 

“Yeah, I- uh- since you and Glenn are running to the pharmacy… I wanted to… I wanted to ask a favor,” you sheepishly asked, taking a piece of paper out of your front pocket. 

Maggie nodded. “Yeah, anything you need, Y/N. Is that it?” She questioned, pointing to the small note within your grasp. Your head slightly motioned a ‘yes’, handing her the list to which she opened, reading the contents. 

“I was diagnosed years ago, so don’t worry…” Maggie gave you a sympathetic smile before assuring you that’d she get you what was on the list. “Thanks, Maggie, I appreciate it.” 

“Okay, I know you shouldn’t with your injury n’ all, but it’s better than limping back. Would you want to ride the horse back with me?” Maggie inquired with a smile after you were done helping her get both of the horses ready, causing you to grin and your eyes to light up. She helped you up the horse, it was a little painful, but you ignored it. The pain was bearable and the excitement of riding a horse made you feel like a little kid on Christmas morning. Last time you rode a horse was with Rick… and that turned out… great, but this time you got to hold the reins. 

“Know how to ride?” 

“Oh, yeah!” You beamed, wanting to take off, but you couldn’t make the horse race off considering your hip besides you were just taking the horse up to the house… not a town over. “My uncle took me horse riding a lot. I even competed in a horse race,” you chuckled at the memory and even harder when you saw Maggie’s shocked, but impressed reaction. 

“Did you win?” The farmer’s daughter asked as you both slowly trekked toward the farm house, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion and her to giggle. “The race, did you win the horse race?”

“Oh!” The realization hit and you laughed. “Nah, I came in like third, but to me it wasn’t about winning. I just liked the adrenaline rush and the wind, the way it made me feel.” Maggie grinned and bobbed her head in understanding, letting a comfortable, gleeful silence loom between the two of you before you remembered something else to ask her. 

“And Maggie?” Her smile faltered once she heard that your tone was different, more worried and urgent. “Can we keep the things on that list I gave you a secret? I just don’t want everyone knowing or worrying about me.”

“Yeah, of course, Y/N.” Maggie held out her hand and your mouth twitched up at the comforting gesture. You grabbed her hand and squeezed, smiles spreading across your faces as you made it back near the house. 

Despite knowing her for only a couple days, you considered her to be a very good friend. She welcomed you- a stranger, helped you through your panic attack and continued to be generous and nice. Other people would’ve looked the other way, ignored you and not given you a time of day, but not her and to you it showed you could trust her. Trusting people was hard for you, talking to and befriending them, sure, you could do that. You were a people person after all, being one helped with being a good cop, but that didn’t mean you trusted every person you met. The list of people you trusted- that you could depend your life on could be counted on your fingers. 

“Y/N! What the hell!” Glenn scolded with his arms extended out while you rolled your eyes and carefully swung your leg off the horse. “Are you crazy? You’re injured and you’re riding a horse?”

“Will you stop yelling at me and help dimwit!” He rushed up to you and grabbed onto your waist and wrist, aiding you off the horse. You had gotten halfway, but you were scared you’d lose your footing or apply too much pressure to your foot, ultimately hurting your hip. “Glenn, I appreciate your concern, but I’m a big girl. Thanks for helping me.” 

“I know… just be careful, okay?” You smiled and patted his baseball cap. “Also… dimwit?” 

Before you could respond, Dale and T-Dog rushed over and said there was a problem with the well which raised a few concerned brows. Everyone, but Rick, Hershel, Daryl and Carol followed the two men to the well, wondering what the hell was the matter. The answer to your question was answered when you peeked into the well to see a very big and disgusting walker look up at you from below. You brought your fingers under your nose and grimaced. “Ew, what the fuck?” 

“How long do you think it’s been down there?” Glenn asked, resting his palms on his bent knees, staring at the walker with disgust. 

“Long enough to grow gills,” Andrea joked, but with a serious tone, making you smirk regardless. It’s probably been in there since the dead start to rise, it didn’t even look like it used to be a person like walkers usually did. Being in the water did a number on it. 

“We can’t leave it in there. God knows what’s doing to the water.” You peered at Lori with confusion not understanding what the point was. 

“We gotta get it out,” Shane agreed with his hands on his hips before T-Dog gave a simple solution, to put a bullet in its head. Maggie objected to the idea and so did Andrea, saying if it didn’t already contaminate the water, then blowing its brains out would do the job. 

“I’m pretty sure it just existing in the water is contaminating the water. Either way, I’m not drinking it,” you commented, your face contorting into repugnance at the thought of even taking a sip of the water after that has been in there.  

Shane chuckled at you and you looked at him, your facial features still showing distaste. “So it has to come out alive?” T-Dog asked, glaring coldly down at the creature with no emotion whatsoever and not wanting to have to get it out. 

“So to speak,” Shane joked, making you cover your mouth as you involuntarily giggled. You coughed to mask your humor, trying to be serious in the situation and it was especially hard when they tried baiting the walker with a canned ham. A canned ham doesn’t kick and scream, so it wasn’t going to budge unless you used live bait… great. 

“We need live bait,” Andrea said moments after you came to the same conclusion, immediately eyeing Glenn who gazed up realizing that she meant him. He sighed, knowing he had to be the one to do it since no one else would, but the tightening of a rope brought everyone’s attention to you. 

“Who’s ready to make a wish?”

_____________________________________

MASTERLIST // TWD SERIES REWRITE

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed it! If you’d like to added or removed from the tags don’t hesitate to send me an ask or message! <3

A/N: Omg sorry for the lack of Daryl AGAIN. I know he’s in there for a little bit throughout, but to be fair I’m going by the show ya know? Don’t worry though!! I’m almost done with the second part to this and I’m pretty sure we’ll get more of him!! 

Taglist: @jodiereedus22 @sourwolf-sterek32 @jll72-blog @mtngirlforever  @haleypearce @nikkipea @sombra--speaks @the-three-eyed-ravenclaw @bunnymother93 @holyn0vak @myshakespeareandarling @million-dollar-milkshake @thatsoragan @firehoopinmama @mummy-woves-you @sheebthezeeb @j-a-val @filleinterrupted @gruffle1 @lonewolf471 @youhavemyfantasticbeasts @gabbygurrl @burningsorr0ws @siren-queen03 @intogoode @randomfandommess @dixonluvv @aestheticmattilyn @samlott2202 @freggietale @fandomfanatic97 @lxdyred @ii-chuuya-gravity-ii @dashesoflipstick @bucky-barnes-babies @magnumstyles @selvadorada @jordangdelacruz @evilunicorns4minions @littlefool-smalljester @thelastdragon6 @ellie-andthemachine

[jellidile]

Rainbows (GN reader x Vergil)

Wowow! Big special thanks to: @lizzart-zardonicz  for letting me use their picture as inspiration for this fic! As always hope you enjoy, and if you find a typo don’t hesitate to call it out! 

Vergil doesn’t have a crush on you, that would be ridiculous... right??

To Vergil, you were a difficult book to read. It wasn’t as if you were written in another language. Or that your pages were too crumpled, and especially not because he just couldn’t read… But, the way you made him feel… It was confusing. He couldn’t understand why he’d seek out your attention, and how he found your jokes (even if he’d heard them a million times) funnier than Dante’s. Maybe he was sick he thought to himself as he accidentally found himself staring at you, and having to make some half-assed excuse. Surely this was some sort of disease, he pondered as he purposefully found himself sitting down with his book in the kitchen while you’d cook for him and his brother. Enjoying the little songs you would hum.

He’d met you shortly after Dante had returned from hell. Never had he seen a human carry so much anger in one small frame. And never had he seen so much directed at just Dante. But yet, you were always kind to Vergil. Months had gone by and you had only ever been stern to Vergil when he, (though he’d never admit) deserved it. Sure you were kind to Dante too, but it was more of a tough love sort of kindness. Yet for that same inexplicable reason… Vergil felt happy that you were so much nicer to him.

It didn’t take long for Dante to notice. At first, Vergil assumed Dante’s mysterious smile’s and laughter was just him being annoying until,

“Vergil, seriously when are you gonna tell them?” Vergil quirked an eyebrow,

“What? Tell who, what?” Dante laughed,

“What do you mean who? Vergil you’ve got the hots for shorty and you’ve got it bad, bro! Don’t tell me you didn’t notice!” Vergil takes a moment, then he blushes,

“I-I do not like them! And you know they’ll hit you if you call them shorty! They- I could never-” Dante just laughs,

“They’re not here right now so I can do what I want, and Verge, you’re crushing harder than a hydraulic press bud. But deny it all you want, I’ll still know~” Vergil huffed sending Dante a glare. But the younger twin merely smiled walking outside the shop.

A few days later, Vergil still couldn’t believe it. Did he really like you? That couldn’t be good. And oh god, it terrified Vergil. A part of him yearned to tell you, to ask if you would… if you could love him as he was… But a more bitter part of him already knew the answer. It was just his luck that, of course, the day he was feeling the absolute worst about himself was the day that it not only was raining, but Dante was out; Leaving Vergil alone with his thoughts. Staring out the window Vergil felt clouds surround his head. Each one giving him a worse thought than the last. Miserably he sat, off in his own solemn world. Only dragged partially away by a light tap on his shoulder.

It was you. Vergil fought back a blush as you looked out the window,

“Were you staring at the Rainbow, Vergil?” Vergil turned around just into time to see lightning strike and see rain pour down onto the street. He sighed as he turned around,

“Rainbows never shine around me.” And he could’ve sworn you looked offended,

“And why is that?” Vergil huffed. Honestly, he thought you were smarter than this,

“Because I’ve done horrible things that I can never be forgiven for.” Thunder echoed through the shop’s walls and Vergil was sure of it now. You were offended,

“Are you kidding me!? Vergil, while it’s good you realize what an absolute asshat you were, you seriously need to give yourself more credit. You’re constantly trying to be a better person… And there are people who care about you.” Vergil bit his own lip, but the words still tumbled out,

“Do you?” You blinked owlishly and Vergil felt like running to his room but you had his shoulders in a tight grip,

“What?” Your voice was barely above a whisper,

“Do… Do you care about me?” A gentle blush crept up your cheeks as Vergil’s hands cupped your cheeks. He could tell that you felt him shaking. That his heart was beating faster than he’d ever noticed. His throat went dry and he could only continuously scold himself and say that it wasn’t too late to back out…

“Of course I do…” And Vergil willed himself to stop leaning in, yet he couldn’t, he wanted to believe that you weren’t also leaning in but when his eyes fluttered shut and the softest pair of lips landed on his own. It was as if there was a small parting in the dense clouds, and when Vergil pulled away. He opened his eyes just in time to see your face as you latched onto his chest. Arms pulled around him in a hug. Vergil sighed and slowly returned the action,

“W-Was that too forward of me? Usually, I can’t do words justice…” You chuckled into his shirt looking up at him with eyes so full of love Vergil nearly melted at the sight,

“No, never. Not when I’ve been just as scared.” Vergil felt his eyes widen, and he felt a smile tug at his lips,

“I- Well, nothing gets by you, hm?” He couldn’t help but chuckle. God was he scared… How could he treat you right when he was so-

“Vergil, look outside!” He slowly turned and proudly sitting in the sky were two full rainbows. He smiled as he stared at them. You pecked his cheek playfully making Vergil blush,

“Liar. You said rainbows never shine, yet I’m looking at two!” Vergil huffed picking you up,

“My love they’re shining for you. As they and I always will.”

[made-in-the-hallway]

Problematic feelings

Word count: 2.083

Requested: Yes

Warnings: Angst and tiny cries.

What’s up fam? I know it has been soooooo long since the last time I published a piece of writing but I felt the need to write wash over me so here I am! This was requested so I got down to fullfill that request! I haven’t proofread that so I am sorry for any typos! Also, I am not very sure of this one but I hope you like it! Feedback is very much appreciated and requests are open too! Without further a due, enjoy! (Picture’s not mine / Masterlist)...

Life had always been somewhat easy for me. That doesn’t mean that it never had its downs as well, but in total, the happy times and the happy memories, outnumbered the bad ones. Someone would assume that I am silly or even insane for thinking like that. But it is the ultimate truth. And I couldn’t be more appreciative of the little but of the big things that came my way as well.

Since I was little, my family was my safe place and they would always be there for me no matter what. It was something that always fascinated me and it was the main reason why I looked up to my parents as well. They were the happiest and the funniest people anyone would ask for to be in their lives. They made it their priority to look after me and make me a rational and most importantly a joyful human being.

As the years were passing by, my parents’ demeanor didn’t change in the slightest bit. Not even my dad’s, even when I brought Harry over to meet him. Harry and I had met at a Uni lesson, Algebra I reckon. We instantly hit it off and we would hang out almost on a daily basis. His presence always placed a smile on my face and warmth in my heart without him even trying. I was amazed at the simplicity of his actions and the importance they carried with them, for they made my day every day.

Harry was too thankful for having me around. At first, he had noticed how closed off I was and he made everything in his power to change that. He would randomly insert a funny comment in our conversation, without it really being relevant. But it did make me more comfortable around him. Then, he would nudge my shoulder when the teacher we both despised would walk into the classroom and I would stifle a laugh because we didn’t want to be expelled.

Anyone watching us would suppose that we were a proper couple. Oh how I wish. I’m not gonna lie. Harry was charming and all but what really made me fall for him so quickly was his personality. I know this sounds cliché as hell, but I can’t state otherwise. Just the way he saw things and his optimism worked like a strong magnet for me, pushing me towards him without stopping. At the time, I knew I was screwed, because I deeply understood that those feelings I had developed for him were one-sided. He never really rubbed it in my face that he hadn’t taken a liking in me, but he never confessed he liked me either.

So things between us were stable; at least for a month or so. There were times when I wouldn’t hear from Harry for almost two weeks. The time we spent apart was tearing me apart and no matter how many texts and voicemails I would leave to his cell phone, they were all sent in vain. The situation changed when he appeared on my doorstep – after 36 days of absence- clarifying that we needed talk. At first, I was scared he wanted to call it quits with me and just leave me be. 

But the complete opposite happened. He confessed that I was on his mind from the very first day his eyes landed on me and that he wanted to risk our friendship in order to become something more. This had to be the best day of life. Just thinking about it, makes me feel all the butterflies I felt at that time. So, we continued being together even after our graduation. My parents were ultimately glad for Harry. I mean, how couldn’t they? He was sweet with their daughter, he would always lend a hand when needed and most importantly, he never took advantage of my parents’ hospitality.

Things changed for the better when he proposed though. It wasn’t anything over the top, but it was over the top for me. The boy I had been fantasizing about since day one was on one knee asking me to be his wife. Maybe that was the best day of my life along with the day we were informed by our doctor that we were expecting twins. We were happily petrified. We wanted kids of course, but we had never done that before. How could we make it? Would we make good parents? How would we be able to afford such a lifestyle? Those were questions voiced to Harry by me, making my uneasiness and fears visible to him.

“As long as we’re together, nothing should make us feel afraid”, Harry had commented and that was all I needed; Harry to be there for me; for us. Ever since, he never left my side. He was there even when he needn’t be. Sometimes, he would exaggerate and be worried for the both of us. Deep down, I knew this was all I needed. A family with the man I always loved and a home to protect this affection from the vicious eyes.

But who knew that this affection would be threatened by the only people I would never suspect? Me and Harry. After the twins were born, difficulties and problems started to arise and they made us isolate ourselves from each other. I hated that. I thought we would never be hit by misery and sadness and that our family would be lovingly bonded till the end of time. Maybe, my life had been way too good to me and now it was time I dealt with its nasty face like everybody else did.

Fights with Harry have become a routine by now. Maybe his busy schedule is taking an ugly toll on him that he can’t control. Maybe I am tired of him throwing tantrums at any given moment. Maybe I don’t want our children to be raised in an unfriendly environment like this. Whatever the reason, Harry and I never bottled up our thoughts and emotions and we always took it out on the other. Just like right now.

Lips pursed, hands fisted, eyes burning and words sharper than knives were a usual sight for him. So it shouldn’t be much of a surprise for me as well.

“Harry please stop shouting! I just put the kids to bed for God’s sake!”

“Oh now I can’t even talk, right? Do I need yehr permission to do tha’ as well?” Harry’s tendency to exaggerate was enough to send me over the edge and forget all about my infidelity and my kids’ napping. 

“That is nonsense and you bloody know it! You never needed my permission to do anything! If you think that asking for my opinion on things, which is absolutely normal for couples and families, is wrong, then this is highly childish of you!”

“So yeh think tha’ I am a child then! How brilliant! I just can’t believe yeh said yes to marry a child!”

“You know I value our marriage and our family more than my own life Harry! What is wrong with you anyways? You always have my word for my loyalty and devotion to this family of ours but you just pay no attention to it!”

“Don’t even think about accusing me of not loving yeh or my children!” Harry’s blood was boiling by now and if there was a minor possibility to control his temper before, now there was none.

“If you loved and cherished me Harry then we wouldn’t be shouting at this time of night. We wouldn’t even be questioning each other’s feelings. But maybe y-“

“Maybe wha’? Maybe I don’t want yeh? Is tha’ wha’ yeh were goin’ to say?” Harry had taken a few steps towards me and my eyes were started to be blurry when a tiny cry from up the stairs had me frozen in place. 

Our older daughter, Emmy, was holding her teddy bear close to her small figure and she wore a disheartened  face that I swear it ripped my heart in two. Without wasting another minute, I rushed to her side and she desperately tried to get a hold of me like I were going to abandon her or disappear into thin air. Harry stood in front of the sofa, with his face buried in his hands and his heart fallen to his guts if not the floor of our home. I couldn’t believe we made our daughter believe her parents didn’t love her anymore or they didn’t love each other.

“Baby it is ok. Shhhh… I promise” I tried my best to soothe her and I felt her cries die down a bit. Instantly, I let out a big breath I didn’t even know I was holding and I absentmindedly started rubbing her back and planting small kisses on her small hands.

“Dadda doesn’t lov- love us anymore momma?” she tried to say but her hiccup got in the way. Just when those words fell from her lips, my face was quick to turn to Harry’s side. I was somewhat relieved to see that our daughter’s words had shaken him up a bit and made him come to his senses. That must mean he still feels something; if not for me, then for our kids at least.

He was quick to come to our side and place us inside of his embrace. Truth be told, I never felt safer in my entire life. Just when his arms tied around us, I felt protected. I felt like this black bubble of shouting and menace couldn’t absorb us. Emmy by the way, had stopped crying and she cherished her dad’s hug by wrapping her tiny arms around his neck and him lifting her up to meet his eyes.

“Don’t ever, ever assume tha’ Dadda doesn’t love yeh… Okay princess?” Harry reassured her and she moved her head. If only things were so easy. I had to remind myself that my conflict with Harry was far from over and we had yet to put an end to this. The only thing stopping me from it is my lack of energy. I was beyond tired and fed up with fighting with him. I just want everything to fall into place once again and stay this way for as long as we both remain married.

“Let’s put yeh to sleep now. Princesses need their precious sleep, don’t they?” Harry joked and Emma chuckled. He had a way to make things right; with his kids. I had made my way to our bedroom by then and I was preparing myself with what was coming. 

Half an hour later, I heard the door of the room cracking, signaling that Harry was in the room as well. No one said a word, letting the awkward silence consume us and leave us longing for a single reassurance; that nothing was lost yet. I found it completely ironic to be met with desperation and a heavy breathing around Harry when in the past he was the one who fought with those demons.

“What happened to us Harry?” I was the first to break the thick ice between us for it needed to be broken.

“Life I guess…” he dully replied and my heart fell to the floor. I needed to steady my mind, or else the burden of this situation would flip me over in a matter of seconds. 

“I am willing to chase life and not let it get in-between. But I can’t if I am alone in this”

“Wha’ do yeh mean Y/N?” he turned to face me and I could have sworn that I saw hope in his eyes. A burning hope to push that restart button together. A burning hope to make it right. Again.

“I mean that I am willing to start it all over. To be happy again. To leave those arguments behind and only look back to them to remind ourselves that we can be better than that. I am willing to give it a try and remind ourselves that our love is here to stay for good. I just need to know one thing Harry” I truthfully said and the look Harry gave me was enough for me to muster up all the courage and hope I had left in me in order to ask him two words. Even though I didn’t have a single clue what his answer would be or where we would be standing after this.

“Are you?”

[madamrogersstorytelling]

Madamrogers Storytelling

Hello, lovelies,

What a way to start a post, eh? I just wanted to stop by and explain a little bit. Explain what? Why I actually made this blog and what I’m gonna do with it. Thank you already for reading and following this little blog if you pushed the magical button looking like a chess piece! You made me very happy.

This is going to be a long post so I’ll put it under the tag.

I’ve written stories (fiction and non-fiction) since I was 8 years old and it has been my passion ever since. Nowadays it’s more of a rule than an exception that I might be writing or at least thinking about a story when you see me. Becoming an author has been my dream since the beginning. This road has been bumpy, more than not may I say, but I never have stopped. I found my passion as that little girl who hardly had any idea of a world around her and I’m still that little girl inside my head as a 20-year-old. During these past 12 years I’ve faced a lot of good and bad stuff, and writing has always been there helping me to get through all that. I know that other writers here can relate to the feeling of escaping from all the bad things and thoughts and just diving into the magical world of your stories. 

I admit: I’m an escapist. 

What I also admit: I’m sweating. Like, literally sweating right now. During these 12 years I’ve also neglected the possibility to actually post my writings anywhere simply because it has made me feel anxious. I don’t know why but pressing that little button called ‘post’ has always given me chills. I’ve done it a few times in the past but never got the routine like some people seem to have. I look at the people posting their fics here or to AO3 or to the Finnish fanfiction forum I read quite often, and I think to myself that damn... these people have something I can only dream of. Posting my writing has made me scared. I’ve let people read my stories, though; my friends have read them, my mother and some other family members have read them, my Finnish teacher(s) have read them. And they have always said the same thing: these are good, post them somewhere, at least send them to the people who read novels and comment them.

The thing is I know I’m not a shitty writer. I kinda like my style, but I cannot say I like every story I’ve written. That’s normal, every writer writes complete shit sometimes and has to delete parts which had 5,000 words. Sucks, right? I’ve done that. I’ve deleted miles of my writing just because it has been total shit. I regret it sometimes. I could’ve edited it; it could’ve become something worth living. But no.

The other thing is: I’ve always written in Finnish. It’s my native language, it has felt the safest. I’ve been able to express myself the way I’ve wanted, twist the words and structure as much as I like, tried different styles and dynamics. It has been fun, and I’ve found my own style during these little experiments. I started to study English at school in 3rd grade. I always liked it, watched movies and read books eagerly to learn more and more. I was quite good. My teachers told me my writing was smooth and I have this noticeable style, courage to try new things. Well, okay, fine... I decided to try. I wrote a fanfic in English. It died before it was even two pages long. I lost faith. I left it there and continued my other writings. 

Back in the summer of 2016 I got inspired by some of my writer friends around here and one of them pushed me to try; I translated one of my Marvel fanfics from Finnish to English and posted it with shaking hands. I tagged some people I thought might like it, and people actually liked it. So much that I decided to write a sequel, in English since the beginning this time. It surprised me that it wasn’t that hard after all. People liked it as well. But I lost my faith again. Continued to write in Finnish and pushed English aside. A lot later I started to write a The Walking Dead fanfic me and my friend had planned - in English. At the same time I wrote some small drabbles, too. The fic died, I never continued those drabbles. And while feeling like I had betrayed my friend I wrote the fic for, I also found the reason why everything died in my arms: I didn’t think I was good enough. I didn’t think people could understand my writing, my English. 

I let it be and started to work with this thought. It took a lot of time from me to finally accept it. I’ve always been a perfectionist, punished myself more than cheered. Didn’t help this time, either. I’ve always wanted to keep up, wanted to succeed and do well, but I also have this habit of pushing myself too far, and it revenges itself. At one point I decided to leave this thought, let it live in the back of my head (which never shuts up, there are always too many thoughts swirling around) and I focused on those projects I had fallen in love with, held dear and wanted to finish. 

Then came this spring, it was the hardest for me so far for so many reasons. I lost words. I wasn’t able to write at all. All the stories were there inside my head, swirled around and knocked on the door to the part of my head from which I could set them free. With a pencil or a computer, doesn’t really matter. But they never got to that part. I was stuck. And it ate me alive because I had always been able to survive from everything because of writing. Now I started to think that why the hell to even try when even words leave me. I struggled and struggled, cried probably more than ever because of writing – I was so desperate. In the beginning of July I finally got them back. And that was also the moment of realizing many things; one of them was that if I really want it, why not to at least try. No matter how scared it makes me – hell, the trick is not minding that it hurts. I’m not ready to fall back into that pit where I hardly even know who I am; it was even more painful without words. There was one certain moment I realized I still have the ability to be strong. I’m not ready to give up anymore. They go head first to the tree, right? Why am I not doing that? I should. I have nothing to lose.

That’s why I’m writing this now. That’s the reason why I made this blog. I’m going to push myself; to write in English, to post what I wrote. It’s going to be hard and I cannot promise anything but I will try. Kick me if you see me giving up or disappearing totally because that’s not what I should be doing. I’m going to the tree and my head is going first. The description says that my requests are open. They are; you can request something, whatever. I’m sorry if I don’t write it or if it takes time, I’m still new to this whole “I’m writing stories in different language than my own and posting them” thing but maybe I will become a part of it.

Hopefully.

Forgive me already.

I want to thank you for reading this post. I most likely love you already for using your time on that. I really do love you for that. Feel free to throw an ask, I’m more than happy to talk about anything, everything. Share things, tell me your thoughts and tips and everything, I’m here to talk and write and whatever you want me to do (I won’t swim, though; climbing to that tree is totally enough).

With love,

Jenna aka madamrogers

Also, a shout out to all these people, they’ve been helpful (most likely without even knowing it themselves) during these past few weeks I’ve spent thinking and thinking and finally deciding.

@accio-rogers, for always loving me and my writings, no matter how shitty I think they are (or I am).

@sielustaja, for telling me my English is totally good enough and always finding the right words.

@chrisevans-imagines, for helping me back in the day and always encouraging me.

@jennareedus, for being awesome as you are and always cheering me up with your fics.

@padfootagain, for your beautiful writing and the tips; especially for noticing me and my agony and tagging me in this post (Carole’s writing tips are perfect, you should read them all).

@whostheblondegirl, for being the first reblogging my first fic ever with so kind and encouraging words, you literally made me cry out of happiness.

@theartofimagining13, for writing those inspiring and beautiful stories, putting something from your soul in every single one of them.

@madamsmaug, for always believing in me, no matter what.

@filismaiden, for writing in your amazing English, inspiring me to try (because why to care about typos) and always sharing my agony.

And also these people for being here and sharing something they’ve created. We should feel special. @that-bwitch @emilyevanston  @loricameback @myriadimagines @banditthewriter and lots and lots more of people I’ve forgotten now – but know that I love and thank you.

X

[traveller-lover-dreamer]

Ballerina, pt 5

Finally, I was able to write something. Infinity War shook me so much it took me awhile to write this chapter. I hope you will all enjoy it though! 

THANKS AGAIN FOR THE MOODBOARD @theblxefox YOU ARE AMAZING I LOVE YOU!!! I have troubles with the size though so if anyone knows how to fix it hit me up!!

Summary:  Ever since Y/N Y/L/N has become a spy, she has been working alone to get to Nikolai Sakharov, a Russian criminal. Little did she know that her mission was about to change everything she thought she knew about her life.

Part one, part two, part three, part four

Pairing : Spy!Harrison Osterfield X Reader

Words: 3861

Warnings: the beginning is violent, there are swear words. There might be some typos too haha. If you aren’t comfortable with violence, don’t read the story, it’s a spy story so yeah, I guess you understand but if you love spy stories, enjoy my child.

Your POV

 You woke up at 5 AM, wishing you could have slept more but knowing you finally would be able to get back to work. Just the thought of it excited you so much that you knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep any longer anyway. So you got up and headed to the bathroom, where you took a quick and cold shower. When that was done, you got dressed. You chose your black pants in which you could hide more knives that you would probably ever need. You then put on black boots that made you feel like you could conquer the world. You completed the look with a simple black t-shirt.

You were walking to the kitchen when you heard a knock on your door. You wondered who it could be so early in the morning. You thought it might be agent Osterfield but he had never come this early. Well, except the time he came to clean up Peter’s stuff, he had never come at all. To have someone knocking at your door at this time of the day was… unexpected. You couldn’t help but to think something was off.

You walked to the door, looking through the peephole. Two men were standing on the other side, one of them being one of the men that were with Sakharov the day of the auction. And they were armed. Crap.

You hadn’t had the time to get your knives and you knew you wouldn’t have the time to get them before the men would try to break in. Your eyes went to your wrist. Your bracelet was your only weapon. A bracelet against two men armed with guns. This was going to be fun.

You took a deep breath before opening the door, flashing them your brightest smile.

“Miss Ivachov”, said one of the men in a perfect English, “we need to talk.”

As he was saying that, you had scanned both of the men up and down. The one who had talked had a Glock 17 in his belt. The other one had a Makarov PM, a Russian handgun. That one was the man from the auction and you noticed he was putting all of his weight on one of his legs, giving you the hint that he was hurt in the other. The first guy had a scar on one cheek, probably caused by a knife or something like that. Both had knives too. Great.

“I think not”, you finally answered.

The man from the auction started to laugh before saying with a deep Russian accent:

“You don’t have the choice.”

You looked at agent Osterfield’s door over their shoulders, hoping he might had noticed the two men entering the building.

You noticed from the corner of your eyes that the first man’s hand was slowly reaching for his gun.

“Then, come in”, you said as you tried to look as composed as possible.

You stepped aside to let the men come in, shutting the door behind them, keeping at all time your two eyes on them.

“It seems you are not who you say you are”, the Russian man said.

“What makes you think that?” you asked, switching to the actual language.

The man who had spoken in perfect English looked to his partner questioningly and you understood he probably didn’t speak Russian.

“Anna Ivachov doesn’t exist”, the Russian answered in the same language.

You chuckled.

“It’s funny, you’re not the first person who’s told me that”, you said.

 He didn’t seem to like your joke and he grabbed his gun, pointing it to you.

“You killed my brother, I might as well kill you now”, he said in English.

You raised your hands instinctively, trying to think about what you should do.

“The boss said he wants us to bring her alive”, the first man said, reaching for his partner’s arms and lowering them so the gun didn’t point at you anymore.

“And why the hell would Sakharov want me?” you asked as you remembered the way Sakharov had called you.

You had wondered for the past two weeks why the hell he had called you ballerina. You were afraid of the answer, but you needed it anyway.

“He’s going to tell you himself”, the first man answered.

You were kind of disappointed to hear that. It would have been easier for them to answer. Did they really think you were going to come with them anyway?

“Oh, great”, you said, smiling again. “I don’t know about you, but I think the conversation is getting boring. Shall we dance?”

Both of the men looked at you questioningly. You decided to go for the one who had still his gun in his hands.

You ran to him and grabbed his wrists as he was about to shoot you. With all your strength, you moved his hands so he instead shot his partner, who didn’t have the time to grab his gun. You then kicked the man in his weak leg which caused him to lose his balance. As he fell to his knees, you took his gun from his hands, throwing it somewhere in your loft before pulling on the stone on your bracelet. As the wire came out, you rolled it around the man’s neck and started choking him.

It would have been way too easy if he hadn’t put up a fight. But of course the man decided he wasn’t going to die as easily as his partner, who was currently bleeding to death beside you.

During the fight, you had jumped over the man’s shoulder so you could strangle him from behind. You were leaning a bit and instead of going for your hands, the man’s hands went to your forearms and he used your position as an advantage to make you fall over his head. You let go of the stone, the wire retracting into the bracelet, and you fell to the ground, all of the air in your lungs going out of them.

You were dizzy for a moment and the man jumped on you, using both of his hands to strangle you. You hit on his forearms, but he was way stronger than you were and you were losing strength by the seconds.

That’s when agent Osterfield burst into your apartment. He shot the man right between his two eyes and the man’s body fell on yours as it went limp.

Harrison quickly pushed the man’s body to the side and you were finally able to breathe again. You coughed a bit and then looked at him. Were you supposed to thank him?

“I heard a gunshot”, he stated.

“Thanks for saving me”, you said and he just looked at you for a minute, not saying a word.

His eyes then went to the blood that was accumulating around the two men’s bodies.

“We aren’t safe here anymore, we have to get to the headquarters”, he said and you couldn’t agree more with him.

“Give me a minute, I’ll get the blood off of me and I’ll get my knives”, you replied.

“Be quick”, he said as you got up and ran to the bathroom.

You took a cloth to wash the blood from your face, knowing you probably didn’t have the time to take an actual shower. You then ran to the walk-in, where you had left your knives, and started putting them in your pants’ pockets. Your favorite knife was a SOG automatic knife and it was probably the one you had used the most in your life. You had trained with it and as a gift, your bosses had given it to you before you had started your hunt for Sakharov. You put it in your belt.

You walked back to where Harrison was standing. He was just finishing a phone call and he said:

“I’ve informed Miss Frost about what happened here and she’ll send a team to clean this up.”

He pointed to the men.

“Now, we’ve got to get to headquarters as fast as possible. Miss Frost wants to ask you some questions.

You nodded your head and then followed him to his car.

 Harrison’s POV

 As he was driving to the headquarters, Harrison still couldn’t really understand what had happened. When he had heard the gunshots, he had been so scared for a moment, scared that Y/N was dead and that he was going to arrive too late. When he had seen that she was under attack, he had shot the man, killing him instead of hurting him so they could ask questions later. But it was okay, because this time he had saved his partner. This time, he hadn’t committed a mistake. But why were there men in Y/N’s apartment?

He pulled over into the underground car park, stopping the car when he had reached his personal spot.

“Why does Nicola want to talk to me?” Y/N asked.

Harrison looked at her, wondering how the hell did her bosses were keeping the thing he had learned from her. That secret that had kept him from sleeping correctly in the last few days. He was so scared for her to know it, so fucking scared that he hadn’t even told Nicola, making Tom swear that he wasn’t going to tell his mother either. Tom had promised, but Harrison knew how bad he was at keeping secrets so maybe, just maybe, Nicola knew and she wanted to talk to Y/N about it. And Harrison couldn’t help but to be scared at the possibility of Y/N knowing. He really hoped Nicola didn’t know and that she didn’t want to talk to Y/N because of that.

“To be honest I have no idea”, he lied. “Maybe because you let two dangerous men into your apartment?”

“You think I did this for fun?” Y/N asked, her usual angry tone being back.

“No, but why did you?”

“I wasn’t going to kill two men on my doorstep is all”, she muttered.

“So you preferred killing them in the middle of the living room?” he asked. “You almost got killed. If I wouldn’t have been there…”

“If you wouldn’t have been there I would have never found myself in that situation”, she said with a cold voice before getting out of the car.

Really? She was still angry about that?

Harrison followed her out of his car.

“You still aren’t over that?!” he exclaimed as he walked behind her. “Fuck’s sake, if we’re supposed to start working together today you could at least stop being a bitch about that.”

“Did you just call me a bitch?” she said turning around. “You’re going to fucking regret this.”

“Enough”, Nicola’s voice said as she emerged from her own car. “I thought you were both supposed to cooperate.”

Harrison felt his anger dying down as he looked at his boss. She seemed pretty pissed about the situation.

“I beg your pardon”, Y/N said. “The morning was rough.”

Nicola sighed deeply before saying:

“You guys need to sort things out between you. If you want to work together, you have to get along.”

Harrison looked at Y/N for a moment before shaking his head.

“I’m sorry, the week has been rough”, he said.

“And you think mine hasn’t been?” Y/N replied.

“Does everything have to be a competition with you?” Harrison spat.

“Enough!” Nicola yelled. “Y/N, in my office now and Osterfield, Tom found something that might interest you.”

On that note, Nicola spun on her heels and walked toward the elevator. Y/N followed her, but Harrison chose to walk up the stairs instead. He didn’t want to be stuck in a small space with the girl right now.

Once he had climbed the stairs, Harrison walked to Tom’s office, where he crashed in his usual armchair.

“Your mom told me you have something to show me”, Harrison said as Tom looked at him questioningly.

“Are you okay?” asked Tom as if he had sensed Harrison’s upset mood, ignoring his friend’s question.

Harrison sighed before answering.

“Did your mom tell you about what happened this morning?”

Tom shook his head no.

“Okay, so Y/N was attacked by two guys in her apartment. She let them in and it turned into a fight and once I heard the gunshots I ran to her apartment to help her. So I shot the guy, saved her from dying, she said thank you but when we got here, she got angry about the time I hurt her.”

“I understand her”, Tom stated.

“Fuck off, she’s a bitch”, Harrison said. “If only she knew she’s…”

“Don’t say that here, Haz, you’re the one that told me we have to keep it a secret”, Tom intervened.

Harrison sighed.

“I can’t work with her”, he said.

“I thought you had said you were going to cooperate, that it was going to help you move on from Peter…”

“I thought it was going to but if she keeps acting that way it won’t”, Harrison replied.

“Give her a chance, she almost got murdered this morning”, Tom said.

“She would have if I hadn’t stepped in”, Harrison admitted. “But she pissed me off when we got here.”

“How old are you, for fuck’s sake?” Tom asked.

Harrison glared at his best friend’s, who shook his head as he started laughing.

“Nah, seriously mate, you sound like Paddy when he gets mad about stuff right now”, Tom laughed.

“Get lost”, Harrison said, before sighing again.

“To be honest, I think you should sleep with Y/N, to release the tension between the two of you”, Tom said, a smirk growing on his lips.

Harrison looked at Tom, wondering if he knew how much he wanted to hit him right now.

“That won’t ever happen, Tom, I don’t sleep with my partners”, Harrison replied coldly.

“Tracy asked me to tell you she still wants to go on a date with you”, Tom said out of the blue.

“What the fuck?” Even though Harrison was surprised by the change of subject, he was thankful for it. Thinking about sleeping with Y/N made him feel… weird. “I told her I’m not interested like a hundred times. Is that why you made me come up here?”

Tom nodded his head.

“She’s really attractive”, Tom said, “I don’t understand why you don’t want to give it a try.”

“I just told you I don’t sleep with my partners”, Harrison repeated.

“Well, she technically isn’t your partner”, Tom said, a smirk on his lips.

“Forget about that, it won’t happen”, Harrison replied.

“Okay then, I’ll tell her you’ll go get her at 8 PM on Friday night?” Tom said.

“That won’t happen, I have to work with Y/N anyway”, Harrison refused.

“On a Friday night?” Tom said. “You’re kidding, right?”

Harrison shook his head.

“Okay then, I’ll tell Tracy that she can go on a date with me instead”, Tom said.

“Have fun, mate”, Harrison replied, shaking his head. “Now, do you actually have something to tell me or can I leave?”

Tom laughed. “Yes, I do, you div.”

Harrison leaned in as Tom turned his computer screen so he could see.

“Guess who was seen in Paris last night?” Tom asked.

“Sakharov?” Harrison guessed.

“That’s right”, Tom said. “He was seen in a restaurant not too far from the Eiffel Tower.”

“So that means he’s still in Paris”, Harrison said. “But there’s nothing we can do because of the ESISC.”

“Yeah well, maybe Y/N has an idea?” Tom suggested. “After all, she came on our territory without us even knowing.”

Harrison thought about it for a minute before nodding his head.

“I’ll talk to her”, he said.

 Your POV

 You sat down in the armchair in front of Nicola’s desk, wondering what was going to happen. She hadn’t said a word ever since she had asked you to follow her and you couldn’t help but to think it was a bad sign.

“You need to forgive agent Osterfield”, Nicola finally said. “He was only defending himself.”

You sighed, putting a strand of your hair behind your ears before saying:

“Easier said than done. And after all, I’m not used to work with a partner, I’m not even supposed to. I guess it makes me angry to be forced to work with him.

“I understand”, Nicola said sympathetically. “I really do. Would you prefer it if I talked to your bosses to see if you can work alone?”

You thought about it for a minute. You remembered the look on Harrison’s face when you had helped him to go through his old partner’s stuff, you remembered how he had looked so thankful for your presence. You also remembered how easy it had been to work with him when you had pushed aside the fact he had hurt you. You also thought about the fact you would be once again alone if you refused to work with him. To be honest, a week ago you would have probably preferred it, but now you thought that maybe the partner thing was worth a try. You had spent an entire year trying to get to Sakharov and never succeeding, except maybe at the auction, where you would have probably succeeded if Harrison hadn’t been there, but apart from that, you had just spent the loneliest year in your life searching for a needle in a ball of hay as big as the planet. And you weren’t sure if you wanted to return to that life of loneliness. After all, Harrison had saved your life this morning.

“No”, you finally said. “I’ll work with him. I’ll apologize for my behaviour and we’ll catch Sakharov together.���

A kind smile warmed Nicola’s eyes.

“I’m so glad to hear that, Y/N”, she said. “You’ll tell this to him as soon as you get out of my office. But for now, I actually have to talk to you.”

You looked at her questioningly.

“Why were there men in your apartment this morning?” she asked.

“I let them in”, you admitted. “They knocked on my door and they said they had to talk to me. They used my undercover name, Anna Ivachov, and I had seen one of them at the auction two weeks ago. I figured I should let them in to try to find something else about Sakharov but I didn’t have the time.”

“And why is so?” Nicola asked.

“One of them pointed his gun at me”, you continued. “So I killed them. Well, I killed one of them and agent Osterfield came in and killed the other.”

“Yeah, he had told me about that part of the story”, she said. “Anything else?”

You thought about it for a moment. “One of them said that they had to bring me to their boss alive. I assume Sakharov’s that boss.”

Nicola nodded her head. “That would make sense.”

“But why would Sakharov want me?” you asked, hoping that maybe she had the answer.

“I have no idea”, she answered. “Maybe because you almost killed him?”

“Yeah, that’s possible”, you said.

Silence fell upon the two of you as you looked at your hands, wondering if that was enough for him to want you. Alive. It was the alive part you didn’t understand. Why didn’t he want to kill you?

“By the way”, Nicola said, “I’m sorry to inform you about that but Sakharov isn’t on our territory anymore and we haven’t been granted entry on the ESISC’s territory.”

“Where is he exactly?” you asked.

“Paris”, Nicola answered. “I’ll let you figure with agent Osterfield what you should do. I’m not saying you should go to Paris but…”

“Would that put you in trouble?” you cut her.

“Definitely would”, she admitted.

“I’ll talk to agent Osterfield”, you said as you got up from your chair.

“Don’t do anything stupid”, Nicola said.

You smiled to her. “Don’t worry.”

On that note you left her office, going straight to the meditation room because your intuition told you that it was there you were going to find Harrison.

He was indeed there. You made sure to make some noise so you wouldn’t startle him by talking.

“We need to talk”, you said.

He turned to look at you, seemingly startled. Hadn’t he heard you?

“Yeah we do”, he said.

“Not here”, you added and he looked at you questioningly.

“And why is that?” he asked.

“I haven’t eaten breakfast and I think I might as well kill you if I don’t eat anything in the next five minutes”, you stated.

He seemed taken aback by your reply, but he got up nonetheless.

“There’s a coffee shop down the road”, he said.

“Sounds lovely”, you replied before heading out of the room, not even looking to see if he had followed you.

You walked directly towards the elevator, stopping only as you waited for its doors to open.

“What did Nicola want?” Harrison asked as he stopped beside you.

“Just my version of what happened this morning, I think”, you answered.

You both got in the elevator and the doors closed. Harrison was standing right next to you and for a moment, you lost your train of thoughts. You didn’t even remember what you had wanted to tell him.

“Sorry for earlier”, he said and suddenly your train of thoughts came back.

“Oh, don’t be, you were right. I’ve been a bitch ever since the auction”, you said. “I’m sorry, this is all just new to me.”

“What do you mean?” he asked as you got out of the elevator and started walking to the coffee shop.

“Well, I’ve always worked alone”, you explained. “I guess at first I didn’t like the thought of working with you, especially after what you have done.

“About that, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that”, he apologized.

“Well, I shouldn’t have attacked you so I guess we’re even?” you said.

He smiled softly and your heart skipped a beat. What the hell was going on?

“I guess we’re even”, he repeated as he opened the coffee shop’s door to let you in.

You ordered your food before heading to a table. You took a bite of your croissant as Harrison sat in front of you, a simple coffee mug in his hands.

“You aren’t eating anything?” you asked.

He shook his head before taking a sip of his coffee.

“I’m not really hungry in the morning”, he explained.

As you took another bite of your croissant, you couldn’t help but to notice how attractive he looked. Well, you had already noticed that the first time you had seen him but this time, it was different. It was just so… real.

“So what did you want to talk about?” he asked.

“Nicola informed me that Sakharov is currently in Paris”, you said.

“Yeah, and the ESISC refused our entry on their territory”, he stated.

“Fortunately for us, I’m an expert at entering a country without anyone knowing”, you said, a small smile forming on your lips.

“Figured that out already”, he said as a smile spread on his own lips.

“So, guess what?” you said.

“What?” he asked.

“We’re going to Paris.”

Read part six here!

Okay, I’ll start a taglist because why not, if you don’t want to be on the taglist tell me and I’ll take you off, I just want my story to be seen by as much people as possible haha, I’m sorry if it annoys you or whatever, and if I didn’t put you but you wanna be in the list, hit me up!

@the-quackson-claxon, @theblxefox, @iron-spiderr, @starksparker, @thewiseandfree, @h-osterfield, @peachesholland, @peachyhollands, @tomhllvnds, @tomnhaznsamnharry, @indiancollegegirl, @tbhollandd, @spiderlingss, @spidey-loving-starkid, @one-curly-spider-boi, @spider-mendes, @lilyholland

[written-rebellion]

Perfect Distractions

A/N: Here it is: my waddling first step into the Outlander fanfiction community. I have one-shots too but why not start with a giant multi-part au? What could possibly go wrong? Part One was meant to be one whole 9pg chapter, but I split it up into two for post length reasons, which is why this chapter ends pretty abruptly. It’s also why both posts are going up at the same time. Anywayy, please enjoy! All typos and mistakes are mine (but ultimately Murtagh’s fault). And thanks again to @scotsmanandsassenach for pushing me to do this!

Claire studies too hard, Jamie’s a completely smitten puppy, and all the facts of this fanfic are contrived specifically to make fluffy university/modern-day au scenarios. Please let me know what you think! #MurtaghMadeMeDoIt

Part One: Perfect Distractions | Chapter 1

Claire was marveling at the way her pen twirled absently through her fingers. With only a little momentum, a slight dip from her hand, the thin plastic body spun in oddly mesmerizing circles that had served as the perfect distraction from her textbook for the last 20 minutes.

Jesus H. Christ. It had been a whole 20 minutes. She dropped her pen onto the open book and pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes with an enduring sigh.

Studying at home instead of the library was supposed to be a nice a change of pace but now, here she was with 20 minutes wasted. 20 pages left to read, summarize, understand… absorb…

Her eyes blinked open a moment later. She shot up from her desk so fast it jostled the pen stuck to her cheek and sent it clattering to the floor.

Another sigh shuddered through her as she sunk from her chair to retrieve the pen. More annoyed with herself than the pen, she was secretly glad for the legitimate distraction, however small.

She wanted to be a surgeon, she did. There were very few things in her life she was so adamantly sure about. But, in the sea of medical terms she found herself sailing through tonight, all of that seemed so far into the future. It was a lighthouse she wished the tide would simply deliver her to, if only so she could close her eyes with the calming promise of security and— Where did that fucking pen go?

There was another clattering sound behind her and she froze, turning slowly from underneath her desk.

There were rocks. On her floor.

Rocks.

Pebbles really, like that somehow made the very notion less absurd. She was on the third floor of the dormitories and was seriously considering the likelihood of sleep-deprivation-induced hallucinations.

And then there were more. Pebbles, she means. They flew in from the open window to her right, one striking the metal of her reading lamp with a loud clang. She winced at the sound and caught a soft “Fuck!” from outside.

She huffed. That accent was painfully familiar.

She made for the window in a flurry of movement that almost cracked her head against the desk. When she peered out, arms resting unimpressed on the windowsill, her anger looped down and back up in her stomach at the sight of him.

“My window is open, you idiot,” she seethed in a stage whisper.

“Aye,” he said with a grimace. “Uh, I noticed.”

“And yet you threw more rocks.”

“I noticed the second time, alright?” he said, indignant. He ran a hand through his red curls, muttering something in Gaelic to himself, and Claire had to stop herself from smiling.

Angry. She was supposed to be angry. He was disrupting her very productive and enlightening study time, after all.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He looked back up at her, glinting eyes sending something entirely different looping through her stomach.

“Well,” he said, stretching out the word as he absently kicked the ground. “That’s a verra good question, Sassenach.”

“Is it?”

“Aye.” He nodded. “So good in fact, ye’ll have to come down here if ye want it answered.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, focusing on his mop of auburn in the otherwise dark, midnight yard.

“And why would I want to do that?”

“Another fine question.” He smiled, gesturing vaguely to the space around him.

She bit her lip, sending a backwards glance to her bruised reading lamp and the pile of culprits sitting dumb on the floor.

“Who even throws stones at people’s windows anymore?” Anger aside, fake or otherwise, she was legitimately asking.

He tilted his head at her. “Do… do people no’ do this?”

Christ, he was serious. It was almost endearing and certainly infuriating.

“I assure you, it’s never happened to me.”

A low whistle. “Ah well, then I apologize—”

“Thank y—“

“—for the terribly boring life ye’ve lived till now, Sassenach.”

“Ooh, I could smack you for that.”

“Aye, ye could.” He laughed. “But ye’d still have to come down here to do it, no?”

Her face remained skeptical but from below the window, her foot had been tapping the whole time, insistent and anxious. She needed the distraction. Desperately. But she wasn’t about to admit that to him, nor the fact that her mind had been floundering in an ocean of thought but had somehow immediately stilled when their eyes met.

She gaped at herself for half a second, considering the attractive prospect of drowning and taking him with her— God, she needed a break.

With her best attempt at a resigned huff, she glowered down at him.

“Wait there, you bloody Scot.”

---

Jamie saw her pull away from the window and broke into a wide grin, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets as he kicked his heel into the dirt. He had only the mere minutes of her descent to quell the celebratory thumping in his chest, rid his mind of the amused disdain that drew contradictory lines all over her beautiful pale face. He turned his back from the window and let the night air fill his chest. What was taking her so long? Had she changed her mind? Was he going to end up sleeping here under her window all night, waiting? She—

“What the hell do you look so pleased about?”

“Claire!” He spun around fast enough to blame his lack of breath on that, and not on the sight of her.

She was in track pants and a zipped-up hoodie, with hair like a brown cloud had nestled around her head in a personal halo. Saint Clare, he thought, the patron of embroidery and gilding like the way the back light of the dormitories painted little wisps of ethereal gold into her hair. The shadows under her eyes only reminded him of every other sleep-deprived, caffeine-addled person in her program, or on campus for that matter. But on her, they looked like determination. There were stray blue pen marks arcing all over her right cheek, which he hadn’t noticed in the window and, by the looks of things, she hadn’t noticed at all. He smirked.

The corner of her mouth twitched up too, then down as if she’d reconsidered.

“What, no Sassenach this time?”

He chuckled to hide the quiver in his voice. “Sorry, ye just scairt me, is all.”

“Well that makes two of us,” she said, suddenly holding out her closed fist to him.

He stared at it, then her, eyebrows drawn close together. His hand moved a tentative inch and he reigned it back, thinking against it.

She rolled her eyes at him, using her free hand to grab his and place it under her fist. Then, without warning, dropped a fistful of stones into his open palm.

“These belong to you, I presume?”

The weight of the pebbles hit him like his dawning understanding. He laughed, for real this time.

“Technically, they’re from yer yard,” he said, emptying his palm onto the ground between them. “But thanks for making the trip anyway.”

“Mhmm.” She nodded. “So, why are you here?”

He looked blankly at her, and she glared at him from under her lashes.

“You promised me an answer, James Fraser.”

“Ye know, ye can call me Jamie. All my friends do.”

“You?” She blinked at him. “Friends?”

“Och, ye smacked me after all.”

She folded her arms across her chest, but he could see the faint traces of a smile, the cracks in her otherwise flawless fury.

“Oh alright,” he conceded. “Ye weren’t at the library today, ken?”

Silence hung about them, until Claire shook her head.

“Wait, that’s it?!”

Read Chapter 2

[keichanz]

Soulmates AU

Because I’m too lazy and tired to think up a title right now.

For the anon who requested prompt number 1 from this post.

Edit: Holy fucking shit there are so many errors and typos please ignore them until I get around to fixing them lmao

Kagome stared down in a mixture of abject horror and absolute elation at the name that had just materialized moments ago on the skin of her right wrist. She was on her way to work on an average Thursday morning, taking the train as she did every day to get to her job as an archery instructor at a special martial arts gym run by her best friend. It definitely had not been there when she’d woken up that morning, and she’d only noticed it because she’d caught a glimpse of black when she’d taken a sip of her Starbucks coffee.

The Soulmate Mark, otherwise known as the name of your Soulmate, only showed up under one condition: you were going to meet them that day, usually within the first hour after it appears. Typically this would be a cause for great happiness and excitement. After all, although everyone is born with a Soulmate, it was still rare that Soulmates actually ended up together because more often than not they lived in different states or even countries. Some received them as young as a day old, while others weren’t lucky enough to get them until they were old and gray. So for it to appear when you’re only in your twenties was a blessing, something to celebrate and remember the day it happened for all of your days.

And usually Kagome would be ecstatic, bouncing off the walls even, and phone everybody she knew…had the name that appeared on her wrist not been in ancient Japanese kana. 

That…wasn’t normal, was it? Kagome blinked down at the characters, able to recognize them for what they were because of her background growing up on a shrine. Her mother’s Mark was in regular Japanese in her deceased father’s handwriting. Sango’s was similar, with her mark being the smooth, elegant characters of her Soulmate’s name in his flowing script. A childhood friend she’d recently reconnected with had gotten her Mark a few months ago in her significant other’s handwriting, also in plain Japanese. 

So why…why was her Mark written in characters that dated back to the Feudal Era? She studied the black ink intently, and found herself actually admiring how it looked. The characters that made up his name were sort of rough around the edges, appearing to be a scrawl more than anything as if written in hasty brush strokes. It wasn’t neat, and yet Kagome had no problem at all deciphering that characters that made up her Soulmate’s name. It was a strange contradiction, and Kagome wondered what the figure the name belonged to was like.

The loud screech of the train braking abruptly brought her out of her thoughts and Kagome blinked again before shaking her head and disembarking. Despite her confusion, elation and slight trepidation, she didn’t have time to dwell on her situation at the moment. Her shift started in half an hour and even though the gym was only a five-minute walk from the station, she needed to prepare for the lessons that day, ranging from beginner to advanced.

Unfortunately, by the time she hurried through the doors of the gym seventeen minutes later due to some unforeseen circumstances including a cyclist, her coffee, and a stained t-shirt, her questionable Soulmate Mark had all but disappeared from her mind as she mentally rolled through the day’s agenda, what needed to be done, what bows she needed to retrieve and lay out for the students who didn’t have one of their own, crap she needed to set up the targets, did the new arm guards come in yet, how many students needed to have their bows already strung, and she really hoped she had a change of clothes somewhere in the archery room. And shit, wasn’t the IT guy supposed to come in today? Damn her stupid computer and its stupid tendency to get stupid viruses! The only thing she ever did on there was play solitaire and go to one stinkin’ website to order more archery supplies! How did it even happen?!

Donned in white judogi with a black belt and talking with her husband and Soulmate, Sango almost missed her best friend’s hasty entrance and distracted rush toward the back of the gym where the door to her archery lessons took place in had it not been for Miroku’s curious raised eyebrow. “Kagome!” she called, jogging over to catch her before she disappeared from view. “Wait, Kagome, I have to tell you—”

“Sorry, Sango, can’t talk, I’m running late today,” Kagome interrupted a bit breathlessly without stopping, failing to notice her friend’s increasingly panicked look the closer she got to the door. “Spilled coffee, gotta change my shirt, lot to do, talk after lessons, okay?” She reached for the knob and yanked the door open.

“Wait! Kagome, listen, do you remember Miroku’s friend—”

“Just send the IT man back when he gets here, thanks San!”

“That’s what I’m tryin—!”

The door slammed shut, Kagome dropped her purse to the floor and then immediately started tugging off her coffee-stained t-shirt, deciding she’d just change into one of the old kosodes she supplied if one of her students desired to wear one during lessons. Most of them were a little too big for her, and smelled funky – she kept forgetting to take them home and launder them – but they would serve her purpose well enough, until she could go home during lunch and change into a fresh t-shirt. And, dammit, she was getting another coffee since she wasn’t able to enjoy her first one this morning. Stupid bicyclist. There were bicycles lanes for a reason…

Kagome dropped the dirty shirt to the floor on her way to the supply closet in the back of the room, snatched a few Kleenex from her desk on her way by to wipe off the coffee residue on her stomach, reached for the door handle—

And froze. Kagome’s back stiffened, her eyes went wide, and the color drained from her face as, painstakingly slowly, she turned her head toward her desk and met the very wide stricken golden eyes of a furiously blushing silver-haired man in her desk chair, one clawed hand lying immobile on the keyboard to her computer while the other hovered over the mouse, frozen in place.

The two stared at each other silently for what seemed like a small eternity, one in increasing mortification and the other with a rapidly growing mixture of awkwardness and embarrassment and had Kagome not been so distracted by the fact that there was a complete and total (but hot) stranger sitting at her desk, she might have noticed the spark of male appreciation in those amber depths. The silence seemed to stretch on forever and in that time Kagome’s face rivaled that of a tomato and still the (hot) stranger didn’t move, didn’t look away.

“…Uh—”

Kagome shrieked, yanked open the closet door and dove inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She heard lurid cursing from the other side as she blindly groped around for a kosode in the darkness and then hastily shrugged it on, effectively hiding the pink lace bra that whoever the hell was out there had gotten good a very good look at. “Who are you and why are you in my classroom?!” she screamed through the door, not quite ready to go out and face him—if he was even still there.

“—Christ—” Well, that answered that. “—I’m the goddamn IT guy,” he yelled back to her then grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “—ears are still ringing.”

“Fine,” Kagome snapped, glaring at the door even though the recipient couldn’t see it. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re in my classroom!”

The supposed IT man swore again. “Sango sent me in to—Jesus, this is stupid, would you come out of there already?!” There was a note of impatience to his voice and Kagome could have sworn she heard a growl.

“You’re stupid,” Kagome muttered petulantly back but reluctantly obeyed, making sure the kosode was tied securely before cracking open the door, peering out, and then exiting the closed in space. She kept her arms tightly folded across her chest as she regarded the silver-haired man with narrowed eyes. He was standing in front of the closet now with his arms crossed over his chest, a scowl on his red face and his golden eyes glaring at her in irritation. Aggravated herself, Kagome was still blushing as she warily asked, “What did Sango send you in to do?”

He raised a brow and snorted. “Keh. Thought that’d be obvious. IT guy?” He waved a hand toward the desk where her computer sat. “I fix computers?”

Kagome’s flush deepened and she murmured, “Oh,” looking a bit sheepish that she hadn’t put two and two together herself but then her earlier ire returned and she glared accusingly at him. “You pervert,” she hissed and he sputtered in what she guessed was disagreement. “Why the hell didn’t you say anything?! I can’t believe you just let me—oh my God,” she moaned, dropping her heated face in her hands, embarrassed all over again. The IT guy saw her in her bra. She was going to die.

“I am not!” he protested vehemently, the scowl back on his face and—yes, he was growling, Kagome discovered. What the— “You’re the one who walked in here and started stripping!”

Kagome’s mouth dropped. “Hey—this is my classroom! And it’s not like I expected anybody to be in here! It’s normally empty!” That was when she recalled her best friend trying to tell her something before she’d entered the room, and she’d been in such a hurry to change and get everything prepared for her 9 am class, she couldn’t be bothered to wait and hear her now. Now Kagome was wishing she’d waited to hear Sango’s explanation as to what lie beyond the door to her classroom.

He sneered at her. “Well next time why don’t you listen when someone’s trying to tell you that there’s someone else inside the room you’re going into!”

The archery instructor opened her mouth, closed it, then pouted, annoyed that she couldn’t really argue that point because hadn’t she just told herself the same thing? Still, she mumbled under her breath about rude IT guys and huffily stuck her nose in the air, trying to appear regal and unaffected by it all, but the affect was ruined by the still-going-strong blush coloring her cheeks a vivid shade of scarlet.

The silver-haired man snorted, seemed to relax a little at her apparent defeat – to him anyway – then turned his head, but gave her a calculating, sidelong glance. “Besides,” he muttered suddenly, drawing her narrow-eyed attention. “…S’not like I saw anything interesting anyhow.”

Kagome gaped for the second time in as many minutes and she reacted without thinking, the movement pure reflex. With a cry of outrage she flung her palm toward his face in slap the shit out of him but then gasped when he caught her wrist mid-slap and glowered darkly at her and yep, he was definitely growling.

“Wench—” he started, then abruptly caught himself off as his gaze flicked to the wrist he held in his hand—her right wrist and Kagome gasped when she realized what he was staring at so intently with suddenly wide whiskey-colored eyes. Panicking, Kagome tugged at her wrist, trying to escape the tight grip he had on it, but his hold was firm and it was like he didn’t even notice her valiant tugging, his eyes fixated on her Mark with something flashing in his eyes that Kagome couldn’t quite place. Dread? Fearful astonishment? Cautious hope? Wait, what—

“Kagome,” he suddenly whispered and said woman’s world came to a screeching halt.

Instantly ceasing her attempts to escape his grip, Kagome stared in dawning horror at the man who had probably-most-definitely seen her in her bra and swallowing the suddenly lump in her throat, she dropped her gaze to his hand, drove forward to latch onto his right wrist and yank it up to eyelevel, ignoring his grunt of surprise. Then she whimpered because no matter how hard she tried to deny it, no matter how vehemently she told herself this was not happening, the proof was staring her right in the face: her name in precise blank ink, blazoned across his wrist in clear Japanese—Kagome.

Face pale, heart thundering in her chest, Kagome slowly lifted her gaze up to his face and found him already staring at her, his expression similar to her own. He’d loosened the hold he had on her wrist and he was cradling her hand in his own, his thumb absently sweeping across the Mark that tattooed the pale flesh of her own wrist in ancient Japanese kana—Inuyasha.

They stared at each other silently for an undetermined amount of time, minds whirling, hearts racing until each of their expressions morphed a horrified mask of adamant disbelief, and then they their mouths opened simultaneously and three words fell from two sets of lips.

“Oh, hell no!”  

There is probably definitely going to be a part two. Because this was just too fun to write lmao.