#and that led me to think about dead apple because I could never really wrap my head around that part

[sableeira]

Was the reason why Shibusawa’s ability didn’t really effect Fyodor because it would have created a singularity? Because if Fyodor’s ability kills him while they are split into two beings that would be a pretty bad situation for him.

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

hear those bells ring: chapter 3 (a deaf!bakugo x reader fic)

Summary: Bakugo wakes up with his hearing and a bunch of questions.

Pairings: Katsuki Bakugo x Reader; Katsuki Bakugo x You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, descriptions of gore, and adult language.

A/N: Sorry for the wait on ch 3, I had to work over the weekend. Anyway, hope you enjoy! 

~*~*~ No spoilers or anything. This is just a self-indulgent AU fic with aged up characters. Everyone’s in their mid-20s. Fic title is from a song called “Achilles Come Down.”

Ao3 Link: Here

Ch 1 Tumblr Link: Here

Ch 2 Tumblr Link: Here

Bakugo woke up confused, disoriented, and pissed off. 

He bolted upright, the taste of smoke and ash still on his tongue, but when he whipped his head from side to side, there was no fire, no burning asphalt, no villain, only the empty, dark expanse of his apartment. 

But something was still tugging at him, fucking incessantly, and it took him a moment to realize it was his phone alarm. 

Red eyes flicked to the device on his bedside table, and even though its continuous siren was like nails on a chalkboard, Bakugo found himself unable to move, unable to stop it. 

Because he could hear the alarm. Clearly. Loudly. 

He hadn’t been able to hear his phone alarm in weeks, not really. It was nothing more than a muffled tone that petered out toward the end as it rose in pitch and frequency. Thankfully, Bakugo’s internal alarm got him up most days around the sun, but he’d been late to morning patrols a handful of times. 

But now… 

Numbly, Bakugo finally reached out and tapped his phone. His ears rang slightly in the ensuing silence, but it was barely perceptible, nothing like the perpetual buzzing he’d been living with, like a hive of bees had taken up residence in his head. 

The quiet, after so long, was almost… unsettling. 

And it was all because of that woman. He was sure of it. 

Bakugo pressed his lips into a thin line as he thought about you, the memories of last night flooding back. The blurry image of your face, crouched over him, splattered in a thin mist of red blood and dusted with white plaster. He couldn’t remember much from right after he blasted that villain into the fucking dirt. He remembered the feel of glass breaking around him, and pain, a lot of fucking pain, but then it was black until you appeared. When he’d opened his eyes and met yours, he recalled thinking he should be in more pain, but then you spoke to him and derailed all coherent thought. 

Because he’d heard you. Clear as fucking day. 

That immediately drew his attention, and so did the blood all over your hands. 

There was a lot of it. Way too fucking much for nicking yourself on some glass or whatever bullshit excuse you gave. And Bakugo knew it was bullshit. You weren’t a convincing liar. Well, maybe to some idiot extras you would be, but not to him. He clocked the way you stuttered, the way you fidgeted and averted your eyes. And when you looked at him… fuck, your face was so goddamn guilty. 

Why, he had no idea. 

But he did know one thing. 

You had a healing quirk. There was no other explanation. 

Even if he hadn’t just miraculously recovered the hearing that a doctor told him he would never get back, there were a lot of other little discrepancies. His left arm, for one. Bakugo remembered how it felt when the villain’s asphalt wrapped around his limb, the burning, scalding agony of it. But now, the skin was just pink and barely blistered in some places. 

Then there was the blood. 

When he’d gotten home after ditching the crime scene, Bakugo had immediately beelined for his bathroom to take a shower. But, when he stripped off his hoodie, he realized it was heavier than it should be right before he noticed it was dripping onto his floor. Dripping blood. Without thinking, he’d wrung the hoodie out on the bathroom floor, and a fuck ton of red liquid seeped out of it. 

He had immediately dropped the jacket and started scanning his body in the bathroom mirror, but besides the shallow gash on his abdomen, the burned arm, and a few other minor scrapes and bruises, he was uninjured. 

But… his back was coated in red, and so were the seat of his dark jeans and boxer briefs. It was almost like… he’d been lying in a pool of blood. 

So, you had to be a healer. You just had to be. 

Unfortunately, he hadn’t been able to confirm this since the cops had been circling you like vultures. He also hadn’t wanted to be bitched at by any more heroes, or the fucking media, so he made himself scarce. 

But he needed to see you again. Needed to hear the truth from your own mouth. 

And maybe he could coax you into a deal. 

The doctor Bakugo spoke to yesterday obviously hadn’t known what the hell he was talking about. He had made it sound impossible to fix the blond’s ears, and yet you’d somehow done it easily, in the middle of a fucking battlefield. 

With that kind of power, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about going deaf or designing stupid hearing aids with some company. 

With that kind of power, Dynamight would become Japan’s Number One Hero in no time. 

But first, he had to find you. 

Resolved, Bakugo shoved the covers off and slid out of bed, but before he could make it to his bathroom, someone started knocking on his front door. 

No, not knocking. Banging. It sounded like they were trying to break the fucking door down. 

“Bakubroooooooo!” 

“Gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” Bakugo grumbled as he padded to his front door. He was only dressed in boxer briefs, but that’s what the idiot got for barging over so early in the damn morning. 

The banging persisted, growing louder and more fervent. 

“I’m fuckin’ comin!” the blond shouted just before he undid the deadbolt and wrenched open the door. 

Eijiro Kirishima, dressed in his Red Riot costume, blinked on the other side of the threshold, his fist still raised to knock. 

“What the fuck, bro?” he asked after a moment of just staring at Bakugo. 

The blond immediately scowled. “That’s my fuckin’ line. What are you doing breaking down my door at six in the damn morning?” 

“Excuse me?” his patrol and agency partner scoffed. “I’m obviously coming to check that you’re not dead since you’ve been MIA for over twenty-four hours.” 

“What?” Bakugo frowned. “I saw you yesterday morning for patrol.” 

“Noooooo,” Kirishima drawled like Bakugo was a particularly stupid child. “That was two days ago, bro. Then that night, I see you all over the damn news, and no one could get ahold of you all day yesterday. I would have come to check on you sooner, but I’ve been having to play damage control with the media because someone decided to blow up a residential neighborhood.” 

“Two days?” Bakugo echoed with a furrowed brow. He’d slept that long? 

“Have you been passed out this whole time, dude?” Kirishima groaned as he shouldered his way into the apartment. “I guess that means you got none of our messages?” 

“Our?” the blond grumbled as he closed the door and followed the redhead to the kitchen bar. 

“Yeah, Denki, Mina, Sero.” Kirishima waved his hand dismissively, marching over to the counter where Bakugo kept the fruit and selecting an apple from the wire basket. “I even asked Izuku to message you, just to see if he’d actually get a rise and response from you.” 

“I don’t need stupid Deku knowing about my problems, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo growled before he stomped over to his fridge to see what he had to eat because he was suddenly starving. 

“Well, that would imply I know your problems, Oh Great Lord Dynamight,” Kirishima snorted and took a bite of apple. “So, what the fuck happened the other night?” 

“I blew up a residential neighborhood,” the blond deadpanned as he turned on his stove, cracking a few eggs into a skillet. 

“Yeah, I saw that. I was more wondering about what led up to it.” 

“What the fuck do you think led up to it?” Bakugo snapped, rummaging through his cupboard for seasonings. “I was walking home from getting a drink, and a damn villain just popped up in front of me.” 

“From what I heard, there were other heroes there, too,” the redhead mumbled around another bite of apple. 

“Yeah, fuckin’ useless extras,” Bakugo sneered as he started to whisk his eggs with a pair of chopsticks, throwing in some leftover white rice and a bit of nori. “They obviously weren’t getting anywhere, and the bastard was tearing up the street, so I stepped in.” 

“To finish destroying the street?” Kirishima cocked an eyebrow, chewing noisily. 

“Fuck off,” the blond said with an eyeroll. 

Internally, though, Bakugo knew the redhead was right. He’d been sloppy, careless, probably still borderline drunk. But he’d just been so angry about the doctor’s appointment, his fucked-up ears, his bleak and silent future. He had just wanted to break something, hurt someone, consequences be damned. 

Except now the consequences were catching up to him. 

Fuck, he didn’t even want to think about what his citizen’s approval rating must be now. 

Silence stretched between the two pro heroes for several long minutes, in which Bakugo finished making his breakfast and Kirishima finished gnawing on his apple core. The blond quickly shoveled a few bites of eggs and rice into his mouth, but his scarlet eyes kept flicking over to the redhead. 

“How bad?” he finally asked. 

Kirishima, to his credit, had learned how to translate Bakugo’s curt grunts years ago. 

“Actually, if I’m being honest, it’s not that bad,” he sighed, tossing the apple core in the trash and scratching at the back of his head. “Could be worse. From the reports I read, most of the damage—besides the road—is superficial. Broken windows, charred and peeling paint, a few busted cars that we’re still trying to figure out if our insurance or the city’s will pay for. It also helped that you saved two people. That definitely softened the blow.” 

“Two?” Bakugo mumbled around one of his last bites. “I just remember the stupid extra on the street that I shoved out of the way.” 

As the memory flashed through his mind, Bakugo frowned. He’d shoved that extra out of the way and got snatched by a giant asphalt hand for his troubles. The blond’s red eyes dropped to his pink and blotchy left arm and then trailed over to his chest. He recalled the sensation of his ribs snapping under pressure, but now only a mild soreness lingered after he took a deep breath. Yet another inconsistency… 

“Yeah, two,” Kirishima said and drew Bakugo out of his thoughts. “Do you seriously not even remember your own heroics? And that girl had such nice things to say about you, too.” 

“Girl?” Bakugo snapped his head up. “The girl whose… apartment I fell into?” 

“Crashed into, dude,” the redhead snorted, but then he narrowed his eyes as a sly smirk tugged at his lips. “But yeah. Sounds like you remember her, huh?” 

Bakugo didn’t like the smug look on his friend’s face. 

“I remember her fuckin’ yellin’ at me.” The blond scowled. “Like I wrecked her place on purpose and didn’t just save her whole block from a lunatic.” 

“I mean, to be fair, if you crashed into my house, bro, I would have yelled at you, too.” Kirishima grinned. “But don’t worry, she’s fine. In fact, when she called the agency yesterday, she asked for you specifically.” 

“She did? Why?” Did she want to confess her healing quirk? Fuck, were there side effects Bakugo didn’t know about? 

“Bro, seriously.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “You’re Japan’s Number Two Hero, and you saved her life. And, like Mina keeps telling you, you’re not as ugly when you stop scowling.” 

“Shut the fuck up.” Bakugo flipped him off before he went to dump the dishes in the sink. 

“Yes, dear.” The redhead smirked. “But, in all seriousness, she called to figure out how to file a claim with our insurance. Or at least that’s what she said, but she also asked how you were doing, and she actually sounded genuinely worried.” 

Worried that a random side effect was going to kill him? Or worried that he would say something about her quirk? She’d obviously hidden it for a reason, tried to lie for a reason. 

And Bakugo was determined to find out just what that reason was. 

“Yeah, well, I’m fine,” he grunted as he rinsed off his plate and put it on the drying rack. “Just a few scrapes and bruises.” 

“I can see that,” Kirishima said as he eyed the butterfly stitches stretched across the gash on Bakugo’s abdomen. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t find you dead in a pool of your own blood. That woulda been a real bummer way to start the morning.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Bakugo muttered before he averted his eyes to the living room window across from him. “So… what did you tell her?” 

“The girl?” 

“No, you’re fuckin’ mom,” the blond scoffed. 

“Oh, speaking of moms, you might want to text Mitsuki. I called her last night after you ignored my billionth text, so she’s probably going crazy wondering where you are.” Kirishima grinned and then immediately dodged out of the way as Bakugo hurled a fork at him. 

“You bastard!” Bakugo hissed. “Now, I’m going to have to see that hag this weekend or she’s gonna fuckin’ barge over here.” 

“Maybe you should turn the ringer up on your phone.” The other hero shrugged, ducking again when Bakugo chucked an apple in his direction. 

The blond scowled at his friend, but he didn’t reply. 

If you and your quirk were the real deal, Bakugo wouldn’t have to worry about missing a call ever again. 

When Kirishima realized the projectiles had stopped, he popped his head over the back of the couch and smirked. “But to answer your previous question, I told the girl we would handle the insurance claim on our end if she sent us her info. And I didn’t really have anything to tell her about you since, like I’ve said, I thought you were dead. Kinda. I was at least thirty percent sure.” 

“Have you filed the insurance claim?” Bakugo asked. 

“No.” Kirishima shook his head. “She hasn’t sent in the info yet.” 

“Well… we should go get it from her.” 

This caused the redhead’s eyebrows to shoot up into his hairline, and the surprise on his face quickly made Bakugo backtrack. 

“I just… want to get this shitshow over with,” he grumbled as he averted his eyes again, but he could feel a traitorous heat crawling across the bridge of his nose. “The longer her apartment’s all fucked up, the longer the press is gonna rake me over the coals. The hero ranking’s aren’t far off, and I’m not going to lose to Deku again over some stupid broken windows.” 

“Righttttt,” Kirishima drawled, but his tone was mocking. “Okay, well, I know the hotel the police have set her up at. After we swing by the agency, we can head that way… to get her insurance info.” 

He still sounded unconvinced and like he wanted to needle Bakugo more, but the blond changed the subject quickly. 

“Why do we have to go to the agency?” Bakugo asked, and he frowned as he glanced back at his partner. “Even if I lost yesterday, my next scheduled patrol isn’t till tonight.” 

“Oh, I know.” Kirishima nodded solemnly. “But Nao wanted to have… a word with you ASAP, if I confirmed you weren’t dead.” 

“Fuckkkkkkk,” Bakugo groaned as he dropped his head back. If there was anything Bakugo hated more than the press, it was his actual PR manager. That old hag was good at her job, which meant she was always up Bakugo’s ass about something, and he knew she was going to have a field day with this shitfest. 

“Yeah, I’d recommend coffee and preemptive painkillers before we head in,” Kirishima said. “Plus, some putting on clothes. Maybe we can stop on the way and get her something sweet as a bribe.” 

“No amount of sugar is gonna make that bitch nice to me,” Bakugo grumbled before he spun on heel and started marching to his bedroom. 

“Maybe flowers then?” the redhead shouted after him. 

Bakugo slammed the door in response. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

“This is fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bakugo growled around his cargo, kicking his foot out at Kirishima. “Why did I listen to you? I’ve had to go shopping twice today now.” 

“Come on,” his friend laughed as he dodged the blow, which made the bags in his arms crinkle. “You can’t deny the flowers and cookies sweetened ole’ Nao up.” 

“To you,” Bakugo muttered, shifting the package in his arms a bit. “She still yelled at me for fifteen minutes.” 

“Well, you kinda deserved i—yow!” Kirishima yelped as Bakugo kicked him squarely in the ass this time. “This isn’t helping your image, bro!” 

“No one even knows it’s us,” the blond hissed. 

“Yeah, I guess the hoodies and sunglasses help,” the other pro hero mused. 

“And the fact that we’re carrying all this stupid shit.” 

“It’s not stupid.” Kirishima frowned in that earnest way of his, which made Bakugo roll his eyes. “It’s thoughtful to bring gifts to people who are having a difficult time. Especially when you made that time difficult. You basically kicked her out of her house, dude, not to mention her shop.” 

A wave of guilt actually washed through the blond, which he didn’t like. It made his throat feel tight and his stomach churn, and he glanced away from the redhead with a scowl. 

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue. “It’s not like we aren’t gonna pay for it.” 

The excuse felt flat, even to him. 

“Still,” Kirishima said as he shifted the bags in his grip, pulled out his phone, and consulted the map. “It must be stressful. So, we’re going to be nice to her, alright? Which starts with the gifts.” 

“And how is a fuckin’ fruit basket supposed to help?” Bakugo asked as he glared around the overflowing mound of crinkling plastic and bright fruit that he held against his chest. 

“Uh, one, it’s practical. Her apartment’s all fucked up, the power’s probably still out if not inconsistent on the street, and she’s been living in a hotel for two days, so she probably hasn’t had some nice fresh fruit in a while. And two, it looks nice!” 

“We coulda just left this shit at the hotel,” Bakugo grumbled. “She has to go back there eventually, right?” 

After old Nao chewed his ass out, Bakugo and Kirishima had gone to the hotel the police said they’d put you up in. Except you weren’t fucking there, and the number you left with Kirishima when you called the agency was going straight to voicemail, so here there were, fucking trekking through the city with a bunch of useless shit. 

Bakugo just kept reminding himself it would be worth it when he got the truth about your quirk out of you. 

“Nope,” Kirishima said and drew the blond out of his thoughts. “The city only pays the first two days after an emergency, unless the villain caused all the damage, but, uh, that’s not the case here, so we’ll be accommodating her until her apartment gets fixed up.” 

“At the agency?” Bakugo asked as his red eyes clicked over to his partner. 

As the Number Two and Three Heroes, the two of them had built a solid agency together. Bakugo still didn’t care for a bunch of extras riding on his tailcoats, so they had few sidekicks, all of whom reported to Kirishima and left him the fuck alone for the most part. But they owned a nice, sleek building in a nicer part of town, and one of the floors was dedicated to individual rooms with beds and other amenities. They were usually used when Bakugo, Kirishima, or the other sidekicks wanted to crash after patrol instead of going home—which Bakugo did more often than not—but they’d never had a civilian stay on the premises. 

Until now. 

“Yessssss, at the agency,” the redhead drawled as a shit-eating smirk crawled across his face. “So, you’ll be seeing a lot of her for the next couple weeks.” 

“Wipe that stupid look off your face.” Bakugo scowled and shouldered past the other hero, who snickered as he jogged to catch up. 

“Take the next left up ahead.” 

“Shut up!” the blond growled, but he followed the instructions. 

This was good news, though. Bakugo wouldn’t have to trek to this shitty part of town more than he had to. 

And he’d have a healer just down the hall. 

They marched along in silence for a few minutes, keeping their heads down, but there wasn’t much foot traffic. Bakugo was lost in his thoughts, planning out the questions he was going to ask you once he could distract Kirishima, but the redhead suddenly stopped in front of him. 

“Hey,” Bakugo grunted as the fruit basket crinkled against the other hero’s back. He hadn’t even notice Kiri get in front of him again. “What’s the damn hold up?” 

“Holy shit, dude,” Kirishima muttered, staring out at the road he’d just turned onto. 

“What?” the blond grumbled, shoving past his friend, but then he stopped, too. “Oh… yeah.” 

The street in front of him looked much worse in the bright light of midday. The road was a torn-up mess, more patches of dirt and gravel than actual asphalt. Most of the large-scale debris had been hauled away, but black scorch marks covered the sidewalks in long, dark smears. The walls of several businesses also bore charring along the facades, but most of the damage was focused in the center of the street. A crater nearly six feet deep was carved into the middle of the road, and the buildings on either side were blackened, their broken windows gaping voids. 

And then there was the hole in what Bakugo remembered as your second-floor apartment. A tarp hung over the wound, but one of the corners had come undone, flapping in the wind and giving split second glimpses into the darkened room beyond. 

Guilt crept up on him again, but Bakugo shoved it down, hunching over the fruit basket and nudging Kirishima. 

“Come on,” he muttered before he started moving forward, and a moment later he heard the crunch of boots on gravel as the redhead followed him. 

There were more people on this street than on the last several, but Bakugo could immediately tell they weren’t customers just passing through. People swept sidewalks, clearing away the last of the rubble and glass in front of their shops. Then a few old ladies stood under one awning shaking their heads, their hands laden with containers of food or gifts. 

Guess Kirishima hadn’t been wrong with this stupid idea. 

Then Bakugo realized some of those people were starting to look back at him, so he ducked his head further behind the fruit basket, grateful for his hoodie and sunglasses. 

But then suddenly he was there, standing in front of your ruined shop. His red eyes immediately flickered upward, but if there was a sign there before, it was gone now, burnt to ash. 

“What kinda shop did you say this was?” the blond asked under his breath as Kirishima paused beside him. 

“I’m… not sure,” the redhead said with a furrowed brow. “I don’t think she said on the phone. No time like the present to ask, though.” 

Before Bakugo could stop him, Kirishima shifted the bags in his arms, lifted one hand, and knocked on the charred metal frame of the front door. 

“Hello?” he called through the broken windows, followed by your name. “Anyone in there?” 

“Shit!” The squeaking voice was followed by a crashing sound somewhere in the shadows of the store. 

Bakugo didn’t speak a lot of English, but he did know curse words, and the sound of it made his lips twitch in amusement. 

“Are you okay?” Kirishima called out. “Can, uh, we come in?” 

“Yes, I’m fine!” the voice answered back in flustered Japanese. The words were fluent, though, with barely the hint of an accent. “And, um, I-I guess you can come in, but—” 

That was good enough for Bakugo. 

The blond shouldered past his partner, boots crunching over glass as he ducked into the darkened shop, and Kirishima sighed as he followed. 

The interior, if possible, looked worse than the outside. The room itself wasn’t very big, but it was a mess. Two metal rods had been embedded in the left and right walls at odd angles, obviously caused from the explosions, though Bakugo couldn’t tell what they used to be. Several pieces of blacked mannequins were scattered through the debris, and one wall was a charred mess of shelving and fabric, spots of color peeking through the black ash here and there. 

In the back, left corner were the remains of a tri-fold standing mirror, the ones where you could see yourself from different angles. Large shards of glass were missing, though, so the image of Bakugo and Kirishima standing backlit against the street was fractured. 

Last but not least, in the rear, right corner of the store was a counter that was half collapsed to the floor, behind which stood an empty doorframe that Bakugo assumed led to the back of the shop and upstairs. 

And it was from behind this broken counter that you popped up with a dustpan in one hand and a tiny, handheld broom in the other. 

The first thought Bakugo had was your face was rather plain… but in a somehow pleasing way. Like if his eyes had scanned over you in a crowd, something about the line of your jaw, the slope of your nose, the delicate quirk of your mouth would give him pause. 

His second thought was that his first one was stupid. You were just some extra, of course you would be plain and unmemorable. 

But his third thought was something about the color of your eyes was captivating, in a way that was damn fucking annoying. 

“Sorry, I was just… cleaning… up,” you said, slowly trailing off as your eyes met Bakugo’s. 

He saw the recognition flare in them immediately, followed by fear, and he couldn’t help the frown that twisted his face. 

Why were you afraid of him? 

“No, we’re sorry for barging in here like this,” Kirishima barreled on, oblivious to the stare off the other two occupants of the room were engaged in. “Didn’t mean to startle you. Oh! I’m being so rude. My name is Eijiro Kirishima, or you might know me as—” 

“Red Riot,” you breathed, finally tearing your eyes from Bakugo’s, and you flashed the redhead a half-smile that trembled along the edges. “We spoke on the phone.” 

“Yes.” Kirishima grinned, pointed teeth flashing in the dim light of the shop, before his gaze flickered over to the blond beside him. “And this is—” 

“Dynamight,” you finished once again, and you looked like you were trying desperately to maintain eye contact with the hardening hero, but then your eyes clicked back to Bakugo. You didn’t flash him a smile. “We’ve met.” 

“Oh, yeah, right,” Kiri chuckled awkwardly, and his arm jerked like he was going to rub the back of his neck, but the bags in his hands crinkled and stopped him. 

“What… do you have there?” you asked, frowning at the bags and the fruit basket the heroes were carrying. 

“Gifts!” the redhead declared as he hefted his arms up, and then he shuffled forward over charred fabric and glass and extended the bags to you. 

You blinked at him for a second, but you set the dustpan and handheld broom on the counter, where they promptly slid to the floor since the whole surface was slanted. You winced at the loud clatter and tried to cover it up by taking the bags from Kirishima, which crinkled loudly again as they transferred hands. 

Bakugo would be annoyed if he wasn’t more grateful that he could actually hear the innocuous little noise. 

“O-Oh, um, you shouldn’t have, really,” you started as you peeked into the bags, and then Bakugo swore he saw your eyebrow twitch once you saw what was inside. 

“It’s not much,” Kirishima said, and he was finally free to rub the back of his head and neck as his smile turned a little sheepish. “But, what with the state of your… apartment, we thought you might need some new clothes! And comfy clothes are the best after stressful days. These especially are super soft, we made sure of it. And, if you don’t like them, you could always sell them for a good chunk of change.” 

The redhead winked at you, not in an overly flirty manner, that was just how he was, but your cheeks flared as crimson as his hair, and your eyes dropped to the floor. 

Bakugo took the split instant to get a better look at you and noted you were wearing patched, faded jeans, solid boots, and a bleach-stained orange sweatshirt with some English writing he couldn’t read. Usually, he didn’t really see what other people wore because he couldn’t give less of a shit, but somehow he found your obvious cleaning clothes… endearing. The orange looked good on you, too. 

Fuck, maybe you didn’t heal him as well as he thought. He had to be hemorrhaging into his brain to be thinking this stupid shit. Or maybe it was a side effect of your quirk? 

He needed to get you alone and get answers. 

“Well… thank you, this was very thoughtf—oh, wow, that is soft,” you murmured as you partially drew a sweatshirt out of the bag. 

Bakugo instantly recognized the forest green and orange color scheme, and apparently so did you, because your face twitched, and you dropped the garment back into the bag and traded it for fuzzy socks with Red Riot’s signature gears stitched into them. 

“These will definitely come in handy, my feet are always cold,” you said with an awkward giggle. Then you cleared your throat to cover up the sound. “Thank you, um, Red Riot.” 

“You can call me Eijiro, or Kirishima, whatever you’re comfortable with,” the redhead said with another easy grin. “We’re going to be seeing a lot of each other, after all. Oh! We also got you a fruit basket, and I think there might be a few other sweets tucked in there.” 

Kirishima nudged Bakugo forward, and your face rippled through a range of emotions, like your brain was taking a second to catch up to everything the pro hero just spewed. First, flustered embarrassment colored your cheeks, then confusion buckled your brow, and your eyes widened before they looked at the fruit basket Bakugo was extending at you. 

“Oh, you can just put it down… um…” you trailed off as you turned to the counter and remembered it was half destroyed. Then your eyes jumped around frantically for some kind of flat surface, but the ruined shop didn’t offer any solutions. 

“Told ya we shouldn’t of brought this shit,” Bakugo grunted, shooting a scowl at Kirishima. 

“Yeahhhhh, we probably could have just delivered it to your room at the agency, my bad,” the redhead laughed. “But don’t worry, we’ll carry it back for you, along with any of your other things.” 

“My… things?” you echoed, sounding out the words like a child, and a frown marred your face. “I-I think I must be misunderstanding you, I’m sorry, I’m American. But did you say my room at the agency? As in… your hero agency?” 

“You’re American?” Kirishima asked with wide red eyes. “I wouldn’t have even guessed! Your accent is almost perfect, I thought you were maybe just from like the countryside or something.” 

“I thought you said we were supposed to be nice to her,” Bakugo snorted at his partner like you weren’t in the room, and he saw you frown at him out of the corner of his eye. 

“Oh, shit, no, that wasn’t what I meant!” Japan’s Number Three Hero immediately began waving his hands in front of his face, his mouth moving twice as fast. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude. I really think your accent sounds nice! It’s very cute!” 

Now, not only did your cheeks flush again, but the red hue traveled down your throat and across your collarbones, peeking out the stretched collar of your orange sweatshirt. 

Bakugo found himself half distracted by the sight, but the other half was wondering why he suddenly felt irritation flare up in his gut. 

“Okay, you don’t have to take her out on a date now,” the blond snapped, shifting his burden of fruit and plastic. 

“I-I think we might have gotten off track,” you stuttered as you clutched the bag of Dynamight and Red Riot merch to your chest. “You said something about your agency.” 

“Yes, right.” Kirishima cleared his throat. “We would have mentioned this in our follow up email after you sent in your insurance info, but—” 

“Oh, no, I’m so sorry!” you cut him off with a grimace, and you actually dipped your head and shoulders into a bow. “I meant to send that yesterday, but my laptop is broken, and my cell service isn’t great—” 

“No, no, it’s fine!” the redhead interrupted this time. “You obviously have a lot on your plate. I just meant that this might seem kind of sudden, but—” 

Fucking hell, this was taking too long. 

“You’re staying at our agency until we can pay for the repairs to your apartment and shop,” Bakugo said bluntly. If he didn’t step in, the two of you were just going to stammer circles around each other all day. “Starting tonight. We have rooms with beds and shit, so pack whatever clothes or crap you need.” 

Your mouth fell open as you gaped at Bakugo. “I… what?” 

“You deaf or something?” The words rocketed from his mouth before he could stop them, before he could even think about what he was saying, and he saw the way the question struck you like a physical blow. You flinched, your cheeks paling, and he saw dawning, guilty horror glint at the back of your eyes. 

He’d been right. You did do something to his ears. 

“Bro, you were just talking about being nice.” Kirishima frowned at Bakugo before he turned back to you. “Ignore him. We’re really sorry about the inconvenience this whole… incident has caused for you, but we’ll take care of everything you need until your shop’s grand reopening, so you don’t have to worry about a thing, okay?” 

You continued to stare at the two heroes in shocked silence, your wide eyes clicking back and forth between the two of them as you clutched the bags to your chest like a lifeline. 

“That is… all so generous,” you finally breathed, your tone rising in pitch like you were growing increasingly flustered. “It’s, um, a lot to take in.” 

“Of course.” Kirishima nodded fervently. “What else can we do to help?” 

“Could you leave?” 

Bakugo blinked in surprise and then had to stifle his snort. 

“Oh, no, I’m sorry!” you quickly followed up when you saw the redhead’s falling expression. “I didn’t mean… I just meant, could I have some time to process this? Um, alone? L-Like Dynamight said, I need to pack a few things, a-and there are some people I need to speak to before, uh… well, is it okay if I tell someone where I’ll be? Like, at your agency?” 

“Yessss?” Kirishima said with a confused frown. “Why wouldn’t that be okay?” 

“O-Oh, I just don’t really know how the whole hero and media thing works here,” you quickly lied, and Bakugo clocked the way you averted your eyes, the way your throat bobbed as you swallowed thickly. “I-I wasn’t going to post on social media or anything, I barely use that stuff anyway, but one of my customers, Mrs. Kojima, would be upset if I disappeared without saying anything.” 

“Aww, that’s sweet.” The redhead grinned before he glanced at the shadowed ruins around him. “What kind of shop is this by the way? I don’t think you mentioned.” 

“A-Alterations,” you said, ducking your face in embarrassment again. “My grandparents were a tailor and seamstress. I inherited this place from them.” 

“I thought you said you were American?” Kirishima asked, but not in an accusatory way. He was just too curious for his own good and didn’t possess much of a filter. 

Bakugo usually didn’t care for small talk, fucking waste of time if you asked him, but he found himself focusing intently on you, awaiting a response. 

“I am.” You nodded. “My parents were both born here, but they moved to the States after they married, and I was born there. After my grandparents passed, my dad was going to sell the shop, but I was looking for something… new, so I decided to move here instead about a year ago.” 

Bakugo pursed his lips at this new information. If you had a healing quirk, why were you patching up clothes in some little shop all the way across the world from your surviving family? Could it be because your quirk was dangerous? 

“Wow, that’s cool,” Kirishima said with an impressed expression that quickly turned sheepish. “Except about your grandparent’s passing. My condolences.” 

“Thank you,” you muttered, a small smile tugging at your lips, but then you quickly shook your head. “I-I’m sorry, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story, I tend to talk when I’m nervous.” 

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Red Riot laughed like he did when he was meeting shy little kids on the street, flashing his sharpened teeth jokingly and winking in an overexaggerated fashion. “I promise, we look scarier than we are.” 

“Speak for yourself, Shitty Hair,” Bakugo scoffed, which made you jump, like you’d forgotten he was there. 

And that rubbed him the wrong way for some reason. 

Kirishima merely smirked before he partially covered his mouth with his hand and lowered his voice into a stage whisper directed at you. “All bark, no bite, I’m telling you.” 

“Stop making me seem lame, you bastard!” the blond growled, but the effect was kind of ruined by the fruit basket crinkling in his hands again. 

This actually seemed to startle a giggle out of you, and the two heroes whipped around, one with a grin and the other a scowl. 

“See, you don’t need to be nervous,” Kirishima said before he slung an arm around Bakugo’s shoulders. “But we’ll get out of your hair for now so you can have some time to pack and everything. Don’t worry about picking up too much, though, we’ll have cleaning crews in here before we start the remodel, and we don’t want you to get hurt in here. If there’s stuff up in your apartment that you don’t want to bring with you to the agency but don’t want thrown out, make a list, and we’ll be sure to keep everything safe.” 

“O-Okay,” you said, still standing there with the hero merch clenched to your chest and a dumbstruck expression on your face. “T-Thank you again, Red--, erm, Kirishima.” 

“Of course!” He grinned. “I have patrol tonight, but we’ll send a car to pick you up—” 

“No,” Bakugo cut in as he locked eyes with you. “I’ll pick you up. What time?” 

The blond could see Kirishima shoot him a look in his peripherals—probably because they both had patrol tonight—but Bakugo ignored his partner, maintaining eye contact with you. 

You, meanwhile, squirmed under the explosive hero’s intense scrutiny, your face paling and flushing in turns. “I… no, you don’t have to do that, I can take the train—” 

“I insist,” he interrupted again, narrowing his eyes so you would realize he wasn’t going to back down. “Like Shitty Hair said, we caused this… inconvenience, so I’ll pick you up. What. Time?” 

You swallowed thickly, your throat audibly clicking. “S-Seven?” 

“I’ll be here at seven sharp,” Bakugo said. “And you better be out front or at least answer your phone this time.” 

You better not run, he didn’t say, but by the look on your face, you understood. 

“Seven sharp.” You nodded, biting your lip as a resigned expression settled over your features. “Got it.” 

“Great. See you then.” 

With that, Bakugo turned on heel and crunched his way out of your store, leaving Kirishima stuttering apologies in his wake. 

But that didn’t matter. 

All that mattered was, tonight, he’d finally get you alone and get to the bottom of your damn quirk.

[ramp-it-up]

Cuddle Buddies

Pairing: Roommate! Rafael Casal x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Minors DNI, RPF, angst, cursing, pining, jealousy, suggestive language, butt slapping, fluff! No smut!  All errors my own. I apologize if you like the smell of patchouli, lol.

A/N: This is an answer to the following ask from @teatro-dira :

Okay so I don't know if this is kinda weird but like an Rafael x reader were they are like really cuddly(like a lot of hugs, cuddling and stuff) friends and roommates and everyone teases them asking them if they're dating. Then Rafael gets a girlfriend which makes y/n lowkey feel betrayed and jealous, but he doesn't realize that. Y/n accidentally ruins their relationship(you chose how). They get into a fight, but it ends in fluff. Hope you understand what I mean:)

Here it goes! I hope you like it!

———-

A series of unfortunate events led you to this situation six months ago.

You were subletting Rafael’s apartment in Santa Monica when production wrapped a month early on his project in Vancouver. He had nowhere to go, and neither did you, so you agreed to share the space.

You vibed, almost as much as he and Daveed did. Folks began to call you the fourth Muskateer, for as much as you, Rafa, Daveed and his girl were always together. 

You all talked, smoked, and created together. You and Rafa especially were always all over each other, keeping each other warm under blankets on the couch, watching movies while you ran your fingers through his hair, in one or another’s bed watching videos, or writing in tandem. 

It was all good, cause Rafa was being a man-whore at the moment with several ladies, and you were just chilling. It was dope. 

Almost.

It would have been all the way dope, except...

Except for the fact that you were in love with Rafa.

You loved sharing the same space with him, because you could smell him when he just got out of the shower, play in his silky hair, and feel his strong arms around you. And when he wore grey sweats…. Damn.  You and your little bullet celebrated every time that happened.

Everyone could tell, except for Rafael.  People ragged on you two so hard, that you vehemently denied it every time, to the point of getting heated.

One night, you side eyed the teaser through a cloud of smoke after catching Rafa’s grimace when they said you two should get together.  Your mood sank at what you perceived was rejection.

“I would NEVER get with Rafa, that’s the homie.  He’s like a brother to me. Ugh. Getting with my brother? No way. We’re just Cuddle Buddies.”

Rafa blinked and then took a toke.

“Exactly, we the homies. Platonic Ride or Dies.  It’ll never happen.”  He passed what he was holding and then stood up. “Cuddle Buddies till the end.”  He sounded disgusted.

“I’m going to go get some food. I’m hungry. What does everyone want?”  After everyone yelled out their orders, you offered to come with.

“Nah, sis.  I’m good.  Gonna clear my head. I’ll be back soon.  Rafa peaced out and you sat back down with the crew.

-------

Ever since that night, Rafa seemed a little distant.  He was always busy, and never had time to sit and kick it with you the last couple of weeks.  You all never seemed to link.

One night, he was home when you came in with groceries.

“Oh shit, I didn’t know that you’d be here!” You put the groceries down on the counter while Rafa was at the stove, cooking up some pasta with marina.

“Mmmmmm. Smells good!” You went and stood very close to him, expecting him to give you a side hug, at least.

He just turned and glanced at you, a smirk lifting one side of his face.

“Will you never learn to keep an umbrella in the car? You always come in soaking wet from the rain.”

Here he was, shaking his head that you didn’t have enough sense to come in out of the rain.  How could this talented genius ever want to be with you?

You just played it off, as usual. “I’m starving. I didn’t think I would make it through cooking, but you’re always clutch, Rafa!” 

Rafa stood there and gaped at you.

“Uhhhhh… I thought you said you were driving down to the Vista to see your mom… I have someone coming over for dinner....”

“No.  She’s decided to go on a cruise to Cabo with her bestie… she just called and told me as she was boarding the ship this afternoon.  The hussy. Tryna be fast with her little friends.”  You laughed.

“So, who’s coming over?  UTK? Wayne? Jimmy?”

You jumped up on the counter and watched as Rafa put some french bread with butter and garlic in the oven.  Smelled like heaven.  Those guys would definitely invite you to stay.

Rafa wiped his hands on the towel that was hanging on the stove. And turned around to face you.

“Her name is Aurora.”

It was like he’d punched you in the gut. He’d NEVER brought one of his heauxes around. You fought the urge to double over, even though you felt nauseous.  When you looked at him, he looked concerned.

“Hey, you okay?”

You jumped down from the counter and quickly nodded your head, laughing weakly.  

“I...uh.. Yeah.  Like I said, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, expecting to be at dinner with my moms by now.”

You grabbed your groceries, putting them up quickly and grabbed an apple, taking it to your room.

“I’m going to get out of your way in a minute, I’ll go over to Carla’s and hang with her tonight. We’ll probably go out and do what we do, you know?”

Rafa still looked worried.

“Are you sure you’re ok? You need more than an apple. Look, stay…”

“NO!”  Your voice was raised and it startled you.  “I mean, I’m not one to be a cock blocker.  I’ll just get my stuff and get ready to go.”

Rafa just watched as you scurried into your room. Why did you feel like crying?  Why did you feel as if you would never breathe properly again?  You got out your phone and called Carla.

20 minutes later, you exited your room dressed for the club with your overnight bag.  There was a strange smell in the room, and it wasn’t pasta.  It was patchouli.  You HATED patchouli.

You didn’t realize you were giving the gas face until Rafa came out of the kitchen followed by a short, but cute woman, with a body like, whoa. 

Of course.

Rafa glared at you and you fixed your face.  That bestie telepathy was on point. Then he looked up and down, as if he were judging your freakum dress.  Well, fuck him.

“Oh, hey!  Y/N, this is Aurora.  Aurora, Y/N.”

Aurora ignored your outstretched hand and went in for a hug. 

“Y/N!  I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like I know you intimately, just like Rafael.”  

You tried to keep your face straight in reaction to her scent, then gave her a sideye. 

Was it the inept way she rolled the ‘R’ in Rafael, or the thinly veiled shot at your relationship? Either way, you felt like slapping the shit out of her. You looked at Rafa, but then just cleared your throat.

“And I’ve heard so much about you as well.  You’re all Rafa talks about.” He shook his head behind her.  “Nice to meet you, but I’m headed out for the night.”

It was then that Aurora saw your bag and brightened up.  

“Oh!  You do look nice. Are you leaving, you sure you don’t want to stay?”  

You could smell insincerity a mile away. Even patchouli couldn’t cover that up. You just smiled at her.  

“No ma’am.  I’ve got places to see and people to do.”  You winked at them as you walked out of the door, holding up your umbrella.  “Stay dry y’all.”

You made it out the door without crying of jack slapping that little bitch or Rafa.  You were winning.  

But why did it feel like you’d lost everything?

-----

You and Rafa successfully avoided one another for days.  He was either over Aurora’s or you were with Carla, your mom, or just stayed in your room.

One time you passed Rafa and Aurora on the couch watching a movie on your way to the kitchen to get something to eat.  Rafa’s head was in her lap.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Rafa’s slightly raised voice say: “Don't’ mess with the swoop, Babe.”

‘Babe.’ He called her Babe. That’s it. It was time for you to go. 

You were cramping Rafa’s style.  You just tiptoed back in your room, making little to no noise so that they could watch the movie in peace. You didn’t see Rafa looking at your door after you went in.

----

A week later, you let Rafa know your move out date.

“Wait. What?”

Rafa’s mouth was open. You repeated yourself.

“Well, I’m going to move in with Carla. She’s going to let me ride her couch until this other place comes open in three weeks. It’s a sweet deal, near the studio….”

Rafa’s mind was racing, you could see the gears turning.

“Well… why don’t you just stay here until then, we got a good thing going.” He looked upset. What was up with him?

“Rafa… I’m just in the way.  You’ve got Aurora…”

“Hold up, wait.  We aren’t even that serious.  I mean, I just stopped seeing Bev and Chrissy. He looked at his watch. Last week.”

You laughed at Rafa’s fuckboi ways.  “Well, what about me? I might want to date someone and bring them over…”

Rafa’s face changed.

“Bring someone over here…”

But it didn’t sound like an invitation, it sounded like a threat.  

It was your turn to stare at Rafa.  “What the hell…?”

He straightened up.  “I mean, any of your guests are welcome here.”

You sighed and shook your head. 

“See what I mean? Things are getting tense, I want us to stay friends, not be tight with each other all the time.”

Rafa grinned.  “You said ‘tight.’”  He dodged a couch pillow thrown at his head.

“What are you, a 12 year old?”  You were rolling.  He really was one of your best friends.  But you needed space to get over yourself.  And him.

“Okay.  You grown.  But just know that you don’t have to go.  And know that I will miss the hell out of you.”  

Rafa came over to hug you, and he held you longer than normal, and then kissed the top of your head.  You looked up at him, still in his arms and it was like…

You cleared your throat.  “Well, I guess I better go start to pack.”

Rafa stepped back.  “Ok.”

Both of you hurried to your perspective rooms.

-----

One night, a couple of days later, Rafael came into your room without knocking.

“What did you say to Aurora?”

You were laying on your stomach on your phone, in just your t-shirt an panties.  You rolled over and looked at him. 

“What are you talking about?”

Rafa wasn’t yelling, but he was keyed up.

“What did you tell her the last time you talked?”

You put your head down to think, then brought it back up. 

“I just said that I was going to miss playing in your hair when we watched movies, that I knew it was your favorite thing.”

Rafa nodded, then shook his head.  

“Y/N, you’re the only one I let touch my hair.  Aurora has barely been allowed near it.”

“That’s…. New.”  You were perplexed.

“No it isn’t. Everyone knows I don’t like people messing with my hair.  Aurora accused me of having feelings for you.”

You were sitting up now, crossing your arms and standing before Rafa.

“That’s ridiculous.”

Rafa looked like he was about to explode. He threw his hands up in the air and walked out of your room.

“OF COURSE IT IS! RIDICULOUS!”  He was really agitated.

“Yeah, I know all too well that you think it's ridiculous for me to want to be with you.  I don’t know what makes you think I’m not good enough for you?”

“Good enough for ME?  You’re the one running around with all the model/actress types, you’re the one who thinks I’m beneath you.  You said so that one night when you said we were ‘Platonic Ride or Dies.’”

“Here we go! Total distortion! Did you hear what you said before I said that?  You said I was like your brother.  Your brother.  You think it’s that disgusting to be with me.”

“I just said that because you made a face when what’s her face said we should be together.”

“I made that face because I was imagining fucking your brains out.  It was probably my cum face.”

You stopped and stared at him, mouth hinged open.

“The fuck?”  You burst out laughing.  “You are mad outta pocket Rafa.” Rafa was rolling too.  “But you ain’t gotta lie.”

Rafa stopped laughing.  

“Why do you think I’m lying?”

He was moving closer to you. This felt… dangerous. He looked up and down your body, and it was the first time you felt uncomfortable being comfortable around Rafa.

“Because you told me that you wanted to just be Cuddle Buddies a month after you came back from Canada. You drew a line in the sand.”

Rafa shook his head at you and smiled, green-blue eyes twinkling. 

“I knew you were too zooted.  I shouldn’t have tried to shoot my shot.”

“Run that back for me?”  You couldn’t believe what he was saying right now.

“What I said was..I wanted to be Cuddie buddies. Cuddie is… you know…”  

He pointed to your crotch.

You looked down, and then up at him again. “I can’t with you Rafa….” 

Rafa tilted his head in that sexy way at you. 

“Can you really not?” 

You were stunned.  Rafa continued.

“But I’m serious. When you came back with ‘Cuddle Buddies,’ I thought you were blowing me off and just wanted to be friends. So, I just settled into the friend zone.”

“Do you mean you’re attracted to me? Rafa, that’s funny as hell. You want me for my body?”

Rafa raised his eyebrows at you. “Hell yeah. C’mon girl. You know you’re fine.” 

Your cheeks heated up. You stared at him for what must have been a solid minute.  The possibilities of this alternate reality where Rafa liked you like you liked him opened up.

“But, Rafa... I don’t wanna be just cuddie buddies.”

“Oh. Ok, Cool….” Rafa cleared his throat and looked everywhere but at you.

“I want your heart.” 

Rafa paused when he heard that and his face fell as he moved toward you.  He took your arms in his hands.

“Y/N I'm sorry, I can't give you my heart.”

It was your turn to pick up your face.

“’Cause you already have it.” 

His mischievous grin made your stomach flip.  But you were mad.

“Fuck you, Rafa.” You were laughing with happiness, despite him playing too much.

“Oh, you don’t have to tell me twice.” Rafa swooped down and threw you over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting six months for that invitation.”  

You were trying to kick and scream. 

Raa swatted you on the ass, then smoothed his hand over the cheek that stung.

“The more you struggle, the more you’ll be begging me to stop in a few.”

You struggled some more, but he made it to your bedroom and deposited you on the bed.  He glared down at you, all sexy green-eyed god.

“Try me, Y/N.”

You reached for the drawstring on his sweats.

“If you insist, Rafael.”

-----

Taglist:

@braidedchallah @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @jbrizzywrites @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @anh1020 @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonybitch @curlyhairclub

[boxesandrings]

For the fic request

Shane x F! farmer pls they want to tell jas and Marie about them dating. and their going to to do it at a dinner at marnies ranch.

Hi! I finally wrote this piece and had a lot of fun with it! It took me a while because I had a lot of ideas about how this could go, and wanted it to be fun! I hope you enjoy!

Title: The Set Up

Rating: G

Summary: Shane and the Farmer have been seeing each other for a few months, and want to tell Shane's family over dinner. Marnie, who's unaware of what's been going on, has a different plan for the couple.

Characters: Shane, F!Farmer, Jas, Marnie

Word Count: 3141

Story under the cut, and also on my AO3!

Shane had just finished buttoning up his shirt when he heard Jas yell and slam the door. He ran out of his bedroom, head swiveling as he searched for her, afraid she had fallen or gotten hurt somehow. He listened for her sobs, but sighed a breath of relief when he heard her excitedly talking to someone outside of the ranch. He checked his watch— 4:45. Marnie must be home. He headed towards the door, determined to rescue his aunt from the excited 7-year-old, who had been just a little too excited about dinner with the Farmer tonight.

Jas and Marnie liked the Farmer, quite a bit, which Shane was incredibly grateful for. He and the Farmer had also gotten incredibly close over the past year and a half, something that Marnie had wholeheartedly approved of, as the Farmer had somehow pulled Shane out of his depression, sobered him up and set him on the right path again.

What Marnie hadn’t realized was that two months ago, Shane and the Farmer had spent the day in Zuzu city exploring, watching the Tunnelers and taking tours, exchanging quiet confessions and kissing in every darkened alleyway they passed. They had been dating since but hadn’t told anyone yet, afraid of the newness of the relationship. The pair had finally decided to tell Marnie and Jas about them, and when Marnie had invited the Farmer over for dinner last week, they decided that it was the perfect time.

Shane got to the door and opened it, taking a step out into the brisk fall air. He was surprised to find that instead of Marnie, Jas was excitedly trying to jump on the Farmer, rapidly asking questions and attempting to pull things out of the brown paper bag the Farmer had brought with her. The Farmer was laughing, spinning in circles so that Jas couldn’t reach inside of the bag, carefully holding a wrapped package and some kind of bottle under her arm, answering the few questions that she could.

“Jas, get off of her.” The Farmer looked up, noticing Shane for the first time. She smiled, and Shane noticed her cheeks grow pink as she quickly scanned his body and felt his own grow warm.

“I like that, your shirt. You look nice today.” The Farmer readjusted the items she held, shrugging her arm so that the bag made its way back to her shoulder, her hands holding the package tighter. Shane bit his lip— she was wearing some kind of black, sleeveless dress, made seasonally appropriate by a dark, rich orange turtleneck underneath. She looked beautiful.

“You’re early,” is what he said instead, but he could tell by the Farmer’s curling lips and mischievous look that she might have guessed what he had truly been thinking.

“Marnie told me 5?” Shane shook his head.

“Oh, I thought-- Maybe I misheard.” Shane motioned to Jas. “Come on, let’s let her in the door.”

Jas groaned but walked over to Shane, reaching up to take his hand as he led her back into the house. The Farmer followed behind, setting everything as carefully down on the kitchen table as she could. She began to unwrap the package she had been carrying, taking Jas’ attention once again.

“What are you carrying? What did you bring?” Jas was gripping the edge of the table, jumping up and down hoping for a better view. The Farmer smiled as she worked.

“Your Aunt asked me to bring a pumpkin pie, and I figured I’d bring some apple cider too!” Jas ‘ooh’d’ as the pie was finally revealed, but her attention quickly turned to the bag as she grabbed at its edge.

“And in here?” The Farmer laughed and took the bag away, lifting it to her own face and taking a look inside.

“Well, it’s mostly just a bunch of stuff like vegetables that I thought you guys might like, but I think I did have something for you…” The Farmer reached into the bag and pretended to dig around, tongue sticking out as she looked up at the ceiling. Jas was beside herself with excitement, but Shane rolled his eyes, trying to hide his smile.

She was so sweet with Jas. He had never said anything to the Farmer about it, even before they were dating, but he could tell the Farmer understood that Jas was always going to be the most important thing to him. Jas’ parents were dead and Shane was incredibly protective of her, helping raise and take care of the girl with his aunt.

The Farmer finally pulled out a deep purple flower and Jas gasped, carefully accepting it as she stared at the petals. The Farmer crouched down to Jas’ level, watching the girl’s face.

“Do you like it? Shane told me they were your favorite.” Jas nodded, turning the flower in her hand.

“Yes! Thank you!” She gave the Farmer a hug, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck. She pulled away, smiling, then turned around to face Shane. “Look!”

“I see! How cool!” He took a step forward and picked Jas up, resting her on his hip. She was getting big, he wouldn’t be able to do this for much longer. He looked at her face, where something blue and sticky was on it. “Dude, what’s all over you?” He tried to rub a thumb against her face, but the gunk didn’t budge.

“We made slime at school today! It’s in my room, do you wanna see?” He set Jas down.

“Later tonight, sure! But I think we’re going to eat really soon, why don’t you put your flower in your room and clean up?” Jas nodded and sped off, closing the door to her bedroom behind her.

Shane looked at the Farmer, who had stood up and was now leaning against the table. She smiled when their eyes met.

“Hi.” Her voice was quiet, and Shane smiled now and walked closer to her, their bodies only inches apart.

“Hi.” She wrapped her arms up around his shoulders, their bodies now pressed together. He had his arms wrapped around her back. “Did you bring anything for me?” The Farmer pressed her lips together, an over exaggerated thinking look on her face.

“Hmmm… nope?” She looked back up at him, their faces getting closer. Shane heard the faucet in Jas’ bathroom turn on.

“Oh, but I had something for you.” His forehead pressed against hers.

“Yeah? What is it?” Shane kissed the Famer, their lips finally meeting as he held her. He could kiss her forever, but pulled away after a few seconds. They hadn’t told his family yet. “You look nice today.”

The Farmer giggled, pressing her face into Shane’s shoulder. He heard a muffled ‘thanks’ from his shoulder, and had been preparing something else, some other compliment when he heard the oven timer go off. He took a sudden step back and made his way toward the oven, the Farmer swaying forward and letting out a small ‘ah!’ as he did.

“Sorry! Chicken’s done. I think.” He grabbed a pair of oven mitts and put them on, reaching for the oven door. He heard the Farmer grab something behind him and make her way toward the fridge, opening the door.

“I’m gonna put the pie and the whipped cream I made in here.” Shane pulled the chicken out. Did it look right? He hoped he followed the recipe right. Where was the meat thermometer, he better check.

“Wait, the pie in the fridge? Aren’t they supposed to be warm?” He opened a drawer, searching for the utensil.

“Maybe? My family always put the pumpkin ones in the fridge at least. I like them cold.” Shane found the thermometer and stuck it in the chicken and sucked in through his teeth.

“Geeze, I don’t know if we’re gonna work.” He looked over at the Farmer and smiled, who in turn stuck her tongue out through her teeth and scrunched her nose. He turned his attention back to the bird— the temperature was good.

The Farmer made her way to a cabinet, searching for utensils to lay out. “That smells really good.” Shane smiled.

“Thanks, I just showered.” He heard her snort behind him, and the rattling of the forks in her hands.

“Hardy-har-har. I meant the chicken.” Shane nodded, taking off his oven mitts and heading toward the refrigerator, where Marnie had put the salad she made earlier.

“Thanks. I’ve never made it before so I hope it’s alright?” He put the salad in the middle of the table, then took half the utensils from his girlfriend and started on the other side of the table. “It’s Marnie’s recipe, so if it’s gross we can just blame her.” The two were now standing on the same side of the large circular table, and when they bumped into each other made eye contact and smiled.

“My ears are burning, someone must be talking about me!” Marnie sang as she walked into the kitchen, setting her purse down on the counter. Her eyes were flicking back and forth between the couple, a large smile on her face. Shane scooched away from the Farmer awkwardly, but the Farmer didn’t flinch, instead walking toward Marnie with her arms outstretched.

“Marnie! Thank you for inviting me over today. It’s been so busy this season, so it’s nice to take a break and actually eat a proper meal.” She gave Marnie a hug, but wasn’t prepared for the force of Marnie’s hug back.

“Of course! You’re always welcome here.” Marnie finally let the Farmer go, scanning over the other woman’s outfit. Marnie turned to Shane, obviously about to say something, but paused as she took Shane in with an approving look in her eye.

“Well, that’s quite a nice shirt.” She nodded at him, but Shane scrunched his face.

“It’s a shirt! I can wear nice shirts sometimes. Why is everyone bringing up the shirt?” He moved toward the hallway door. “I’m going to get Jas, she was washing some… weird… goo off of herself.”

Shane made his way to Jas’ room, the chattering of the women behind him still audible. Marnie’s loud and warm laughter, the Farmer’s sweet giggles. He knocked on Jas’ door and waited for her response, opening when he heard her tiny voice.

Jas was at her little desk, coloring a picture when Shane walked in. He saw the Farmer’s flower in a large cup by Jas’ bed, water practically up to the bloom. He’d have to pour some out later, but admired Jas’ efforts.

“Dinner’s ready, kiddo.” Jas looked up at him, smiling.

“Do you like it? I’m drawing the flower.” Shane nodded, admiring the purple and blue image on the table.

“It’s very pretty.” Jas smiled, and set her crayons down. “Now let’s go eat!” Jas didn’t move.

“But Aunt Marnie told me to give the adults some space tonight.” Shane cocked his head.

“What?”

“Yeah, she said before she got home to let you talk with your friend for a bit.” She smiled at Shane, so proud that she had followed her Aunt’s instructions so perfectly. Shane felt even more confused.

“Well,” he said, shaking the feeling off, “now I’m saying to come eat dinner with us. Let’s go.” Jas hopped up, running out of the room.

In the hallway, Shane and Jas ran into the Farmer on her tiptoes, reaching up into a closet. Shane stopped, but nudged Jas ahead to the kitchen.

“Do you need any help?” The Farmer stepped back, nodding.

“Your Aunt asked that I get some tablecloth out, that she was too short to grab it, but I don’t think I’m doing much better.” Shane scratched his head. Since when did they use a tablecloth? He peered up into the closet, spying the fabric far overhead.

“I don’t think either of us would be able to get that without a stepstool. There’s one in here somewhere, I think.” Shane dropped to his knees, sorting through the boxes below until he found what he was looking for. He pulled it out and pulled the bars apart.

“Oh, thanks!” The Farmer climbed up both steps, reaching far up into the closet overhead. The tablecloth was still a little high up— who even put it there?-- and the Farmer was still reaching far above, her heels lifted, wobbling slightly. Shane steadied her with a protective hand on her back, ready to hold her if she started to fall. The Farmer stretched as far as she could, finally pinching the fabric between her fingers.

“Got it!” She pulled down the tablecloth with a swift motion, almost falling backwards as she did. Shane steadied her, concerned as he held his girlfriend.

“You good?” The Farmer nodded.

“Yeah.” She looked down on Shane, smiling.

“Oh good! The tablecloth is out.” The couple turned to face Marnie, who was leaning against the archway leading into the kitchen, her lips pressed tightly in a way suggesting she was trying to hide a smile. Shane moved his hands back to his side, realizing that he still had them around the Farmer. “Well, shall we eat?” Marnie turned around and quickly headed into the kitchen. The Farmer and Shane looked at each other, and followed behind.

Once the tablecloth had been laid out and the placemats reset, the group sat down to enjoy their dinner, chatting amicably about nothing at all; the season was going well, the animals were producing at a nice rate, Jas had gotten an A on a test. A few times, Marnie would ask a question that would give the Farmer pause, asking about past relationships, what she thought of certain people in town, and Shane would throw his aunt a look, mentally pleading for her to change the topic. Or suddenly, she would grow very complimentary of Shane, talking about past achievements or how he was with Jas, and Shane could tell the Farmer was holding in laughter.

“You know,” Marnie finally said, “We’re really so glad that you came into our lives. Shane’s been doing so much better since the two of you met. You’re really such a positive influence on him.” The Farmer bit her lip, her jaw tense trying to hold back a grin. Shane’s face flushed red.

“Oh, thank you.” She looked briefly at Shane, then back to Marnie.

“Marnie, I— yes. But I don’t think we really have to—” Marnie cut Shane off, kicking her nephew under the table.

“I mean, the two of you make such wonderful friends, I’m sure he agrees. Right Shane?” Shane didn’t know if he could blush any harder, his cheeks were burning. The Farmer’s eyes were wild, practically eating her lips to hide her smile.

“Yeah, we’re real good friends.” Shane cleared his throat.

“Actually, we were, uh, gonna—” Marnie cut him off again.

“I really think you two should hang out more, even. I mean, you get along so well, and who knows where things could go.”

“Marnie!” Shane jumped in his chair and grit his teeth. “What are you doing?” The Farmer covered her mouth with her hand, shaking with laughter. Much like the rest of his family, it seemed, she loved to see him worked up. Jas, holding her cup with both hands, was taking a long sip, her eyes darting between the adults at the table. Marnie turned to Shane.

“What? You were obviously never going to make a move, I thought I’d help!” the woman stage-whispered, her voice loud enough that everyone at the table could hear her. The Farmer lost it now, tears streaking down her face as she laughed.

“Marnie!” The Farmer's head was on the table as she tried to contain her laughter, her hair well into the food, but she hadn’t noticed. Even Jas now was giggling behind her cup at the spectacle unfolding before her.

“I see the way you look at her! Nothing is ever going to happen if you keep mooning at her from a distance!”

It all made sense now. The two different dinner times. Jas’ weird statements. Marnie waiting in the hallways. The table cloth. His aunt had been trying to set them up, unaware that they had already done it themselves. The Farmer lifted her head, shaking still.

“Shane, do you have a crush on me?” He could barely make out the words between her giggles.

“I— Marnie!” He turned back toward his aunt. “I— you don’t need to set dates up for me! I’m a fully grown adult!” Marnie shrugged.

“It really looked like you needed the help.” The Farmer’s head hit the table again, causing Jas to spill her apple cider as she laughed.

“I don’t need the help! We were going to talk about this tonight!” Marnie tilted her head. Shane cleared his throat, trying to settle down. “We’re already dating. We were just waiting for the right time to bring it up.” Jas set her cup down, a large smile on her face. Marnie clasped her hands together over her chest.

“Oh! Shane, why didn’t— is this true?” Marnie turned toward the Farmer, who lifted her head and nodded, still crying. At least she was having fun.

“Yeah, it’s— it’s true,” the Farmer said through giggles, and Jas immediately began to fire off questions at the Farmer. Marnie clapped again.

“Oh! Shane, I’m so happy. You two really would— do— make a good couple, I was so hoping this would happen.” Shane rested his head in his hands, massaging his temple.

“It was just so new that we didn’t want to tell anyone, in case...” Marnie laughed.

“There’s no way it’d go bad.” She looked toward the Farmer, who was still shaking but trying to answer Jas’ questions. Marnie herself began to laugh, the giggles almost uncontrollable. “Looks like you didn’t need any help after all.”

Shane looked up, thoroughly prepared to be annoyed with his aunt, but as he looked at the women at the table— Marnie laughing in her chair, Jas asking rapid fire questions as his girlfriend did her best to answer them while she giggled— and realized that maybe this was just okay. His family already loved his girlfriend (maybe more than him, even) and were rooting for the relationship, even when they didn’t know about it.

The Farmer caught Shane’s look and winked before turning her focus back to Jas, and Shane smiled. While Marnie had somehow gone about things in the worst way possible, the night had gone well. And now, Shane could do what he had wanted to do since the Farmer had caught him in the barn working with the chickens, all those months ago— call her his girlfriend, to make it known how he felt about her, how she felt about him. The night had definitely gone well.

[nothingtoseehd]

eah characters as cavetown songs

this was inspired by @/applewhiteapologist's eah characters as taylor swift songs, sooooooo yeah

some characters might not be here because: 1. it's hard to find songs for them (as of right now) 2. i forgot them/i'll do them if i have more time

apple white - devil town v2/green

-i chose devil town v2 because it seemed the most, uh, apple out of all the devil town versions? devil town v1 seems edgy-ish, and devil town v3 seems lower and calmer, i think???? maybe i just chose this because it has those light, floaty chords, i'm not sure, i'm not smart or anything -also i honestly felt like this was hard -i chose devil town because it could represent the future she pictured in her mind when raven didn't sign the book -i don't really know what to explain green, but like, ashlynn and apple in true hearts day??? that's the best way i could explain this song -lyric analysis time: --"i still get a little scared of something new, but I feel a little safer when i'm with you, falling doesn't feel so bad, when I know you've fallen this way too" ---apple is "a little scared of something new" because she's in for an unpredictable future without the storybook of legends ---for the falling part, it's like she's not so sad about being led astray when she's with her friends maybeeeeeee -lyrics for green because i can't explain it but it's just THERE: --"you looked so good in green i hope you’re well and you look so good with him and i’m proud of you still take care of my shirt warm and red i hope you think of me still as your friend i hope you love yourself your body and heart i hope you feel happy that’s all i want that's all i want"

raven queen - devil town v1 (dang it there's no purple text so have plain text)

-i just chose devil town v1 because i think it would work well with her guitar, i actually don't know how guitar works but i'm pretending to know how it works, don't tell anyone i don't know how they work -i think this song could represent her home life and whatnot because she's living with the evil queen -it's lyric analysis time!!: --"you said something dumb again, she's mad, at least that's what they say" (i just used orange so the lyrics wouldn't blend in as much) ---the something dumb thing could be like a 'nice deed' the evil queen doesn't like, and she's mad because of that --"we're all dead in devil town, that's fine, cause nothing's gonna scare us now" ---she's 'dead' after all the nagging and 'be eviL EMBRACE YOUR INNER EVIL' shit and it's now the normal, and it's not going to scare her since it's basically her life now -also slowed devil town can fit her too

madeline hatter - hug all ur friends/talk to me

-she's just so friendly?????? and supportive?????? and oh gosh i need a hug???????? -seriously though, they suit her because she feels so much like a huggy, supportive person and she's friends with everyone sooooooooooooo, hugs for everyone!! except you crystal!! and headmaster grimm!! not forgiving for the time you almost banished maddie!! -the lyrics because i can't explain these songs, it's just that maddie vibe, you know?: --"life’s too short to worry about things that we got wrong, so hug all your friends and let them know, you’re not letting go, i’m not letting go" (hug all ur friends) --"you don't have to be a prodigy to be unique you don't have to know what to say or what to think you don't have to be anybody you can never be that's alright, let it out, talk to me" (talk to me)

briar beauty - pigeon

-i had a very hard time with her but i think this kinda fits -it generates a sleepy vibe? (even though i didn't get this from the sleepyhead album *cough cough*) -okay, so the reason why i chose this for her is because of the chorus, which could kind of tie in with her destiny, with the 100 year coma -have the chorus for reference: --"didn’t give me time to say goodbye in the way that i wanted to, so honey, close your eyes and stay like you’re supposed to do, don’t know how i’m gonna live without, but i’ll stay strong for you"

ca cupid - sweet tooth/for you

-this is already self-explanatory if you listened to the song(s), buT IF YOU HAVEN'T YET, basically it's a song about an unhealthy crush and love and stuff -and you know who she has an unhealthy crush on???? that's right, it's blondie!! /hj (but seriously, in canon it's dexter but uH, i refuse to believe that, they're better off as friends) -lyric examples because like maddie, i can't really explain it but i know the vibe is THERE: --"a sweet tooth for you, i'm wide awake, the sugar went straight to my brain, feel like a kid, i double tap, my chest with my fist, i like you, say it back, say it back"

cerise hood - snail

-snail iS SUCH A GREAT SONG OMG -snail kinda represents her childhood and 'not wanting to be born like this' because of her parents technically breaking destiny (stupid storybook of legends) -lyrics from the song because i kinda don't really need to explain this song more: --"i was just born like this, wish that i could change it" --"i'm hanging out with the foxes and the hounds, and when i fit in i'll break back out"

daring charming - boys will be bugs/lemons (technically cavetown is just a feature but he's still there so yeah)

-it's just about the vibes -and also about the fact that the person in the songs have to uphold some sort of standard (the songs' standards were about masculinity) and i thought it could fit daring because he also has to uphold a standard (being the perfect charming prince) -also in lemons, daring's part is the one where cavetown sings it (if that wasn't obvious) -also ANOTHER LEMONS SIDE NOTE, i'd imagine rosabella singing brye's part, just because -lyrics time: --"don't mess with me, i'm a big boy now and i'm very scary i punch my walls, stay out at night, and i do karate don't message me 'cause i won't reply, i wanna make you cry ain't that how it's supposed to be? though it isn’t me boys will be bugs, right?" (boys will be bugs) --"so i'm gonna take it out on you too proud to show i'm hurting push it on you 'til you're burning" (lemons)

darling charming - 888/trying

-888 is a fun song, very groovy, has peppa pig plasters, 10/10 -main reason i chose 888, it kinda feels gay when you put it under a certain light?????????? -and snail could also fit with darling but i don't want to rob cerise -i was very stuck for a second song for darling because i felt obligated to give the charming siblings two songs because they're that top tier, but i think trying could be a good fit to some extent -could be like 'not great relationship with parents, struggle to fit with their standards ever since she found out she wanted to be a hero or something' -i still do think snail is a better fit for darling but i really really don't want to rob cerise because cerise is amazing -some lyrics: --"i'm workin' things out clouds lookin' strange papercut fingers dancing on the strings if i could see you right now i'd dance just for you when the nightlight goes out" (888) --"please let me know if you change your mind cause inside i'm falling And I need you to pull me out of this decline i realize how hard on you this must seem But trust me when i say it's far, far worse for me" (trying)

dexter charming - telescope/home

-telescope just feels like his vibe???? also because it kinda also have hopeless romantic-ness???? -also i headcanon him to be an astronomy nerd???? so that's fun???? that's my reasoning i guess???? (also, side-note i have just listened to astronomy by conan gray and it fits dexter) -ALSO HOME IS HERE BECAUSE DEXTER IS TRANS YOU CAN'T CHANGE MY MIND -also because it's also his vibe??????? -what time is it????? *clap clap* it's lyrics time!!: --"through the lens, it's dark, single-digit on the clock singing, "yessiree, i sure like-a you a lot" all i need is to get her she'll be happy if you let her" (telescope) --"turn off your porcelain face i can't really think right now and this place has too many colors, enough to drive all of us insane are you dead? sometimes i think i'm dead cause i can feel ghosts and ghouls wrapping my head but i don't wanna fall asleep just yet" (home)

okay the process of this post was just me staring at the lyrics and listening to cavetown a lot, sometimes during online classes but shhhh don't tell anyone (and finding more great songs)

is this post going to flop?? very very likely. do i care? eh, not sure, this was just me trying to put on my big brain hat.

also i realized while reading this post, that i never actually analyzed the majority of the songs' lyrics in this post?? so i'm very sorry

[archerdaryl]

London in Your Eyes.

After pulling your name for Secret Santa, Daryl comes and finds you at the Christmas fair. Inspired by Last December by Nina Nesbitt.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Tags: cute christmas vibes, sfw, a lil sad a lil fluffy a lil slow burn?? Word Count: around 3k Notes: This is my very first fanfiction I’ve written in literal years -- I’d love to hear what you guys think as I’m a little nervous but I hope you enjoy it!!

Against the soft blankets of snow that had long settled since the beginning of December, flashes of red and green could be seen wherever you looked from the guard tower. Amongst them were shadows you recognised, the figures of the people weaving themselves in and out of various stalls that had been set up for the Christmas fair.

You wanted to object to it the first time The King brought it up, especially after the events that occurred at the original. It seemed futile, you weren’t sure you could take another massacre, and it was too God damn cold to be lingering outside. And yet, you folded.

You couldn’t argue with hope. And if Ezekial was good at anything, it was inspiring just that.

Snowflakes had begun to dance in the evening air once more as you diverted your attention back towards the forest that surrounded the walls. You could hear Luke sing what sounded like a song you used to know but couldn’t quite make out as he made his way to his stall where he had wooden instruments up for trade. Down the same lane were various baked goods and crafts made by different members of the community. The kids even had their own art stall, endearingly decorated with looped paper covered in paint and cotton wool shaped into snowmen.

Ezekiel had asked if you wanted to contribute anything. You declined, not because you didn’t want to help but because playing pretend had never been something you were good at -- even as a kid yourself. And especially at Christmas time.

Of course, you played it off a lot more casually than that. You weren’t one to divulge the details of traumas that no longer mattered in the grand scheme of things. After making fun of your lack of artistic talent you insisted on keeping watch for the majority of the evening so that everyone else could enjoy what the fair had to offer. You knew where you stood in that tower. You couldn’t feel the tip of your nose and you had to keep bouncing your knees to maintain circulation, but you felt secure.

You brought your gloved hands up to your mouth and huffed, allowing the warmth to wash over your fingers. You had been up there for several hours now and the most exciting thing to happened was a walker in a hard hat causing a scene by clanging its head against the metal walls. Someone else manning the perimeter had dealt with it, taking what little entertainment you could have had away from you, but at least no one had to worry about an oncoming herd.

“Hey.”

You turned swiftly towards a voice drenched in a Southern drawl, eyebrows raised in surprise knitting themselves together.

“You need to stop doing that.”

“Doin’ wha’?”

“Sneaking up on me.”

Daryl Dixon was one of few people who got the jump on you and it was equal parts annoying and endearing. You stood upright from the post you had been leaning on and took a couple of steps towards him, eyes adjusting to his height as you did so.

“Didn’ mean to.” He confessed, “Thought you might be bored.”

“Maybe a little.” You sighed, “I’m mostly just cold.”

He watched you carefully, one hand fiddling with something in his jacket pocket while the other swung at his side holding a large flask. Your cheeks and nose were pink and he found himself indebted to the harsh winds that were to blame.

“Is that-”

“Mulled wine.” He interrupted, “Whatever tha’ is.”

The pair of you had been dancing around something unspoken for the past year, aware but unwilling to cross a line that could ruin the comfort you found in each other. That and you had both seen what happened to people who got attached to others. It was uncharted territory neither of you had ventured into with anyone for a long long time, and though he often daydreamed of you like a teenager and you were constantly worrying about him, the risk seemed too much.

“You’ve never had mulled wine?” You asked curiously, taking the flask he handed to you and shivering slightly as you wrapped your palms around it, “It’s really good actually. And hot.”

The question may as well have been rhetorical. The pair of you hadn’t shared a great deal about your lives before the dead took over, but he had told you enough that you knew Daryl was raised on beer and moonshine. You cared for neither, admittedly. Gin had always been your vice.

“Besides, I thought you liked to drink alone Dixon.”

He exhaled in amusement but didn’t offer a retort. Instead he stepped towards the cabinet at the back of the watch tower and retrieved a large blanket. Your mouth practically dropped to the floor and he fought a smile from creeping onto his lips.

You hadn’t even thought to check. Your cheeks grew even pinker.

“C’mon. Ain’t’ nothin’ happenin’ in the next ten minutes.”

With furrowed brows you looked back out onto the forest, studying its movement and mystery. Chances are, he was right. Nothing had happened so far and nothing likely would, but that didn’t stop you from worrying.

“Don’ make me take back tha’ wine.”

“No! Don’t you dare.” You whipped your head back towards him and narrowed your eyes. ��It’s warm.”

“So’s this blanket. Come on.”

You made a point of rolling your eyes as you followed Daryl out onto the deck. Before you could complain about the cold (which honestly wasn’t that much worse than inside the tower) Daryl had shook out the blanket and wrapped it around your shoulders. You mumbled a thank you as he lowered himself to the ground and allowed his legs to swing free over the edge of the deck. You followed suit, the flask of hot mulled wine still between your hands acting like your own personal furnace.

It was darker now and hundreds of lights had been switched on so that people could still find their way around the fair. Even you couldn’t deny the wonder and whimsy of it all. Kids were throwing snowballs, families were laughing and making memories that were worth something. There was makeshift tinsel and decorations all over the place and the rich scent of pig and apple sauce hung in the air. In the sweet silence you shared with the archer, there was a moment you forgot where you were. The world you now lived in was an afterthought, and the Christmas fair was an almost perfect picture of somewhere you yearned to be.  

Daryl noticed the unmistakable twinkle of mourning in your eyes before you could even try to force a smile. He reached for the flask and took it from you, unscrewing its lid and pouring you a cup of mulled wine. He took a swig straight from the bottle and though he furrowed his brows and smelled the contents immediately afterwards, he didn’t complain.

“Ain’t ever seen nothin’ like this.” He offered.

You took a large sip and closed your eyes, savouring every note that swam across your tongue.

“I have. A long time ago.”

“Yeah?”

Your eyes flit open and you looked right at him. In what little light was left you could see his lips were already slightly stained red. You didn’t doubt your own were the same. He watched your mouth as you took another sip.

“My family was close. Always saved up their holidays so we could get a long Christmas together.” You found yourself lowering your gaze as you spoke, soon returning it to the hustle and bustle before you,  “Spent a couple years in London. They had markets just like these. Winter Wonderland I think they called it. Never thought I’d see anything like it again.”

It was abundantly clear from the very beginning that the pair of you had led very different lives before the world went to waste. He liked talking about his past even less than you did and for very different reasons too. You never pushed like some of the other’s did. In the end that was likely what pushed you both together.

“It’s funny how shit like that sneaks up on you.” You continued, “Every time I think I’ve moved on or let something go it just… I don’t know. None of this should even matter anymore.”

“You got a past worth rememberin’.” You felt a large hand tug at the blanket hanging around you, pulling it to make sure it didn’t fall, “Ain’t no shame in that.”

In truth, Daryl enjoyed listening to you reminisce. It was a rare gift you offered him, one that he would have found annoying from anyone else considering the stark differences in your upbringing. But you spoke about your past like you were telling a story, keeping that little bit of distance so it didn’t wash over you all at once. Whether you knew it or not, you handed him another puzzle piece every time you let him in. He could sit there and listen to you for hours. He wanted to.

A calloused hand found its way into his jacket once again, fiddling with a small object wrapped in aluminium foil. Now didn’t seem appropriate. They still had time.

“Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah.” His cheeks said otherwise, “Wines doing the trick.”

You pulled your legs up and shimmied a little closer to him to him anyways before forcing your arm through his. He didn’t object, not even when you leaned on him a little.

“What other shit did they have in London?” He pushed.

“Mulled cider. That’s probably more up your street” You took your last sip before nudging him to top the cup up, “I used to love these little pancake balls covered in Nutella, strawberries, and icing sugar. Wasn’t Winter Wonderland unless I was covered in chocolate by the end of it.”

Daryl slowly lowered the side of his head down onto yours. It didn’t feel like too much, like you’d suddenly catch yourself and make excuses to go back on watch. Instead, you kept talking, and Daryl kept fiddling with the gift in his pocket.

“I remember it being loud. Music and people everywhere. And it was cold, but never as cold as this. Didn’t really snow there, which I always thought was weird.”

“If you wan’ loud I heard Luke and Jerry were gon’ go carollin’ later.”

A chuckle escaped you as you took another gulp of wine, “You know what, I think I’ll stay up here.”

Comfortable silence took over as you both watched the fair. It had barely quietened down, even though a lot of people had begun their ride back to Hilltop or Alexandria. It was the first time in a long time that there wasn’t a human threat to worry about, so why wouldn’t people make the most of a time like this? You only wished you could let go like others could.

“Oh, shit.” You sat up suddenly, “I forgot about that Secret Santa thing Jerry made us do.”

“Who’s name d’ya pull?”

“It’s supposed to be Secret Santa.” You paused and sighed, “I pulled Jesus. Is this irony? It feels ironic. I’ll figure it out.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of Daryl’s lips as he leaned forward onto the wooden barrier keeping them from falling if either of them were to take a wrong step. He felt something gnawing at him in the pit of his stomach, and he swallowed hard in a futile attempt to get rid of it before clearing his throat.

“Who’s name did you pull?”

“Like ya’ said, it’s Secret Santa.” He grumbled.

You rotated yourself slightly to face him, allowing just one leg to hang free from the deck whilst the other was bent at the knee. 

“Don’t be an asshole, Dixon.” You pleaded, “Tell me!”

“Mind ya’ business.”

“Unless it’s me I don’t see why you can’t tell me.”

Daryl stayed quiet and you couldn’t help but laugh in both amusement and disbelief.

“You’re kidding. Did you really get me something?”

“Will you shut up? You ain’t even s’posed t’ know.”

He finally turned his head to find you unable to suppress the grin spreading across your face. Your eyes were twinkling again, but not with the sadness of earlier. That paired with the blush on your nose and cheeks from the cold and your little hands clinging desperately to the blanket around you made it impossible to say no. That gnawing feeling grew and he took a large breath before retrieving his hand from his pocket.

“Don’ tell Jerry.”

He passed you an strangely shaped object covered in aluminium foil. You took it from him and beamed. You weren’t sure why you were surprised he actually got you something. Maybe it was the fact he thought to wrap it at all, or that he was trying to follow the rules so it really would be a surprise. Would you have ever known it was him if you hadn’t pestered him in this moment? You held the gift in your hands as if it could break at any second whilst your heart was attempting to beat itself out of your chest.

“Do you want me to wait?” You asked, just in case, “I can open it later.”

Daryl shook his head and grabbed the flask again, taking several gulps to warm up his insides. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you, studying your features carefully waiting for a sign of repulsion or embarrassment. It never came and without realising it his own features softened.

“It’s yours. Sorry I couldn’ find any paper.”

“It’s shiny and it serves its purpose.” You responded without hesitation, “It’s perfect.”

You carefully unfolded the foil in a futile attempt not to tear it and destroy the fantasy Daryl had created for you. The intricate motions felt painfully slow, and with every layer you tore away the nastier the self-deprecation in his head got. He felt stupid for trying. Was it too much? Was it not enough? He had no fuckin’ idea. Even before the world went to shit he didn’t come from the kind of family that exchanged gifts. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t. All he could do was drink and bite at the skin of his lips until they bled.

“Oh my god.”

He swallowed hard and braced himself for the worst. Your eyebrows were drawn together as you studied the object in all its detail. Eventually you shook it, and you grinned again.

“Where the hell did you find something like this?”

It was a snowglobe, somehow perfectly intact despite the number of years it had been collecting dust in a world full of violence and filth. Daryl had stumbled upon it on a run where he had found a strip of houses to loot. It was sat on a mantelpiece, and though Daryl didn’t know much about England or even London, he knew about Big Ben.

You shook it again and laughed. He watched you gaze at it in wonder, eyeing the details on the clock tower as plastic snow danced around it. Most of his anxieties melted away at the sight of that alone, but he still felt uneasy, as if he had done something wrong.

“I love it, Daryl. I didn’t even realise I’d spoken about London before.”

He nodded, his words stuck in the back of his throat. You had only mentioned London once before, something in passing, but he remembered. He remembered everything you said to him over the years. Maybe that was why this felt so wrong, as if he had taken this -- whatever this is -- too far.

Your heart was still thumping. Daryl had never been a talker, but he’d also never failed to show you that he cared. Even just by doing little things like making sure you ate properly or were sleeping okay. This was a different kind of show and tell and you weren’t sure what to do with it. 

Your affection for the archer had snuck up on you a long time ago and you usually found it quite easy to push it down and away. There were other things to concern yourself with, things to do to make sure not just you but your community could survive. But right now you were stuck in a loop. Behind his grouchy disposition was a warmth you desperately wanted to wrap yourself in.

The blanket wasn’t enough. Not right now. 

“It’s nothin’.” He finally responded, and this time you were lost for words.

You turned back towards the fair, avoiding his blue gaze as you thought to yourself. Neither of you knew what the hell this was or what the hell you were doing. You had spent so much time ignoring or rejecting the possibility of something more that now it had slapped you both across the face you were dumbfounded.

Was it supposed to be this complicated? This confusing? Or was it actually not at all and you were both just useless at all of this?

Tomorrow things would likely carry on as normal but right now, things were different. Something had shifted and it was entirely possibly you had been forced into the uncharted territory you were both so scared of. 

You swallowed hard shimmied closer to him again. Using your free arm, you tried to fling half of the blanket around his broad shoulders. It fell off of him immediately, but he didn’t question it. He picked it up, nudged closer to you, and wrapped it around himself.

A sigh of relief escaped you. Not just because he took the blanket but because he was practically a radiator. 

“I knew you were cold.” Your words were soft, almost hesitant despite being teasing.

Daryl looked down at you, his tongue flitting across his bottom lip as he watched you watch the world go by at the Christmas fair. He carefully sought out your hand with his own, and without even thinking about it you allowed your fingers to intertwine with his.

“You’re the one wi’ blue fingers.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. Instead, you rested your head on his shoulder again with a smile and allowed whatever excuses he made to comfort him. The fact you didn’t pull away was enough, and though he always knew you wouldn’t be as rough and calloused as he was, he couldn’t quite get over how soft your fingers were.

“Did you want to look around the fair?”

He allowed his thumb to glide across the back of your hand.

“Nah. I like it up here.”

[kurt-nightcrawler]

Comfort and Care

𝐃𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐪𝐮𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

(𝑭𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆!𝑫𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

Blurb: Dominique comes over to help the reader feel a bit better after a bad week

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: so this is very self indulgent! I haven’t been doing too well mentally and that isn’t really portrayed in the fic but I wrote this because of that... I hope you enjoy! (Also I may write more lost girls content? We will see what happens! Let me know what you’re all vibing with!)

You cried yourself to sleep. You could barely focus on your studies and you didn’t even have the strength to brush your teeth. 

You wanted it all to stop. The feeling to pass. You hated it and you hated yourself for it. 

You didn’t want to get up and move, but you knew you had to. 

—

You groaned and got up from your bed. Your reflection was sad— reflecting your current state— your hair was oily, a sign you needed to shower, Your skin was breaking out again, and your pajamas looked wrinkled and worn from you wearing them for days on end. 

You didn’t have the strength or energy to change and make yourself presentable, but you had plans to meet your friends at the boardwalk. 

You didn’t want to go. But you had to. They’d be upset you canceled on them. You hadn’t seen them since last weekend. 

“Ugh! Fuck it!” They probably wouldn’t care anyway. 

You went to the kitchen to grab the landline and dial-up the Emerson’s home phone. 

If Grandpa hasn’t wrecked it yet. 

It rang. It rang, and it rang, and it rang, and it—

—it stopped. 

“Hello?” 

“Michelle?” You asked. 

“Hey, (Y/N)! What’s up?” 

“Oh um, I don’t… I don’t feel good… I don’t think I’m gonna go to the boardwalk tonight.” 

“Okay… I’ll tell the others. Do you want Dominique to come over? She’s gonna be pissed you didn’t show.” 

A wave of guilt flashed over you. You hadn’t seen your girlfriend in a week… 

She was going to be upset, and you didn’t want to upset her, but you really didn’t want to go out.

“Um, I’ll see her tomorrow…” 

“Okay. Hope you feel better!”

“Thanks…” you put the phone back on the hook and went immediately back to your room. 

You turned on your small tv, not bothering to see what was on, and buried yourself under the covers, and tried to fall asleep to the sounds of the television. 

—

“(Y/N)... (Y/N)...” 

You groaned as you slowly awoke. “Hhhhhhhh…” You rubbed your eyes and opened them. 

Above you was Dominique. She was straddling your lap, her hand cradling your cheek. 

“You’re up.” 

“What— what are you doing here?” You asked. 

“Michelle said you didn’t feel good,” She stated. 

“Yeah, but—“ 

“I brought you snacks, some blankets, your heating pad you left at the cave, I even brought some movies from Darcy’s collection.”

“Thanks...” 

Dominique frowned, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just tired. Tired of everything. I’m so overwhelmed but I don’t do anything! I feel so alone all the time. Which is stupid as hell, but—“ 

“Oh, Kitten, it’s okay… I get it…” 

“It’s so stupid. I’m stupid. I wish I got to see you more often,” You frowned. “My parents are just arguing all the time and I’m worried they’ll drag me into it. I don’t know if I can take it.” 

“Where are they now?” She asked. 

“My mom went to her sister’s and my dad is at my grandpa’s. It’s just us.” 

“Come here,” Dominique helped you get up and lean against your pillow. “It’s okay. This feeling will pass…”

“It feels like it never will. I was doing fine for so long and now I’m not! It’s pathetic.” 

“No. You are not pathetic. You are amazing and strong and doing your absolute best.”  

Dominique tried to give you a kiss, but you flinched.

“What is it?” She asked. 

“I haven’t brushed my teeth today… my breath probably smells awful.” 

“I don’t care. Pumpkin, I’m dead. My breath smells bad all the time. My eyebrows disappear when I vamp out. I kill people.” 

“But still… I’m disgusting. My skin is breaking out again and I look like an oily rat.” 

“When was the last time you showered?” She asked. 

“I don’t even remember. Maybe Monday? I don’t know…” You felt so helpless. You felt so embarrassed in your girlfriend’s arms. 

“How about we take a warm shower? That sound good?” 

“Okay.” 

Dominique led you into the bathroom and helped you strip out of your dirty pajamas. “Have you eaten today?” She asked. 

“Yeah. I had some peanut butter and apple slices.” 

“Anything else?” 

“Coffee.”

Dominique frowned, tossing her shirt off and throwing it with your clothes, “Coffee isn’t a meal, kitten.” 

“Yeah, but I needed the caffeine.”

“After your shower, I’ll make you something to eat. Come on.” 

Dominique stuck her hand out to see if the water from the tub faucet was warm enough. When she decided it was, she pulled the diverter valve, letting the showerhead run. She held your hand, helping you into the shower. 

You stood directly under the showerhead, letting it beat down on your hair. Dom grabbed your shampoo bottle, squirting some product into her hands, before lathering it into your scalp. 

Her body pressed against yours. It was cold. Her hands in your hair were just as chilly. 

You had become used to the feeling, but you still shivered. She was a stark contrast against the hot water coming down.

You rinsed out your shampoo and applied conditioner to your ends. You thought about shaving, but Dominique said that could be done another time. 

You ran your fingers through your hair, washing the conditioner out of the ends when you noticed Dominique’s mullet no longer styled. 

“Oh, your hair!” You cooed. “It’s all soaked.”

“It’s fine.” She waved off. “I’ll fix it later.” 

You turned the water off and Dominique grabbed a towel for you. 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” You both dried off and looked in your room for some clean clothes. 

“Here’s one of your sweatshirts…” You sheepishly handed over. “I think I have some of your sweatpants too…”

Dominique chuckled. She gave them to you to keep, you didn’t have to be so shy about it. “Thanks, Kitten. What do you want to eat?”

“I dunno…”

Dom restated her question. “What do you have?” 

“Uh, I think chicken strips…”

“Pumpkin…” She warned. 

“What?”

“You cannot eat chicken strips for every meal.”

“I didn’t! I made pasta this week, and I even had a vegetable!” 

“Good! Good, I’m proud. Sit at the counter and I’ll find something to make.” A small smile snuck its way onto your face as you got yourself an empty glass and filled it with water. You sat down, watching Dom look through your fridge and cupboard. 

“Want me to make salmon? Or was your mom saving that?”

“Oh, um, if it’s in the freezer go ahead.” 

You watched Dominique take out a baking tray, and place a piece of foil over it. She poured olive oil over it and added some spices to season the bottom side of the salmon. She cut up a lemon into thin slices, placing some on the pan and saving the rest for the top of the fish. She placed the salmon onto the tray and added more seasoning. 

“I’m going to steam some veggies too. Can you get them out for me, Pumpkin?” 

“Yeah,” You got up from your seat and opened the fridge. “We just have carrots and broccoli… um, there’s also some rice leftover from… I think Thursday…?” 

“Get it out. I can reheat it.” 

You placed it all on the counter for Dom to have access to. You sat back down and continued watching her cook as you absentmindedly sipped on your water. 

As Dom steamed the carrots and broccoli, heated the rice, and cleaned up, she just had to wait for the fish to finish cooking in the oven. 

She turned her attention to you. 

she cupped your face with one hand gently, “You look tired.” 

“So do you,” You teased. 

Dominique squinted her eyes. “Are you trying to cause trouble?” 

“No…” You had to hold back a giggle. She rolled her eyes and kissed your forehead. 

“Lemme get you some more water.” She took your cup and refilled it. 

“Thanks.” 

“Mhmm,” Dominique glanced at the oven timer. There was a little less than two minutes left for the salmon. 

“I’m going to see if it’s done. It probably is.” She opened the oven door and—

“Use an oven mitt!” You reminded her. 

Dom almost scoffed, “Kitten, my skin will heal in a week—“ 

“It will smell like burnt flesh for weeks if you don’t use an oven mitt. And I don’t want you to hurt yourself.” 

Dominique found it sweet how much you cared about her, even if it was in a minuscule moment like this. She grabbed the nearest oven mitt— yellow, with a sunflower design all over. It clashed with her aesthetic for sure, but safety before fashion. 

Dom pulled the salmon out and poked it with a fork.

“yeah, I think it’s done. I’ll take it out and let it cool. Get yourself a plate.” 

You did as you were told, and you filled your plate up with vegetables and rice and your piece of salmon. 

“Are you going to eat anything?” You asked Dominique. 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“You sure?” 

“If I want some food, I’ll take it from you later, and besides, I only need blood to survive.” She reminded you. 

“Have you drank lately? Do you need to? You can have some of my blood while we watch a movie, I don’t mind,” You told her as you took your plate and headed to your bedroom. 

“I’m fine, pumpkin.” She shut the door behind you, put a random movie in the tv’s tape player, and made herself comfortable on your bed. 

“Besides, I don’t want to drink from you right now, it will affect your mood… and I want you to get better… Okay?”

“Oh. Okay.” 

Dominique stroked your cheek, “Don’t feel bad, (Y/N). I can get blood from anyone… but I can only get one of you, and I want you to be happy. You’re my girlfriend, I care about you a lot.” 

You weren’t sure if you wanted to cry or not. 

Dom wasn’t always the best with words, and she had a bit of trouble saying “I love you”, which you didn’t mind. She showed she loved you in other ways than just words. Like coming over with movies and blankets because you said you weren’t feeling good, or washing your hair for you, or cooking you dinner. 

“Thank you. I love you.” 

“Mhmm,” She wrapped an arm around you and kissed your forehead. 

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Our Doll 9//find a way of coping

B.Barnes x S.Rogers, B.Barnes x Stark!Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

Series Synopsis | After the events of the horrific past, y/n Stark, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes have finally admitted their feelings for each other. But is life as an avenger whilst dating two super soldiers any easier than anything y/n’s experienced in the past?

sequel Series to Their Doll

Series Warnings | smut, violence, torture, swearing, threesomes, drug usage/substance abuse

Chapter Summary | y/n is struggling to cope after Sokovia. Someone unexpected shows up

Warnings | swearing, drug use, violence, descriptions of dead bodies

A/n | This is a sequel book/series to my fic Their Doll! This book loosely follows the mcu timeline, starting in CAWS in book one and starting just before AOU in this book. Bucky had been recovered and is safe, and Peter was taken under Tony's wing when he was much younger.

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Y/n sighed, rolling the joint between her fingers as she sat back. Since being at the new compound, y/n had found a place to hide just past the treelike of the surrounding woods - a place that no one else had found so far.

She brought the joint to her lips, her thumb flicking it the lighter until the little flame danced, lighting the tip. She breathed in, taking a hit before lowering the joint from her mouth and breathing the smoke out. Her head rolled back, resting against the tree behind her.

Y/n let her eyes slip shut, being the joint back up and taking another hit of the weed. She could feel herself relaxing, muscles lax and stress leaving.

It was the first time in days that her mind was taken off of what she'd done, and she was relishing in it. She let the rolled up joint hang from her fingers, wrist loose as she rested her forearm on her knees, which were tucked into her chest.

"Y/n? What the fuck are you doing!?" Y/n groaned, her eyes fluttering open as she rubbed her eyes.

"Shit." She muttered, gasping when she felt Bucky's fingers curl around her jaw, tilting her head up to his as he leaned in close. He examined her reddened eyes, expression u telling of his emotions.

"Are you high?" He pushed after a moment, tone harsh, like a bite.

"No!" Y/n defended, bringing a hand up and slapping Bucky's arm away from her. She stood up, rolling her eyes at Bucky as he glared at her. "You interrupted me before I could get that far." She mumbled under her breath, and Bucky scoffed, placing his hands on his hip.

"Come on, doll. I okay ow you're struggling right now...but drugs? Seriously? I thought you were better than this." Bucky dismissed, shaking his head disapprovingly.

"Well I'm so sorry to disappoint you, asshole! You're not the one that killed a bunch of innocent people, Buck!" Y/n raised her voice, throwing her hands in the air. Bucky tilted his head with a frustrated look, pacing towards y/n so quickly that she backed up into the tree. Y/n let out a small oomph as her back collided with the bark, Bucky's body pressed against hers.

"I didn't kill a bunch of innocent people, hm? Did you forget who you're talking to, y/n? I'm the goddamn poster boy for killing innocents, doll!" Bucky shouted, his spit spraying her face as the veins in his neck and forehead protruded, face red. "But it doesn't mean I resorted to drugs, y/n! That shit messes you up, it's fuckin' dangerous!"

"At least you weren't lucid when you killed them." Y/n shot back in a barely audible mumble that had Bucky scoffing with a short, humourless laugh.

"Wasn't lucid? Doesn't make it any fuckin' better, y/n! I still killed them!" Bucky exclaimed, eyes wide as he pushed away from her. He sighed deeply, but y/n stayed in place, breathing heavy.

"Look, I'm sorry for shouting, okay? But jus- just please promise me you won't use that stuff again? I don't want you hurting yourself with that shit." Bucky said calmly now, a soft plea in his eyes that made y/n instinctively nod.

"I won't. I promise." Y/n murmured, and Bucky sighed again, throwing his arms out to the side. Y/n rushed forwards, leaping into his arms so hard that Bucky took a few steps back, encasing the girl into his warm embrace.

"I've got you doll, I've got you. You're okay." He mumbled, his nose buried in y/n's hair as he spoke.

...

The second I entered the room, I was spinning on my heal to leave again. Steve's hand wrapping a round my bicep stopped me in my tracks though, his face levelling with mine.

"Doll, please." He murmured, blue eyes soft. I rolled my eyes, but straightened up and turned around anyway. A fake smile occupied my lips as I crossed my arms over my test, tilting my head with a hum. Tony rolled his eyes, placing his hands on his hips and Sharon stepped forward, extending a hand.

"Hi, I'm Sharon Carter. I'm here to assistant with your training and trying to keep your powers under control." She said with a pitiful look. I eyes her hand but never took it, instead looking over the woman's shoulder at Tony.

"Her? Really? What's she gonna do; be some pointless victim for me?" I scoffed and my dad threw me a glare. I could practically feel the awkwardness radiating between Steve and Sharon, Steve's Adam's apple bobbing furiously as he swallowed thickly. Sharon's eyes darted between the two of us, skittish and almost scared; like I would hurt her if she looked at him too long.

"Y/n speak friendlier." Tony barked through gritted teeth, the embarrassment he felt clear in his tone. I scoffed again, letting my eyes roll obnoxiously.

"No, Mr Stark, it's okay." Sharon waved off, a tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes spreading across her pink lips. "I know we got off on the, uh, wrong foot," she cleared her throat and I scoffed. "But I hope we can...start over. I think we could be good friends."

"Yeah, sure." I said nonchalantly, shaking my head and hitting my hip out.

"Y/n," Steve said, tone a little too harsh, "please, just give her a chance. She knows what's she's doing." That comment had my turning to face the super soldier, brow quirked.

"Oh yeah, Steve? I'm sure she really knew what she was doing when she fucked you. Did she bounce on it real good?" I mocked, but my words were no where near playful. Steve cleared his throat, avoiding my gaze as he spoke.

"Come on, y/n, that's not fair. We were broken up!" Steve exclaimed with a frown. Y/n just glared at him, a silence ensuing. After a moment Tony clapped his hands together turning to Sharon.

"Should I show you to your room?" He inquired and the blonde woman tilted her head in a smile.

"I think that's a great idea." As they walked out of the room, Sharon took one last glance at steve before the thud of the door was signalling their exit.

And that was it for y/n.

"Why were you looking at her?" Y/n mumbled, looking up at Steve, whose eyes were still trained on the door. The man smirked, baby blue eyes darting down to meet with y/n's as his pearly-white teeth flashed.

"You're jealous." He gloated, and y/n smacked his chest.

"Of course I'm fuckin' jealous! Why wouldn't I be?" Y/n snapped, and Steve drew the squirming girl into his arms.

"You have nothing to worry about. I was just..lost in thought, I guess." Steve sighed, placing a kiss into y/n's hair as she settled into his embrace. "Just try not to kill Sharon while she's helping you train, I'd never forgive myself." Steve mumbled and y/n giggled against his broad chest.

"I can't make any promises." She murmured back. Steve chest vibrates in a mumble as he chuckled, another kiss being dropped into her hair.

...

The last person I expected to show up was Peter. I hadn't spoken to him much since the night of the party, and I fully intended on walking straight passes him. But the stupid teenager had other plans.

I was already frustrated, on edge; Sharon had just finished my first training session and all I could think about the whole time were her fair hands all over steve, her perfectly pink lips on his, her naked body pressed to his-

I shook the thoughts off, blinking a couple times before looking up at Peter again.

"Can we talk?" The boy mumbled, eyes pleading as he looked hopefully at me. I sighed, heavy and long, before giving him a small nod. My day couldn't really get any worse anyway, so what was the harm in indulging him?

He led me to one of the common rooms, which was empty and barely even looked like it had been decorated yet. The sides were empty as well as the walls, a simple sofa sat in the middle of a lonely room. Peter led me over to it, the cushions dipping as we both perched on the seat.

"I wanted to apologise." Peter said after a moment, head hanging as he broke the awkward silence. I gulped, swallowing thickly at his words. "I wanted to apologise for how much of a dick I was. Before." He said he didn't receive a reply from me.

"Okay." I mumbled, fidgeting with the hem of my shirt. "Why?"

"Because it wasn't fair, how we rested you. How he treated you. How I treated you." Peter spoke with a tight, barely-there, smile. "I know I didn't do much, but I'm staring to thick that was the problem. I could feel done something; included you, talked to Mr Stark." Peter continued.

My fists clenched and unclenches at the memories, my jaw tightening as I listened to him speak. I could feel that bubbling urge, rising so high to the surface I was struggling to shove it back down again.

"Peter." I said sharply, harshly. The boy frowned, trying to look at me but my head was turned away. "Peter, I need to you leave. Get out of the room. Now." I grated through gritted teeth, closing my eyes tightly and willing the urges down. "Please." My voice cracked and Peter slowly stood, hands out in surrender as he babbled, confused. "Now!" I growled, but it was too late.

I opened my eyes to see the brown-haired boy crouched in the floor, hands grasping his head as he groaned in pain.

"Y/n...please...stop...you're hurting...me!" Peter stammered, words wheezed out through the pain as a scream clutched his throat. I gasped, I think. But the rage was burning; a horrid, contagious feeling that ate me from the inside out. "Y/n, please!" He screamed, falling forwards so his forehead resting against the floor.

I was vaguely aware of the click of the door opening, then slamming closed as footsteps piled into the room. Frantic worries as Tony crouched over Peter; barking orders into the room.

A softly murmured  'm'sorry' before a sharp pain in my head, vision knocked out as my body fell limply against the sordid wall of muscle besides me.

Taglists

Steve Rogers Series/mini Series | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll @macylawz @zaphdekota @bval-1

Bucky Barnes Series/mini Series | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll @marvelhoesworld @macylawz @zaphdekota

Steve Rogers One-shot, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll @marvelhoesworld @macylawz @zaphdekota @bval-1 @anakinsslag

Bucky Barnes One-shot, Drabbles and Headcannons | @buckysgirl101 @quxxnxfhxll @macylawz @zaphdekota @anakinsslag

Join my taglist now!

If your name is crossed out, it means I couldn’t tag you!

[winterscaptain]

white album.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

ask: i saw something earlier saying that haley was cheating on hotch (totally true) and just imagine hotch being super vulnerable and open to the reader about his insecurities in a relationship because of it 🥺 a/n: i promise i’ll give you all a break from my nonsense after this one! i got the above message from an anon today, and this happened and i’m not even a little sorry. i wrote this one all in one sitting too, so feel free to shout about any errors - i’m always appreciative of your catches! words: 1838 warnings: mentions of infidelity

disclaimer: i am in the “Haley Cheated on Hotch” camp, but I’m also in the “I Totally Understand Some of Her Choices and Respect Her” camp. we stan grey morality in this house and understand that marriage is very very hard!

AO3 | Masterlist | Requests Closed

+++

Your phone rang, and you jumped up and kissed Aaron on the head before slipping out of the room. Before you could close the door, he heard your relieved “Hi, how are you?”

He did his best to keep the anxiety at bay. You weren’t seeing anyone else. You loved him. You loved him. You loved him.

It wasn’t sure how long it had been when you stepped back in, phone in-hand.

“What did I miss?” You asked, gesturing to the still-rolling movie on the screen.

He snapped to and said, “Um...I’m not sure. Let’s – ah – we’ll just pick up from where you left.” He shot you a tight smile.

You frowned at him. “What’s wrong, Aaron?”

He shook his head, pulling you close and kissing your temple. “Nothing, honey. I’m good.”

+++

The next week, you were checking your email in the kitchen when your phone rang again. It was Emily, and you smiled upon answering.

“Hey...Yeah...He didn’t see anything, did he?”

Aaron paused in the hallway and pressed his back against the wall, listening.

“No, it’s really important this stays under wraps...Yeah...Oh, shit I gotta go, I think I hear him.”

He gave it another few seconds before he backtracked to the bedroom door and loudly made his way down the hallway toward the kitchen. He swung around the corner and came up behind you, subtly looking over your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “What are you working on in here?”

You leaned back into him, humming contentedly. “Just checking some emails. One of the Idaho consults had a follow-up, and I guess it’s time sensitive.”

He kissed your temple, but his jaw was tight. “Glad you’re staying on top of it.”

When he stepped away from you, walking out of the kitchen toward the living room without his cup of coffee, you furrowed your brow.

What is that about?

+++

It was the day after he caught you whispering with Emily in the break room that he’d decided to do a little digging. He called Emily into his office and shut the door behind her.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

She shook her head slightly and frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Y/N. There’s something going on and I want to know what it is.”

“Hotch, I – I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Her voice ticked up at the end, like it was a question.

Emily was a good liar, but not that good. He huffed. “Fine. Nevermind.”

“Is that all you needed?” She asked, tentative. Her thumb traced the side of her finger – one of her few tells.

She’s lying.

“Yes, thank you. You’re dismissed.” He returned to his paperwork, holding onto his pen a little too tight.

+++

“Alright,” you said, pausing the movie. “What’s wrong with you, Aaron?”

He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight. “If you’re seeing someone else, that’s fine. I’d just rather you tell me instead of keeping it from me and making Prentiss lie for you.”

Your eyes widened, and you shifted, facing him with one foot tucked under you. “What are you talking about?”

He scoffed. “Is that the party line now? ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about?’ C’mon, Y/N, you think I haven’t noticed? Did you know I did this with Haley? The sneaking around, the phone calls, the secrets? She was horrible at hiding it and somehow you’re even worse.”

It all clicked together for you.

Oh. Oh no.  

His bitter words didn’t hurt you, but your heart ached for the ease with which they left his mouth.

As if he’d said them, or thought them, before.

“Aaron...” you said, reaching for him. He pulled his arm from your touch, crossing them.

Only one way to do this. He’s past listening.

You stood, stomping to your bedroom and digging the box out from underneath your bed and returning to the living room. You’d wrapped it well, with padding, so you had no qualms about throwing it into the couch beside him with a certain degree of force.

He startled, and looked up at you. Tears were threatening, and you were so fucking angry at him.

“Open it.”

Still watching you carefully, he picked up the thin, wide box and set it in his lap. It was beautifully wrapped. He looked down as he gingerly removed the ribbon and opened it along the tape line at the back.

All the air left him in a huff when he lifted the lid and saw what was inside. He completely deflated, and you saw regret flood through him.

You’d spent months conspiring with Emily and all her friends in high places to find an early pressing of The Beatles’ White Album. The one you found was nearly in mint condition – kept safe by a collector in northern London - and cost a small fortune. Aaron’s birthday was next week, and though it wasn’t a milestone birthday by any stretch, you had the idea a year before and couldn’t let it go.

His fingers traced the gatefold cover, the pressing number (under one hundred, thank you very much), and the original apple logo – the signatures of an early copy. His mouth opened and closed a few times, as if he was going to say something before he thought better of it.

You still stood beside the couch, still a little angry and still a little out of breath. You had to admit, though, his awe and shock made your heart swell. It really was a grand surprise, and you probably wouldn’t be able to top it for the rest of your life.

In five years together, grand gestures had been few and far between. It was more than time for something phenomenal.

Eventually, he put the album back into the box you wrapped it in, and set it aside. He stood and crossed to you, gathering you into his arms.

“God, honey, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You let yourself lean into him, pressing your hands to his waist. He tucked his head into the crook of your neck, holding you tight. You wiggled, getting your arms up over his shoulders to put your hands in his soft dark hair. “What was that about, huh?” You leaned back and gave him a watery smile, brushing the stubborn cowlicks off his forehead.

He shrugged, his eyes cast downward, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt.

“Wait, Aaron, were you serious?” You tipped his chin up with your finger, searching for his eyes. “Haley cheated on you?” Your voice was gentle, quiet. You weren’t about to speak ill of the dead, let alone the mother of your favorite child on the planet, but you couldn’t push down the spike of anger in your belly.

The very thought was incomprehensible to you. He’d never told you.

Aaron shook his head a little, and you were startled to find tears in his eyes. “I never – I never caught them or anything, but there were...signs.” He sighed, and you tugged him so your foreheads met. The space you made together was dark, safe. “Odd phone calls during the day where the house phone would ring, I’d answer, and then they’d hang up, only for her cell phone to ring seconds later. She always took those calls outside. She took her purse and phone everywhere.”

“Aaron...”

He continued, and you listened. “And she was...happier, I guess? Not exactly, but she didn’t put so much effort into fighting. She gave up easier, like it...didn’t matter whether she won the argument or not.”

Though he hesitated through much of his recollection, his voice was even – almost matter of fact.  

“And then she left. And I’ve always thought I had it coming, like I deserved it. I might have. I probably did.” He sighed, and he tucked his head back into your shoulder. “I’m always a little afraid that it’ll happen again.”

You shook your head. “No, love. Never.”

He sniffed, and you continued.

“You are a kind, attentive, and thoughtful partner. Your integrity is beyond measure, and I love the way you pour yourself into your work and take care of our team.” You tangled your fingers in his hair and held him to you. You were nowhere near finished. “You are a fantastic parent. The evenness with which you manage Jack is one of the most admirable things I’ve ever seen. You model honesty and compassion for your son and you do it so well.

“It is so clear how much you care about people, Aaron. You are a blessing to the families we serve. Honey, you’re so smart and so articulate that I sometimes can’t breathe listening to you speak.” He huffed a laugh at that, and you knew it was working. “I feel so loved by you all the time. I know how much you love me. And I hope you know how much I love you. How much I’ll always love you.”

He nodded, and you pressed kiss upon kiss to the side of his head.

“I love you so much.” He raised his head and looked at you, and his lashes were wet. You brushed his tears away with your thumbs. He closed his eyes and leaned into your hands.  

“Come sit with me.” You steered him by the shoulders and led him back to the couch. You pushed him down and straddled his lap, and his hands automatically fell to your hips. There was nothing sexual about it – you just wanted to be as close to him as possible. He wrapped his arms around you as you tucked into his chest.

“I’m sorry I made you think the worst, love. I just wanted it to be a good surprise.”

He kissed the top of your head. “It was a really good surprise. I’m sorry I’m a jackass.”

You laughed into his chest and tipped your head up to kiss the underside of his jaw.

You sat there for a while, his hands tracing patterns along your spine.

Your voice was small when you asked, “Do you like it?”

He somehow managed to squeeze you closer to him before releasing you so you could meet his eyes. “I love it.” He framed your face with his hands, and kissed you. “I can’t imagine how difficult it was to find.”

You kissed the corner of his mouth. “You can thank Emily for locating it.” You looked over at the box. “It came all the way from London, and arrived just a couple of days ago. I had it shipped to Emily’s so you wouldn’t suspect anything, and I had to be in touch with the seller fairly often in the last couple of weeks.”

He felt like a class-A moron. He just looked at you, completely dumbstruck. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You shook your head and took his hands in yours, kissing them before holding them to your chest. “I could ask you the same question.”

tagging: @arganfics @quillvine @stxrryspencer @agenthotchner @wandaswitxh @hurricanejjareau @fics-ilike @octothorpetopus @ange-must-die @ughitsbaby @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @shrimpyblog @genevievedarcygranger @ssaic-jareau @saintd0lce @good-heavens-chris-evans @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @gublergirls @writefasttalkevenfaster @venusbarnesmb @vintagecaptainspidey

[heyitsyn]

Oh God

TimeTraveler!Son x Haikyuu!! Part 2

a/n: hehe i wouldnt put ‘x haikyuu’ if manager y/n ends up with that certain character. youll just have to,,,, wait for the end 😏

he didnt want to lie but he had to so he could survive

hinata offered his hand to help him up and natsu winced at the scratches and the slight headache as he stood on his two feet

‘you okay?’

hinata asked and natsu nodded

‘yea, just a headache’

natsu tried to play it off as cooly as he could bc this must’ve been from the car hit before and he couldnt just say he got ran over by a damn car

‘where do you live? i can go and treat your wounds there’

natsu was about to respond but he remembers hes not in tokyo anymore and he cant just spout out his address

so he did the thing his mom told him to do whenever it was necessary

he lied

‘i-um,,,’

he fumbled for an excuse but he sighed to maintain the act

‘i got kicked out’

he mumbled and hinata had to make him repeat it twice because he said it so quietly

the tangerine boy gasped and held his arms

‘what?! why?!’

natsu sniffled

‘my dad,,,, he just,,, doesnt want me’

well, that was actually true

so a true statement could equal that lie, right?

thankfully, hinata bought it and he grabbed his arm to walk forward while his other was pushing his bike

‘i hit you with my bike so the least i could do is take you to my house and treat you!’

and that was what they did

natsu’s phone was dead even though he was sure he charged it from denki’s powerbank during practice but it remained its black screen no matter how many times he hit the power button

his surroundings was also something unfamiliar

his mother only kept him in tokyo and never took him to go visit her family because she was kicked out and had to go live with her auntie when she found out about him and his father refused to help her

‘so, sendai, huh?’

he mumbled and hinata looked at him confused

‘sounds like youre not from around here. where you from?’

‘t-tokyo’

he replied and saw hinata’s eyes brighten

‘oh?! you look like youre my age so you must have been in a high school in tokyo, right? what school?’

‘yuuei’

‘hah?! yuuei?! what is that?!’

natsu rolled his eyes and shrugged

‘a school’

hinata persisted though

‘do you know other schools?! any other school friends?! like nekoma?! or fukurodani?!’

natsu shook his head and he was supposed to be happy that he got to meet, even talk, to his idol yet his younger self was much more hyper than his mellowed out behavior on tv

‘i stick to my friends from yuuei’

‘but what are you doing all the way here?’

natsu’s throat dried up and he watched his feet kick the pebbles to distract him of his urge to just whine and throw a tantrum with the confusion from this mess

‘i dont know’

he choked out and he was so tired and confused and all he wants to do is cry in his mother’s arms like he used to but she doesnt even know he exists

hinata sensed the tension and sadness from the boy beside him and tried his best to stay quiet until they get home

to say his mom was angry was an understatement

‘SHOYO, DONT YOU KNOW TO WATCH WHERE YOURE GOING?!’

‘kaa-san i was so angry and bakageyama was yelling at me and hit me and-’

‘THAT DOESNT GIVE YOU AN EXCUSE TO RUN SOMEONE OVER!’

natsu sat there on their couch awkwardly watching the black-haired woman yell at the human tangerine

he coughed in impulse and she turned away from her son and went to sit next to the h/c boy

‘dear, im so sorry for my son and his terrible biking. i didnt catch your name when you entered, what is it?’

even hinata forgot to ask his name but thats such a hinata thing to do though

natsu froze

if he was to say his mother’s last name, it would raise suspicion that he might know her in this time period and izuku has shown him enough doctor who to show him what happens when he messes up in time

again, he lied

‘kiri,,,shima,,, natsu. kirishima natsu’

he inwardly apologized to eijirou for using his last name

mrs. hinata raised a hand to her mouth with a surprised gasp

‘oh! my daughter’s name is also natsu! natsu, dear! can you come here for a second?’

natsu heard soft sounds from the stairs and she shyly walked down 

‘come say hi’

she softly urged her daughter to come closer and the little girl ran to hide behind her older brother who gently smiled and held her hand

‘well, thats her. she just turned 10 a few days ago. look dear, kirishima-kun has the same name as you!’

she waved slightly and natsu felt his heart swell at the sight of the adorable little girl

his mother never really had time for relationships so he was an only child and never got to experience a sibling, only hearing the experience of having siblings from his friend, shouto

mrs. hinata placed a gentle hand on his arm to revert his attention back to her

‘shoyo told me what happened and im sorry that this is all happening to you’

he felt guilty at the sight of her sad eyes because this was all a lie but he knew if he told them the real reason, they wouldnt believe him

so he had to continue with the lie

‘everything was falling apart and i wanted to leave everything behind. so i just took the shinkansen to nowhere and ended up here’

mrs. hinata felt her heart tug because he was just a little boy and he was too young to experience this so she offered him something he shouldnt have agreed to but again, survival

‘you can stay with us in the mean time. our guest room has been collecting dust so you can live here’

‘what? no! i can’t!’

natsu instinctually turned it down because he hated people giving him charity

but the woman squeezed his arm to give him a smile

‘i will not allow a child to live in the streets because of something he couldnt help’

‘arent you worried youre inviting a total stranger in your home?’

but she gave him a knowing smile

‘im a mother. i can trust you, boy’

in exchange for board and food, he promised to get a part time job so he could pay her back and get out of their house as quickly as he could

shoyo led him to the bathroom upstairs so he could treat the wounds from the ground

natsu sat on the closed toilet seat while his literal idol was putting cream on his boo-boos

he still cant wrap his head with everything

maybe it was because he was so busy trying to come up with lies that he wasnt able to fully sit down and think about the fact that he just TRAVELED BACK IN TIME and could accidentally change it

‘shoyo, what year is it?’

he mumbled

‘2012′

he answered and natsu sighed but his head perked up

oh god

2012

thats a year away from 2013

the year he was born

that meant shoyo’s team manager was going to give birth to him next year

‘why? did you hit your head so far that you forgot?’

hinata joked but he paled when natsu didnt laugh

‘OH GOD DID YOU?!’

‘NO! AND STOP YELLING!’

natsu shouted, equally surprised

‘whew, thank god. again, im so sorry i hit you’

‘shoyo, dont worry about it, okay? im fine, i swear’

during dinner, mrs. hinata told him about his school situation

‘you can go to karasuno with shoyo. what year were you in?’

‘first’

‘perfect! shoyo is too so he could easily help you around the school!’

natsu nodded quietly, still out of it and his brain finally starting to accept this impossible reality

‘but i dont think i could help you with the entrance exams. im not the most-um-smartest, per se’

shoyo apologized but natsu already knew that

he was no extreme fanatic but he knew quite a lot about hinata shoyo, the player he watched during the 2021 olympics and the reason he started playing volleyball

natsu dreamed to join the msby jackals just like his idol did and eventually reach the national team like hinata did

it was during the olympics of 2021, he knew he wanted to be like him

this boy who sat next to him was the reason he came to love volleyball along with his other idol, oikawa tooru, from the argentina volleyball team after seeing that legendary match 

when oikawa hit that service ace, natsu wanted to be able to receive that

he was merely 8 and his neighbor, midoriya inko, was babysitting him and she placed him and her son who was his friend, izuku, in front of the tv where they watched the olympics match

‘someday, ill be someone great. ill be great like him’

he promised and from then on, he worked to achieve that goal 

‘natsu? hello?’

he was shaken from his thoughts as shoyo nudged him back to reality

mrs. hinata laughed

‘maybe you should head to bed early, dear. you must be tired after having a hard journey’

he nodded and was about to go and wash his dishes when she stopped him

‘no. go and sleep, ill take care of this’

‘i have to do my part in here, hinata-san. please, let me do this’

she finally agreed and he was scrubbing the plates when his mind wandered over to possible solutions on how he could go back

there was an episode that he watched with izuku that the character had to do something to go back

and he had a feeling that he would have to do the same thing

but what would that something be?

there had to be a reason he was thrown all the way in this time and it couldnt just be a coincidence that supposedly, this would be around the same time his mother would get pregnant

but who would it be?

he finished putting the plates on the drying rack and he felt really thirsty suddenly

opening the fridge, he found no water bottles and natsu had a very sensitive stomach so he couldnt drink tap water

his next favorite beverage was there and he pulled a glass from the cabinet

‘hinata-san, is it okay if i can have some milk?’

he called out and she shouted that it was okay

natsu poured the drink on his glass and started drinking it when hinata entered the kitchen and snickered at him

‘yknow, you remind me of my idiot teammate. none of my other friends drink straight milk except for him’

natsu placed the glass down and wiped his lips

‘chocolate milk make me sick and i hate the taste of flavoring in milk. but i just hate flavoring in general. except for gari gari popsicles, those are good’

natsu reasoned, watching hinata move across the room to get an apple

‘still ew. but come on! lets go to bed so i can show you around school early before practice tomorrow!’

natsu noticed his excitement by the way he bounced in place and he chuckled

it reminded him of his friends mina and denki

hinata led them both to his room so he could check his wounds again just to make sure

then something caught his eye

‘kirishima-kun you like volleyball?!’

that threw him off

partly because he wasnt used to being called by his friend’s last name

but also because of the question

‘huh? how do you know that?’

natsu asked, almost defensively

hinata shrugged

‘i saw your volleyball shoes in your bag’

hinata reasoned and excitedly pointed at them

‘you should play for us! im part of the team too! oh oh! what position do you play?!’

‘l-libero’

natsu stuttered out, slightly overwhelmed by hinata’s energy

hinata started circling him, inspecting his height and looking at him up and down

‘yanno, kirishima-kun, youre really tall. like much taller than the rest of my club. maybe not saltyshima but really!! youre so tall!!’

hinata whined in envy and natsu laughed

‘blame it on the paternal side of the family. my ma isnt really tall’

he laughs but then memories of his mother resurfaced and he suddenly felt gloomy, guilty, even, bc he doesnt know if time stopped there or it kept going and if so, shes probably worried sick

and he knew she was always one who blamed herself

hinata noticed his downcast expression and thought he probably remembers his dad and got sad since he got kicked out

so our baby sunshine freaked out and he frantically waved his hands around

‘oh no! gomen kiri-kun! gomen! i really didnt mean to make you think about him! gomen!!!’

he even bowed which surprised the h/c boy and made him stand back up

‘o-oi shoyo! dont! you didnt because i wasnt thinking about him!’

he fussed and patted hinata’s hair

‘i dont care about him. to be honest, there isnt much to think about’

he didnt think about what he said until he heard himself

natsu’s eyes widened, fearful of how hinata could take it but he flinched when the orange-haired boy’s eyes were filled with his own tears

‘OH NO!! KIRI-KUN!!!’

then launched another series of apologies and natsu had to calm him down

oh dear

it was early in the morning like 5 when hinata bursted into natsu’s room

the loud shout of shoyo made his eyes blink open and he groaned before turning to the side

‘come on, kiri-kun! we need to go to take your exam!’

‘nooooooooo’

‘yeeessssssss’

it was quite a battle for hinata to even just get natsu out of bed but he managed to bribe the latter with some milk bread from the bakery down the street

‘2′

natsu showed his two fingers and hinata sighed before nodding

‘yes. now go hurry so we can leave!’

dressed in his grey sweatpants and a yuuei sweatshirt, natsu cursed as he only has clothes good for 2 days and he didnt want to bother the hinatas so he was at a loss

mrs hinata bid the two boys good bye and natsu was yawning and dragging his body to walk while hinata was skipping over to his bike

then he finally realized the problem

he nervously looked at natsu and the taller boy didnt understand why he was looking at him that way

‘what?’

shoyo pointed at the bike and awkwardly smiled

‘uh,,, you see,,, i dont think youd,,, fit,,, at the back seat’

natsu shrugged

‘then ill bike. ive done it before’

he sauntered over to the bike and swiftly lifted his leg before testing out the brake handles

‘its good and better than mine back home’

‘a-are you-’

‘sit down, sho’

hinata gripped on to the back of natsu’s sweatshirt as he told him the directions to how to get to the school

natsu remembered watching an interview of hinata talking about his high-school life and he remembered the star player talking about his dedication to go to karasuno everyday for volleyball

and the boy couldn’t believe hes doing that right now, with his idol literally behind him, and driving to the legendary karasuno high school

from the jackals to the adlers and even some other teams like the frogs, natsu cheered for them

there was a memory of his mother sitting with him on their couch during one of her rare day offs as they rewatched the recorded copy of the olympics

it has become natsu’s favorite thing to watch

‘with great talent comes great hardships. people don’t become good overnight and i watched those people suffer through it all but look where they are now’

‘KIRISHIMA, WATCH OUT! COWS CROSSING!’

natsu was snapped out of his thoughts at hinata’s shout

then it morphed into pure and utter confusion

‘cows?’

shoyo laughed

‘since youre from the city, this must be a weird sight for you, huh? well, in the countryside, this happens a lot!’

but natsu didnt mind

in fact, he loved cows

he loved any farm animal in general

maybe it was his upbringing in the hustle and bustle of the city that he grew to love the countryside

shoto took him with his family to a trip to the country once and he remembered loving the smell of grass

they were able to do an activity in a farm where they worked in a rice farm and the peace and serenity was something he will always remember

his mother was lucky she grew up in a place like this

‘kiri-kun, ive been wanting to ask, how is your volleyball team in the city? are you a powerhouse?’

natsu felt pride bubble up in his chest

‘of course! we got second place in nationals!’

he boasted and blurted out before he could stop himself

then he felt fear

he shouldnt have said that because for all he knows, yuuei probably doesn’t exist at this time period

hinata had a different reaction and his eyes shone

‘WHAT?! WOAH! SO COOL! I HAVE TO TELL OUR CAPTAIN THAT WE’RE GETTING A POWERHOUSE STUDENT!’

‘uh-i-uh-’

natsu didnt know what to say because he had a feeling he definitely just did an oopsie

so he switched topics really quick to divert the attention away from his past

‘o-oi sho, once youre done being a pro volleyball player and stuff, we should have our own rice farm’

of course it was such a random idea but it distracted the orange boy

hinata shrugged

‘i mean,,, i have to be a pro first but i guess we can!’

‘hmm,,,, i dont think you have to worry about that’

.................................................

taglist:

@hartbeat-art​ @yakus-yakult​ @nerdyphantomlady​ @jollycowboysaladhero​ @cynicallychaotic​ 

a/n: oh god this sat in my drafts for so long and i really dont know what im doing like i kinda have a rough outline of what im doing but im just going with the flow but i dont think the flow is quite flowy 

[hollywoods-golden-age-imagines]

Meeting and Dating Scarecrow

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You meet Scarecrow when you’re transported to Oz. We all know that, in the movie, Dorothy hit her head and everything that happened was just a dream. But for the sake of these headcanons, let’s say that Oz is real.

- It had been a day like any other: you’d woken up, eaten breakfast, and gone outside to begin your work for the day. But what had initially been a normal morning, quickly became a dangerous and frightening one as the sky turned dark.

- Having lived in the town for a while, you knew exactly what this meant and headed straight for your cellar. You remained there for close to an hour, up until you couldn’t hear anything and we’re sure that the storm had passed.

- Upon trying at the cellar door, you found yourself struggling to lift the hatch. After a few minutes of shimmying, banging and pushing as hard as you could, the door finally began to lift up; though you found yourself still struggling to manage it.

- You squeezed your way through the crack you managed to form before you finally realized why you’d been struggling. The cellar was covered in grass, grass and dirt as though you’d broken through the ground itself. That was when you looked around and found that you were far from home.

- You were in the middle of some trees; very different from your farm, with bushes and flowers all around you. A few feet away, a yellow brick road led you down towards fields of corn. Well, ...you were either dead or dreaming.

- With nothing else to do, you began to walk down the road.

- Soon enough, you were led straight to the Scarecrow and much like in Dorothys case, you were shocked to find that the Scarecrow was; for all intents and purposes, alive.

- After the initial shock and your successful efforts to help him down, you explained to him what had happened to you and asked if he knew the way back to your city. Turns out, he didn’t even know where or what it was.

- With a sigh, you thanked him “anyways” and began to try and choose which direction you should walk in. As you were thinking, he cane up beside you and hesitantly suggested that he could go with you ...“if you’d like”.

- Who were you to refuse? Soon enough, the two of you were arm in arm and making your way down the yellow brick road.

- And thus began your journey, traveling through the different gardens and towns of Oz, trying to find someone or something that could bring you home. Along the way, you realize that you quite like the Scarecrow, far more than you’d anticipated.

- And that got you thinking that, perhaps, being in Oz wasn’t so bad. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a tragedy if you couldn’t find a way home. Maybe you’d like to stay.

- So when you were finally confronted with the idea of going home and the ability to do so, ...you were hesitant to take the chance. You took a long look around the fantastical place you’d traveled through; your eyes landing on the scarecrow in front of you and his teary eyes, and in a moment of revelation, you shyly confessed that you’d like to stay.

- In an instant, you were swept up into a tight hug and met with a chorus of cheers. And as your heart began to race in response to the Scarecrows joyful embrace, you realized that you were in a bit of trouble.

- So you begin your life in Oz, finding yourself a new home and trying to get situated in the whimsical place. It helps that you aren’t alone; Scarecrow comes to visit often and stays for hours on end.

- The thing about Scarecrow is, you can tell when he has a crush on someone, even before he realizes that he does himself. Though, because you don’t know a lot about Oz and the emotional range of a sentient Scarecrow, you try not to assume anything when it comes to his behavior.

“You know Scarecrow, you don’t have to come and visit me everyday if you don’t want to.” You told him one day, choosing your words carefully as to not make it seem like you didn’t want his company.

“Oh, but I do want to!” He assured you quickly and you gave him a smile.

“But don’t you ever want to spend time on your own, or with someone else? I just don’t understand why you want to spend a perfectly good day doing something boring with me when you could be doing something interesting with someone else.

“Well... I just like you a whole lot. That’s all,” He said at first before he furrowed his brows in thought. Though his next words were directed towards you, they seemed to be said more to himself than anyone else. “I like you bunches.”

“Well, I like you too.” You replied which seemed to ease his mind for the time being.

- He asked you out on a date late one morning, not too long after the two of you had that conversation. You should have seen how nervous he was, clutching a handful of flowers and fumbling with his clothing as he knocked on your door.

- He told you that he knew he was just a Scarecrow but that he liked you a lot and would like to give your relationship a try “if that was alright with you”.

- A scarecrow falling in love with a girl was surely a preposterous idea, but not as preposterous as a girl falling in love with a scarecrow which is exactly what had happened to you. All you could tell the straw man was that you “would love to” as you beamed up at him.

- You had a picnic for your first date though it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. You had to try several different places before you found one that was perfect, but you choose to forget the giggling munchkins and violent mocking apple trees.

- You had your first real kiss about a week later. Before then, you’d kissed his cheek a few times but that was about it.

- The two of you were in the cornfields, you’d been teaching him “how to frighten things” when he finally managed to “scare away” his first crow. Both of you were laughing happily when he looked over at you, quickly leaning forward and pecking you on the lips.

- While the action shocked you, you couldn’t help but smile, leaning forward and giving him a soft kiss in return. In that moment, your feelings were solidified and you couldn’t deny that you truly were in love with each other.

- He’s a very; innocently, affectionate person so expect him to always be close and/or touching you.

- Lots of hugs. It’s hard not to hug him when he’s so squishy.

- Soft, gentle kisses.

- Handholding. He finds it fascinating, mainly because your hands are so warm and soft while his are just a pair of gloves stuffed with straw.

- Locking elbows.

- Cheek kisses.

- Kissing his nose. How can you refuse something so inviting?

- Pecks on the lips. Sometimes he just pulls this face that all but forces you to do so.

- While he does like nicknames, he’ll usually just call you by your normal name. When he does call you by a pet name, it’s usually something like darling, sweetheart, and occasionally birdie.

- The two of you cuddle with your head on his chest and his arms wrapped around you. He’s pretty much a walking pillow so it’s incredibly easy to snuggle with him.

- He likes being helpful so don’t hesitate to ask him when you need some assistance; though he’ll usually offer it up on his own accord.

- He’s willing to go along with pretty much anything you’d like to do. He doesn’t manage nothing and he doesn’t mind anything either; he just likes to be with you.

- Clumsy boy. Don’t trust him with anything delicate and be prepared to try and catch him if, or rather when, he falls.

- Helping to keep him steady. You’ll have to hold him up at times, usually by wrapping his arm around your waist or shoulders when you’re walking together.

- Getting songs sung to and about you.

- Believe me, he’s clever, even if he thinks he isn’t. He gets all bashful whenever you tell him so.

- Helping him make up his mind. He thinks you’re incredibly smart.

- Visiting the tin man and cowardly lion. They grow to be very good friends of yours.

- Can we all just agree that he has a pet crow. Can we please just make that a fact. I need that in my life.

- Helping him pick up and stuff himself full of his fallen straw.

- Making faces at each other.

- He never is able to scare you, even if he thinks he’d like to. He’s just too sweet and lovable to scare anyone, especially the person who loves him the most. You reassure him that he can be frightening when he wants to be; though it’s a lie.

- He loves hearing about your world. I mean, Scarecrow hardly even knows about Oz, let alone a place that doesn’t exist where he comes from.

- Compliments. He can’t help but tell you how well he thought you did or how wonderful you look in your dress.

- Well, you’ll always know where to find him: the cornfields. He’s always jumping and excitedly greeting you whenever you come to visit.

- He loves resting his head in your lap.

- Dancing with each other.

- Picnics.

- Making flower crowns.

- Taking walks together.

- He’s honestly the easiest boyfriend you’ll ever have. He doesn’t eat, he doesn’t sleep, and he’s never any trouble.

- He knows his way around Oz and it’s many interesting creatures so he’s always got a solution when you have a problem. He always shrugs it off and tells you not to mention it when you thank him.

- You aren’t exactly sure how he “works” and how he’s alive but you sure are glad that he is. He; in turn, is fascinated by your warmth, heartbeat and breathing; i.e. everything that shows that you’re alive.

- He’s always the first one to try and comfort you when you seem upset.

- He doesn’t really get jealous; he’s too sweet and kind. He might get a little grumpy and/or insecure but he doesn’t get angry; especially not with you. You can always tell that he’s “jealous” because he’ll linger at your side and get more touchy.

- He has a habit of speaking in your defense, even when there’s really no need. He just doesn’t want to see you get cheated out of anything.

- He’s not a very scary individual; much to his displeasure, but he isn’t afraid of anything besides a lighted match so he’s almost always willing to stand up for and protect you.

- He can get sorta spiteful every now and again; though not very often. Whenever he gets like this, he’ll try his best to give you the silent treatment. The thing is, he always winds up failing because he just can’t help but say something to you when you say something to him.

“Well, you know what!”

- He’s always fairly quick to apologize when he’s upset you or is otherwise in the wrong. He might not have a brain but he certainly isnt stupid and he’s able to recognize when he’s messed up. He can be very forgiving as well so don’t be afraid to try and apologize when you’ve messed up.

- Lots of sweet and chipper I love you’s.

- Living over the rainbow with a scarecrow that loves you to death. How could life get any better.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Rarepair week, george&paul? Angst/comfort maybe? Let it be era? Hurt my soul :)

a/n: you’ve got it babe! i actually did some research for the flashback scene so it’s pretty accurate to reality, according to Ringo’s and some crew member's accounts.

Don’t Let Me Down

For as cold as it had been for the last month, the sun was shining high in the sky. A peculiar sight that brought a hint of warmth to Paul’s face but did not extend further than that. He could be in a summer's day desert and still feel the cold churn in his stomach. Looming tall and strong over him was the Abbey Road studio. The uncharacteristic beams of sunlight lit the many windows with a yellow glint. A million-eyed monster ready to tear him to shreds if he dared step closer. And he did dare. He peeled himself off his car and stiffened instantly. He’d been leaning against the passengers' door so long that when the wind hit his back it sent a shiver right through him. Or maybe it was solely his nerves. Either way, he didn’t plan to dwell on it.

A few Scruffs were waiting outside with paper coffee cups in hand and drink carriers stacked against the wall. So George was in. He had really come back. The cold churn rose to his chest. At this rate, he’d be a human popsicle by lunch.

There was a disjointed chorus of “Hi Paul” and “Good Morning” which he replied to with a courteous wave. He’d been largely turned off by the Apple Scruffs for some time now but there wasn’t really any malice. Having your house broken into was more than a bit off-putting, though. So he felt justified. George was the most tolerant of them, buying them coffees and breakfast foods every so often. They must have missed him while he was gone. Yeah. Surely they did. Because I did. Paul pushed the sentiment to the wayside. They still had an album to make. They still had songs to record and a documentary to be part of. He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him again. That had only led to an explosion.

Preparing himself with a stiffened posture and pushed back shoulders, he walked into the studio with a smile. It was almost painful to keep up but the cameraman was already in his face and he refused to let on to his nerves. He needed some inkling of control here and there was so little of that to grab hold of these days.

When he walked into the recording room, he found people scattered across the room but he didn’t find John or Ringo. It was still early in the morning so it made sense but he was undoubtedly rattled by the realization, becoming more rattled when he noticed George looking at him. Paul didn’t dare meet his eyes, drifting down to his feet. He looked soft, despite his sharp features. Cozy in his furry boots and warm jumper. He missed looking at that face and touching that body and kissing those lips. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he’d been able to do any of that. Too long.

George gave a thin-lipped smile before turning to Billy Preston at the piano. Was that a good sign or was this small sign of grace feigned for the cameras?

Whatever it meant, it drove Paul mad. He didn’t think he deserved forgiveness but he sure as hell would take it. There was no helping the intrusive memories of the aftermath of George walking out. He had done it so nonchalantly that no one was sure he had actually left until they got to the recording room and found him and his guitar missing.

Something had shifted in the room as soon as the three remaining Beatles looked at each other. John was breathing heavily with an icy glare. There was a glint in his eye that screamed danger. It was focused on Paul. Picking up the bass with a death grip on the neck, Paul just stared John down. There was a mutual understanding in the moment. The rage in both of them was bubbling over more and more by the second.

John yanked his guitar from the rack and they both plugged into the amps. No one seemed to remember the camera crew was still around. They just turned to Ringo, who was already at his drums, drumsticks in one hand, rubbing his eyes with the other. He was pushing so hard it had to hurt. And that was it. John squared up to the mic and began to scream the lyrics to a song they'd already wrapped up but they all threw themselves into it without question. Screaming, banging, and heavy riffs filled the studio. Nothing made sense and every fiber of Paul’s being hurt so much that he didn’t care. He wasn’t alone in the feeling, at least. They all felt some level of hurt.

Ringo was even mad- at the situation or at George or at Paul, it didn’t matter. He banged and slammed away like never before. It sounded so wrong coming from him but at the moment it was the only right thing to do. They sounded perfectly horrible. There was a distinct addition to the vocals and Paul turned to find Yoko sitting on George’s little blue stool, wailing along with John’s screams. Yes. Perfectly horrible.

When the song was up the energy was still poisonous and thick in the air. They weren’t done, not by far. Paul stepped up to the mic and John did not move away. With little notion of what he was doing, he went at the lyrics of another song. The words spat from his tongue with vitriol and fire.

They all needed to scream. Ringo was at the mic at some point, coming up with random words on the spot. Really just to have something to yell about. 

When they finished, panting out the last seething breaths, Paul felt empty. 

“Way to fucking go,” John yelled, eyes fixed on Paul. “Way to go.” his voice was drastically quieter, more tired and sad and hoarse, eyes drifting to his feet.

Paul’s bass suddenly felt a thousand pound heavier, pulling the strap down against his shoulder painfully. Maybe it was more the weight of his mistakes than the bass. Everything felt painstaking and dreadful for the rest of the day. The anger was gone and the screaming was done. There was nothing else to keep his mind from wandering into a wall of depression.

In the present, sans John and Ringo, he shyly grabbed an acoustic guitar and went to sit in a corner. He worked on one of his own songs, quietly strumming and murmuring. He didn’t like it yet, keeping it to himself. The awkward air in the studio only exemplified his need for privacy. So he stayed tucked away, only speaking when spoken to, like a good little schoolboy. George had even come over to ask about the song but Paul told him it wasn’t right just yet. There was no way he was about to embarrass himself on top of all this.

He went back and forth for most of the day. Playing several takes of various songs before turning back to his own song. There was a part on one of the songs that Paul found needed a quieter guitar part. The thought of addressing this issue to George was met with resistance. Was he really ready to address him? The guitar part could be addressed later, maybe. He could suggest another take tomorrow. But the song. It just wouldn’t be right. And maybe no one would be willing to do another take later. That struck a nerve in Paul that rang louder than the rest of his rationale. 

“Maybe,” Paul started, resolving to look directly at George for the first time since he walked in. “The guitar could be a bit quieter next take, y’know? Just sounds a bit heavy.” He tacked on quickly, glancing at Ringo, “The drums too.”

Ringo gave him a pained expression. Paul looked George dead on with a weak smile, though he could see John’s cautioning glare in his peripheral vision. George’s eyes were dark and apathetic. His jaw was set tight.

George Martin came over just when he was about to respond. Oblivious to the tension between them, he clapped a hand on John’s shoulder with a grin. “That was a great take, lads. Why don’t you take a lunch break with the film crew.”

“Wasn’t good enough for Paul,” George huffed, leaving first. “But what is?”

George Martin didn’t hear the remark and walked off to talk with Mal.

“You’re really going to cock it up already?”

“What!” Paul went quickly to his own defense. “It was a suggestion, is all. I’m not treating him with kid gloves just because we had a row.”

“A row? He left the bloody band.” 

“Not being a prick for one day isn’t kid gloves,” Ringo suddenly chimed in.

Paul gaped. “Caring about the songs is being a prick now, is it?”

John huffed an indigent laugh. “You’re painfully stupid.” He left with Ringo in tow before Paul could ask for any clarification. Not that he was sure he wanted any.

Stunned by the attacks, he stared blankly at George’s guitar. He had absolutely none of his friends at his side. He had managed to push them all away when all he wanted, so desperately, was to bring them together. They were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand and all he could seem to do was open his hands to quicken the fall. He’d lose them forever. It was all his fault. How long would it take? When would they figure out he wasn’t worth the trouble?

He just wanted them to be alright. He wanted to go back to how they were and just tour a bit. Play on stage like they all used to love. The band couldn’t rip apart. It just couldn’t because Paul would tear apart with it. And yet here they all were, at wit's end with one another. The connecting link to this free fall was Paul, of course. He had made Ritch leave and then George. It was all too obvious that John wanted out - surely Paul’s fault as well. 

He couldn’t imagine a world without Ringo, John, and George playing at his side. He didn’t want to. It was something new and terrifying that had no qualms with keeping him up at night, even when three glasses of scotch in. He couldn’t recall the last time he slept without drinking. Even still, nightmares filled his dreams and made sleeping seem worthless and just as tiresome as not sleeping at all. What a poor excuse of a man he was becoming.

With a tight chest and burning eyes, he got up. Thankfully, the film crew had truly gone to lunch. He was mostly alone with a few straggling technicians in the booth.

There was no way in hell he could go to lunch now. Not while it felt like the world was out to get him. Not while he felt on the verge of crying. Instead, he decided to go outside for a smoke. The cold winter wind cooled his hot skin. He fell against the wall with a thud and bit his lip. His eyes were pricked with tears but he wouldn’t let them fall. Not here. Not now. 

Dragging a hand down his face, he dove into his pocket and pulled out a spliff he’d rolled that morning for this very reason. His hand was caught on his chin as he eyed the thing. A beacon of hope.

He wasted no more time in lighting it. The earthy taste coated his tongue and warmed his throat. He relaxed on the exhale and repeated the process until his mind was a little numb. The carefree smoke floated high above before disappearing into the brisk wind. It would be so much easier to disappear with it.

“Stay gone too long and they’ll think you quit too.” 

Tension pulled at his neck and traveled down his body. With an involuntary jerk of his fingers, the spliff fell to the concrete. He didn’t look at the newcomer and didn’t need to. The calming drawl could only be from one person.

“So?”

Paul reluctantly turned his head to find George’s steady gaze on him. Words abandoned his brain. “So,” he asked stupidly.

George’s features suddenly dropped and Paul noticed there had been a hint of lightness seconds before. Great. Already cocking it up. 

“Oh, fuck you, then.”

“George! No, no!” He jumped forward and grabbed George’s wrist. “Please, love.”

There was hesitation in George’s step. He shook Paul’s hand off but did not leave. “Do you even care? Care that I left.”

His brow furrowed and his mind swirled back to life. “Of course. We were all-”

“I didn’t ask about the others. Did you care?”

It seemed like such an absurd question. There was nothing to suggest he didn’t. He was downright miserable. Was that not plain to see? Something inside him made him want to switch back on the defense. Deflect and reject. But he couldn’t let himself slip anymore. Everything was on the line now. His entire relationship was up to bat. He’d just be honest. And honesty wasn’t all that hard when your heart wrenched at the thought of this charade continuing for another second.

“Yes! I cared. I thought you’d never come back and I was terrified.” He was desperately searching George’s face for any recognition of belief. “You didn’t answer my calls for weeks and I thought you wanted nothing to do with me. If you don’t I can't even blame you at this point. Just tell me what I did wrong.”

There was no hint of emotion from George. He had a corked brow that could mean anything. The time passing with no answer couldn’t be good. Maybe he wouldn’t answer at all and just leave Paul standing here like an idiot.

“You want to know what you did wrong?” A look of contempt screwed up George’s features. “I don’t even know where I’d start.”

A weight crushed every bone in Paul’s body. He deserved this. He deserved the heartache and pain. The more it hurt the better George might feel. He just had to hold his asinine tongue. 

“You treat me like I couldn’t find writing talent if it bit me in the arse.” Paul tried to interrupt, despite himself, with an explanation. “Shut up and listen!” George moved closer, sizing Paul up. “When’s the last time you took any suggestion I’ve made seriously? You’ve been screaming from the damn rooftop about staying together and getting back to basics yet you sit in your little fucking corner like a punished child, ignoring us to work alone. What’s the point, then? Just to show how much of a pain you can be? You act like you don’t want me- any of us- near your songs and then boss us around on our own.”

George was pulling in unsteady breaths. He leaned forward slightly, really looking into Paul’s soul.

“You weren’t even the one to ask me back. Had Ritch do it for you, you coward.” George pushed him into the wall and Paul took it. “And you have the gall to ignore me! Even when I came to you like a stupid loyal puppy! That’s how you see me, isn’t it? Your little puppy that you get tired of when it makes too much noise. Well, fuck you and your damn songs. Fuck whatever you think you’re doing. You’re not keeping us together and you never could.”

Just punch me. The thought was screaming at the forefront and wouldn’t settle. Too angry with himself to stop, he yelled back, “Don’t you think I know? I see everyone slipping away and turning from me and all I can do is push you further! No matter what I try or how good I think I’m doing, you’ll just leave me out cold.” Caught up in it all, he shoved George back. “And you’re not a puppy! You’re my mate. You’re- I love you, alright.” 

His voice cracked and, god, he was crying. He was actually crying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Really just didn’t think you’d come back if I asked. And if that makes me a coward then sure. That’s what I am. If being a coward is what I need to have you near, fine.”

A muscle in George’s jaw tightened. He was stiff and his eyes were damp. His voice was so soft when he said, “Why didn’t you look at me? When you walked in you wouldn’t even really look at me. And when I tried to talk you just buried your head in your notebook.” He laughed mirthlessly. “But as soon as you have an issue with a song you go in with those big eyes of yours and I don’t want to hate you. It’s not fair.”

“You’ve said it, y’know. I’m a right coward. Scared to lose you if I speak and losing you just as fast when I don’t. Shouldn’t have turned you away. I shouldn’t have ignored you. The song- the stupid song. Don’t know if I even cared about how loud your guitar was. I just wanted to look at you, I think.”

“Looking at me now, aren’t you?”

And he was. They had been staring relentlessly and it felt good, no matter how much yelling they’d done. He wiped harshly at his cheeks to clear them of tears. “I’m sorry for being a prick.”

“Aye. You should be.” The words might have hurt if the corners of his mouth didn’t twitch up. He rubbed Paul’s shoulders and arms. “Just talk to me, okay? I won’t disappear, I promise.”

His smile was sad but genuine. All Paul could ask for. He nodded but then realized he already missed the point. “Okay,” he voiced. “Talking. Always been my strong suit.”

George’s smile grew and he pulled Paul into a hug. He hugged back fiercely, balling his hands up in George’s jumper.

“I don’t deserve this.” The words weren’t meant to leave his mind but they seemed to come of their own accord. 

George moved him back and Paul almost pulled them right back together. “What do you mean?”

Bringing a hand up to caress George’s cheek, he tilted his head. “I don’t deserve to have you. Don’t deserve to have this band. Wouldn’t you be better off without me? I’m just here to cock it all up.”

“You… really mean that, don’t you?” With a shaky breath, George brought him back into the hug and gently held Paul’s head to his shoulder, petting down his hair. “No matter what happens to the band, it’s not because you don't deserve to have it. It’d be because we all need space, alright?” He held Paul a little closer. “And you don’t get to decide if you deserve me. That’s my decision.”

Paul nestled into the crook of his neck, scared to ask but not willing to keep it back. “And you think I do?”

“No. No. I just fancy hugging people I hate.”

Paul smiled into his neck. “Arse.”

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Sweater Weather - A NeShiki Reunion Fic (Neo)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33691204

“Shiki!” Neku choked out, the moment she was done saying his name after they’d reunited at the Statue of Hachiko.

Then Neku was running to her, and wrapping his arms around his girlfriend before he could even blink.

And it had felt… good to be in sync with Shiki before—and for her to be able to tell he was there with them, when even Rhyme hadn’t known—but finally getting to hold her in his arms again like this, was even better.

And Neku had no doubt that he was grinning like a maniac now, as he kissed Shiki’s head, set her down after having spun her, and began talking excitedly to her. “I missed you, Stalker… I missed your warmth. And thanks for wearing white, to remind me of why I should have missed that with you.”

Shiki laughed at that, and poked Neku in the chin once for his strange comment… and weirdly enough, he wouldn’t have had it any other way. “Oh, Neku. You’re so odd. Comparing my white shirt with the hottest fire being white—or clear, I guess—huh?... And thinking that I would be warm like that, since I choose to wear that color? You’re a genius. You always have been. But only you could make logical leaps like that. That being said… I’m so glad to have you home, too!”

And after Shiki had finished ribbing Neku—and he preferred it this way; this was how they’d been in their first week together, after all, even if now their banter was loving as opposed to angry now—she jumped into Neku’s arms once more and began crying once more.

And Neku… kind of hated himself for it. He figured that they were probably happy tears coming from Shiki, sure… but he despised that she had to cry for him at all, and he promised himself that he would find a way to keep this from ever happening again.

“Chic…” he started, reaching out to dry her eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

But Shiki silenced any more self-loathing words from Neku by kissing him… and it was magical.

And Neku felt a little soft in thinking that—because where was the guy who had used to be edgy?—but he couldn’t really think of another word describe this.

It was as magical as much as their strong sync rate had always been.

And kissing Shiki again—and so much expertly now, then when he’d tried this when he’d been young—was like coming home for Neku, like apple pies if he were American or whatever: kind of like some of the words they’d just exchanged to each other a little bit ago. “I’m home.” “Welcome home.”

Shiki pulled away from Neku, gasping for air, and Neku couldn’t help but to grin at her stupidly and whisper her name like he had when he’d first won the Game all those years ago. “Shiki…”

And Shiki laughed at his dumbfounded expression then, which was exactly what Neku had been hoping for since he didn’t want her to hurt anymore. And she stood on her tiptoes, so she could hook her arm between his and begin strolling away with him. “Goof! You don’t have to apologize for making me cry happy tears! And you don’t have to be sorry for things that were out of your control, that led to the salvation of Shibuya!

“…But if you’re that worried about it,” Shiki stated now, a hand to her lips, as they got closer to Justice Burger at this point, “how about we both agree never to make each other cry again? I know you were worried about my safety around the Plague Noise. And beat mentioned how you cried, somewhat, when illusion-me was erased, in that illusion Coc-”

And this time, it was Neku’s turn to cut Shiki off with a kiss. And it was largely because he wanted to do this—and feel her soft lips pressing against his again—rather than him not wanting others to hear that he could be emotional like Josh could be sometimes… or so he told himself.

But Shiki was no fool. Because she had her arms crossed over her chest, and seemed about to tell Neku she knew what was up, when they pulled away from each other again… this time because they were getting annoyed looks from people because of their PDA, but Neku couldn’t have cared less.

“Sounds good!” Neku interrupted whatever she was going to say.

And it really did. No more did Neku hear paws of wolf Noise chasing him… or the screams of people being Erased… or the depressed thoughts of those who had already lost everything. Instead, he just heard the steady hum of the city he adored and the voice of the girl he loved.

And Shiki must have read his mind, because now she was stepping towards Neku to kiss his forehead—and he wrapped his arms around her waist, to bring her even closer to him; he never wanted to let her go again—as she told him, “It does sound good, doesn’t it? No longer can you hear the not-too quiet dead, but rather the bustle of the living!”

“…Yeah,” Neku agreed, suddenly having the weird thought that this would be the perfect time for winter, sweaters, cuddling between them, and hot cocoa. “…And a future like that’s looking great… if you stay by my side.”

Author’s Note:  My second attempt at Neku and Shiki’s reunion. And it’s so fluffy I’m gonna die. LOL

[notyetneedcoffee]

Soul Seer, pt. 15

Loki Master List

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: just fluff!

Author’s Note: Takes place right after Avengers 1, with time travel elements and hints of Infinity Wars. Does NOT follow cannon after Avengers.

 Your fingers trailed along the steel frame of the wall of windows lining the walkway. Outside the sun gave the illusion of warmth, even though you knew it was cold. For the moment you aimlessly wondered, having free time before meeting with Steve and Natasha. You’d begun learning to fight a few months back.

Since staying at the Compound, Loki spent most of his days working with Banner, occasionally meeting over video conference in disguise with the other members of the worldwide team Stark put together to plan the energy migration. There was a lot of work to be done, and it needed to happen at human pace… or at least a Stark and Banner pace… because Loki was supposed to be dead.

A flash startled you from your musings. Out in the lawn now stood Thor, looking serious. His eyes moved quickly about, and when they landed on you a bright smile lit his face. Odd, you thought the windows were solid black from the outside.

Thor pointed to the end of the building. You knew a door led outside there, so you began to walk in that direction. His long strides allowed him to be inside and climbing the open stairs to the second floor. His booming voice echoed down the hall as soon as he saw you.

“Ah! Lady Y/N!” He smiled. “How fare you?”

“Well,” You accepted his warm hug. “I’m doing well here.”

“And my brother?”

“Way better than I ever would have thought.” Steve Rogers’ voice interjected from the stairs. “When did you get here?”

“Just now.” The two shared a back slapping greeting.

“Come on down,” Steve motioned to the elevator with a tilt of his head.

The three of you descended to the lower laboratories of the complex. You could see Bruce leaning against a work table, one arm wrapped around his middle and the other hand rubbing his forehead. Loki paced the room talking animatedly with his hands.

He wore your favorite dark green silk shirt. It always made you want to rub against him. You paused at the door, admiring his graceful strides. Bruce must have thought your hesitation was something else, because he waved you in and met you at the glass sliding door.

“We’re just on audio.” He spoke quietly.

Loki argued with someone on the line about power consumption. His voice, not his own, sounded higher and with a distinct eastern seaboard accent. “I can assure you, Mr. Archer, this solution is not a temporary one. The need for your power plants to run on fossils will be forever obsolete.”

“If you think we’re going to leave our shareholders hanging while…” The anger in the man’s voice was unmistakable.

“This guy just won’t buy in.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

Loki saw you and waved you closer. Your arms automatically slid around his waist as his right arm pulled you closer. His body language looked calm and relaxed. He felt calm and relaxed to you. However, his voice held an all to human tension when he spoke. “I don’t want to call in the Council, Mr. Archer.”

This set the man off again. Loki just grinned.

“I’ll be calling the Secretary of Energy and Senator Rowlins about this.”

“Please do.” Loki replied. “Let them explain it you. You need to remember we’re offering this five year transition period and incentive package so your shareholders won’t unduly suffer. But if you refuse to adapt your plant to the new technology obtained from the alien research, or some other form of renewable energy, you’ll just be forced out of the game.”

“Do not dictate to me, young man!”

“No, I’m just pointing out your choices. Adapt or die, that’s the way of things. You’re being offered good recompence and decent amount of time. The Council could just release this technology tomorrow. What would that do you shareholdings?” Loki grinned.

You absently rubbed you fingers over his silk clad stomach. He loved this, upsetting these people’s world order, causing chaos in their shelter selfish worlds. It fed his mischievous nature.

“You’ll be hear from our lawyers!”

“Can’t wait.” Loki touched a button, ending the call. He pressed his lips to your forehead. “Miss me, my pet?”

“Always.” You grinned.

Thor and Steve watched the two of you from the hall. Cap leaned a little closer, whispering. “I think he really likes making all these world industry leaders dance.”

“What is the Midgardian saying? He’s using his powers for good?” Thor whispered back.

Steve chuckled. “I s’pose.”

“I never thought I would see him so calm.” Thor mused.

“Oh, he gets in a rage, gets frustrated.” Steve buried his hands in his pockets. “But it blows over, and he keeps his word, and so long as she’s safe… that keeps him… balanced.”

Thor nodded, lifting a hand when Loki’s eyes turned to him. A frown crossed the darker brother’s face. He pulled away from you and walked out to the hall. You followed.

“Thor.”

“Brother.”

They stared at one another. Finally, you broke the silence. “What brings you around? Everything okay? Or is this just a social visit.”  

“Father asked me to come.” You felt Loki tense, but gave no indication as Thor continued. “Heimdall has been keeping his eyes on you and reporting on your activities.”

“If Heimdall is watching, then why send you?” He snapped.

“Loki.” You frowned, looking up at him. “Did you mean that to be as rude as it sounded?”

Thor’s brow arched in surprise. Steve bit his lip to hold back a grin, he learned chuckling at the way you corrected Loki was disastrous for everyone.

Loki looked down at your scowl and blew out air through his nose. “It’s old habits, I suppose.” He turned his eyes back to Thor, rewording his question. “So, what is it that Father wants?”

Though not an apology, the God of Thunder could scarcely believe his brother allowed you to admonish him, much less that he would heed your words. He knew the two of you shared a bond, knew that you’d touched each other’s minds. But, he could feel this was different.

“Perhaps we should discuss this in private.” Thor began to venture.

“You might as well spit it out, brother.” Loki rolled his eyes. “I’m not granted anything as privileged as privacy here.” Then he smirked. “Besides, there is no one in this company who would betray a trust.”

Thor crossed his arms and shrugged. “Father sent me, but it was a mother’s bidding.”

“What of mother?” Loki became instantly more in tune. You knew how he felt for her, knew how he missed her.

“She says something rare has occurred, says she can feel it in her magic.” Thor gave a lopsided grin. “Now that I’m here, I think she’s right.”

“What? Dammit, get to the point!”

“She says you’ve taken a mate.”

Loki’s mouth fell open. You and Steve looked at each other, confused. You never said in traditional words but no one doubted that you and Loki loved one another. So why was shock and confusion rolling through Loki’s mind.

“I don’t get it.” Banner looked between Thor and Loki.

“Our kind, our people, love and marry. It’s not unheard of, though they are not always monogamous. Even then there are exceptions, like our parents are now. But even early on, father was known to wander and mother had…”

“Don’t say that cretin’s name.” Loki scowled.

“But a mate,” Thor continued. “A pair that is tied together for the centuries of our lifetimes, is a rare thing. It is more common with the Alfheim, but it occurs with every race upon Yggdrasil. I don’t know if it was the touching of your minds, or if that was just a catalyst to what was destined to be, but I agree with mother. It’s true.”

A mixture of awe and elation filled you, only to be drowned in a crashing wave of sorrow and desperation. Your hand reached for Loki’s, and he gripped your fingers tightly. Tears filled your eyes as you tried to bite back a sob.

Steve said your name quietly, seeing the change.

You looked to him, tears falling silently. “I don’t have centuries. In what will seem like a blink of an eye, I will grow old and die and there’s nothing Loki can do to stop it.”

Cap’s face fell. He knew that heartache and would not wish it upon anyone, ever.

Thor’s strong hand gripped Loki’s shoulder. His other gently touched your cheek. “Do not do this. Do not mourn for what has not happen yet. Live joyously right now. I will tell Mother what I’ve seen. She will not allow such a tragedy to pass, especially when it’s within Father’s ability to prevent it.”

Loki gave him a sad smile. “I am sentenced to a century for my crimes. He’s not going to grant me an Apple with less than one in a hundred years served.”

“Mother is persuasive, you know better than most.” Thor beamed. “It may take a year, or five, or ten, but Mother and I will make Odin see what needs to be done.” Thor turned to you. “You understand of what we speak?”

The Apple of Immortality. You knew. Trying to weed through the bad memories of all the times Odin hurt and disappointed Loki, you searched for all the times Frigga’s influence worked upon their Father. Little concessions for the children to serious matters of state, she did hold sway over her husband. Suddenly you realized she held so much influence, that she used it sparingly as to not abuse it.

It might be okay after all.

You nodded slowly. “You mother is a formidable woman, kind, and she loves you both. Alright,” You smiled up at Loki, wiping your tears away. “There’s no point in wasting energy on worrying. You’re right, we live for today. But, Thor, we’re placing our trust in you.”

His big arms pulled you close, despite Loki’s growl, and he dropped a kiss into your hair. “I will not fail you, little sister. Mother is going to adore you.”

“Stop manhandling her,” Loki grumbled. “She is mine.”

You giggled, slipping from Thor’s bear hug and into Loki’s arms.

“How long are you staying?” Steve asked, not one hundred percent sure of the agreement, but satisfied that you were all happy.

“You need to tell her right way.” Loki answered at the same time Thor boomed “There is time to feast and celebrate!”

You squeezed Loki a little tighter. “We can wait a night. Maybe Thor will get you drunk and I’ll get to take advantage of you for a change.”

Loki’s eyes grew wide before he laughed heartily.

Yeah, you sighed, things were going to be alright.  

TAGS:

@1800-fight-me,  @abschaffer2 , @alexakeyloveloki , @archy3001 , @asgardianthot , @asiaaisa77 , @badassbaker , @bangtan-serendipity , @beautifullungs , @buchanansebba , @buckybarneshairpullingkink , @buckybarnesplumwhore , @buckybarnesplumwhore , @daughterofthenight117 , @dawnlaufeyson , @dsakita , @everything-is-awesomesauce , @fangasm202 , @geeksareunique , @girlmadeofivory , @girlmadeofivory , @imma-new-soul , @jesseswartzwelder , @jillilama-blog , @kalesrebellion , @kermittheshipper , @kiki5283 , @kneel-before-queen-loki , @lbouvet , @lovely-lollipops-blog , @messenough , @michelehansel , @mindtravelsx , @morganhoran1671 , @myownviperroom , @night-cereus , @notyourtypicalrose , @osric-the-l3m0n-l0v3-demon , @person-born-winchester , @rainbowkisses31 , @readermia , @rinthehufflepuff , @rogerrhqpsody , @rynabarnesrogers-reading , @sammghgecko , @scarlettsoldier , @sebbysstangirl , @sex-cee-seabasss , @sexyvixen7, @smokeandnailz , @tahiri-veyla , @theladybiers , @theneuropsychwriter , @the-omni-princess , @the-reading-octopus , @thorfanficwriter , @ultracolorfulnerdcollection , @ultrarebelheart , @unadulteratedwizardlove , @vanillabunn21 , @vintageroses1014516 , @vodka-and-some-sass , @wwe-fanfiction-queen , @neverending-space , @saiyanprincessswanie , @a–1–1–3​ , @peter-pan-hoe​

[bbugyu]

a dragon's kingdom

he never wanted to stop learning about you, and you never knew how much you needed him by your side.

part one | part two

wc.5009 | smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, royal au, princess!reader and knight!cheol, penelope is the best character, sex constantly, it's called the honeymoon stage, unprotected sex, lots of it, lk impreg kink?, confessions mid-coitus, oops she pukes (not during sex oh my god), food consumption, mentions of death & mental instability, lots of crying

why do i care so much about lore and names and backstory and motivation. anyways i've created an entire world if you wanna know about literally any person that is offhandedly mentioned in this fic i can give u their origin story, including he horses. this part is really story heavy but also pretty sex heavy so have fun!!! also im in love with seungcheol but what's new.

*

"this feels strange."

you hummed, pulling out a pair of pants from a drawer and holding it up to seungcheol. "what do you mean? wearing someone else's clothes?"

he shook his head no, looking around the bedroom you had brought him to with the promise of clean pants. you had gone through all the rooms, you told him, as you led him through the castle wearing a light tunic tucked into a pair of trousers. you'd collected the clothes you liked, that fit you, and brought them to the tower, but there was plenty that didn't fit your criteria, and you were pretty sure he would fit into the clothes in the third bedroom to the left of the kitchen, past the main dining hall, a room you had discovered to be a counselmen's quarters. "you've been gone for so long, but i was at the kingdom only yesterday."

you looked to him, folding the pants over your arm. "what's it like now?"

a wash of realization caught seungcheol off guard. "my god, you've missed so much."

he changed, insisting you looked the opposite direction despite the fact that you had already seen all of him only hours earlier, and you fiddled your fingers and joked about peeking, but only stole a glance when you heard him buckling a belt that had also been found in the room. you exited the couselmen's room and he helped you onto his horse, leading her down the hall in the direction you told him. you patted down calliope's black mane as she walked alongside seungcheol, listening to him describe the castle ground and all the changes that had been made in the last decade.

"the statue, in the fountain?" you nodded when he looked at you. "it's all three of you now. they added you and the queen probably six months after your disappearance."

"that doesn't sound like father."

seungcheol paused, looking up at you. "i didn't know the king personally until only a few years ago, but he's not the ruthless leader you knew him as any more. your loss changed him."

you should have been more interested in your own father, but you couldn't help the way your mind wandered to fond memories of the flowers and gardens. "are there still lilies?"

"yes, of course," he said. "one of the back gardens was planted in your honor, right by the gates. i've never seen so many colors of lilies in my life."

you were quiet for almost too long, and seungcheol looked to you, immediately noticing the tears welling up in your eyes. "does mother go there often?"

"hey, hey hey," he instantly mounted his horse behind you, wrapping his arms around you and kissing your shoulder gently. "yes. every day."

you inhaled sharply, blinking your eyes rapidly to quell the tears. "she used to love roses," you started.

"she still does," he confirmed, and you didn't even realize that you had mourned for her as though she were dead.

"there's a garden here," you continued, wiping at your eyes and rubbing the moisture away on the pants you wore, seungcheol's hands resting on your stomach as he listened to you. "it was almost dead when i found it, but i take care of the roses there. i'll show it to you later."

seungcheol nodded and pressed a kiss to your cheek, making you smile vaguely. 

"there's a stable, also," you said, sniffing your nose. "you might recognize the horses. i suppose we should bring them back with us, as well."

he faltered. "from past missions?"

"only three," you clarified, gently nudging his steed around a corner towards the kitchens. "most of them ran to the fields, but three have stayed. i've named them. one had letters carved into its armor plate, but it was damaged - i could only read valerie."

"valkyrie," seungcheol said immediately. "tan colored horse, correct? with a white diamond on her head."

you turned in his grip. "yes, exactly!"

his stomach felt heavy suddenly. "she was captain varian's steed. he trained me for years, his mission was last fall."

"i'm sorry," you said, lacing your fingers with his on your lap as you recognized his loss. you thought of a year ago, when you had found the horse. you did your best to remember who had come at that time. "though it may not be consolation, i believe he was the one penelope ran from the grounds."

seungcheol's fingers tensed between yours. "she-"

"didn't kill him," you finished. "he was a good man."

he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding in relief, his forehead landing on your shoulder. "he was."

"i wasn't sure the horse was his, though i kept it in case he returned. the forests around here are deadly, but there's a village nearby, so i had hope..." you pursed your lips, thinking of how blasé you had always been about the men that failed to save you, not thinking at the time of the people they knew before they came. "i should have done more."

"you did what you could have," seungcheol reassured, his lips on your shoulder as he curled his arms tighter around you. "thank you for telling me."

you relished in the feeling of his arms around you, sighing as you let your head fall back against his shoulder. "i didn't realize how much i missed human contact."

you felt his breath on your neck when he let out a short chuckle. "i've never had it like this."

"neither have i," you said, adjusting to look him in the eye. he was only a breath away, his lips, his jaw, his neck. he had only arrived that morning, but your attachment to him could never get greater than it was now. you wondered if you glowed like he did in this moment - radiating gold in the streams of light from the afternoon sun. "i like it a lot."

a dimple showed itself on his cheek, and you smiled back at it. he kissed you gently, and your shoulders raised at the goosebumps it gave you. "i do, too," he said, running his lips across your cheek and down your neck.

"seungcheol," you sighed. "we just took a bath."

"and you smell divine," he said, smiling against your skin. you laughed at him, mostly because of his near flat out refusal to bathe with you earlier. 

"i've drawn a bath," you had said, wearing only a satin robe as you returned to the main room. "i'd be happy if you joined me."

seungcheol was laid out on your bed, blanket covering as little as it had to, an arm laid over his face as he did his best to recover his soul after you had pulled it straight out of him twice. "go ahead," he replied, fearful of what seeing your form again would do to him. "i'll make sure no one bothers you."

you laughed, crawling onto your thick mattress to bother him a bit more. "my knight in shining armor, making sure none of the inhabitants of this abandoned castle bother me while i bathe."

"anything for my princess," he said, rolling his head towards where you laid, prodding at his chest.

"anything?"

he saw the mischief in your eyes, and god, he hated how easily he fell under your intoxicating spell. but he only hated it for a moment, before you led him into your candle-lit washroom, the flames glinting off the glistening tiles of your tub and a view of the surrounding forest through sheer curtains. all he could do was sigh in resignation as you held his hand, letting the robe fall off your shoulders.

during that bath, your name sounded like a song coming from his lips, and it fell upon your blushed ears in the most delightful way. you had never even imagined what the first time hearing your name in someone else's voice in eight years would be like, but you couldn't stop replaying that moment in your mind.

"there should be apples in a basket right inside the door of the pantry," you said, pointing to a door as you lit the candles in the kitchen. seungcheol went to the door you gestured to and grabbed a few of the red fruit, biting into one. you walked over to the window and drew the curtains, letting the sun in. you usually left them open, but the rain in the evening before made you even sadder than you had already been this week. now, opening them back up, it felt like a fresh beginning. 

"i have eggs," you said, tapping your cheek, realizing you truly didn't know how to entertain guests. "lots of fruit and vegetables. there's a whole field of potatoes."

seungcheol smiled as he approached you. "whatever you want, i'm not picky. i am going to give calli some apples, though."

you nodded and smiled when he planted a kiss on your cheek, then took another bite of the apple. you watched him trot up the steps to the hall where his horse waited, and you looked around briefly before deciding to wash rice and stoke a fire.

you didn't know how to cook before you came here. you still didn't, really, just the bits of things you remembered watching the cooks in the kitchen when you and your best friend were hiding from your fathers, but it had been enough for you to learn, alone, with only a young dragon as a mentor. meat scared you still - you tried to slaughter a chicken as a seventeen year old and you were so scared of undercooking it that you had roasted it dry - but you had learned how to work with everything that popped up in the plotted fields behind the castle. with the addition of horses, you had been able to take spare jewelry you found to the village and trade for some things you needed - hay and oats, mostly, to care for them - and some things you missed, like rice and cheese. you grunted lightly as you set the heavy cast iron bowl of rice and water over a stovetop, settling the wood lid on it as seungcheol returned.

"how can i help?"

you stared at him for a moment. "you want to help?"

his eyebrows raised. "yes?"

"sorry," you said suddenly, shaking your head as you squeezed your eyes shut. "this is still weird."

he laughed, leaning against the stone wall. "take your time, princess."

"how are your knife skills?"

he pouted and shrugged. "i manage."

you laughed, walking to the pantry to retrieve some vegetables. "do you like squash? they grew like crazy this year."

you checked the rice periodically as it boiled, and you stir fried the vegetables that seungcheol chopped for you. you found another rice bowl - you had never needed more than one - and filled both with rice before frying two eggs.

"i can't believe you've been alone all this time," he said later, pulling a spoon from his mouth. "how did you learn to do all this?"

you told him about your afternoons spent in the kitchen as a child, being more of a nuisance than anything. he laughed when you told him that you had tipped over a pot of stew into the fire below, extinguishing it and creating a thick paste as the stew mixed with ash. you had gotten banished from the kitchen for a year only a few months before you were taken, but you supposed you had picked up some translatable skills during your other visits. 

he asked you about your captor, the mad king that had instilled fear in your kingdom's people with your kidnapping. you told him that king edgar was driven to madness by a cruel curse, and you met his true self only after you had arrived to his kingdom - the kingdom whose people abandoned it in fear of the dragon - where he broke down and clutched you. you reminded him of his own daughter, he had said, a beautiful princess by the name of penelope. he said he never knew what came of her, but you knew she was the one that had been cursed.

"the dragon," seungcheol started, his breath catching. no wonder you shared such a close connection with her.

you nodded. "he thought he was crazy for hearing her voice in his head. she was trying to tell him the whole time."

you were quiet when you told him that the late king's madness is what killed him, only a year after you had arrived.

it was his idea to send calliope back to the kingdom with a letter. he was positive she would make it on her own - she had made the trip several times, despite the king forbidding seungcheol from attempting to save you until now. "scouting missions," he explained when you raised an eyebrow at him, his tone unconvincing. he understood why you wished to stay, and he really could not deny the allure of living in a private castle with you for a little while, but he worried that his delayed return would make everyone assume the worst.

"i could write a letter," he said, to tell them what had happened and that you needed time to wrap some things up here, gather the things that should come back with you. "or you could, my princess, if you're hoping for a more dramatic return."

you were laying in the grass, watching the sun reflect orange against the clouds as it began to set over the horizon, using seungcheol as a pillow. you hummed, rolling to lay on your stomach and plucking a blade of grass to inspect. he watched you, and tucked your hair behind your ear as you thought. "you should write it, i think. they might come to collect us if i do. should we send her off in the morning?"

he nodded at you, his hand still on your cheek. you leaned your head into it, craving the way he held you suddenly.

there were countless days where you had lain similar to where you were now, in the grass clearing surrounded by red rose bushes, the earliest times spent sobbing until your throat was sore and your eyes swollen while you came to terms with being truly alone here. now, though, you laid with your savior and lover, and his presence alone changed the atmosphere. suddenly, these roses that were a source of painful memory for you had an air of romance to them.

"should i tell them?" you wondered aloud. "that i chose to stay all these years?"

seungcheol's thumb glided across your cheek bone. "do you think they would understand?"

your eyebrows crinkled. "you know them better than me, now," you said, ripping the grass in your fingers to pieces. "i know mother would, but i'm not sure about father."

"i think he would," he said quietly. your eyes met his. "heartbreak breeds empathy. i'm sure he would even forgive king edgar if you told him his story."

you considered that for a moment. "maybe i should write the letter, then."

with calliope in the stables, penelope flew the two of you back to the tower for the evening so that you could figure out what all to write, but it was back in that garden the next evening, laying in that same spot, where seungcheol's fingers dug into your waist as you rode him, the sky painted pink and purple behind you. your hips rolled on his, your blouse unbuttoned too low and your pants discarded somewhere they shouldn't be, and you watched his neck stretch against the green grass, a bruise from your biting the previous day showing itself directly over a bulging vein. he filled you in a way that felt new every time, and you sighed, your hands against his bare chest pushing yourself up off him, only to sink down again repeatedly.

his hands tensed on you as he groaned, trying his best to hold out for your second release, but you were making it incredibly difficult for him. you leaned back, palms on his thighs as you lifted yourself off him, and you would never forget the erotic noise that fell from his lips as you seated yourself deeply.

"princess," he groaned, his hands hungrily running down your thighs. "i won't last much longer like this."

the title read more as a pet name, and you couldn't help but clench at the need in his voice, making him choke. "god, me neither."

"please," he gasped out, eyes pleading. "please, can i-"

you nodded desperately, and it took him only seconds to sit up, crossing his legs behind you, cradling you in his arms as he rolled his hips up into you. your jaw dropped in a silent moan, and it took a moment for your vocal chords to catch up, but it wasn't long before you were making all sorts of embarrassing noises for him.

"baby," he panted, his lips pausing their work against your throat. "oh, god, i'm gonna cum."

"yes," you begged. "please. please, seungcheol."

he groaned into your neck, and you whined as you felt him shoot into you, spurring your own orgasm. your throbbing walls milked him dry, and the two of you were panting as you came down, clutching each other in a garden.

you were grateful that he didn't comment on the way you practically waddled the rest of the evening, but you never noticed the proud look on his face whenever he watched you. he did that to you, he thought. and you wanted him to do it to you again and again and again.

each morning, when seungcheol woke with your bare form draped over his side, he felt like the luckiest man on the planet, and you couldn't help but smile when you woke to his quiet and gentle ministrations against your neck, his hands warm against your skin as he pulled you closer to him.

"my darling," he muttered against your throat, adoring the way you felt in his arms, and his honey coated voice made you drunk with desire despite the sleep in your eyes. "when will i ever get enough of you?"

you giggled as you reached for him, making him moan when your hand made contact with his member. "perhaps we'll slow down in a year."

seungcheol thought that sounded okay, but when you wrapped your warm mouth around him, it suddenly sounded too soon.

there was clothing you would miss too much, you told him. the tunics you wore as comfort for years, the most beautiful dress you had ever seen, and god, the trousers. you had never been allowed to wear them before, but the convenience of fewer, less cumbersome layers proved itself again and again, especially now that you had a reason to undress more often.

"i think you look beautiful," he announced matter of factly, seated in the floor only two feet away from you, when you said offhandedly that the dresses probably suited you more. "now and always."

you smiled at him as you folded the clothing into saddlebags. "you're not so bad to look at either," you said, letting him lean over the pile of clothing to kiss you.

the more seungcheol told you about the kingdom, the more you itched to return. you missed the trees and parks surrounding the castle grounds, the cobblestone streets that you would secretly wander down, and you especially missed the way people would smile at you and ask if you were away from the castle alone.

"of course," you would reply, exchanging coin for a snack of bread despite the baker's insistence that you take it for free. "do you think the guards would have let me if they knew?"

the people were your main reason to return. you thought of the citizens that you hadn't seen in so long. you wondered how the children you remembered coming into the world had grown up. you wondered how the shops managed. you asked seungcheol about some, the ones you could remember, and he happily told you the bakery a few blocks away from the back garden gates of the castle was doing well.

you missed your family. with the promise of seeing them soon, your heart ached, even if you had felt spiteful towards them in your youth. you would never agree with everything they did - thus was the nature of an ever evolving world - but you couldn't help but remember the times they had laughed with you. while they had expectations for you, they still cared for you. they still raised you. they still loved you unconditionally.

you missed everyone you saw every day, all the other inhabitants of the castle. your cousin, whose parents died in war when he was only a child, but always had a devil may care attitude anyways. the cooks and help you bothered, but always laughed at your antics. your handmaiden, who had always kept a close eye on you, even if she never told the king about your secret excursions. you thought of your father's right hand man and closest friend, advisor kim. you thought of his son, whom you had been raised with in the castle. he had always been your best friend, your beacon of common sense, and your slightly reluctant partner in crime. you spent much of your long years away daydreaming about his laugh and hugs.

"mingyu," you said, trailing off slightly. you were sitting in the shade of a tree, watching seungcheol throw knives at a target. "is he well?"

"advisor kim?" he adjusted his posture, grunting slightly as he put a telling amount of force behind his throw. "as well as he can be, i suppose. we don't speak much."

"not advisor kim," you said, brows furrowed. "his son. he's around our age."

seungcheol looked to you, his eyes softening. "oh, princess, i'm so sorry." he paused as he kneeled before you, putting a hand to your cheek. "mingyu's father passed six years ago. he's been the king's advisor ever since."

he held you as you sobbed against him, mourning the man you had referred to as your uncle for most of your childhood, and your heart shattered as you thought of all the loss mingyu had endured.

he was smart, and it made sense to you that the king asked him to succeed his father, though you thought it a little cruel. mingyu had always been the most well read person you knew, and was the reason you had decided to make a mission of reading every book in your stone prison. he always had excitedly told you about the latest novel he'd read, or what he had learned in the political journal he'd snuck from his father's office, eyes shining and baring the wolf-like grin you adored. you never understood it back then, but now, having reread most of the books you had access to, you couldn't wait to get your hands on anything he would recommend to you when you could ask him in only a few short days.

you asked that you spend an afternoon with penelope, and seungcheol respected your time with her, despite the boredom that itched at his legs while he sat in your tower alone. he counted your paintings for the umpteenth, wondering how had you done this for so long. he decided he would go check on the horses.

you asked penelope if she truly wished to stay. "we could find someone to help you," you said. "i'm sure father has someone that can reverse the spell."

sweet princess, her warm voice rang in your ears despite her never opening her mouth. i've no family, no subjects, and no sense of humanity. 

you chewed on your cheek, knowing your wet eyes gave you away. "you have me."

she chirped, nuzzling her nose against your arm. and for your companionship all these years, i am grateful. but punishing the wicked is my duty, i have accepted my fate and so should you.

"i accept it," you said, wiping at your face with the sleeves of your dress. "but i'll remain unhappy with it."

penelope's sweet giggle was your favorite thing to hear in your mind, for you could almost imagine the woman that it once belonged to. do visit sometime. though i'd prefer if you left the knight at home.

you laughed despite the tears streaming down your face, and your hand ran over her snout. "you would like mingyu more, anyways."

there were three horses to bring back with you, but only two riders. due to this fact alone, seungcheol told you it would likely take a full day to return to the kingdom.

"maybe longer," he thought aloud, his wandering eyes finding yours as you leaned against a post in the stable. "we might have to camp a night."

"leave in the morning, arrive the next?" he nodded at your question. "that's not awful. it's hard to believe that i've been this close to you this whole time."

seungcheol agreed with you, wishing that he had gone against the king's orders and found you sooner, especially when your fingers fiddled with the collar of his shirt. "if only i had known how close i was to bliss, i would have been by your side for years."

you sighed, content, and wrapped your arms around his torso, your cheek landing on his firm chest as he leaned into you.

the first time the phrase i love you came from him, he was curled over you in your bed. your hands were digging into his hair, his lips were slotted over yours, and you were trying your best to ignore the stinging in your eyes as he pushed into you again, the words hushed against your mouth.

you looked up at him, shellshocked, but he never took your silence as judgement. "i love you," he repeated. "more than i've ever loved another person."

a moan was forced from you with a combination of his words and his movements, and it jump-started your confession. "i love you, too, my knight."

his forehead rest against yours, slick with sweat, as he slowly drove himself into you. your thighs ached, partly from the repeated trips up and down the stairs as you packed, but mostly from the way he gripped the backs of them, pushing them until your knees were nearly at your shoulders. the angle let him too far into you, you thought. if anyone were to die from feeling too much pleasure, it would be you, in that moment, as seungcheol bit at your lower lip and muttered sweet nothings into your mouth.

after nearly a decade of ruling a lonely kingdom, you were so close to returning to the castle in which you were raised. you had set the chickens free from their coop, your horses were prepared for the journey, and your stomach ached at the thought. your nerves got the better of you as you emptied your stomach of its contents behind a tree.

"it's okay, my love," seungcheol said, his hands pulling your hair behind your shoulders and rubbing your back. "i'm right here."

"damn shame," you choked out, catching your breath. "i really enjoyed that breakfast."

he did his best to not laugh despite your joking tone. he stayed by your side as your head swam, and asked if the ride back should be delayed.

"no," you shook your head, accepting the water he handed you. "if we stay a day, i'll make excuses to stay forever. i'll be okay."

he recognized the defeat in your words. despite the weakened state you had woken up in, you were right. this place felt like paradise, and you never wanted it to end, but you had a kingdom waiting for you.

penelope watched over you both, laid out in the grass as you made your final preparations, and you wrapped your arms around her neck as you held back tears.

"i'll visit. i promise."

seungcheol wrung his fingers behind his back as he watched you speak with her quietly. he could never quite shake his fear of the majestic being (he had squeezed his eyes shut and clung to you whenever she had flown you two to the tower), and he had a feeling that she disliked him due to their first impression, but he knew you loved her like a sister. then, the dragon's deep firey eyes moved to meet his, her voice creeping into his mind for the first time, causing a chill to run up his spine.

protect her in my stead.

he put a hand over his heart and nodded, and when the dragon broke eye contact, he felt as though he finally understood her.

seungcheol kept a close eye on you as you rode river, a horse he couldn't remember the original name of, but that you named after the location at which you found him. he vaguely remembered the man that rode him before, but he was one that seungcheol had never liked much. every time you swayed slightly, he insisted on taking a break so you could lay down, but you waved him off, not wanting to delay your return any more than you already had.

"oh, dear seungcheol," you said, a smile on your lips. "you will be such an empathetic king one day. good thing i'll be there to make the hard decisions."

he couldn't argue - he never could. you were wise beyond your years and more observant than the people he debated against at home, most of which with whom his arguments ended in him threatening to fight. but with you, he always understood the deep thought and logic behind your words. you had a way of speaking that calmed conflict instead of fostering it, and for that reason alone, he thought you were destined to rule, and he would happy to be by your side as you did.

[extremelyblackandwhite]

the unseen one - 21

Pairing: Hades!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: guess who’s done with her second year of uni? that’s right, it’s me. get ready for me writing a lot more. 

hope you enjoy this chapter!!!

Next Chapter >>

James had decided to accompany her to the Elysium this time around. She kept telling him it was alright, that she was alright but he knew she was nervous about confronting Hecate. Why? He did not know and Y/N refused to acknowledge something was wrong but he knew better. It had become second nature to him to read her like one of his books like the way she would pull on her finger nail and bite the inside of her cheek whenever something embarrassed her or made her slightly anxious. It was also rather easy for James to guess that Hecate would be her normal intimidating self. She was a good goddess, a good worker too but unless you were in her grace, you’d probably go through a bad time. 

He took her hand in his as they climbed out of the ferry and onto the shores of the Elysium, her face immediately turning brighter. The Meadows were no place for mortal, specially for Y/N, specially for the girl who had beautiful flowers and other plants on every window pane and surface of her little flat. No, Y/N belonged in the Elysium. 

     - Stay here for a bit. - he warned as they reached the groves. Y/N would probably not accept him having the talk he was about to have with Hecate, besides, he did not enjoy to have her see the other side to him. The side that was the Lord of the Dead. 

Y/N stood outside the groves, wooden basket in hand and he walked into the groves, the familiar laugh of her maidens invading his thoughts. Hecate was sat by the pomegranate tree, keeping a watchful eye on them but quickly turned her head once she heard him get close.

    - I assume you’re here because of Y/N. - she slightly raised her head from the paperwork she was looking at. - I was starting to wonder when you were gonna show up after the little argument she put up.

   - Argument? - no, Y/N wouldn’t argue with Hecate. At least he couldn’t see her doing it. - That’s neither here or there, I asked you to make her feel welcomed and you called her my mistress.

   - Well, I’m sorry, next time I’ll call her your bed companion. 

   - No, next time you won’t say anything if you know what’s good for you and for your job. 

   - Are you threatening me over a mortal? I’m sorry but when are you gonna realise that relationships between gods and mortals don’t work? You’re gonna live forever and she’s gonna die, then what? What are you gonna do when she’s gone and you have to see her soul not knowing who you are? Have you forgotten what happened with Steve? - his face tensioned at the name. - You have an obligation towards the Underworld which you cannot commit to if you’re mourning. Maybe what you’re gonna be with her for 60 or 80 years but she’s not gonna look like that forever, she’s not gonna be here forever. Not even mentioning the fact that her parents are in the Underworld, how is she gonna react if she sees them and realises they don’t remember her?

   - I don’t need advice from you, I need you to treat her like you treat any of your maidens. 

   - She’s bad news. Look ... - she got up from her sitting position, shaking off dirty from her dress. Hecate led him to the only thing that looked to be in bloom, a white rose bush. - I told her to fix it and it’s fixed. I couldn’t fix it, Demeter couldn’t fix it, my maidens couldn’t fix it and a mortal can? A mortal with an oracle for a friend? 

   - I thought you were found of witches. 

   - I told you things don’t end up well between gods and mortals. Please consider it.

Y/N was starting to get bored being sat on the grass. There wasn’t much she could do but pick some little daisies that were growing on the beautiful greenery of the Elysium. She thought about maybe putting them in James’ office when he wasn’t looking or maybe give them to the souls waiting for the ferryman. She huffed, getting up and looking around for any signs of James but instead of seeing his unruly locks and messy robes, she saw a girl holding a piece of paper and walking in circles.

She furrowed her brows, wondering if she was maybe a newly arrived lost soul or the new maiden Minthe had mention. Y/N left her basket and approached the confused girl whose eyes seemed to light up when she saw her. Y/N thought she was one of the prettiest girls she had ever seen in the Underworld with her sun-kissed skin and free flowing brown locks.

    - Are you okay? - Y/N questioned, the ever so slight tinge of shyness on her voice. Somehow she always seemed to annoy everyone in the underworld.

   - I messed up. - she said, looking at her shoes. - I messed up really bad and now I’ve been sent on a wild hunt and I ...

   - Hey, I’m sure it’s fixable. - she placed a hand softly on her shoulder, interrupting her fast rambling. - What are you looking for? Maybe I could help you find it.

   - Are you sure Hecate will be alright with that?

   - Hecate? - she raised an eyebrow before follow the girl’s view point to the pins holding her robes which had the symbol of Hecate. - Oh, yeah, that. Well, I’m sure she’d rather have me further than closer. 

   - It happens with Hecate. 

   - What are you looking for? Maybe I know where it is and if not I’m sure I know someone who does. 

   - Thank you so much. - she hugged her like a child who’d just been told she could have whatever toy she had. - Right, we need to find golden strawberries.

   - Golden strawberries? 

   - I know, it’s my mother-in-law. She asked for it and I don’t want to get in trouble. 

Y/N took off with the girl into the Elysium. She’d never seen strawberries in the groves and since Hecate was probably mad at her, she decided to look for them somewhere else, however they just couldn’t find them out. Y/N had definitely heard of golden apples but never golden strawberries. Bucky probably would know but he still wasn’t back for the Groves, or if he was, she didn’t know where he was. 

   - Y/N! - someone shouted her name which made both girls turn around to spot a very annoyed and worried James strutting towards her. He stopped once he noticed the girl next to her. - Psyche, what are you here for?

   - Golden Strawberries. 

   - I wonder how much golden fruit Aphrodite will request. - James chuckled, wrapping his arm around his girlfriend protectively. - Y/N, this is Psyche the ...

   - Goddess of the Soul, Eros’ wife. - sometimes he forgot that she probably knew more about the pantheon than he knew. 

   - Is that your girlfriend? Eros said you were saying someone. 

   - Eros needs to keep his mouth shut. - of course Eros would tell her. James was pretty sure that there were no secrets or hidden stuff with that couple. Guess that’s what happens when you’re married to the god of love. 

   - Well, me and Eros are having a dinner with some other couples, I would love it if you two could come. You never come to any of my dinners besides Aphrodite doesn’t tend to pick on me if you’re around. - 

   - No, I don’t think we ...

   - We’d love to go. - Y/N interrupted him and he wondered if she even cared that he was the King of the Underworld. Probably not.

tag list: @philogrobizedvee​​​​​​  @keithseabrook27​​​​​ @inlovewith3​​​​19 @nwbstan​