#and this memory somehow stood the test of time. just that moment of crying over such an odd concept

[piss-stained-jorts]

if the message that you are ugly and unworthy of romance was beaten into you from before you hit double digits to the point that you can't even imagine, as a harmless daydream, being loved and desired by your fictional favorites without cringing and berating yourself, you may be entitled to financial compensation

[majestyeverlasting]

Hi!! Could you write for Bucky prompts 4 and 26??

♡ Hi, Anon!! I love this prompt pairing so much! Thank you for requesting this, and for waiting on me to get around to it! In this one, Bucky and the reader visit a park in Brooklyn that stirs up some nostalgic memories. But what he doesn't know is that, later that night, he'll learn that he's going to be a father. There's some pretty fall imagery and lots of sweet moments. I hope you like it! (Note: this isn’t canon regarding Bucky’s true age)

♡ Prompt 4: "Remember we used to come here when we were kids?"

♡ Prompt 26: “I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I? You’re really pregnant?”

All I Ever Wanted

There was a crispness to the evening air as the beginnings of fall settled within Brooklyn. The trees of Prospect Park, once green, were slowly transitioning into rich shades of orange and red. As you and Bucky walked along one of the pathways, leaves crunching beneath your shoes, there was an absence of car engines and horns—it was peaceful. All there was to be heard was chirping birds, the soft chatter of other park-goers, and the occasional whir of a cyclist’s wheels whenever one passed by.

Upon reaching a wooden bridge, the gentle sound of flowing water emerged as well. Beneath it, was a slender waterfall that fed into a small pond with dead leaves floating on the surface. Bucky wrapped an arm around your waist as the two of you admired it from over the railing. Somehow the whole day, including that moment itself, had managed to feel like a dream.

The two of you hadn’t been to Prospect Park in what felt like forever. Life had a way of sweeping you up in winds of responsibility that kept you from enjoying moments of stillness. But those winds had since drifted elsewhere, leaving the two of you with the freedom to simply be. Venturing out into nature and away from the noise had been Bucky’s suggestion earlier that morning. There was no place like the outdoors that was capable of soothing the soul.

“Look, doll,” he said eventually. Your eyes followed where his free hand pointed.

On one of the big rocks peeking out of the water below, a yellow butterfly had perched itself on a rock. “Yeah, I see it. It’s so pretty.” You smiled when he gave you a gentle squeeze.

“You know what butterflies symbolize?” You met his gaze, willing for him to continue. “Life and new beginnings,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

For a fraction of a second, you froze. You’d managed to keep yourself collected for the entirety of the day, but hearing those words quickened your heartbeat. Enough so that you became all the more reminded of what he didn’t know—not yet.

That morning, as he spoke to you through the bathroom door about going to Prospect Park, you’d been staring at a positive pregnancy test. You barely had enough breath to agree to the outing. And when he’d asked if you were okay, you told him you were fine, but left out the fact that your lives would be changing forever in the months to come.

The two lines on the stick explained weeks worth of your body trying to communicate to you. It explained that deep sense of knowing that refused to go away. To say that you wanted to merely tell Bucky would’ve been the largest understatement of your lifetime. With all the emotions that stirred within you, you wanted to scream, cry, and jump at the same time.

A voice within you encouraged you to make the moment you told Bucky really special and intimate. Especially considering every turn that his life had taken over the years. So you vowed to wait until the two of you arrived home from your evening at the park.

“Life and new beginnings,” you repeated. You were already aware that such was associated with butterflies, but hearing him say it in that moment carried a certain magnitude. “I love the sound of that.”

Later, after walking further, you found yourselves nestled on one of the benches overlooking the lake. The water sparkled in the warm light of the sun as it prepared to set. A couple men stood peppered along the bank fishing. Children giggled as they chased after each other. Paired with the fall trees and colors all around, it was nothing short of a beautiful scene.

You let your head rest on Bucky’s shoulder, and took his real hand in yours to play with his fingers. There was a time, years ago, when the two of you would play along that same lake—throughout the whole park, actually.

You were the first to speak after a while, “Remember we used to come here when we were kids?” You straightened up from his shoulder to look at him.

“Of course I do,” he said, a smile starting on his face. “Especially during the summer. We’d always try to find open fire hydrants to play in after we left. And if we were lucky, our mom’s would let us get ice cream or shaved ice,” he recounted, chuckling. “Those were the days.”

You shook your head. “I know. Now look at us.” About to have a child of our own, you thought.

“Yup. Time flies when you’re having fun,” he said, casting out a brief look around at the serenic evening. Then he focused back on you, his tone shifting, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah...” you tried not to answer too fast. “Why?”

Bucky narrowed his eyes a bit and gave a shrug. “I don’t know, I can just tell that something’s on your mind—ever since this morning,” he noted. “But you have yet to tell me what that something is, pretty girl.”

It took everything not to tell him right then and there, as you sat under a blue and orange sky in the park you knew like the back of your hand.

You offered him half a smile. “I’m that easy to read?”

He lifted a shoulder. “Not necessarily. I’ve been reading you for a long time so it’s easy.” You allowed yourself to chuckle when he playfully quirked his brows. “So am I gonna have to work really hard to coax it out of you?”

You shook your head earnestly. “I promise I'll tell you when we get home… I have something to show you.”

On your way out of the park, there was a mama duck waddling under a tree with her ducklings trailing behind her.

It wasn’t until after you and Bucky made it back to your apartment, and had changed into something comfortable, that you told him you were ready. He sat on the edge of the bed as you went to retrieve the small gift box holding the pregnancy test. It was a miracle that you had had enough supplies left over from birthdays and holidays to be able to make it look as presentable as it did.

You extended it to him from a couple feet away. So much anticipation had built within you that you felt light, and as though you were buzzing.

Bucky accepted the box, and looked up at you. There was a sparkle in his blue eyes. “Why are you standing a mile away from me? C’mere.” You inched closer, and laughed when he pulled you to stand more so between his spread legs.

As he began to undo the white ribbon on the box, your lower lip was secured between your teeth. It seemed as though he was moving entirely too slow and fast at the same time.

As soon as he popped the lid off to reveal the pregnancy test sitting on top of little strips of crinkled, beige paper strips, your heartbeat sped up. Bucky’s attention lingered on the test. When he finally looked up, his gaze attested to the influx of thoughts that had been sparked into motion within his mind.

“I’m not reading this thing wrong, am I?” He briefly looked back down to stick again. Two lines. “You’re really pregnant?”

A smile broke across your face. With the news out, it felt as though you were uncaging a group of birds that had been longing for freedom for way too long. Before you could say anything else, Bucky set the box aside and stood to press his lips to yours. You stumbled back at the intentness in which he gripped your waist. It was a kiss that you felt every part of him through; his love, his passion, his warmth. And an intoxicating mix of joy and expectation.

He pulled away just enough to speak. “We’re gonna be parents?” His breath fanned over your lips. Then he leaned back in to kiss you once more, a soft peck. “You’re carrying our child?”

Bucky’s hands slipped under your shirt, and the feeling of palms against your skin was pleasant in the best way. One was cooler than the other, but they were both gentle and reverent.

“Yes,” you breathed. “I found out this morning.”

He scratched gently at your stomach, sending a shiver through you. “You managed to keep it to yourself the whole day. That’s what was on your mind?” He kissed you again.

“You have no idea how bad I wanted to tell you. No idea.” You brought your hands up to his cheeks, the budding stubble scratchy against your palms. “But I wanted to wait until we came back from Prospect.”

Bucky released a breath after a few beats of silence. “I don’t even know what to say,” he said, voice low. “This is so crazy—a good crazy.”

“I know. I’m happy and terrified at the same time,” you admitted. “I’ve never felt this way in my entire life, but it feels….”

“Good,” he finished.

A laugh escaped you. “Yeah.”

Seconds later, he was getting down onto his knees to be level with your stomach. It wasn’t until he lifted your shirt to press a kiss to your stomach that the reality of the moment set in. For the first time since learning about your pregnancy, tears slipped down your cheeks.

Bucky heard you sniffle, and stood back up to take your hands in his. “This is all I ever wanted, you know that, doll?” A few tears had come to the waterline of his eyes. “A beautiful wife, a family. This is all something I thought I’d never have.”

You sniffled again, nodding. “You deserve everything,” you murmured.

“I have my everything right in front of me.”

Without waiting another moment, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed him tighter than you had in a while. Parents. The two of you were going to be parents.

-

Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave a comment, if you'd like. For more fluffy Bucky Barnes fics, click here.

[and-knowing-is-half-the-battle]

Winterrogation, Chapter 4: The Experiment

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Summary: The Winter Soldier has had his memory erased, but the doctor has a use for you yet.

Pairing: Winter soldier x fem!reader

Work Count: 1.6K

Warnings: sex pollen, minors DNI, dubcon/noncon, noncon exhibition, penetrative sex, rough sex, biting, fingering, humiliation, creampie.

A/N: Do not copy, translate, repost or rewrite my work, even if you credit me. I do not give my permission for my works to be copied or shared on other sites.

Picture source: bucky-daddy

________________________________________________________

You had sat alone in the Winter Soldier’s quarters for at least a day. You were confused by the recent events between you, but now knew for certain that he was a prisoner as well. A dangerous one. Despite that, you had found yourself actively worrying about him after they had taken him away at gunpoint. And then there were the guttural screams you had heard. You didn’t sleep well, those screams hard to shake from your head. 

During your boredom, you had started to leaf through his military strategy books, surprised when a small, white feather fell out of one. You admired it in the lamp light, it’s delicate tendrils long and soft. Maybe there was more to him than you had seen. 

While staring at it for the thousandth time, you heard the bars being removed from the doors. You guiltily placed it back in the book and shut it, not wanting him to see you invading his privacy, despite staying in his room. You were surprised to discover two guards behind the door, who once again escorted you without explanation down the hall, holding you by your arms. You lost track of the turns, your heart racing with fear. You found yourself in a room with at least a dozen men milling around and a large observation window behind them. The guards pulled you out of the way, into the corner, and held you in place. You unconsciously craned to see around the men and through the window until one of the guards yanked you firmly back into place.

“Gentlemen, may I have your attention,” one middleaged man said, standing with his back to the window. The room stilled. “Today we have a unique opportunity to test what our research team has developed. We have long been curious about its effects on super soldiers,” he gestured behind him, and you could finally see a nearly empty room, excepting the Winter Soldier in a chair, back rigid, eyes forward. 

“Administer the pollen,” he snapped his fingers in the air, and a man left the room, reappearing on the other side of the window. He approached the unflinching Winter Soldier and injected him in the neck with a red substance. “It should take around 5 minutes to take effect. Let us introduce the target,” he gestured again, and you felt yourself being pulled across the room. The guards pulled you through the door and shoved you inside before latching it behind you. You would still hear the man’s words, though it was muffled by the thick glass. 

“The target is known to the Winter Soldier, but he has undergone a memory wiping as of yesterday. It is known that they are sexually compatible,” he went on as you struggled to process what you just heard, “now let us observe the results. The pollen has reduced regular men to lustful dogs,” he chuckled, and the room joined, “unable to find peace until they complete in a target, but let us finally see how a super soldier reacts.” You shuddered at their detachment and amusement at your predicament. 

You could now see that there was also a metal table to the side, and you gravitated toward it, feeling vulnerable in the large open space. The Winter Soldier continued to sit at attention in the center of the room. Did he even hear what they had said? You decided to approach him, and did so cautiously. They had said his memory had been wiped, which you didn’t even know was possible, but they also said you had a few minutes before the pollen likely took effect. 

As always, you were intimidated by his sheer size as you moved in front of him. His eyes took a moment, but seemed to focus on you. You stepped forward slowly, with your hands out in front of you, again feeling that you were approaching a large animal, rather than a man. You searched for any hint of recognition, but were disappointed to find none. Like he was looking through you. 

“Are you ok?” you asked in a low voice, “Did they hurt you?” His face didn’t change, but something told you he could hear you. You took a risk and stepped even closer. You could hear his heavy breath and see his chest gently moving in and out. You swallowed thickly, unsure of how to address him, despite how intimate you had been. “Are you alright?” you tried again, afraid to breathe.

The change was sudden. His eyes darkening, his jaw tightening, and his fists clenching at his sides. His groan of pain rang off the walls as he closed his eyes and stood, the chair flung like a toy behind him. Fear ripped through your gut as he towered above you, but your feet felt cemented to the floor. 

He groaned again, teeth bared in a grimace, muscles on his neck bulging. His chest heaved and his eyes snapped open, then found you. 

Your feet mercifully began to work as you stumbled back, trying to escape. It took him one step to catch up with you, his large hand grabbing your arm and rooting you in place. You turned to face him, terrified of what you would see. You had seen him lustful before, but his eyes were feral. He pulled you into him, biting into your neck with force. You cried out in pain, trying to push away uselessly. While still clamped down on you, he grabbed the hem of your shirt and literally ripped it to the neck, his hands desperately seeking your skin. Despite yourself, you could feel a wetness grow between your legs. 

Shit. You forgot he can smell it. He pulled back, forcefully pulling your tattered shirt away from you, then tearing at your pants. His flesh forearm pulled your lower back firmly toward him, allowing you to feel his giant bulge. He growled at the contact, rutting against you while he buried his face against your hair. Your face was pressed against his chest, and his smell overwhelmed you, woody and familiar. 

He lifted you effortlessly by your ass, you instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around him to keep from falling. He crashed you onto the table and his face pushed into you, licking and biting along your neck, chest, and abdomen while his hands roamed hungrily. He bit onto your bra impatiently as he shoved his metal hand down your underwear, his fingers entering your pussy with ease. You moaned as he pumped them into you repeatedly, and your head fell back, feeling your self control start to unravel. 

That’s when you heard the cheering. The men observing you were hooting at the sight before them, and your cheeks heated in embarrassment. 

“Please, no,” you weakly begged as his thumb found your clit, circling it deliciously as he pressed his erection against your knee. When you tried to sit up, his flesh hand found your throat and held you down. This display of dominance worked against you as you felt a familiar warm sensation building deep inside you.

“Not here, not here,” you chanted, your vision starting to blur from his grasp. When his teeth pulled your bra down enough to find your nipple, you snapped, your orgasm coursing through you as you bucked in his grasp, wailing. As you came down, you heard lascivious commentary coming from the observation room. 

“Did you see that?!”

“I’d like to try her next!”

“Doc, can I bring this stuff home to my wife?”

The Winter Soldier was unaffected by their noises, dropping his hands to pull at his pants. The button flew off, hitting the wall with an audible crack, as he revealed his impressive cock. You found yourself clenching at the sight of it, wondering if it had somehow gotten even bigger. 

He pulled you roughly to the edge of the table and pushed your underwear to the side, entering you slowly and letting out a cry of relief as his head fell back. Your walls accommodated him as you gasped for air, totally stuffed full. You never got used to how he hit all your spots at once. It occurred to you in some corner of your already cockdrunk brain that you had never seen him this raw before. He was usually in complete control. 

When he began to thrust, you melted onto the table, keening rhythmically as you held the edge to brace yourself. He held your hips tightly, going deeper and faster than you remembered, and you were lost, everything gone but the sensation. The table scraped loudly across the floor, inches at a time, until it hit the wall and there was nowhere else to go. His face was red and covered in a sheen of sweat, eyes screwed closed, mouth hanging open as he panted. You were mesmerized by his every twitch, drinking in how you could read him so well. 

He reached his flesh hand down to play with your clit again, your moans becoming louder. You knew how he liked to feel you cum around him to push him over the edge. This time you paid the audience no mind as you arched, waves of pleasure crashing over you again and again. He groaned in appreciation as he came inside you, his hips eventually stilling. He leaned over you, both of you panting for a moment before he pulled out. 

He seemed to come to his senses then, tucking himself quickly back inside his pants and backing away from you, not meeting your eyes. You pushed yourself gingerly off the table, testing your shaky legs. 

“Well gentlemen, it would seem it has a strong effect, but he was able to stave it off enough to consider the target’s pleasure. We will continue with our research to see what adjustments need to be made, and will provide you with a copy of our report from today’s findings. Clean this up,” the man waved his hand dismissively, and guards entered the room to whisk you off once again. 

Chapter 5

[vdlest]

I'm home in your arms

Characters:

Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary:

Bucky always comes to visit you, but this time, he asked you to come over to his place. Upon your arrival at his apartment, you found him sad and emotional.

Warning:

Fluff

When Bucky called you to ask you to come over to his place, you immediately felt something’s wrong with him. He would not ask you to come over in the first place if nothing’s wrong or bothering him. Otherwise, he’ll come to your place like he always does.

At times like this, you would understand why he wanted you to move in with him or he’ll move in with you. You two have been in a relationship for three years now, and secrets have no room between the two of you anymore. You are each other’s family. It’ll be much easier for both of you to comfort each other in times like this if only you are both living under the same roof. But you insisted to still live separately since you two still deserve a little privacy and you two planned to build your own house, and once that dream house is fulfilled, that's when you and Bucky will live together.

When you arrived at his apartment, you used the key which Bucky gave you to enter his place. You did not waste any more time looking for him in other parts of his place, you instantly knew where he is.

The door in his bedroom is slightly opened, you peeked first to see and confirm if he really is there.

You saw him sitting on the edge of his bed, both of his hands, the flesh one and the vibranium one, are on his head. He's looking down that's why you can't see his face, but you could already tell his sadness and his emotional self. You start to wonder what is happening to him and what made him feel this way. There's only one way to find out, so you entered his room. You went up straight in front of him, kneeling to announce your presence, but since your boyfriend is a super-soldier, he must've known your arrival already because of his super-hearing ability.

"Hey," you called him as you kneel in front of him, "What happened?" you asked.

Bucky lets out heavy breathing before he answers you, "I miss my family, y/n," his voice is breaking, and you could tell he's on the edge of crying.

You froze the moment his eyes meet yours.

His eyes are red and full of emotion, full of pain. It has been decades since the last time he saw his family, his parents, and his sister, he's a hundred years old man, but despite the years, he is still longing for them, still hoping that he would be able to talk to them and see them once again. But you know what hurts him the most, the fact that he wasn't there for his sister. His sister died and he didn't know about it because HYDRA erased every bit of his memories.

"I miss them," he sniffles.

"I know," your hands traveled to his nape, pulling him for a hug, which he obliged. He rested his head on your shoulder as his emotions finally show up, tears finally ran down his cheeks.

For the first minutes of your arrival in his apartment, you two remained in that position. You just sat down in front of him, while his head is buried on your shoulder. You didn't want to stop him from letting his emotions out, you thought it can help him ease the pain because the more you suppress your feelings from manifesting, the more pain you'll feel and you will not be free from it.

"Buck, you'll see them again at the right time, at the right place," you spoke, finally breaking the silence between the two of you, "But right now, you're here. You're here with us, with me. We need you here, I need you. I know no amount of words can make you feel better right now, and I know you'll always miss them, but it's alright, my love. It's normal to miss the people we lost but the very best thing to feel their love and presence even though they're gone is through their memories with us."

When your feet and knees start to numb because you've been in that position for so long, you cupped Bucky's face, making him pull away from your shoulder and meet your eyes.

"You want me to stay tonight?" you asked him.

He nodded, "Yeah."

"I figured," you kissed the tip of his nose before you stood up to remove your shoes and your jacket.

When you're left with your white v-neck shirt and your pants, you climbed up to his bed and lay down. Bucky did the same thing, he climbed up to his bed, but when he's about to pull you for a cuddle, you stopped him by grabbing his hand and you are the one who pulled him for a cuddle.

"Come here," you softly said as you pull him towards you.

You guided him on top of you, you rest his head on your chest as you wrapped your hand around his nape, giving it a caress. In that position, you could feel his heartbeat, you could feel his breathing, you could feel him.

"Sometimes, I wish I didn't have to leave my sister for war, maybe I could have a little more time with her," he uttered while resting on top of you, making you feel his vibrations. "I wish HYDRA didn't captured me. I wish I didn't became the Winter Soldier. I wish I lived a normal life."

Somehow, you felt sorry for him for not being able to join his sister in this cruel thing we called life. He should have been with his sister, but war and HYDRA made it so impossible for him to do that. But you knew that if he didn't go through all of that, he wouldn't find his way to you, the two of you wouldn't not be here. Your heart flinched a bit when you realized that Bucky wanted to live his normal life, and it means a life without you.

"Buck, you're also wishing that the two of us shouldn't meet at all."

Your words made him stood up from his position, he moved to your side as he meet your eyes, "No," he shook his head. His hand moved to your cheek, "I would never wish for such a thing. Your existence made me surpass all the odds, all the miseries I've been through. You are the only person that helps me to fight everything. So please, don't ever think that way."

"I know there's no way I could fill the longing and emptiness you feel in your heart because only your family could do that, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. I will do everything in my power to help you in any possible way because.." you caress his cheek and smiles at him, "...because that's how much I love you, Bucky."

He gave you a small smile, "I know, and I'm sorry for making you feel you're not enough reason for me to be happy in this new life I have," he leaned forward to kiss your forehead before he continues talking, "You're more than enough."

"There's something I also need to tell you, Buck," you said.

"What is it?" he asked, a bit frowning.

Before you received a call from him, asking you to come to his place, you're about to take a pregnancy test. You've been feeling sick for the past few weeks, you would throw up, feel dizzy, the food you used to like, you hate it now, and most of all, your period is delayed. You wanted to take the test first before you consult a doctor, but you weren't able to finish the test because you are worried about Bucky.

"Hey," he sensed that you're worried after you told him that you might be pregnant, "You don't have to be scared or worried. We will make this work, and if you're really pregnant, that'd make me the happiest man alive."

When you first had a hunch that you might be pregnant, you got scared initially. You got scared that you and Bucky might not be ready for a very serious situation like this one, but you knew in your heart you will keep the baby once you confirmed you are really pregnant. But now, after you heard Bucky's reaction, all your worries disappeared.

You cupped his face, "You know, maybe you weren't given the chance to be a brother to your sister, but I could tell, your sister wants you to be a good dad," you told him. "Thank you, Bucky. Thank you for not freaking out, and thank you for making me feel better," you added.

He shook his head, removing strands of hair blocking your face, "I should be the one thanking you, my love. You always give me a reason to be happy, to fight, and now you just gave me another one," his hand moved to your belly, "I love you with all my heart. Thank you for being here with me. Thank you for choosing to go through life with me."

That night, you and Bucky ended up endlessly staring at a white rectangular-shaped gadget with two red lines on it.

In 9 months, both of you will be called parents.

Bucky might not be able to fulfill his obligations so his sister, you knew he would make it up to her by being the best dad he could be to your child. From then on, Bucky realized that he won't be able to turn back the time anymore, so he have to live in the present and make the world a better place for his child with you.

-v.dl

[20moonchild21]

𝗦𝗲𝗵𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗰𝗵𝘁 [𝗯𝘁𝘀]

⇉ 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 18

[pairings]

JK x female!oc, Bunny!JK x human!female!oc, Jin x female!oc, Leopard!Jin x human!female!oc, Jimin x female!oc, white Tiger!Jimin x human!female!oc, Taehyung x female!oc, black Tiger!Taehyung x human!female!oc, Hobi x female!oc, Fox!Hobi x human!female!oc, Namjoon x female!oc, Wolf!Namjoon x human!female!oc, JK x Jin x Jimin x Taehyung x Hobi x Namjoon x female!oc

[warnings]

abusive past

[words]

4.2k

[author]

I am so glad to finally add Namjoon fully to the story. I just love him so much.

Like always, I can only recommend you to check out @starlightauroras-main story Inferiority Complex. It’s super cute and exciting to read. But recently, I found another Hybrid!reader story from @secretbangtnn. I definitely will stay excited for Until I bleed out! I hope so will you!

By the way, did you stream Butter? I have to admit that I was shocked when I saw JK‘s eyebrow piercing 😂 How did you like the song? Me personally, I love it. I also love to watch the behind the scenes videos. The boys put so much passion and effort in everything they do, it’s just amazing.

Stay healthy and safe!

Mꨄ

[chapter 17 ||| chapter 19]

Today had been an eventful day. Hope had finally been able to get Jimin’s and Taehyung’s adoption papers, so both of them could live with her officially. In that occasion, thy all had gathered together at the kitchen table in the evening, each boy with a glass of orange juice and Hope with a glass of sparkling wine.

“Okay, guys. I wanna say something.” Hope announced, as she stood up from her chair. “As you know, today we officially welcome Taehyung and Jimin in our family and I want to use this occasion to say a few words. You guys turned my life upside down ever since I met you, but I never regretted anything. I want to thank you, Jin and Jungkook, that you trusted me enough to stay and that you gave Taehyung and Jimin a chance to live here even though it was hard for you. I also want to thank Jimin and Taehyung for giving us the chance to show you that we are good people. And of course Hobi, thank you for always being so positive and funny. I – I really do love you guys.”

Jungkook was the first one who was standing up from his chair and walked towards the girl. He wrapped his arms around her smaller body, before he pressed a short kiss onto her lips. Time has already passed since their first kiss in the park and by now, it was no longer a big deal for them to share some small kisses in front of the others from time to time.

The small shade of red on her cheeks increased when Jimin was the next one to hug her tightly, before he pressed a longer kiss onto her cheek. The white tiger was still more carefully when it came to kissing in front of the others, but Hope didn’t mind at all. She gave him a small kiss back and let go of him.

Jin also came to give her a hug. The older boy was still hesitating to kiss her but instead, he wrapped his long tail tightly around both of their bodies.

“Ehm.” Hope pulled away from the leopard when Taehyung cleared his throat. “I also want to say something.”

Jin rubbed his head one last time over the girl’s neck, before he walked back towards his chair. All 5 people were now expectingly at the black tiger, who had stood up from his chair. The room fell silence for a few seconds, while he was looking for the right words to start.

“I – I don’t really know how to start.” He admitted, scratching his neck with his left hand. “I – I want to apologize to all of you. I gave all of you a hard time, even though you all were nothing but nice to me and my brother. Jungkook and Jin, I thank you for letting us stay with you even though I have not always been nice to you, and Jimin, I am sorry that I made you choose between me and the others. You were just trying to make new friends and be nice, but I gave you feelings of guilty all the times for doing so. I am sorry for that.”

Before Taehyung even had the chance to finish properly, Jimin had already stood up threw himself into his brother’s arms. Hope knew what hard times Jimin had went through. She had found him crying a few times, desperate and helpless because he had not known what to do anymore.

The girl watched as Jungkook stood up and walked over to the two tigers, before he wrapped his arms around the smaller one. He his nose against the white tiger’s fluffy hair and whispered something into it.

It had not been unnoticed by Hope how close all the boys were, despite all the troubles they had at first. Especially Jimin, who had wrapped everyone around his fingers with his sweet personality.

Hope loved to watched the three younger ones joking around together and with each other. She loved to watch Jin and Jimin cooking together in the evenings, and she loved to watch them interacting with Hobi as if they had known him for years.

“Hope.” The girl gasped when she felt Jin wrapping his arms around her from behind, before he placed his chin into her right shoulder. “You were snoozing out again.”

A shiver an down the girl’s spine when she felt the boy’s breath tickling her ear. She knew that by now, it was impossible to hide her redden cheeks every time one of the boys was hugging or kissing her. Even if you could, they would probably hear her heart beat with their extra senses. Hope sometimes had the feeling that they were enjoying those moments where she was struggling to hide her emotions.

Like a few days ago, when she had been sitting on the sofa, watching TV like usually. Hope had been laying between Taehyung’s legs with her back against his chest and her head laying on his shoulder. The black tiger had his tail wrapped around the both of them and his arms on her waist, before he had begun to rub his head against the sensitive skin of Hope’s neck after a while.

It had not felt uncomfortable at all. All the others boys had scented her before, so she was kind of used to it, but Taehyung also loved to tease. After some time, he had begun to bump not only his cheek but also his nose and lips against her skin. If that had not been enough, he had even let his teeth nibbing at her ear from time to time which had make the girl gasp sometimes. Taehyung had only chuckled, and also some of the other boys had seemed to enjoy that scene.

She sometimes wished that her body would not be some obvious, but deep down inside, those feelings were some of the most beautiful she had ever felt, and sometimes it made her wonder, if that was how love was supposed to feel like?

Namjoon laid wide awake in his bed this night. It was one of those days his mind keep racing and racing with thoughts, letting him no chance to find some sleep. A glance at the clock showed his that it was close to midnight, making him groan in frustration.

His room was only enlighten by the small lamp on his nightstand, and when he had looked over towards the clock, his eyes had also fell onto the small, square shaped object laying peacefully on the small desk. That girl – Hope – or rather her Hybrid had given him the small book.

Hope. A feeling he had not been feeling in a very long time. Since he could remember, he had been on his own out there, and at first, he didn’t mind at all. In his mind, there were several smaller pieces of memories when he was a child. Like all Hybrids, he had been bred and living in a laboratory a little bit outside if Seoul.

Being locked in a small cell, he had early been taught that in this world no one was truly caring for each other. Those scientist had only got him out when they had needed to make some new experiences with him. During those times, when Namjoon had felt nothing but pain and betraying, he had started distracting himself by taking in every small piece of information he could pick up and focus on that.

He had often read over those giant posters on the wall, showing off different anatomies of different kind of living beings. Quickly, he had figured out how a huma’s and Hybrid’s body was working, where every single bone was placed or where the different veins were running along. Somehow, he even had caught a glimpse on some Hybrid’s files that had been laying around on the desk that had been telling him for which purpose he had been there.

At first, it had hurt him that he only was a testing object for human to find out how sensitive his instincts were working during different circumstances, but then, that ever had been the only truth in his life. One day, he had accidentally overheard a conversation of two scientists talking about how the testing series would be stop soon and they would needed to get rid of all the participating Hybrids.

He had not known what that meant, but a few days later, he had been dragged out of his cell and brought to a large airplane. Those people had told him that they would fly to America to take place at an auction, but it had only been a large lie. They locket him up and drove into a small forest near the airport, and when night had been come, they had thrown him out of the car like he was just a pile of garbage, before driving away.

Still locket in the cage, the small and confused wolf had waited desperately, hoping that someone would come and pick him up from that cold place, but it had never happened. In the moment he had realized his situation, he had promised himself to never trust anyone again in this world. Luckily for him, he was smart and had been teaching himself enough to survive all by himself in the forest.

For several years, he had been able to hide until one day, he had been too careless while hunting. A hunter had spotted him and immediately had called the police to lock him up again.

Namjoon closed his eyes tightly when the memory of him being teased to the ground by a police officer. He had never meant to hurt anyone, but in that situation, he had not known what to do anymore. The emotions where running wild inside the now older wolf. It took him everything to keep himself under control right now and to not let the emotions take over his body.

Of course he was not stupid. He knew that after that incident there would be no chance for him to win his upcoming court date. Hybrids were absolutely not worthing anything to those creatures calling themselves human. They won’t ever let him win. They would lock him up again or even worse, they would put him to sleep for being dangerous. It was hopeless.

Hope. There was that name again. Laura had brought that small, blond haired girl up a few days ago. Another face that he had met, and another face that would be gone withing the following days. He knew it. He had seen it.

Laura had often brought some people with her in the past. Lawyers, psychologists, judges…but none of them had got him to talk. They all had given up on him without even trying, so why trusting that new girl now? He tried to convince himself that she was like anyone else, but something – a small little voice inside his head – was telling him that something about her was special.

Was it the tone of her voice that had caught his attention from the first moment she had been talking or rather the words she had been using? Or maybe her round, brown eyes that looked so innocent and trustworthy? Or the fact that she already had adopted 5 Hybrids that seemed to have a good life with her? Namjoon couldn’t tell at all.

Suddenly, he wondered how the small girl’s home must look like. Living with 5 other people, she must had a big apartment or even a house. But maybe all of her Hybrids had to live in one room or even in cadges. A shiver ran down his spine while thinking about this. She had not sounded like she would be cruel to them, but then, she was human. No one could tell what was really going on in her head.

He closed his eyes and thought about the past days instead and like the past minutes, his mind was occupied with thinking about that new girl. Somehow, Hope had convinced Laura to let him go outside for the first time in weeks. His heart had been beating so fast when he had felt the sun beams filling up his skin with warmth and energy. The white, clean room he had to spend his days in had been making him sick over the last weeks.

Hope had been with him all the times. She had not been talking much, but despite their lack of conversation it had never felt uncomfortable. In fact, Namjoon enjoyed those moments with, because it was the only time of the day he could escape his clean, white prison without anyone bombarding him with questions or even treatments.

He didn’t want to recognize it, but deep down inside he somehow had the feeling that his life was about to take a big turn. It was a feeling deep inside his guts that were suddenly telling him so. Whether it would turn out for good or bad he couldn’t tell yet.

Days after days went by since Hope had started working, and slowly, her boys and her had developed some kind of a routine to pass the day. But even thought her life had become a little bit harder and more stressful Hope had always made sure to not loose any time with her roommates. She would often try new recipes with Jin, or she would listen to different music with Jimin while talking about random things that came into their minds.

Even the relationship to Taehyung had become closer and closer. He now was like a peaceful house cat, always wanting to cuddle with someone which she thought was adorable. He was a good boy with good intentions, just like Hobi. The Fox had completely warmed up to all the boys and her by now, and he even had found his passion for dancing and music just like Jimin and Jungkook.

Speaking about the Bunny, Jungkook had been behaving all mystery again over the past days. Gladly not in a bad way, but he had often been in his room lately, stating that he had something important to do. He even refused to play video games with Tae a few times which was indeed pretty strange for him, because he usually would never miss a the chance to win against the black tiger.

When Hope had asked the boys about his latest behaviour, they all had just smiled, telling her that she would need to wait for the Bunny to show her himself.

“Movie night!” Hobi playfully yelled, as he let himself fall down onto the big mattress in the middle of the living room where Jungkook, Jimin and Tae were already waiting.

Since Hope was working eight hours a day, they all had agreed that one night of the week would be their joined movie night. On that occasion, they had placed a large mattress in front of the TV and had thrown all cushions they had found in the apartment onto that mattress.

The younger boys had already chooses the movie when Jin and Hope plopped onto the mattress with a large bowl of popcorn in their hands. As soon as the girl’s bum hit the soft fabric, the bowl suddenly was taken out of her hands by Jimin, and two strong arms were placing themselves around her upper body from behind.

Tae had pulled the smaller girl closer towards himself, before he nuzzled his nose into the sensitive skin of her neck, causing her to yelp slightly.

“Tae – “ She giggles when his hot breath tickled her skin.

Of course, the black Tiger didn’t stop. He just kept pulling her closer until it was almost impossible for her to escape his grip but not in an uncomfortable way. Hope always enjoed those gestures of physical affection that made her feel loved and home. Happily, Hope leant back against Tae’s chest, making him nuzzling his nose closer into her neck, spreading his scent over skin.

They stayed in that position for a little while longer, enjoying the movie that was playing on the big TV screen when suddenly Jimin started moving from the other side of the mattress. He pushed himself away from Jin’s arm and started crawling over the other boys towards his brother and the girl. Hope was just about to open her arms for the smaller tiger to cuddle up to her, but from one to the other second Taehyung suddenly shot up from his laying position. He pulled himself and the girl up, pulling his arms closer around her body and away from his brother, flashing him his sharp fangs and growling loudly.

Jimin on the other hand had jumped away with an enormous speed, before his ears shot up hight in the ear and his fangs showing up behind his lips as well.

“Taehyung!” Hope squealed in shock, as she watched Tae’s sharp fangs from the corner of her eyes, trying to break free from his strong grip. “What are you doing. Jimin, stop! Stop growling at each other!”

Slowly, she felt the arms that were squeezing her loosing up around her torso. Quickly, Hope turned around to look at Taehyung in shock. The black tiger had stopped growling and was now looking up at the girl again with innocent eyes. When she looked around her shoulder at Jimin, she saw him also looking around with big eyes again.

“I am sorry.” The younger tiger whispered, as he reached his arms out and pulled Hope into his embrace again, making her wrap her arms around his shoulders. Though she was not scared of Taehyung, having seen his sharp teeth reminded her of how powerful those boys were compared to her after all. “I – I didn’t mean to scare you. It was a primary instinct, I couldn’t control it. You just smelled so good…like me – I – Jimin – I am sorry.”

He gave one last kiss towards the girl’s forehead, before he carefully pushed her off of his lap and crawled over towards his brother, who was still pouting with his arms crossed above his chest. Hope watched in amusement, how Jimin tried to not gave in to his brother’s apologize, but when Taehyung pulled him into a tight hug and whispered something into his ear, Jimin quickly forgave him.

“That was scary.” Hope joked, as she placed her head on Jin’s chest, not wanting to interrupt the two tigers.

Jin just hummed in response, before he pushed his nose into the girl’s hair, while his younger brother laid his head into Hope’s lap.

“You sometimes make it difficult to share you between us, Hope.” The oldest boy suddenly mumbled into her hair. “Especially, when your body smells so pure. It’s literally calling for us to spread our scent over you.”

His words caused a heavy shade of red over Hope’s cheeks. She knew that the boys could always smell her scent, but she didn’t know that they really adored her scent that much.

“P – Pure?” She eventually stuttered.

“Hmmm.” Jungkook purred, as the girl’s hand drove over the base of his sensitive ears. “There is no other scent over you beside your own, because you never had a boyfriend before.”

“Y – You guys can smell that?” The girl’s voice was now holding a tone of confusedness and embarrassment, making Jungkook and Jin chuckle.

“When you are close to someone for a very long time, that person’s scent will cover your own scent, signalling for others that you are taken.” The youngest one continued. “Your scent isn’t covered by another one. Well, beside one of our scents since we are spending a lot of time together.”

Our of instinct, Hope wanted to lift the collar of her shirt to prove whether Jungkook was telling the truth or not. But to her disappointment, her nose was far from smelling a foreign scent on her body.

“Do I smell like all of you?” She innocently asked, before sinking her shirt that she was still holding in her hands.

“Depends on who you had physical contact with.” This time, it was Tae who spoke. “Right now, Jin’s scent would cover mine. The only way to have all our scents cover you would be to – well – mate with us.”

When he finished the sentence, he winked his eyebrows up two time, making the girl blush even more. Of course, she knew what he meant. Jimin had told her about mating and marking once they had talked.

Not wanting to extend that conversation, she turned her still blushing face away from the smirking black tiger and leant her head against Jin shoulder, who was also holding a small smirk on his lips.

Of course, she wasn’t stupid. She had noticed the way the boys had been talking and acting around her, noticed how they would use any chance to hug her tightly and rub their face against her neck, making her blush every time. Sometimes, she wondered, if this was how finding one’s mate was supposed to feel like. Especially, when she remembered the kisses she had already shared with Jimin and Jungkook and that made her heart race always again.

A movement in the corner of her eyes ripped her out of her thoughts. She blinked a few times, before she turner her head, watching Hobi shifting closer towards the trio. He fiddles with his finger for a few seconds, before he looked up at the girl with his deep brown eyes.

“Are you actually making any progress with that wolf in your company?” He shyly asked, laying his fluffy tail onto Jungkook’s upper body.

Hope sighed heavily. She would love to tell him that the were making big steps forward, but she couldn’t. Namjoon was still as closed as the first day they had met. The both of them would meet up almost every day, leaving the clean, white interrogation room and taking a long walk through the small park area. Every time in silence.

Normally, Hope would give him all time to open up all by himself, but unfortunately, his court day was getting closer and closer. Almost three weeks had past since she had met the tall boy, leaving only one week before she would defend him in front of the judge.

“To be honest, we are not making much progress.” She sadly said, sinking her gaze onto Jungkook’s floppy ears in her lap. “I mean, he seems to be much more comfortable around me by now, but his court day is coming up in only one week, and I still have nothing to defend him. I wish he would just open up to me.”

By now, all 5 boys were looking at the girl with sad eyes and hanging ears, while Hope was still crawling Jungkook’s fluffy hair, deeply absorbed in her thoughts again. She wanted to help Namjoon so badly. She tried to give him time and room, she tried to tell him stories about her childhood, hoping that he would tell her something about him too, but it had failed every time.

“What happens if he won’t talk to you.” Jimin whispered from the other side of the matrass.

“If he won’t tell me what exactly happened, I can’t proof that he is innocent.” She replied after a few seconds of silence. “I can’t proof that it wasn’t his fault he reacted this way, and then he is guilty. They will either lock him away forever, or if the judge thinks that he is too dangerous, they will – they will put him to – to s –“

She couldn’t finish her sentence and she didn’t need to. The boys knew what she wanted to say. When Hope had calmed down after a few minutes, she started talking again.

“But don’t worry.” She reached out her left hand to Hobi and her right hand to Jimin, squeezing their larger hands. “I won’t let this happen, okay? I will get him out there. Somehow.”

The room fell silence for another time this evening. The boys all knew what the wolf Hybrid was going though, because they all had went through the same. They also knew that Hope was serious when she said that she would do anything to help Namjoon, they really knew. But the were powerless. There was nothing they could do to help Hope or Namjoon.

“What if you would bring him here for once.” Jin suddenly suggested, making everyone’s head shot around.

“What?” Hope asked a little bit confused, pushing herself off his chest to look properly at the oldest boy.

“Well, he clearly lost his trust in human.” The Leopards continued. “But maybe he would talk to you, once he saw that there are still people who are fighting seriously for him.”

“He is right.” Hobi’s ears shot up highly, eyes sparkling with excitement. “We could show him how we are living here and that he can trust you.”

“We could show him our rooms – “

“ – and we could make him something delicious to eat – “

“ – or we listen to some music with him together – “

The boys were talking all at once now, bringing up all kinds of ideas to convince Namjoon to cooperate. It made the girl speechless and proud when she saw how eager the boys were to help the wolf Hybrid.

“You guys would really do that for him?”

[Inspirations ||| Recommendations]

@starlightauroras-writes

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[urstruly-ghst]

can I ask an angst to fluff hc for the dorm leaders where someone told them that Crowley finally found a way to take their s/o back to their world and now they're already at their home? but in the end they came back because they don't want to be separated from them? I hope this isn't too specific thank you very much!

jdjdjs awee i love that

riddle rosehearts

Riddle hasn't seen his significant other in over a week, he hasn't heard chaos in a week, and he felt terrified on why so

He thought you and the Adeuce combo are planning something big, so he waited to see what that may be, but a month has passed and no words from you came.

When he and the others planned the Unbirthday Party, he asked the Adeuce combo to come clean, and tell them where is his lover.

Deuce stood still and lowered his gaze, while Ace nervously looked away from their Dorm Leader's gaze that could strip your pride fast.

Riddle huffed and asked the explanation, he felt mad that they won't just spit out the truth. As he taps his foot in waiting, Deuce finally had the courage to say what happened to you.

He nodded at the duo and ran to his room, saddened and not coming out to even greet his dorm on the Unbirthday Party. He just felt depressed.

While cooped up in his room, he cries while staring at a simple picture of you both, and he questions your love too. How could you leave just like that?

But even his doubts, he loves you and worries about you more.

Riddle felt terrified, he questions your well being, and since he thought this silence for a month was part of prank, he didn't think you were back to your home world.

No one can cheer up Riddle, not even Trey's sweet tarts, Riddle was just wondering what ifs and crying to anyone that you would come back.

To his surprise, you did come back! A sweet smile on your lips as you hugged him tightly.

He was reunited with the love of his life, and he couldn't help but break down holding you tightly. When you tell him that you're here for good, he pinched himself slightly.

You're here for good, and he couldn't help but cry more. He felt so grateful to be with you in this moment.

leona kingscholar

Leona hasn't seen you ever since that airhead of a headmaster summoned you to his office.

He assumed he sent you on a crazy adventure to do something for him, but it irked him how you weren't showing up for weeks!

He felt somewhat insecure and scared that your are avoiding him, and that you're hiding.

Leona decided he'd march and ask your friends.

But even after that, your friends remained silent. As if they were hiding crucial evidence or something.

He decided to stomp to Crowley or he brought Ruggie to the scene. Either way, he got from a second source, that you went back on a whim.

Leona was in denial, he was angry, growling angrily and always not believing that you went into the mirror again.

He didn't do much, he just stared. Leona believed that if you really wanted to, you could've stayed.

Bit by bit, he became lazier and snarky.

Yet, he didn't expect a sudden tackle on his stomach while he was napping. Leona clicked his tongue and was about to make a nasty remark until he opened his eyes and saw you.

Leona couldn't stomach in as he saw you, gleaming with that familiar mischievous in your bright eyes. He smiled and couldn't help but cuddle into you.

He hopes that your stay lasts, and when you confirm that you are here. He just never lets your figure go, he just wants to savour each and every second.

azul ashengrotto

The Monstro Lounge was booming with life, ever since your arrival, it somehow became more busy.

No one knew why, but he did not complain on the booming business. He always hoped that it will boom into success.

However, his only complaint was how you didn't appear into his office for a few weeks on end. But, again, he assumed you were just making sure you don't bother him.

While it made him uneasy, he wanted to know why you seemed to be... quiet. Why is that, he didn't know.

Instead of asking your friends, he just went to Ramshackle, but to his horror... You weren't there, and Grim was just in the middle of the room. As if he was missing something.

He demanded some answers to Grim, to which he replied that you went back because Crowley found a way. Azul felt saddened and infuriated.

He took Grim under his wing, as it was the only remnant of you or somewhat associated with you that isn't easily lost.

Even though he was busy, Azul kept taking breaks into a sad breakdown in his octopot, crying his eyes out as it hurt that you went out with no explanation.

Azul just had a cycle, work, bury himself, cry, repeat. This happened for weeks, that it started to concern the others.

But, no one dared to approach him, until one faithful day, someone did approach him.

Azul was about to lash out, until that voice rung in his ears. That voice that called him so sweetly.

He didn't care if he was crying ugly tears, he dragged you into his pot hugging you so desperately.

kalim al-asim

Kalim was busy, another party was planned, and he had a hectic schedule.

After Jamil had his Overblot episode, Kalim tried and tried to be more participative in the events rather than dumping it on him.

So, he kind of drifted from his own world, but he didn't forget to pester you on days when you come up.

What he didn't expect was you not showing up on the party, he felt somewhat sad. I mean, he worked hard for it!

So, he tried to search for you, asking others if they had seen you, all came up empty.

While Kalim was searching, he heard Ace and Deuce sighing sadly. Then, Ace spoke out his dismay on your sudden leaving.

He stood still, and yelled at the two first years, startling them in the process.

Kalim, tears fresh in his eyes, asked if it was true. When they confirmed, he nodded and cried, causing Ace and Deuce to just panic over the Dorm Leader.

After that event, Sacrabia barely had parties now. Jamil grew concerned, but he knew what grief can do.

Kalim decided to be more isolated and just stay put, as if he is hoping this was just a dream.

While Kalim seemed so moody, Jamil knocked politely on the bedroom door before pushing someone into his room.

He looked at the visitor, and he froze. Just as he was about to question you, you just hugged him. Tightly.

For the first time in forever, Kalim was quiet with you, as he savored the way you just said you're not leaving again.

vil schoenheit

Vil doesn't know why you just got summoned by that chaotic of a headmaster, but he stayed out of it for your privacy.

He didn't notice your absence, after all, his shoots and busy schedule lately caused him to be out and about.

Vil won't notice you being gone until a few good days after his latest shoot, he expects you to just smile radiantly and swoon.

He expects some sort of praise or compliment from you, be it text or in person. But it never came.

He thought you were out with friends, he thought you were busy, he assumed many things. That was until he lost excuses to make for you.

He rushed to Ramshackle, only to find it barren once again. No traces of you, no traces of Grim.

Horror filled his guts as he rushed to the main building, to the office, asking and demanding what happened to you.

Crowley explained the mirror found your home, and you have gone back home. At that moment, Vil was a lost for words.

Anger and sadness plagued his mind in ways he wish he can explain, but he was lost.

Vil then lost sleep over you, worrying and thinking of you, to the point he lost care for himself (by lost care, he meant less time for himself)

Rook can notice how distraught his Queen is, and he knew that all he can do is wish on a morning star that you would come back.

To Vil's surprise, you did come back. Running into his arms (in private), and crying how you aren't leaving him.

Vil was stunned but the way his tight arms around your being, you knew, he was happy. But he did scold you, after all, it was rude of you to just leave.

idia shroud

Idia hasn't seen you in forever, you haven't visited Ignihyde in ages. He thought that you finally got sick of hanging out with him, so he sulked and buried himself deep into his coding, a coping mechanism.

Ortho also worried for your being, so he inspected the school for traces of you, to turn up barren.

Ortho worked hard for his brother, hoping to see you both happy. While he gathered data and facts, he reported it to Idia.

Idia like always, started to doubt the relationship and ask if this entire thing was worth it. He just felt insecure how fast you left him.

Idia dismissed Ortho's report and decide to just stimulate a render of you, in hopes he would feel better.

While testing out the stimulation, Ortho actually found you coming back! He wanted to surprise his brother, so while Idia was testing the stimulation, you stood in front of Idia.

Each time Idia reached out to the media, you would hold him. At first, Idia thought it was his robot. When he was about to check and finalize things, he saw you.

He froze on his spot. Before shakily hugging you tight, asking if this was just a cruel dream. Only for you to shake your head, clearing any of his doubt.

malleus draconia

He was actually there when you decided to go back home, as he was in the mirror room to check on something.

Crowley barged in with you in tow, but your eyes widened as you saw your lover, in the room.

Crowley explained his intentions with you, and by then, you also explained your side and desire to go back.

Malleus felt his heart broke, but he respected your decision, as he knows your love for your home.

So, after a few moments of contemplating and goodbyes, you entered the mirror. Gone and back home.

Now, his nights felt lonesome once more, his walks now feeling boring.

He still does his nightly walks, it was his fond memories that force him to.

He knows he shouldn't, as it could hurt, but Malleus prolonged his walks around Ramshackle. As if envisioning you were still there, he claims your presence is strong around the area.

Though Malleus knows he cant bring you back, and he knows wishes can come true, he forbade himself to even consider that.

He should respect and turn around, as your decision is finalized. What he never expected was a change of heart of yours.

While exploring the Ramshackle dorm, he heard running and panting towards him. He felt alarmed, but before anything could happen, a sweet voice called his name.

Malleus stood still as arms wrapped around him, securing him into an embrace. He felt loved, but confused as to why you changed.

Then, a sweet whisper of words came from you, and that's when he felt as if nothing else can compare to that.

[seodami]

Train to you | CBG

Genre: ANGST, tiny bit fluff in between

Warning: !!!!!! death, suicide, dark thoughts, 1 tiny curse word !!!!!!!

Word count: 3417

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader (GN)

Note: well well well this was ANGSTY gdhsj it’s the first real angst I’ve attempted to write and I cried so...either I am too absorbed into the story or it really is sad haha. Please don’t read this if you have trouble with sensitive topics like these, yet anyone else who dares enjoy :))))

Main Masterlist

You cursed under your breath as you hastily ran up the cold Beton stairs, two steps at a time, trying not to collapse until you at least reached the incoming train. You were late again for work and you could already hear your boss screaming at you for being late the third time this week. It wasn’t fully your fault, you thought in your defence, remembering your defect alarm clock, the emergency call of your friend Soobin and the bottle of wine the previous day. Yes, definitely not your fault this train always leaves this early in the morning.

Lucky for you, the train was still at the platform, signalising the doors were about to close. You quickly squeezed yourself through the door before it was too late and to your surprise, there even were a few seats left. Still panting heavily, you plopped down on a vacant seat while trying to catch your breath. You used your red cardigan to pat away the sweat on your forehead.

It wasn’t until the train slowly started moving, that you caught a glimpse of an all to familiar cardigan outside on the other side of the platform. It was a brown haired boy, who was wearing the exact same clothing piece as you. And the longer you’ve watched him, you noticed that in fact his whole outfit was the same as yours today. Black jeans, red cardigan, black converse and a silver necklace.

You gasped at the boy, trying to not lose him as the train sped up but failed of course. Soon he was way out of sight and reach for you. You felt a weird tuck on your heart. Disappointed. You wanted to look at him just a tad longer.

The boy never left your mind for too long this day, always staying in your memory to be recalled back. He was wearing the same outfit as you, sure it could have been pure coincidence and you knew this world was probably smaller than it seemed but nevertheless, you found it fascinating. It was the first time this ever happened to you.

The next day, you managed to wake up earlier for once, having slept only a little, mind too clouded with everything and nothing at the same time. You were surprisingly excited to go take the train this morning. You didn’t want to tell yourself that it was because you wanted to see the stranger once more. So you nearly ran upstairs, without really needing to hurry, and there you saw him on the other side again.

He wore the same outfit as you again. A beige coat, black turtleneck, blue jeans and a black beret. You didn’t expect this at all, leaving you baffled. Sure, it must have been a coincidence again. But why was he so captivating for you?

You didn’t know how long you just stood there, looking at him and his face, oh his very pretty face. You wanted him to notice you. Just one look maybe? One tiny glance? It would do your strangely beating heart some justice. But he seemed like he was in his own world, smiling up in the sky, eyes slowly following the steady floating clouds.

You asked yourself if he took notice in you as well but soon came to the conclusion that he had not as the train arrived right on time.

You decided to test your outfit theory right the next day, being way too giddy to see the good looking stranger again. Luckily you still had some extremely ridiculous and questionable clothing pieces you buried in the back of your closet, not being all too happy to see your failed purchases again. You made a mental note to donate some of them later on.

You couldn’t hold back a snort when your eyes met yours in the mirror against your closet door. Why exactly were you humiliating yourself again? The pink baggy pants hung low on your hips, paired together with the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. To top it off, you wore your long cheetah print fur coat with a blue collar and you couldn’t resist putting on your red bucket hat. This must do it. If the stranger still happened to wear the exact same outfit as you, you knew it had to be more than coincidence.

And just like that, you found yourself staring at the boy with wide open mouth, gaining weirded out looks from bystanders. He wore it. The same. Your mind was racing with thoughts and possible explanations but you cannot seem to find any. How was this possible? You thought of it as a joke at first but now...you didn’t know what the hell was going on. Were you slowly getting insane? Was he your stalker? But how could he even then have the same ridiculous clothes as you? Maybe he was some kind of soulmate? It sounded hilarious and absolutely mad but so was this situation.

It was short - maybe a split second - and your eyes met. Subconsciously you stepped closer towards the stranger, nearly ignoring the huge gap between you two. He saw you. It almost hit all the air out of you. There was something so familiar about him. Something so...so...unexplainable.

Suddenly your view got blocked and something roughly pulled you back, that you nearly fell right on your butt. Confused, you looked up just to see a mid aged man with a pair of round glasses on his nose. There was a disapproving look on his face, helping you stand straight again.

“Miss, you need to watch out. The train could have hit you.” His voice was stern, making you gasp in realisation with the train slowly coming to a stop in front of you. You really just forgot that you were on a train station. All you thought about was him. About going to him. You just wanted to know his name, having another conversation just between your eyes.

You quickly apologised and thanked the man before stepping inside the train, eyes searching for him. But he wasn’t there anymore. Your heart suddenly hurt - more than before. It was so strong. Where was he? You wanted to see him.

It was that moment when you realized you somehow, not knowing the reason, longed for this person. It was such a deep feeling, you never felt such a strong emotion before in your life. You wanted to cry.

Just as the doors were about to close, you caught a glimpse of a red hat and cheetah print coat right outside, where you just stood seconds before. You didn’t think much, you stood up running towards the door, frantically pushing the opening button again and again, but the doors were already closed. So so close. He was so close. But you couldn’t reach him. Why had you to enter this stupid train? He was right out there looking at you with these big brown eyes. It hurt your soul. He was so pretty. Oh you longed for one touch, one word. Why can’t you be with him?

Your hands were pressed against the cold glass, eyes never leaving his enchanting ones. But the train was already moving. It was too late.

A hand on your shoulder suddenly tore you out of your miserable state. Your heart was hurting so much by now. Why was it hurting so unbearably? “Is everything okay?” A woman with a child on her hand smiled at you sympathetically, offering you a warm hug after she saw the thick tears in your eyes, soon streaming down your warm cheeks.

Why felt it so thorning just to be with him? Why felt it like you just missed your only chance to ever meet him?

“It’s going to be okay.” The woman muttered under her breath, gently rubbing your back. “You are strong.”

The next day you woke up even earlier, almost not finding sleep at all that night. This feeling of lost and utterly sadness and hurt. You felt it ever since he was so close. Ever since you almost were by his side. This feeling never left you.

Today you felt just weak and so exhausted. You didn’t have the energy to go to work but you needed to see him again. One last time?

A white shirt with a pink sweater vest on top and a pair of loose white pants were your fit for today. Your mind wandered to the brown eyed boy as you chose the colourful item out of your wardrobe. It reminded you strangely of him.

With heavy heart, this time you trotted up the stairs, surprisingly noticing not a single soul at the platform. No one but him on the other side. You let out a sigh, you didn’t know you were holding. He was still here. You could’ve hit yourself with the realization that it was in fact Saturday, meaning you didn’t need to go to work today. It was silly of you, but deep down you still would’ve come for him. Only for him.

This time your eyes met immediately and your heart beat picked up. He gave you a bright smile and a tiny wave of his hand, making you nearly choke on air. He looked so pretty in the pink sweater vest, you were absolutely right. His hand was moving again, showing you to come over to him.

You gulped nervously. This was your time. No one would come between you this time. No life saving strangers, no wine bottles, no defect alarm clocks and definitely no trains. Without wasting any more time, now having found a sudden boost of energy, you sprinted down the stairs again, almost tripping over your own feet. You were gonna meet him. Finally.

When you reached the other side of the platform, you frantically looked around, searching for him. But he wasn’t there. You were standing right where he stood. You glanced over at the other side, where you were just coming from, seeing him standing there peacefully still with a smile on his face. He looked ethereal. The sun was on his side, making him glow in a heavenly way, you haven’t seen before. His brown fluffy hair was sweeping softly with the wind and his deep brown eyes sparkled with hope.

Suddenly it was as if your head hit a solid brick wall. Beomgyu. His name was Choi Beomgyu. Beombeom. Your dear Beombeom. How could you ever have forgotten him? The pain in your heart was now as strong as never before. You wanted to die, it was that painful. You fell onto the ground, clutching your heart desperately. Of course.

It was so contradicting. Hot tears were streaming down your face by now, the unbearable pain getting worse every second, yet Beomgyu seemed so peaceful, so calming and so sweet. You needed him for your heart to heal. He was the reason you were here. You needed him by your side.

He smiled and waved you over once again. He was waiting for you. You needed to get to him. With heavy breathing, you heaved yourself up one last time. You couldn’t just give up like that. “Beomgyu...” you screamed with all your energy, sobbing in pain. It was a heart wrenching moment to witness. Beomgyu on the other side nodded smiling, his eyes glistening as a single tear slipped down his cheek.

You couldn’t bear this pain anymore and started running. Right on the rail. You couldn’t care less at that moment. You needed Beomgyu.

You jumped down the ditch onto the track. You were almost there. Just a few more steps and you could touch him. Your heart was getting warmer and warmer. It felt so nice. So comforting. So familiar.

It all seemed to go so well but then it all happened so fast. It went wrong so fast. You could see Beomgyus hand reaching out for yours, just mere centimetres away. Then there was a bright light. A loud noice inside your ears, a shrill scream and an insufferable pain inside your head. It only lasted a split second and then everything was black. The last thing you’ve heard was Beomgyus warm voice calling your name. Then there was nothing.

——————————————————————————————————————————————

The next thing you remembered was a bright white light. Then there was a steady peeping noice. And lastly an extreme sterile scent. You already hated it. You longed for the same warmth you felt before, when you were about to be with him.

The first thing you remembered was coughing. Extremely harsh coughing. It was like you were coughing out your soul. You heard more voices, slowly getting clearer to hear, and saw shapes forming behind the bright light.

“Y/N, Y/N honey yn darling do you hear me? Y/N?” Y/N... that was your name. Right? You felt something soft yet ice cold touch for face, something wet touching your nose. Your mom, you thought. It was your mother’s voice.

Before you could realize anything, there were other voices, strange and familiar ones. As you finally could make up semi clear shapes, your eyes met a pair of circular glasses. A brighter light than before was now shining directly into your eyes but soon enough vanished again. You were still coughing.

“Y/N oh my gosh darling, honey, you are back. You made it.” You heard your mother cry besides you, grasping your weak arm as if it was her lifebuoy. “Thank you thank you thank you”

“Miss Y/L/N? Can you hear me?” A mid aged man behind the glasses asked you. You’ve barely managed to open your eyes and look around you, eyes meeting your mothers wet ones. A sob escaped her lips. Beside her you could make out a mob of pink hair. Your brother.

“Miss Y/L/N? Everything is all right. Very good.” A nurse in baby blue clothes spoke gently to you, as you started to gain back some control over your own breathing. You noticed something big inside your mouth, surpressing the urge to cough or vomit it out.

“One second Miss Y/L/N, I will now remove your breathing tube. It won’t hurt, just relax.” She patted your arm and made her way towards your face. A breathing tube? After a few moments you felt a weird sensation inside your throat as if something was pulled out. You immediately started coughing again once the tube was removed but slowly getting a hold of it again.

Yeonjun kneeled down besides your mother, gently taking your hand in his warm one. It was sort of comforting. He had tears in his eyes, eye bags clearly visible on both your mother’s and brothers face. What was going on? Why were they crying?

“All right there, here we go. Welcome back Miss Y/L/N, how are you feeling? Good?” You wanted to say something, your head still spinning, but could only make a hoarse sound, feeling just how sore your throat must have been.

“It’s okay you don’t need to answer yet. You still have a very sore throat due to the Intubation we had to put you through.” The man, you assumed doctor from his white coat, explained you patiently. You managed to nod but you were still trying to figure out the situation. You were more than confused. Why were you here and where was Beomgyu?

You tried speaking again but just a very strained “What-“ could be deciphered, followed by some coughing again. You were feeling weaker than ever and everything hurt.

The doctor nodded sympathetically, already knowing what you were about to ask. Your eyes wandered wordlessly to your brother’s and mom’s. They looked so hurt, yet relieved.

“Let me explain. You must have a lot of questions right now. We take everything slowly, alright?” You nodded again, Yeonjun slightly squeezing your hand. “You just woke up from a four week lasting coma as you previously had been rushed into hospital after a collision with a train.”

You noticed your mother sob harder than before, your brother gently laying an arm over her shoulder. “You tried to kill yourself Y/N...” Yeonjun whispered, heart breaking once more. It all came flooding back at once. Your head hurt at the sudden heavy feeling growing inside your breast, overtaking your heart in just seconds. You felt devestating.

Tears welled up in your eyes, remembering what you did, what you wanted so dearly and why you did it. You remembered the last seconds on the platform you were standing so often with Beomgyu, where he held you tight in his arms, where he softly told you he loved you, where you shared your first loving kiss and you both laughed afterwards at how clumsy you were being. And lastly, it was the place where Beomgyu died, where he found his bitter end at the tender age of 22.

Anger bubbled up inside you, remembering how he had died. He wanted to visit you with a beautiful bouquet of yellow flowers, as beautiful as him himself. You just aced your last exam of the semester, wanting nothing more than celebrate with your boyfriend of over two years. It had been your fault, hadn’t you just failed the exam, things would have been different. He wouldn’t have gotten to you by train at this hour, the drunk man wouldn’t have started a fight with him and Beomgyu wouldn’t have been pushed onto the tracks just before a train came rushing by. Beomgyu would have still lived. He would be with you on the couch, legs intertwined, stealing small kisses now and then and probably also a few bites of your snack. But something deep inside you told you that he still would have visited you, maybe to be there for you or maybe to just give you a hug.

Your heart stung painfully inside your chest. You wanted to forget again. You wanted to pull your damn heart out of your chest and throw it on these stupid train tracks. You hated how much it hurt.

You wanted to end it there. You’ve remembered it as clear as daylight. A life without Beomgyu seemed so impossible for you, you never could heal without him. He owned your heart and it was impossible to live without a heart. So you jumped. You were so sure. Even wrote letters for all your friends and family, the last one for Beomgyu, probably still laying on his grave stone. But why didn’t you make it? Why couldn’t you reunite with him? You saw him so clearly on the other side, dressed in his favorite pink sweater vest. Why had it to be him? He was so full of love.

“Beomgyu...” you whispered, painful sobs now tearing your heart apart once again. Yeonjun and your mother rushed to hug you as tight as they could, never leaving your side and crying with you.

This day wasn’t a day joy or freedom, no. It was far from that. It was a terrible, hurtful day. You missed Beomgyu more than ever before. You realized he was gone for good. And you were here.

But it was also a day full of comfort and understanding. You still thought about Yeonjuns quiet words besides your ear.

“I miss Beomgyu so fucking much as well. He didn’t deserve to go that early, I know. And it’s not your fault YN, remember that. He still loves you so so much and he is here with you, with us, every second. He didn’t want you to go from us that early as well, he protected you YN.” His hand payed over his heart, eyes fixated on yours, showing you how he meant every single word.

You nodded, your tears never ending. Yeonjun hugged you again. He firmly believed that Beomgyu saved you, so you believed it as well. He wouldn’t want you to end your life that easily, that pathetically while mourning over someone, who was instantly dead in just a split second. It wasn’t fair, no, it would never be.

And Beomgyu showed you in his own way that he not only loved you deeply and will forever, he also teaches you so much in life: joy, love, anger, sadness, overwhelming sadness and how to live life the fullest.

He will always be in your heart, no matter how much time will go by, and you will be forever thankful towards the brown eyed boy, who taught you how to love, live and leave. Your dear Beombeom.

[navegandoaciegas]

California Bound.

Pairing: Bucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: smut, yandere, homeless!bucky, stalking, home intrusion, obsession, loneliness, sad!bucky, disturbing thoughts, dubcon? This is a dark fic.

Words: 4k

Summary: You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell. Bucky is tired of being alone and invisible and he knows you are too. He knows you can mend each other's’ hearts. 

A/N: set after CA:TWS. I’m not a native speaker so forgive me for any mistakes. Please let me know what you think and like and reblog if you liked it :) feedback is always appreciated!

In the unstable state of his scattered mind he can vividly recall a woman in a red dress. 

Some memories are long gone, some are fragmented, and although the lines of her face have been blurred by the passing of time and decades of electrocution, her plump red lips are permanently burned in the back of his brain.

When he closes his eyes, sometimes, he can still see her smile. 

Only she’s not smiling at him.

She’s smiling at Steve, his brother, his friend, his mission. 

Not even seventy years of brainwashing and torture could get rid of the sadness that filled him when she walked past and ignored him as if he wasn’t there, as if nothing else in that room existed except for Steve.

In his memory she doesn’t see him, and nobody has since. 

Perhaps it’s in that moment that he became no one, in that moment he was condemned to an existence of pain, loneliness and invisibility.

He’s a ghost that haunts the dirty streets of Philadelphia, crouched behind the dumpsters of dark alleys, begging the ones who sneer at him for spare change in train stations, lurking in the shadows to pickpocket the rich passerbys of the city.

  The hormone suppressants HYDRA forced on him are wearing off.

He can feel himself slipping, his most primal instincts violently surging back after 70 years of being repressed. His brain goes haywire when he catches sight of a pair of legs clad in a short skirt, the blood draining from his brain and travelling straight to his cock, and he wills himself to restrain his urges.

Modern women are so pretty, and they wear so little clothes. They don’t see him, of course, but he sees them. 

He sees those tight little dresses, those high heels, those long lashes and bright lips.

In another life he could have been like one of the rich boys he often spots outside of clubs, well dressed and well groomed, and maybe those pretty girls would have fawned over him too.

But not in this life.

In this life he’s been alone for 70 years, and his loneliness consumes him so intensely that some nights, when the cold is unbearable and the streets are empty, he wishes he hadn’t been born at all.

In this life he doesn’t shower and shave for weeks on end, and his hair is so greasy and matted that even if he wasn’t in hiding he’d have to wear a baseball cap anyways. When he looks at himself in the mirror he barely recognizes the handsome soldier in a blue uniform he saw at the Smithsonian. The man who stares back at him in the mirrors of soiled public restrooms has deep frown lines on his forehead, dark circles under dull eyes and a patch of white hair on his beard. Only the startling blue of his eyes has stood the test of time.

Those pretty girls wouldn’t spare him a second glance.

 He’s tired of the loneliness that plagues him. He just wishes to be seen.

He wants someone to look at him, really look at him, in anything other that pity or disgust. He wants someone who could hold him at night and take care of his battered soul.

He wants a companion to spend his time with, someone he could talk to; when was the last time he uttered a single word? When was the last time someone touched him tenderly?

You’d think after all he’s been through that being alone would be a walk in the park in comparison, but the emptiness that eats him alive is the most unbearable torture he’s ever been subjected to. It took HYDRA 20 years to break him, it only took the loneliness a couple of months.

  He just wants someone.

Someone who sees him.

And you do. You see him.

 He’s hunched over in a recess in the wall of an alley, violently shaking. The ground beneath him is frozen, the strong winds are like a slap in the face and the heavy-duty winter jacket he was able to steal isn’t doing much to protect him from the harsh weather. Maybe he won’t survive tonight, he almost dares to hope.

He’s still crying when he spots a pair of crisp white sneakers coming his way, and he looks up. He’s seen you around a couple of times, you’re one of the pretty girls who short circuit his brain.

You’re wearing a bright yellow winter jacket and black jeans. You look young, but he can’t tell how young. People nowadays age different than they used to back then. You’re probably way younger than him, although he has no idea exactly how old he is; he was 27 when he went to war, how much has he aged? How young is too young for a man with no age?

The light of the lamps behind you diffuses a soft halo around your body. You shine on your own light, brighter than the sun; you’re an angel so beautiful, so perfect that he doesn’t know if you’re a figment of his imagination.

You crouch down and hand him a bunch of blankets and a warm cup of something, maybe tea? When he grabs it his fingers brush against yours and it sends a jolt of electricity down his spine. He expects you to grimace in disgust at his touch, but you don’t. You smile.

You smile at him.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel the cold anymore, he only feels the warm tingling in his stomach. 

He smiles back, or at least he tries. He hasn’t smiled since World War II, as Nazis didn’t give him a lot of reasons to, to be honest. 

And just like you appeared, you’re gone in a heartbeat.

But he can’t simply let you go like that, so he resolves to summon back the Asset’s stealth and gets up to follow you.

That night when he closes his eyes the smile he sees belongs to you.

-

   They say even your worst day only lasts 24 hours; too bad your worst day has become your worst year so far.

They also say when you reach rock bottom the only way to go is up. They lied about that too.

Somehow today you’ve been scraping the bottom of the pit you’re in and have dug yourself even deeper than the lowest you could get.

You want to say your day can’t get any worse than this, but you know there’s always room for worsening.

The feeble March sun shines through the clouds and you’re dreading the flight of stairs that awaits you since your landlord categorically refuses to have the lift fixed. By the time you get to your door you’re exhausted and can’t wait to shower the day away and lounge on your couch.

 You open up the door to your apartment and get inside in a rush, only to stop dead in your tracks when you notice something is off about your home. There’s an eerie stillness about the open space, and maybe you’re going crazy but it seems like some of your things are not where you’d left them.

Apparently you just unlocked a lowest level to rock bottom.

It takes you a couple of seconds to register it, but when you do the hair on the back of your neck stand up and your brain screams danger at you.

There’s a smell inside that is not yours. It’s the strong, manly smell of sweat, and it wouldn’t be entirely unpleasant if it weren't for the fact that you live alone and don’t usually have men over.

 You never think it’s going to happen to you until it does.

You took self defense in college, you carry pepper spray with you, you always thought if you were in danger you’d be able to defend yourself, or at least bolt away.

They never tell you that fear is paralyzing. They don’t tell that the anticipation of pain roots you on the spot, that your legs feel like they’re made of lead and all you can do is wait for the impact to come. They don’t tell you that the dread that chills the blood in your veins can break the most primal of mechanisms humans have, and the fight or flight response you were counting on to save you abandons you too

When it happens, you don’t even hear it coming; there’s a prickle at the base of your neck and, before you descend into the darkness, two arms envelope you, and you feel the ghost of a kiss on your shoulder.

-

  You try to peel your eyes open when a hand delicately caresses your cheek and lingers on your lips. Your eyelids are heavy, your head is pounding like you’re having the worst hangover in you life and your whole body is aching. You want to speak, you want to shake that hand away, but you are unmoving. 

It reminds you of the medicine induced hallucination you used to have, which were an inconvenient side effect of the same prescription drugs that were supposed to help you sleep. It feels like a sleep paralysis, minus the demon sitting on your stomach. 

-

 You’re slipping in and out of consciousness when you hear it. There’s a voice speaking.

You suppose whoever it belongs to is talking to you. You strain your ears and will yourself to concentrate real hard, despite your brain pulsing in your skull and threatening to burst out.

The voice definitely belongs to a man, and whoever he is, he sounds very soft spoken and polite. Too bad he broke into your house and drugged you.

“So pretty, so perfect for me.”

“We won’t ever be lonely anymore, I promise you that.”

“...cleaned up real good for you...”

“...can’t wait for you to wake up.”

It’s all you can make out in your drowsy state. He peppers your forehead and the crown of your head with soft kisses. There’s two strong arms holding you. You fall back asleep.

-

  The sun shines brightly through the curtains of your bedroom and you want to flip the universe off for lining up the morning rays directly onto your face, and yourself for forgetting to draw the blinds.

You almost cuss yourself out for being yet again late for work when the events of the previous evening rush back to you. You wake with a jolt and you feel terror enveloping you when you see him. 

Fear grips your throat and you want to scream, you want to thrash about and punch him, and yet all you can do is look at him with wide eyes.

You feel your chest heaving but it’s almost like it doesn’t belong to you, it’s not happening to you, it can’t; you breathe but the air won’t reach your lungs. 

The man detects your distress and sits next to you. He carefully reaches for your hand and places on his chest, over his heart.

You are immobile.

You hate yourself for it. You wish you could do something about this but your stupid brain refuses to cooperate.

“Calm down baby, I’m not here to hurt you.” says the guy who gave you morphine. “Concentrate on my breathing, ‘kay? Inhale, hold your breath- good, now exhale, and again.”

He guides you through a breathing exercise that suggests you it may not be the first time he’s had to calm himself or others from an almost panic attack. The steady beat of his heart calms you down.

“Don’t cry, please.” he pleads with you.

You’re back at it again with the inappropriate thoughts for someone who’s been kidnapped and might get killed in the next few minutes, but you can’t not think how handsome your captor is.

He’s got dark hair gathered up in an elastic at the nape of his neck. His jawline is sharp and his cheekbones high. His eyes are the bluest you’ve ever seen, his lips look soft and pink and his nose is small and cute for a man so chiselled and intimidating.

“I promise I won’t hurt you.” he tells you, and smiles almost shyly at you.

There’s a look on his face that should reassure you, because it means that you won’t die today, but it can only mean you’re doomed to something maybe worse than death. 

His expression is tender, like you’re the most precious thing in the world. He seems so affectionate, so loving, that for a moment you wish this was real, you wish your former partners would have looked at you so devotedly.

He takes your hand in his again and traces soothing pattern with his thumb. 

Finally you seem to snap back to reality.

“Who are you?” You manage to squeak out. Your throat is on fire, and you’re grateful for the water bottle he hands over to you.

He frowns and seems to think about it until he manages to mumble a “My name is Bucky.”

He hesitates over his name like it doesn’t really belong to him.

You’re puzzled as to why you’re so calm. You’ve never been a feisty one, that’s true; you spent your life conforming to rules, you always complied to orders because you like to be praised and you hate to disappoint. As a child you feared punishments, being grounded, the look of dissatisfaction on your parents’ faces more than anything else in the world.

But you never imagined you’d be striking a conversation with the intruder in your house like it was an everyday occurrence. 

It only takes a look to understand that you can’t outrun the guy, nor overpower him. He’s built like a bulldozer and his biceps are bigger than you. He said he wouldn’t hurt you, and as absurd as it sounds you believe him, but it doesn’t mean you’d come out unscathered if you tried to fight him.

Maybe you could outsmart him? Comply until he trusts you and then take off?

“I’ve been watching you.”  Oh shit . “You saved my life.”

You can’t stop the remark from escaping your lips. “A thank you would have sufficed, you know, no need to kidnap me and all.” 

You weren’t feisty, sure, but that didn’t mean you weren’t a snarky bitch.

The guy chuckles, and it seems like his own amusement surprises you both alike.

“Two months ago, back in January. I was freezing to death. You came and gave me blankets and tea. It warmed me enough to survive the night. I knew back then you were perfect.”

Oh, God . The one time you decided to be a good citizen and gave the blankets you hogged in your cubicle at work to the homeless guy that was always crouched in the back alley of your office building, then one you’d see when you sneaked out the back to smoke on company time.

You almost don’t recognize him. 

“You’re just like me in a way. I saw you so sad all this time, you hate your job, you’re always alone. I saw you cry because you feel so lonely. I know that it feels like. I’ve been alone for so long.” He whispers the last part softly, and your heart clenches because it’s true, you’re so damn lonely, but you can recognize the loneliness in his eyes too. He cradles your face in his hands. “But I promise you won’t be alone anymore. You got me now.”

“I don’t know- I-I don’t even know you. Please just let me go, I promise I won’t tell anyone. Please don’t hurt me.” You start to plead with him and your words get swallowed by the sobs that shake you. Your heartbeat picks up again. 

You know fear now, the real one, but it pales in comparison of the one you feel when the implication of his words starts to sink in.

He just smiles at you. 

“What do you want?” you manage to whisper.

“You. We’re going to be happy I promise. I read the notes on your phone where you wrote you wanted to travel, remember that?” You nod weakly, recalling the depressive entry about how stuck your boring life is and the bucket list of all the places you’d want to visit.

“We’re going to travel, I’ll take you wherever you want. Just don’t leave me please, be with me.”

You almost ask with what money since you’re homeless my guy, but then a thought strikes you.

You won’t miss your boring life the moment it will slip away from you; you won’t miss being stuck alone in a city you despise doing a job you hate. You won’t miss the homesickness. You won’t miss berating yourself for accepting a job immediately post grad in a city on the other side of America, just because you were scared of being left behind, of being that one person who ends up with no job after college and has to move back to their parents house.

Maybe, had you stayed in your hometown, or accepted that other position in Austin, maybe this shit wouldn’t have happened to you. You’ll never know.

He pulls you into a hug and you’re so startled your crying subsizes. 

He shushes you and coos you while rocking you in his arms. “It’s okay baby, I promise you’re going to like it, you don’t have to worry about a thing, I got it all sorted out for you.”

You’re shocked.

He pushes you down on the bed and as your mind elaborates the worst case scenario possible and as you’re on the verge of another panic attack, he simply envelops you in his arms and puts his head on your chest. 

You’re stunned again.

Almost on instinct you wrap your own smaller arms around his shoulders and he sighs contentedly. You’re so touch starved and desperate for affection that even hugging your stalkers feels kinda nice.

You haven’t touched anyone and no one has touched you in such fondness in almost a year. Hook-ups don’t count. 

You’re so lonely and isolate in this city that if you died your neighbours wouldn’t even notice, your colleagues wouldn’t care and your boss would probably be pissed that you didn’t put in your two weeks notice before you went to hell.

 Lost in thought you only notice he’s about to kiss you when it’s too late.

At first he hesitantly pecks your lips, and then he’s trying to pry your mouth open with his tongue. You don’t know what possesses you to do it but you part your lips.

He’s uncertain on how to move around, like he doesn’t know how to kiss or he’s forgetten how, he has absolutely no idea where to put his hands, and it’s honestly kind of awkward.

You imagine this is what it’s like to kiss a middle schooler.

He pulls away and blushes. “Sorry, it’s been a while.”

You’re stunned yet again.

He’s not apologizing for stalking you, breaking in and drugging you, but because he’s a bad kisser?

He slants his mouth against yours again, this time more forcefully than before. And after almost choking you when he pushes his tongue so deep it would have reached your tonsils hadn’t you had them removed, he seems to get the gist of it, or maybe the muscle memory kicks back in, because even if you won’t admit it to yourself, it feels nice.

You feel sick and twisted but it’s good to have someone desire you, touch you so tenderly, kiss you so passionately. The guys you use to entertain yourself in your solitude never kiss you while they fuck you into oblivion. You forgot how comforting the weight of a warm body on yours is.

You don’t push him away until you feel your t-shirt rip.

His hands explore your body ignoring your pleads to stop.

He’s nowhere and everywhere all at once. One hand squeezes your ass and the other kneads your breasts while he leaves open mouthed, hungry kisses down your throat, until he reaches the soft skin between your neck and clavicles and starts sucking in like a man possessed. You automatically jerk forward and buckle your hips until they touch his and he lets out a groan that travels straight to your already dripping core. 

You hate yourself for it, but you’ve never been this aroused.

You hate yourself for giving in so effortlessly, for being so damn weak, so damn lonely.

It’s mortifying how easy you’re making this for him. 

Your mind tries to will your body to push him from you, but instead of shoving him away your hands grab his shoulder and pull him closer.

You hate yourself because when he dips his hand in your soaked panties as he suckles on your nipple, your body doesn’t even try to protect you. 

You’re at his mercy as he pushes his long fingers through your folds and smears your arousal around, before dipping them inside.

“All this for me, pretty girl?” 

Cocky bastard.

He moans in your mouth as he grinds his hips on your leg and you feel the extent of his manhood. 

“So pretty, so perfect, so good for me.”

It shouldn’t feel this good, but again you’ve been a slut for praise since you came out the womb. You moan and whine in pleasure and he’s clearly very proud of himself for being the one who elicits these sounds from you. His thumb finds your bud and massages it, sending jolts of unadulterated pleasure down your spine.

You’re trembling under his touch. Your legs are shaking, toes curling, and you can’t stop yourself from moaning louder what you ever have. You can feel the familiar tightness in your core that precedes an orgasm, but you need more.

“Please Bucky, please. Faster.” you whine, ashamed of yourself for pleading like that. 

You’re so lost in your own pleasure you don’t notice the look of hunger that crosses Bucky’s face at the mention of his name. He never thought he’d be able to give you so much, he never knew his hand could bring anything other than pain and destruction, but his name sounds so sweet on your tongue.

“Cum pretty girl, cum all over my fingers for me, I know you can.”

And you do. You cum so hard your vision goes black for a second as you lose yourself to the pleasure that travels from your core to the rest of your body.

You’re floating, so dazed that you barely notice he’s undressed you and taken off his pants. When you feel something prod at your entrance, you look down in horror only to find him already lined up with you.

He’s got the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, and it’s so big, so thick you’re scared he’s going to rip you apart. He doesn’t give you time to react before he’s slamming inside of you.

The scream that rips out of you is animalistic, and he stills.

“God you’re so tight, clamping down on me.” He grunts in you ear as he sets a slow pace.

The pain soon subsides and gives place to more pleasure than you’ve ever felt in your life. He picks up the pace when you stretch around his girth painlessly, and rolls his hips around.

“So good for me.”

“Mine, only mine.”

“My good girl.”

“Taking me so well.”

“Gonna fill you up so good.”

“Fuck, you feel incredible.”

Your pussy clamps down on his cock with each praise he grunts in your ear. You’re so overstimulated and he’s so vocal that you feel like you’re about to burst when you cum again and again for what feels like an eternity, before his movements become sloppier and messier.

You cum once more when he swells inside of you, and you feel the tell-tale sensation of fullness when he fills you up with his cum.

He collapses on you, panting. 

You’re both satisfied and spent.

He kisses you once more, on your lips, and it’s so sweet and tender that you almost cry because you know deep down you couldn’t take one more day of solitude.

His voice is deep and hoarse when he speaks again.

“How ‘bout we start with California?”

[secret-engima]

Team Gremlin verse: The Reunion

(So this is ... a very rough draft so to speak of what I wanna do for the reunion scene with Oscar and Ozpin. I’m not dubbing it ‘canon’ yet because I’d have to wait for the actual fic to catch up and then tweak accordingly but so far- this is what is in my head and I figured I should let others enjoy the angst :D)

...

     Ozpin slipped away from the crowd exiting the tent with a pounding heart. He could feel his fingers shake on the hilt of Long Memory as he managed to duck into the shadows outside the large emerald and gold tent. He had found him. All this time searching, all this time praying and hoping and looking only to be too late and he had found him. He had sat in the stands and seen the boy in action, heard the music and seen the magic both fake and real, and felt the sheer energy and joy the little Ringmaster felt in his performance like lightning in Ozpin’s own bones. And then- the song. The final song. Because Oscar always rounded off with a song, ones not meant for spectacle, but instead for the heart. A sincere wish and message for those fortunate to sit beneath the ceiling of the Emerald City for the night.

     The song alone could have brought him to tears. But to hear it sung by the little boy in the ring, the impossible, wonderful, miracle child who had every right to lash out at the world in hate, yet instead chose to fill it with wonders … it had been all he could do to keep from crying with there in the stands. To not try to climb down the makeshift seating and into the ring because all he’d wanted was to hold him.

     His son. The son he had never seen outside of grainy photos and shaky recordings, who he had tried desperately to find the more he learned what the child had lived through. And now Ozpin had found him. Now Ozpin had a chance to meet him. He just had to get backstage.

     It wasn’t hard to escape the eyes of the crowd, and it wasn’t much more difficult to slip through the shadows to the little ring of emerald tents set up behind the big top, the tents where the various performers of the rare and popular Emerald City act stayed. He hesitated on the boundary, trying to pick out which one of the colorful, green-themed tents belonged to the Ringmaster —his son, his child that he had never gotten to meet, would never have known about save a series of accidents—. He heard laughter and activity behind him, the performers returning to their temporary homes, and he ducked forward into the shadows of a tent at random. They would run him off if they found him, he was certain of that. He was a stranger to them at best, or worse, a known player in the war that had created the boy he hoped to meet, that had no doubt hurt many of those who followed him —such as Hazel, and how the man had ever been swayed from Salem’s promise of revenge, Ozpin could not fathom but did not want to test—.

     He heard no activity from the tent he was hiding behind, and while the air whispered with hints of magic, it wasn’t coming from this tent, so he moved on to another. This time, he dared peak into the tent flap, but saw nothing but the vague shadows of personal belongings. No sign of the little Ringmaster —his son, his child—.

     Ozpin backed away from that tent, heart drumming anxiously in his chest. Then he turned and froze.

     The massive Grimm, the strange one that Qrow called Hound. The monster that for some reason Ozpin never wanted to contemplate —but had spent many hours doing just that— followed his son everywhere. Behaved like it was tame and natural rather than a creature of Darkness that longed only for destruction. It stood just a few feet away, so large it’s head was even with Ozpin’s chin as it watched him with flat, glowing red lights for eyes.

     His fingers tightened on the hilt of Long Memory, lifetimes of instinct screaming to raise his weapon and attack first before it could kill him or anyone else here. But he had seen recordings of this same Grimm, dressed up in ridiculous costumes to hide its true nature from unpracticed eyes, parading around in the circus ring like a big dog. He had seen his son ride on its back and balance on its head and Qrow had recounted more than one instance of Oscar and the other children escaping on its back. It hadn’t been present for this particular show, but he had seen multiple recordings of previous ones where it entered the ring and no one had been harmed. Of course, Ozpin’s son —Salem’s son, for all the second half of that coin tore at his guts— had been close by all those times, but here there was no one in sight but the two of them.

     The Grimm tilted its head slowly to one side, a ragged ear pricking like an actual dog’s. It wasn’t attacking. Even though Ozpin knew he must stink of so many different types of fear he could attract an entire pack of Beowolves all on his own. It just … studied him.

     Slowly, it’s jaws opened, and Ozpin prepared to dodge some attack. Instead, the large, blood red tongue slid out from between massive teeth and lolled there, a slow, thoughtful trio of pants before it licked its teeth and shut its jaws again. Without any further reaction, it lowered its head and turned away, walking slow and ponderously toward one of the tents that had light peaking through the bottom. Ozpin watched it leave with a blank, confused mind, then startled when it stopped and twisted around to look over its shoulder at him.

     It looked like it was waiting.

     It looked like it wanted him to follow.

     Inhaling raggedly —this was the stupidest thing he had done in lifetimes he was sure—, Ozpin started following in the Grimm’s footsteps.

     It led him to the tent farthest from the bigtop, nudged open the flap with something like practiced ease, and shouldered its way in. Ozpin lingered outside, suddenly too afraid to go a step further. There was a Grimm in there, but somehow, the realization that his son might be in there was even more terrifying than that. If he stood out here too long, he would be caught, he knew that, and yet…

     “Hey, Sondor,” murmured a voice through the tent fabric and Ozpin’s world crystalized, “Everything alright? You left in a bit of a hurry.” A deep rumble, inhuman and bass and … oddly content sounding. The voice —a child’s voice, a gentle voice, a voice he’d just heard laughing and waxing dramatic for a show of fake magic and real mysteries— laughed faintly, “Checking on someone then? You know everyone has to stay up late on performance nights.”

     If he held on any tighter to his cane, he thought it might shatter, but the feel of it grounded him like it always had, and with the last bit of courage he possessed in this lifetime, he pushed the tent flap open and slipped inside as the voice —his son— finished saying, “We’ll be sure to take long naps in the morning.”

     Ozpin was here. He was standing in the same space as his child, without a crowd to be wary of or a performance to keep them apart. He was standing in some kind of makeshift workshop, with a cot on the floor on the far side and the vast majority of space taken up by a battered, foldable metal table that seemed to be a desk and all the tools of a magician’s trade. Cards and wands and hats, gloves and fanciful outfits and a hundred thousand other things that didn’t matter, because amid all the mess, with his back mostly to the entrance and a massive Grimm lying contentedly next to his feet, was the Ringmaster.

     His child.

     The Grimm raised its head again to stare at him, a low noise he’d never heard the monsters make before rumbling from its chest, and the boy tilted his head toward the tent entrance absently, still not looking away from the Dust gem he was setting in his elaborate cane, “Hey Neo, you’re back early. I thought you were still scoping … out…” he finished setting the Dust in his cane, looked up and saw Ozpin standing there. Neither of them moved. Green-gold eyes in a young face —he looked ten had Qrow really been correct on estimating his age closer to twelve or thirteen?— went wide, and the magic passively swirling through the tent shrunk in on itself until he couldn’t feel it.

     It occurred belatedly to Ozpin that while he had essentially been stalking his son for the last few years in an attempt to meet him and make sure he was okay, the boy wouldn’t know him at all. Or worse, had only heard of him from people who hated him —from Salem herself even—. And now Ozpin had just shown up in the boy’s living space without warning or invitation.

     Terror and nerves tangled up all the words he wanted to say, all the ones he’d longed to say, and instead he found himself folding both of his shaking hands on the pommel of his cane and bleating out the first, most habitual line currently living in his brain, “Hello, I’m Professor Ozpin-.”

     A shout, loud and gutted, and all his words died in his throat again as the boy threw himself off his little camp chair and at Ozpin. Long Memory clattered to the ground unnoticed as Ozpin instinctively raised his hands to wrap around the little body that collided with his waist, slender arms tightening like a vise around him and Ozpin couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe-.

     Had he really said-?

     A hiccuping sob from the child in his arms, a fully body thing that shook him from his tousled black hair to his shoes while that word spun endlessly in Ozpin’s mind, haunting him and confusing him because he couldn’t have heard that right. He couldn’t have heard…

     “Dad.”

     The word echoed between them again, muffled by a young face buried in his suit jacket, and Ozpin felt his own breath start to stammer as he clung tighter to the boy in his arms, sinking down to his knees despite the screaming in his leg and burying his face in flyaway black hair, “I’m here.” He choked out, “I’m right here. I’ve got you. You’re alright. I’m right … I’m right here.”

     Magic pressed against his skin, burrowed into his soul, needy and desperate and fearful in a way his daughters’ had never been until the very end —until the moment his shield broke and he could no longer protect them—. It begged him and Ozpin forgot about everything else, forgot every other concern or person in the world as he let his own magic unspool and twine with the younger, needy magic begging him for comfort. Behind his closed eyelids he could see it, the colors spinning and twisting in the space between their souls. His ever-dwindling green wrapping around a younger, deeper, stronger wellspring of emerald laced with snapping red, whispering black and dancing flickers of purple, gold, blue, and white.

     The younger magic coiled tightly in his, desperate and pained, crying in relief and fear just as loudly as the sobs that shook his son’s body. It was open to him, painfully open and raw, trusting despite how this boy had every reason to fear another’s magic. In the breath between crying and comforting and accepting, Ozpin’s magic brushed up against what could only be called a crack in his child’s soul. A jagged old wound that had never properly healed. Glass sharp and weeping and-.

     Pain-pain-pain-fear-fear-please-pleasedon’tleavedon’tleaveme-.

     Magic, green and old, bodiless and desperate and half-mad with agony sinking inside and locking in place in a message that screamed all the way down to bone marrow and soul fiber.

    Mine-my-child-I-love-you-I-loveyoumychildmy-

     “Oscar.” Ozpin choked out, struggling to shake off the remnants of memory hidden in soul shards and old wounds. Realization reeled, pulled at the fabric of reality beneath his feet. “Oscar,” he repeated, rolling the name of his son over his tongue and wondering at the sensation of right, of familiarity even though he had never met this child before. He had, of course, known his name. The boy made a little joke of it at the beginning of all his performances, but now the name had weight. Had an echo of knowledge to it that he couldn’t quite grasp.

     Even though, somehow, his son knew him. And perhaps that should terrify him. Because his son was a child still, yet somewhere in the spaces between incarnations, or in the moments between life and death and dreams, his child remembered him and clung to a message of love even though it had been tangled up in so much pain.

     “I tried,” Oscar sobbed into his chest, “I tried, I’m- I’m so sorry-.”

     Ozpin hushed him, ran shaking fingers through his son’s hair and ignored the way his glasses had completely blurred over from the tears they caught, “I know. It’s alright. You’re alright. You’re alive, Oscar.” He guided his son’s face to his scarf and pressed his cheek against the top of Oscar’s head, “You’re alive. That’s all that matters to me.” He inhaled raggedly and set aside the spinning theories trying to take root, the odd mix of age-youth-age and time-turned-back in Oscar’s magic that made him wonder. He had long assumed that Oscar’s aging was … strange, a byproduct of being the child of two immortals. Yet feeling Oscar’s magic, the soft echo of bells and clockwork gears hidden inside it, he couldn’t help but remember that gravity and its magic was an aspect of space and space was a partner of time. There had been spells that toyed with time long ago that left impressions on the souls that used them, though never on such a large scale as what Ozpin was contemplating.

     But if anyone could reinvent a way to turn back the hands of the world’s clock, it would be the child of Ozma and Salem, surely —had his son known a previous incarnation, or had his son met Ozpin himself in the future, had he lived a prisoner of Salem until he was a teen or even an adult, only meeting his father to see him die in agony at his mother’s hands, had a single dying message of love amid a lifetime of darkness truly been enough to make him fight time itself to make things right—.

     But that didn’t matter right now.

     He was here. Oscar was here. They were both alive and safe and his little boy was tucked trustingly in his arms, and that was what mattered right now. It mattered more than anything else in the world.

     “I love you, Oscar,” he whispered into his son’s hair as he rocked them back and forth, uncaring of his jacket and scarf becoming soaked with tears, or the way Oscar’s magic coiled around his soul so tightly it was almost burning, “I love you. I’m here.”

     “I missed you,” Oscar choked out between sobs, another piece to Ozpin’s puzzle set aside for later times, “I love y-you t-too.” A hiccup, loud and ugly, a shiver in Ozpin’s arms, “Don’t go.”

     “I won’t,” Ozpin promised, hand cradling the back of Oscar’s head, trying to shield him from the nightmares he could sense lurking within, “I won’t go. I’m right here.” He exhaled wetly, “I’m right here.”

[flooffybits]

Nothing Wrong

Idol: Son Hyejoo (Loona)

marshmallow: hey! i was wondering if you could write something about closeted non binary reader feeling more dysphoric than usual with hyejoo? hyejoo had noticed how depressed they've looked and how they've constantly stayed in their room for the past week so she's beyond confused. the reader decides it's unfair for both of them to keep her in the dark, even though being out of the binary gender is taboo in korea, so they tell her. angst with a fluffy ending but only if you're comfy with writing it:) tysm!!

Warning: feeling of dysphoria, mentions of nbphobia

A/n: to all my non-binary and trans readers/followers or anyone in that matter, please know that you are very much valid and appreciated. you are loved and i hope that you continue to have strength in all the hardships that you go through

☕buy me a coffee☕

Her eyes follow you when you groggily walk back to your room after grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge, her brows pinched together in worry when she notices the dark bags under your eyes and how your steps seemed heavy with every one you took back to the safety of your room.

Her lips turn into a frown as she lowers the controller, setting it beside her before she stood up, carefully padding to your room, but she stops right outside, peeking in to see your curled up figure on the bed.

Hesitantly, she raps her knuckles against the open door, just to seek your permission in case you didn’t want her bothering you. But you did leave the door open for her in case she needed anything.

“Y/n?” Watching as you roll over to face her, your girlfriend’s worries grow when she sees how exhausted you are, eyes weary and looking so defeated that she doesn’t know what to do.

“What is it?”

Even the sound of your voice was worrisome. While she was used to you being the more talkative one between you, she’s never heard you sounding quite this weak, it reminded her of when your pet had died and you were nothing but a mess for at least three days.

But it’s been a week and you seemed much worse compared to then.

Hyejoo purses her lips before she looked around, not wanting to seem too annoying before asking. “Can I come in?” She asks and you blink at her, and for a moment the weariness leaves your face as you pat the space next to you, arms opening up for her and she feels relieved to know that she’s not the root of your current state.

She joins you in bed, her arms quickly finding your waist and nuzzling her head into your hair, sighing at the familiar scent of your shampoo. You both just lay there for a few minutes while she tries to come up of something to say whilst you were pulled back into your thoughts.

“... Do you want to talk about it?”

You were a bit surprised as she initiated the conversation, but looking at Hyejoo’s worried expression made you remember that she didn’t really know what it was that you were going through or what it was you were feeling.

While you did trust her a lot, you weren’t too confident on how she would be reacting to you telling her that you were non-binary. And that was one of the reasons you’ve been feeling so down lately.

She was understanding. That much was clear, and she most definitely cared for you, if coming in to check up on you instead of playing her games like usual wasn’t enough proof of it.

Somehow, just somewhere in your head, there was a shroud of doubt that was slowly but gradually making itself known and you weren’t sure how to properly tackle it.

Testing the waters, you wanted to first come to your family about it, but that was most likely what led to the present and suddenly, your thoughts ran and ran, making you forget about your girlfriend until she gently placed a warm hand against your cheek, her thumb brushing under your eye as a tear unknowingly slipped down your cheek.

“I want to help you... but I need you to let me before I can do that.” She whispered, brows knitting together in worry as she held you closer and you were able to snap out of your inner turmoil before finally looking up at her again, lower lip trembling before you sucked in a deep breath.

She offers a comforting smile, kissing your forehead as her fingers carded through your hair. “Take your own pace, it’s okay.” Her voice is soft, gentle, and you could feel yourself calming slightly before you finally nodded your head.

She didn’t know. And you really shouldn’t let what your parents told you assume that she would say the same.

It was only fair.

“I visited my parents last week.” You mutter and she listens attentively, humming to let you know that she was paying attention to every word. “I’ve been meaning to tell them and you about it but I...” Your heart stutters and you lick your lips before clenching your fists.

“I asked them what they would feel if I ever told them that I was n-non-binary...” You hold your breath as the words come out, expecting her to react, but she doesn’t, allowing you to finish your story and you’re a little relieved by that.

But as you recall your parents’ reactions, that relief is gone in a flash and your chest feels heavy as you choke out the memory. “T-They told me to stop talking nonsense. They said that there were only two genders and nothing else, s-so I didn’t...” Hyejoo didn’t need you to say the whole thing, squeezing you in an attempt to calm you down as you tried to suppress a sob.

The encounter had only left you with a bitter taste in your mouth, pretending that you were someone that you weren’t and you just couldn’t help but feel like you could ever really be yourself no matter how much you wanted to.

Since that day, you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without feeling like the person you were seeing was a completely different person that only wore your face.

“I couldn’t tell them that I am non-binary, and I hate it so much because I told myself that I would stop lying about who I am, especially to the people I care about.”

She could understand now, why you’ve been shutting yourself out, hiding from the world and just overall looking as though your soul had left your body and left it to act on autopilot.

Your family mattered so much to you and she knew how much you cared about them. So to have your parents talk so carelessly about who you were, she knows just how much it was affecting you.

But it was only to an extent because she didn’t know what exactly it was you were going through.

Instead, she keeps you against herself, kissing your head and rubbing your back to soothe you, letting you cry all the sadness out of you because she knows that you’ve been holding all of this in since it started.

She had to take a moment to collect her thoughts, trying to think of which she wanted to address first, but eventually, her lips part and you hear her quiet voice as she tries her best to understand what you were feeling.

“I’m always going to love you, Y/n.” While you had expected her to say something else, those simple words seemed to have calmed you enough to reduce your sobs into quiet sniffles as she continues. “What your parents said, I can see how much it hurts you, and I wish that they were a bit more open-minded and sensitive about it, but please know that whether or not they accept you, I’m always going to be here for you.”

She presses her hand gently against the small of your back, tracing random patterns to help calm you down as you listen to her speak. “It doesn’t make you any less human. And I hate how you’ve been hurting so much like this - doubting yourself, questioning yourself when you don’t even have to.”

She purses her lips before letting out a gentle sigh. “You’re fine just the way you are. There’s nothing wrong with you. There’s nothing you have to change because you’re just you. You’re only discovering parts of you that you didn’t know that you had in the first place, that doesn’t make you different from me, your parents, or anyone else out there. You’re you and no one can ever change you or even tell you do to so.”

While she didn’t understand what it was like to have her parents reject her the way yours did, she decided to focus on what positivity she can give rather than focus on what caused you to be like this.

Of course, it would take a while to recover from your parents’ hurtful words, but she’s there to remind you that you were loved and accepted no matter what.

..

“You sure took your time. I’ve been waiting for hours!” You lightly roll your eyes at your girlfriend’s exaggeration before lowering the hood of your jacket and patting the snow off your shoulders. “Well, excuse me for having a upcoming test.” You retort, making the other huff as she grabbed your hand.

“Oh, shut up. Let’s just go.”

You allow the taller girl to drag you inside her family’s café and smile when you see her parents already going around and tending to the few patrons that were present in the establishment.

Though as soon as they see you, their expressions light up more, quickly finishing what they were doing and thanking their customers before coming to welcome you and their daughter.

“Y/n! It’s been a while since you’ve visited. Hyejoo’s been saying that you were missing the shop.” Hyejoo’s mother said whilst giving the two of you a tight hug and your girlfriend groans, hiding her face in embarrassment while her father chuckled and patted your back. “I’m pretty sure you’ve been busy. Aside from taking care of our daughter, you have a busy schedule, right?” You nod your head before grinning teasingly at the girl next to you.

Her eyes narrow as she points an accusing finger at you. “Don’t even say it.” That prompted you to laugh before you shook your head and face her parents. “I’ve been busy with school, but I’m fine. Hyejoo likes to keep my consoles company while I study.” You say with a giggle and said girl smacked your shoulder, releasing your hand before she marched to the usual table the both of you occupied when her parents laughed.

“Well, why don’t you spend the day with her instead of letting games preoccupy her?” Hyejoo’s mother suggested and you nod your head. “We’ll bring you your usual, so enjoy your date.” Her father gave you another pat before they let you go and comfort your sulking girlfriend.

When you reach the table, you can’t help but smile at the adorable look on her face before taking the seat in front of her. “So, do you come here often?” You ask playfully and she raises a brow at you before playing along. “My family owns this shop.” She deadpans and you roll your eyes before leaning against the table with your elbows on the table.

“You’re no fun.”

“And you’re annoying.”

“Hey, what I said was true.”

“I spend more time with you than I do with my games.”

You can’t help but laugh as she finally admits the reason for her sulking before you reach over and place your hands on her cheek, squeezing them fondly before you withdrew, avoiding your girlfriend’s hand when she tried swatting you away.

“Okay, you do keep me company and the only reason you play is when I’m too busy to talk to you.” You relent and she pouts before you lean over to peck her cheek. “I’m sorry, my Hyejoo, please stop pouting.”

She cringes at your words, but it doesn’t stop the blush from rising to her cheeks as she turns her head away with a huff that it makes her look even more adorable than she usually was.

But she’s looking at you soon after, her expression becoming a little more serious as she reached over. “I know that you’re not exactly... comfortable to tell people, but if you want to tell them...” She glances to her parents, watching as her mother happily prepared your meals, and your eyes follow, shoulders dropping slightly.

You flip your hand over just so your gripping hers, smiling gently as you let your thumb run over the side of her hand. Of course, she didn’t tell her parents. That was your right whether you wanted to do so, so you appreciated how she was patient enough to respect your privacy.

“I...” Remembering your parents still stung, but then the memories with your girlfriend was enough to keep you at ease. “Maybe another time?”

She nods her head in understanding, raising your hand to press a kiss at your fingertips before smiling. “Of course. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be here waiting.”

And you could say that you counted yourself lucky to have someone who was as patient and understanding as Hyejoo.

[alwerakoo]

"Seasonal depression"

Ao3 link

Philza & Technoblade & Wilbur soot & Tommyinnit

//Major character death, angst with happy ending

--------

Phil hates fall.

He remembers well what a nightmare it was to clean up after Techno and Wilbur, every time they came back after playing outside, shoes dirty from mud, smiling from ear to ear.

How Tommy just wouldn't sit still in the bathtub, as Phil tried to rinse the dirt from his blond hair (Tommy always argued that no, he did not roll in mud at all, but Phil couldn't find any other explanation for how he had managed to collect so much dirt behind his ears).

How the rainy weather completely ruined their family trip in October (even tho Wilbur was laughing when he jumped in every puddle they came across, splashing water on both of his brothers, the fever he tormented him for the next week definitely made him less happy).

How Techno insisted that he wasn't cold, only for Phil having to lend him his coat and gloves an hour later (and although he would return them later, completely soaked and dirty, Phil always made sure to leave an extra blanket on his bed).

How the humid air left his wings feeling wet, settling heavily on the feathers (yet the need to shield the children from rain was stronger than any discomfort he felt later, as he let his cold feathers dry by the fireplace).

He also remembered a time when fall was his favorite season.

When at the end of the day, nothing could replace those quiet moments as he rocked sleeping Tommy in his arms, watching Wilbur smoothly intertwine Techno pink hair between his fingers, squinting in the weak candlelight.

Phil collected them all, those little fragile moments, every smile, every stupid leaf they give him, every new hairstyle Wilbur tested on his brother, every piece of wood thrown into a burning fireplace.

He collected them like souvenirs. That would soon inevitably become memories from their better days, and kept them close to his heart, as close as possible.

He did, until he couldn't anymore.

When that one autumn didn't bring back the familiar warmth, he realized that there were no more muddy footprints on the freshly washed floor, family trips and no one to pressure him into reading them a bedtime story, only to fall asleep before he even finished the first page.

The trees on the horizon, behind a wall of black smoke and soot, were slowly changing colors, and Phil held his dying son in his arms.

His son called him "dad" for the very lat time in October, and no matter how long he stood outside in the rain, the blood on his hands remained the same.

And as the last splashes of green vanished from the leaves, covering the ground with a fiery carpet, Phil realized that whatever was holding their family together, had been broken a long time ago.

Tommy called Techno a traitor, and Phil couldn't pretend he didn't understand him.

Techno said Tommy was stupid and naive, and Phil found it hard to disagree.

Ghostbur was grinning as Phil stared at his hands, dyed from Blue but still bloody red in his eyes, and he wondered if he would ever be able to look him in the eyes.

He found himself quietly hoping, asking, or even praying, that the next months would pass a little faster, that a thick layer of snow would cover everything he didn't want to look at.

But before all the leaves could fall off the trees, Phil was holding his youngest son, standing on a wooden dock.

Even though Tommy was taller than him, he still seemed so small. As if he could still easily pick him up and hold in his arms, letting him fall asleep on his shoulder, humming some random melody.

Ghostbur waved him goodbye. Phil quietly started reciting a new prayer.

And really, he should have stopped believing in gods a long time ago.

''Tommy is dead," Dream says on the same day the last leaf from L'mantree falls onto the yellow grass.

Phil didn't want anyone's condolences. He didn't want words of comfort, gifts, no sympathetic looks.

All he that wanted, was a proof. His body, at least some parts of it. That would silence the parts of his mind that wanted to hope that maybe, maybe, somehow...

Holding his eldest (the only one left) son's hand at the funeral, he couldn't force himself to even give a speech.

That fall, Phil buried two empty caskets.

Autumn left him with a void in his heart, and he knew he would never be able to fill.

He let all those memories, he held so close for so many years, fall and shatter into little pieces on the floor. Like an ancient sculpture; although beautiful from the outside, whoever created it had died a long time ago.

There was always a quiet inside Techno's house, and Phil was so desperate to grasp what was left of his family.

He wanted to hold onto Techno and never let it go. He let Ghostbur's hands color his cheeks blue.

And although the days grew colder and colder, he still refused to put on his old coat, the one that had their only real family picture stashed away in one of its pockets.

The night a thin layer of the first snow covered the roof of his house, Techno sent him a message.

Phil put on his shoes in a hurry, going over all the possible scenarios in his head.

The snowfall was not the ideal weather for flying, but it didn't really matter, because the time it took to spread his wings was enough to convince himself that 'I need you. Now.' actually meant: 'Be here in five minutes, or I'll fucking die'.

And only after landing on Techno's front porch, he let himself just breathe for a moment.

But when he opened the front door, all the air left his lungs.

His sons sat at the table, two mugs of steaming tea between them.

Both of them.

Tommy looked like he hadn't eaten in at least a week. His face was sunken, dark spots under his eyes, and his old T-shirt (with Techno's cloak dropped over his shoulder) had definitely seen better days.

Tommy was alive and staring at him with wide eyes.

"Dad?"

And before he could fully get up from his chair, Phil was already throwing his arms around him. They both fell on the floor.

Phil held him tight. As if someone would appear to remind him that his son was dead if he ever loosened his grip. As if he would lose him again.

Tommy buried his face in his shoulder, fingers grasping the back of his shirt.

Phil wasn't sure who started crying first.

Any questions that started to form in his mind were instantly shut down by this overwhelming feeling of relief.

It didn't matter anyway. It didn't matter 'how', 'why', the flowers he left on his grave that morning didn't matter.

Because suddenly, Tommy seemed so small once again. Like he used to be when, Phil was still able to hold his whole world in his wings. So small, like when he would always fall asleep to the tune of his lullabies.

His child was alive, and that was all that mattered.

Techno crouched down beside him, letting Phil's feathers fell behind his back.

December was kind and let him hold his baby in his arms once again.

Phil hated fall.

But maybe he'll give winter a chance.

[scorsoneamelia]

Can you write something where Amelia is taking care of everyone, Scout, Maggie, Mer etc and she comes home and she is sad and when Link asks her what is wrong she tells him she’s burned out and she can’t help but think that everyone around her keeps dying Derek, Deluca, Christopher, etc and he tells her that he will always be there for her and maybe he does a nice romantic gesture. Basically I want some fluffy amelink please thanks so much I love your writing. Stay safe!

 honestly im kind of disappointed in this :((((( i have been working on it for three days tho and i keep promising that i’ll post so here it is!!!!

          Exhausted. Mentally and physically, Amelia was drained. There’s been too much on her plate, Scout, Meredith’s kids, Meredith, Andrew, her own thoughts and her addiction was slowly starting to creep back in. She feels like she hasn’t slowed down in months and she’s tired. Maggie had come down with the common cold, causing her to be stuck in a bedroom because there was a pandemic. It’s not covid, Amelia. I was tested. But they lived with 4 children, there was no risking anything, so Maggie isolated herself in her own bedroom. Whenever there was food made, (if Amelia was actually able to cook something edible) she’d have to deliver it to Maggie’s room. Meredith was still in the hospital, she was awake but she couldn’t come home yet so her nieces and nephew was still her responsibility.

           Link had been occasionally going to Jo’s house with a bottle of wine, or some hard liquor that they’d usually finish in a few hours because he was coping and because he’s “not in recovery.” Something that Amelia couldn’t do because she was an “alcoholic.” So even though Link was stressed out he still had an outlet, an unhealthy one some would argue, but he would leave the house to hangout with a friend to get the edge off.

            Amelia had just gotten back from visiting Owen, (mostly to help Teddy) because after another tragedy they lost Andrew DeLuca, causing Post Traumatic Stress Disorder for Teddy because it brought back memories of Allison, the love of her life. Owen was being insensitive and Amelia would be the first one to call him out on it. It caused a lot for Amelia too, the pandemic, taking care of everyone else and never getting a chance to breathe and focus on herself which was causing her addiction to creep back in, losing a good friend due to a horrific tragedy, all of the stress, she just couldn’t handle it. Seeing Teddy in that state only reminded her of everyone she lost too, and it made her sad. It seemed like everyone around her was dying, everyone she considered a friend was either dead or was dying.

            Everyone around her always dies. Her father, her best friend, her boyfriend, her baby, her brother, Meredith almost left her too and one of her coworkers, her friend, also died. Now the help that she got from Maggie wasn’t there because she was in isolation. Link was drinking at Jo’s and Amelia refused to bring it up to him again considering the last time she said anything it caused a fight, resulting in Link leaving the house.

            The kids were all in bed, Scout being the last one to be put down because he was extra cranky today, it felt like all he did today was cry and it seemed like on some days that’s all he could do, no matter what she did for him. Babies are hard work and she knew that, but she was burnt out. She never understood how Meredith did this with three kids.

           A long and exhausted sigh came out of her mouth as she plopped down onto the couch, bringing both hands to her face to run them through her hair. Her life has changed so much, ever since Christopher she never imagined having another baby, she feels guilty for loving Scout and she almost feels like it replaced her love for Christopher.

          The front door was being pushed open and Link was walking in, taking his black jacket off and then they made eye contact. She didn’t say anything to him, she just adverted her eyes down into her lap, her hands resting in them. A soft cry escaped her lips and her face was being put into her hands, cries slowly making their way out of her throat.

         “What’s wrong?” Link immediately asked, sitting next to her and placing a hand on her shoulder in a comforting way. His voice was soft and he sounded concerned.

          “I’m just,” she sniffled, bringing a hand up to her face to wipe off the tears. “So tired. I feel like everyone around me is dying and I’m exhausted.”

           Immediately after, Link stood from the couch, quickly making his way over to the staircase. “I’m going to run you a warm bath and you’re going to relax, it’s what you need right now.” Before Amelia could interject, he was already up the stairs and moments later she heard the faint sound of watering running and filling up the bath tub. So, she followed, meeting him in the bathroom, tears still wetting her cheeks. 

          “You need a minute to just relax and breathe,” he placed his hands on her shoulders and rubbed them, the friction making her warm. “You’ve been doing so good with the kids and Scout, you deserve this.” 

            A small warm smile tugged at the corners of her lips and her blue eyes looked into his matching blue eyes, both of their eyes trailing down to each other’s lips. Their kiss was soft and gentle, like it was their first kiss and it was just what she needed. “Thank you.” She whispered softly before they kissed once more before he left the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind him so that she could have some privacy and so she could relax. 

________

            She had come downstairs, a loose pair of baggy pants hanging off of her hips with a loose t-shirt on and her hair was damp. Link thought she looked beautiful, he knows he’s in love with her. To prove that, he had set up a bed in front of the fireplace, there was lots of blankets and pillows, all of her favorite kind of snacks (doughnuts too, cause Link loved them) spread out on the floor. The wood in the fireplace was burning, making a crack and pop sound every so often and the house was quiet and warm.  

          “Link,” she breathed, walking closer to see the set-up he made for her. “What’s all this?”

          “I just wanted you to have a good night, just the two of us.” He was already laying down on his side on top of the mountain of blankets, using his arm to prop himself up. “Breathe and relax. You’re so stressed out, you need to relax more.” 

            She joined him, the heat from the fireplace immediately warming her body. Both of them reached for a doughnut, trying to put as much of it into their mouths as they could, it was something they’ve always done it somehow became their thing. But everytime they both end laughing too hard and one of them always almost chokes on it, or one nearly spits it out. Both of them were laughing now, genuine smiles taking over their faces that even reached their eyes. 

            “I just want you to know,” Link said once their laughs subsided, his hand reaching for hers and letting her soft fingers intertwine with his. “I know everything feels overwhelming right now and everything sucks. But, I just wanted to let you know that I will always be here for you, I’m not going anywhere. I love you, Amelia. You have me, I’ve got you. Everything is going to be okay.” 

            Her smile was warm, her grip on his hand getting tighter and she was moving closer to him. “I know you might be feeling all of this guilt with Scout and Christopher. I know you love Christopher and I know you love Scout and nothing will ever replace the love you have for him. You have enough love to give everyone, and that’s what I love about you. You feel everything so deeply, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” 

           There were both kissing now, this time not as soft, this time they were kissing with so much passion that you could feel the love in their kisses. Her left hand reached up to his face to rest it on his jawline, pulling him closer to her. She loved him so much that she could feel it throughout her entire body.

           After they broke up their kiss, they were laying down, Link’s back flat on the ground while Amelia laid her head on his chest, wrapping an arm around his waist. “You didn’t have to do any of this you know.”

          “I just figured you could take your mind off of some stuff for the night, and I wanted to remind you that I love you.” His arm was running up and down her arm and her side, her face nuzzling deeper into his neck. 

         They both laid there for a few minutes in silence, both just wanting to enjoy each other’s company. The tips of his fingers were running up and down her arm in a soothing motion, his heartbeat vibrating against his chest and within minutes she was asleep. A soft snore came out of her mouth and it caused Link to smile, placing a kiss on the top of her head. 

         Scout was crying from upstairs, most likely because he had an accident and he needed his diaper changed. Amelia stirred from under him, her eyes fluttering open an being woken up from her short sleep. Her arm that was around his waist loosened and she was pushing herself up so that she could go and check on Scout. 

          Link beat her to it though, standing up before her. “I’ll go, you sleep.” He planted one more kiss on her forehead and turned to make his way up the stairs. He turned back to look at her once more, seeing her already peacefully sleeping, her mouth partially open and a soft snore coming out of her lips. One arm was rested against her side and the other nuzzled underneath her chin. He could look for her for hours because she looked so calm and peaceful and beautiful. He would have stayed in that exact moment but Scout’s cries were only getting more demanding and he didn’t want to wake Amelia so he left, heading up the stairs.

[whatgaviiformes]

Firefly’s Glow - Part 1/?

For @janetm74 and @tsarinatorment and because I am desperate to post something to get my groove going again.

 📦 trapped in a box requested by Janetm74 / How about ⏳ - time’s running out and 📦 - trapped in a box with some Scott&Gordon? – requested by Tsarinatorment

A/N: Author’s Note - Okay, first I hope it’s ok that I combined these asks. Second, I know this is strange. End notes included to explain. Also, I have and by extension Gordon has a potty mouth. I promise I edited most of them out. 

*****

Less than a minute.

Gordon could work miracles in less than a minute. In 51.2 seconds, he went from Gordon Tracy, son of the late Jefferson Tracy, to Gordon Tracy, Olympic Gold Medalist representing the United States of America. He’d let the muscular pull, push, recovery rhythm of the butterfly stroke propel him past world records.

But of course he never really had to think about how to move through water.

Focus.

He had shackles to pick.

“You’re running out of time, Gordon Tracy.”

Damn it all.

Now the Hood was just being rude. It was Virgil’s face and voice that taunted him– though it really wasn’t his voice because Virgil could never speak to Gordon with a tone so laced with malice. Ire, sure. Hatred and malevolence, no way in hell.

Gordon would tear the Hood apart for stealing his brother’s voice, starting with a solid right hook in his snickering mug once he got out this.

Arms crossed, the Hood had a timer in one hand and an unrecognizable gun in the other. Though Gordon knew guns, he couldn’t recognize this one from the quick glance he’d spared. He’d had no time to look.

35 seconds.

He could do this. In that amount of time he’d saved an electrified Thunderbird 2 from a free fall by redocking his pod in the plummeting behemoth and connecting their computer systems to regain control. He hadn’t needed time to think, just react – his brother’s life was dependent on Thunderbird 2’s survival.

His brother whose voice was stolen by a madman.

“My, my, didn’t my niece teach you better than that?”

Leave Kayo out of this, you stupid, greedy, motherf - His survival thus far had been a little bit Kayo, a little bit Parker, and a whole lot of Brains. Parker for the lock picking knowledge, Kayo for the speed and survival tactics, Brains for the lock pick built into the bottom of his boots.

And sure, maybe a little bit of his own survival training helped.

A minute to remove the shackles in exchange for freedom. 60 seconds. Gordon could save lives in 60 seconds. He can, and will, save his own.

15 seconds left.

“Tick tock.”

His hands fumbled with the small pick between his fingers and the awkward angle of a lock he couldn’t even see, only feel.

8

7

6

Click!

The shackles came free and fell to the ground with a clatter. Gordon panted, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Very good. Perhaps, you have some worth to me after all.”

“But-”

“Oh, I was never going to let you go, Gordon Tracy. But thank you for the…” Virgil-that’s-not-really-Virgil waved a hand towards Gordon’s shoes. “Demonstration.”

Rage welled up inside him.

It was Virgil’s face, sure, but Gordon had punched Virgil before. Hell, Virgil had punched him before. And the man in front of him wasn’t really Virgil anyway. So, Gordon launched himself at the Hood, preparing to attack.

In his anger, he’d forgotten about the gun. He wouldn’t have entered a gunfight with his fists if he remembered. Taking out your opponent 101.  His WASP superior officers would have been sorely disappointed in him.

Sans his standard yellow baldric (because the Hood had taken that from him too), Gordon gasped at the sudden impact that hit his chest. Even though the projectile’s force wasn’t enough to drive him back, the gun, intended for mid-range, packed a hell of a punch, and there was a terrifying moment when Gordon looked down at his body and expected to see blood. Instead, the dart protruding from his left pectoral carried a blue liquid, an injection of something. He didn’t know what, and somehow, that thought was even less comforting.

The swift lethargy that flowed through his muscles slowed him as the drug hit.

Gordon crumpled to the dirty cement floor as Virgil cackled in his ear, and all went black.

*****

Gordon’s love of the sea came first from the fact that the sea was so different from the plains of Kansas, secondly that it was a part of the Earth itself he loved so much. and thirdly – and most importantly– because the first time he stepped into the rushing waves of the ocean it had been like finally learning to breathe.

Gordon had learned to appreciate all of Earth’s life at a young age. He was never a rescue scout like Scott, as there was a bit too much focus on badgework for his tastes, but his youth was spent making mud pies, watching bird’s nests, and observing caterpillar chrysalises all the same.

The summer Gordon was six, Scotty had taken him out to the barn late at night and showed him how to make a lantern of fireflies. Their adventure pack (really Scott’s school bag, repurposed) held a flashlight, mason jars, a couple pieces of mesh to put overtop the glass, and two bug nets.  

No brothers were allowed – this was for him and Scotty only.

He’d abandoned the bug net for his hands pretty quickly, and within a few minutes, he’d managed to catch five or so for his lightning bug lantern. Of course, Scott had managed to catch more because he was older and also because he’d shared this memory with all his brothers and this was only Gordon’s first time.

It had been so pretty, the fireflies dancing in the mason jar, their lights slowly dimming and brightening in a mellow cadence that soothed his soul. But then, he realized their little bodies, which were used to flying around in the expanse of the sky, were suddenly confined to the glass container of the jar. And he saw not beauty but pain.  

It was a lovely, bittersweet memory he kept close to his heart because it represented a key moment of his youth: first growing up with Scott as an older brother and also the first time he’d felt a creature’s cry reach him. It was the same wail he felt when he read about oil spills off the coast of Alaska and illegal fishing nets that should not still be in use, and, god, the absolute trash humanity left in the oceans for poor sea turtles to choke over.

Scott hadn’t understood where the tears came from suddenly, but Gordon remembered his brother kneeling in front of him so their eyesight was level, and he recalled him asking what happened and what Gordon needed, completely uncaring that his jeans were getting dirty in the fertilized soil.  And the best thing about Scott was that he was the type of older brother that didn’t laugh or ignore him when Gordon said “they want out” through blubbering tears. He just helped Gordon release their fireflies back into the night, and instead they spent their evening counting their happy flickering until the numbers lulled Gordon to sleep.

The memory faded; the fireflies behind his eyes converged to a fragment on the other side of his lids, and a piercing white struck his brain with each blink as he awoke.

His feet were cold. The Hood had stolen his boots. Of freaking course. His next realization was that the rest of him was not as cold as his feet. In fact, that light coming in through the window was making his face and neck feel quite flushed.

It was the light that told him he was somewhere new. Previously the Hood had kept him locked in the darkness in his cell.

He groaned, shifting to sit up and look around his new abode, which was compact and with no angles to define the walls. But it was all glass, and so the window he thought was present was actually the room itself. And the floor he realized, feeling the material against the pads of his feet as he stood, was also glass.

His investigation was short lived, and Gordon hissed as the attempt to put weight on his left foot shot a laser of pain up through his ankle.

God, the Hood must have really thrown him in here, he thought.

He looked up.

No, not thrown. Dropped.

The ceiling of the room was not a ceiling at all, but the top of a bottle where the glass curved inward and then continued upward.

It was not quite what he imagined…. being the test subject of a madman. Maybe a tube or a cage or the cell where he was before would make sense, but a human-sized glass bottle?  He felt like one of the fireflies he was just dreaming of, and of course, the Hood had to steal that memory too, in addition to his baldric, his boots, and his brother’s face.

As Gordon squinted to peer past the glass, the light that had been penetrating his new home suddenly darkened with a singular brown eye filling the expanse of the vessel, disorienting the shape so that the pupil was huge and the iris round, and the rest was…well, still huge just not as much so.

Fire raced through his ankle as he backed up two steps, stumbling into the back of the bottle.

“Gordon?” The eye said in a deep rumble.

The hell? He knew that voice.

“Fuse?”

“Shit, man, you’re tiny.”

His instinct was to look at his hands, but of course, they were the same from his perspective, though perhaps a bit grimier than they were before he was captured, tossed in a cell, and then forced to pick his way out of his shackles for no reason other than the Hood’s demented sense of pleasure.

The eye was then replaced with Fuse’s hand as he picked up the bottle to clasp it by the neck and pull it off of what was clearly a high shelf, with Gordon still inside.

Everything was not okay.

He was not okay.

It was never a human-sized bottle, and as his world shifted with Fuse raising the glass, Gordon realized he was lucky if he was half a foot tall.

END PART 1

End note:  In effort to think outside the box for in a box my brain went straight to pocket!Gordon, so I went angsty Arrietty/the Borrowers vibes. There’s a more literal box planned later, I promise, and more Scott as requested. But for now, hope this helps do the job. Also don’t skip over the first part, POCKET!GORDON. 😊

Part 2

[mister-supernova]

If I Saw You on the Street

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader - Platonic Josie Saltzman x Reader

After Malivore

For as long as you could remember, summer vacation was your absolute favorite time of the year. To your surprise, it’s actually been a huge drag for you this year. It wasn’t like this was the worst summer ever--you could think of a few others that could take that spot--but there was definitely something off that you couldn’t piece together. 

For instance, no one has any idea as to how Landon destroyed Malivore, not even Landon himself. That whole day seemed to be a huge blur to all of the students. You remembered the bigger events like the school defeating Triad, but everyone seems to struggle when it comes to the smaller details.  

In order to keep yourself busy, you decided to stay at the school and take a summer job at the Mystic Grill. Besides the fact that everyone else was back home with their families, the whole school had this off-putting sense of emptiness. The place has magic in the walls for crying out loud, you usually feel some sense of liveliness. 

There was this one room in particular that you felt strangely drawn to. You had no idea why since you knew that no one stayed in that room this past year. At least, no one you knew anyways. 

One day out of pure curiosity, you picked the lock to that room to see what was special about it. 

Just as you expected, it was just a regular empty dorm that was probably going to be taken up by a new student during the fall. It looked like every other bedroom at the school, but this one felt familiar. 

Something that caught you off guard was the scent that faintly lingered in the room. The best way you could describe it was something floral with a hint of sweetness and spice--vanilla and cinnamon maybe--and it wasn’t like anything else you had smelled in the school before. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for the longest time. The urge to stay and wander trumped over the obvious choice that was to walk away. 

Something happened here, you thought. 

A few small drops of pastel blue paint chips stained the wooden floorboards and you wondered how the hell they got there given the rooms have white walls. 

Instead of questioning it any deeper, you just assumed that a student who had this room before must’ve gotten the paint on the floor and the janitors hadn’t noticed it. 

But how could they have missed that? 

You stood there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together what it was that made this place have this unexplainable affect on you. You could’ve stayed there for the rest of the day digging through your brain for an answer that would never come. 

At the end of the day, you knew nothing would come to mind no matter how hard you tried. It was like the answer was at the tip of your tongue, but your mind was radio silent.

Frustrated and defeated, you had to force yourself to leave the strange room. After that, you made yourself forget about that place completely for the rest of the summer and refused to ever return to it.  

Whenever you weren’t at work, you spent time with Landon, Josie, and a wolfed-out Rafael which was fine in the beginning. Dorian gave you permission to shift in the woods on full moons for the summer so that Raf could talk to somebody and you guys could possibly get information on how to help him. 

He definitely appreciated the company that you could provide, but alas he had no idea on how he could be turned back. 

The happier times were the nights you four had weekly movie nights by the Old Mill. You all would alternate who would pick the movie to watch and Landon absolutely hated that you chose a horror movie every single time, but you loved hearing the phoenix boy screech with terror. Josie would get a good kick out of it, too and you were positive that you’d see Raf wag his tail every time Landon screamed.

During those small moments, things felt like they could possibly get back to normal, but once you stepped foot back in the school, you were lost again. 

Your thoughts were much louder through the night. It would get so bad that you could barely get any sleep and the times that you would, you’d wake up screaming from a night terror. 

There was one night when you were tossing and turning, you knocked on Josie’s door to ask if she knew some kind of incantation to get you to fall asleep. You were up for anything at that point, even letting her swing a frying pan over your head to knock you out.  

Not wanting to hurt you or possibly kill you, Josie made you some sleepytime tea instead which actually helped a lot. It didn’t help so much with the vivid dreams you’ve been having, but you thought that it was better than getting no sleep at all. 

Everything felt like it was going decently well until Raf decided to bow out once Josie and Landon started getting close. You wanted to curse at him for making you the third wheel, but you understood that he couldn’t wait here forever for some solution that could help him become human again. He had to move on somehow, especially seeing that his best friend seemed to be moving on, too.

Regardless, you started feeling awkward hanging out with just the two of them. They wanted to include you during their weekly movie nights, but you’d just make up some excuse that you had to be up early for work the next morning. 

Landon--damn him for knowing your work schedule--could tell that you were bullshitting, but he didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do. 

You tried busying yourself with other activities like running through the woods, canoeing in the lake, taking extra shifts at work, binge eating all the good snacks in the kitchen; you even got yourself into drawing and painting for some weird reason, but no matter what you did, there was still something missing. 

Towards the end of the summer, you didn’t feel like your usual jokester self. Sure, you’d throw out a line of sarcasm or make a witty comment here and there, but most of it would sound forced. You’d mainly do it so that Josie and Landon wouldn’t worry about you so much, but Josie quickly picked up on your facade. 

They really wanted to help you figure out what was making you feel this way, but as much as you appreciate their help, there was nothing they could do. How could they figure out what was wrong if you didn’t even know for yourself?

One day after your shift at work, you decided to do something you never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever do. 

You started cleaning your room. 

Josie volunteered to help even though you assured her you’d be fine doing it alone. She bribed you by saying she’d buy you a milkshake if you let her help, so without another word, you agreed to let her stay and assist.

“Gosh, do you throw out any of your old assignments?” Josie asks as she rummages through your desk drawers, “This is an algebra one paper from three years ago, Y/n,” she says, flashing your old homework assignment with a huge F circled in the front. 

“Hey, less judging and more cleaning.” You say, digging through your dresser for clothes you don’t wear anymore. 

“Did you try writing a reminder for a history test or something?” 

You furrow your eyebrows before turning to look at Jo, “What do you mean?”

“You have this post-it note that says “Don’t forget H”, but that’s all that’s written,” she holds up the note and from the other side of your bed, you read exactly what she had said. 

It definitely looked like you tried scribbling another letter after the H, but it ended up being a long messy squiggle, “Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Probably. I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote it though because I have no clue when I did that.” 

Josie puffs her lip out in confusion, “Well. I would be surprised by that, but judging by the ten cans of energy drinks I just tossed out, it’s not so surprising to hear that your memory is a little fuzzy.” 

You drop your jaw in shock, “Is today Judge Y/n Day and I wasn’t made aware of it? You asked to help clean my room Jo, now save your judgments for another day please.” 

Josie playfully rolls her eyes at you, followed by a small chuckle, “Toss?” She asks, ready to crumple the piece of paper up. You take a second to answer back, wondering whether or not if you did forget some history assignment or maybe something even bigger than that. 

“Sure,” you feel your stomach churn seeing her throw the note in the trash bag, but there was no taking it back now. 

Another few minutes of silence pass until Josie speaks up, “Since when do you draw?” 

You look back up from your clothes to see Jo now holding up a sketchbook you snagged at the lost and found a few weeks ago. It was brand new and untouched, so you thought to yourself “why not?”. 

After explaining that to Josie, she flipped through some of the first few pages. You were no Leonardo DiCaprio--or whatever that painter guy’s name was--but you thought you were decent with your sketches. 

“These are really good, Y/n. Did you just think of these by yourself?” She asks, talking about the drawings you had of a girl you’ve been seeing in your dreams. 

You could only see parts of the girl’s face. Mostly you’ve only been able to clearly see features like her eyes and hair, so most of the pages were taken up by a pair of blue eyes and waves of auburn hair. 

“Not really. I’ve been having these really vivid dreams lately.” You tell Josie.

“This is who you see?” She looks down at the pages again, “Who is that? She doesn't look like anyone we know.”  

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s all I’ve been seeing, though.” 

“Well, it looks like you’ve found yourself a hidden talent.” Josie smiles, gently setting the book back down on the desk, “And maybe she’s your soulmate,” she teases. 

You just roll your eyes with a small smile and get back to your tasks. 

Like a girl that beautiful could even exist let alone talk to me, you think to yourself. 

As you continue sorting through your clothes, you notice a pair of sweats that look almost smaller than half your size. 

“Uh, Jo?” She turns to your attention, “These aren’t yours, are they?” 

She raises an eyebrow at you, “How short do you think I am? I think my legs are a little longer than whoever those are.” 

“Well, they’re not mine, obviously. How’d they get into my drawer?” 

“Maybe they belonged to whoever lived in this dorm before you?” Josie shrugs.

“But the dresser was completely empty when I moved in,” you think for a moment, now questioning everything, “At least, I thought it was. I would think that I would’ve taken these out if they were here. Why would I keep a pair of sweatpants that I don’t fit in?” 

“You do a lot of questionable things, you know. Like that one time you jumped through a bonfire wondering how hot it really was or when you tried to do a backflip off the roof of the school and into the pool or the time you “drank” a beer through your-” 

You raise your hands in surrender and cut her off before she could finish, “Okay, I get it! I do stupid shit. The sweatpants belonged to whoever lived in here before I moved in and I didn’t take them out of the drawer. Case closed. Swiftly moving on.” 

You were positive they weren’t there when you moved in, but there weren’t any other reasons you could think of as to how they got into your dresser. 

Seconds before you tossed it back into the bottom of your drawer, your nose barely caught the same sweet and spicy floral scent that you recalled smelling in the strange room. Breathing it in again brought back that memory of being mentally lost in that room, but oddly enough this time it made you feel calm. 

After another hour passed you and Josie ended up filling three bags of trash, one of them recycled trash, and one large donation box of clothes. 

You didn’t waste any time reminding her that she owed you a milkshake. She kind of hoped that you would’ve forgotten about your deal, but she was a woman of her word.

You made a “compromise” to take your box of clothes over to the donating center on the other side of the town square while Josie bought the milkshakes. 

Your task was a lot quicker than Josie’s since it was pretty much rush hour at the Grill right now, so you waited for her on one of the benches in the square.

Sitting by yourself with nothing else to do but wait, you couldn’t help but feel that empty feeling return. The emptiness never hit you all at once, but it definitely drained the hell out of you. 

Again, you felt stumped. Like there’s somewhere you should be or something you should be doing or someone you should be with. You knew Josie was going to be back any minute, but that wasn’t what was missing. 

You anxiously looked toward the Mystic Grill, feeling your breaths becoming more and more shallow as every second passes. You started wishing Josie would walk out so that all your worries could just go away. 

Then--almost like you knew right where to look--your gaze stopped when you noticed someone looking at you from where you just came from on the other side of the town square. 

You couldn’t make out her facial features from so far away, but it was the auburn color of her hair that stuck out to you more than anything. For a moment--and just for a moment--all the weight that had been weighing on your shoulders this summer felt much lighter and everything felt okay again. 

“One cookies and cream milkshake,” Josie’s voice startles you and you face her abruptly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, lending you your milkshake.

“No, you’re good. I was just…” you look back to the spot you saw the girl only to find that she was gone, “I was just lost in thought.” 

You had no idea what just happened or how you seemed to have possibly seen the girl from your dreams, but just a glimpse of her made you feel more emotions than you have all summer long. Because of that, a huge part of you hoped that you would see her again. 

~

heyyyyyy beautiful people! thanks for over 100 likes on This Isn’t Goodbye you guys gals and nb pals! i’m super super happy that you’ve been enjoying this series so far! still have no idea how many more parts this will be just yet lol but i really appreciate every one of you for the love <3  

*also the title was inspired by the song Dreams Tonite by Alvvays in case you were curious ;)*

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[cursedwriter]

You’re Everything and More - One Shot

Request: Anon: Hey, I saw that you’re looking for insp sooo I have the idea that the reader wakes up from a nightmare and Rob comforts her and there’s a lot of fluff thank you! 

Author’s note: Requests are open! Send anything you want! For the moment I’ll stick to one shots, otherwise I’ll lose control and I’m still in the middle of the Semester sooo that wouldn’t be great. Also I haven’t written in a while so this might suck alsooo can we please appreciate the gif like hot damn what I wouldn’t give

Word Count: 1.3k

“Shh, everything’s alright,” someone murmured next to you. “I’m here. It was just a dream.”

You sat up straight, momentarily confused about your surroundings, but the confusion vanished as soon as you felt his warm hand rub soothingly up and down your back. The room was dark, so you couldn’t see him, but you felt him shift behind you and suddenly his soft lips pressed feathery kisses along your shoulder. Gently his other hand searched for your face, cupping it and wiping his thumb across your cheek. Until this point you hadn’t even noticed that you were crying.

“I’m sorry,” you croaked out, voice sounding off to your own ears. “I’m sorry I woke you.” 

His hand fell from your face and you instantly missed his warm touch. “Don’t be silly,” he reassured you. You felt him laying down again, his hand reaching out to you once more, but this time to pull you down gently. You nestled yourself against his side, inhaling his scent and letting his comforting backrubs soothe you further. Soon your whimpers stopped and so did the tears. “Do you want to talk about it?” He asked after a short moment of silence.

You didn’t answer at first, not really sure what to say. It wasn’t because you were ashamed, you knew that you could tell him anything … but saying it aloud would bring the memories back and it hurt you just to think about it. He didn’t press, though, maybe thinking that you had fallen asleep again. “I don’t remember all of it,” you broke the silence. The dream was already hazy in your mind, seeping through your hands like sand. You could barely hold on to the exact images, but that wasn’t necessary anyway. The feeling of it lingered, burned inside your bones, your heart, leaving a scorching sensation behind, a bitter aftertaste. “You … You left me,” you were barely able to choke the words out, the hollow feeling still very much prominent in the pit of your stomach.

In response to your words, his grip around you tightened and he brought you closer to his body. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his even breathing and the steady beating of his heart. “You know I’d never do that,” he whispered against your hair, pressing a light kiss on it after he was done.

“Please, don’t make promises that you can’t keep.” Your voice was also barely above a whisper and after he didn’t answer, you were almost certain that he hadn’t heard you.

“I’m not,” he said eventually. “I mean … how could I ever leave you when you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me? When you’re literally everything I always hoped for and so much more? How could I?”

It was quiet again while you processed his words. You knew that he loved you, he told you that over and over again every day, but somehow you still couldn’t believe it sometimes. It wasn’t easy navigating your normal life through the craziness that was his life. In the beginning you found it kind of amusing that people were trying to get pictures of you, like … why would anyone want that? It was so absurd to you that you took it as a joke at first. Now, though, everything looked a lot different. Just because you were dating someone in the spotlight made everyone believe it was okay to spread false rumors about you, have an opinion on you as a person without having ever spoken to you personally and of course everyone knew what was best for Rob but Rob himself apparently… and the best thing almost always didn’t include you. You were bashed online for not ‘being good enough’ for ‘just wanting his money and fame’ and whatnot. Rob was better at ignoring snide comments. He was used to people having their opinions on him and he didn’t care much for it. You, on the other hand, had never had to deal with anything remotely close to this before. This stood in no correlation to your middle school self being bullied by some popular girl that liked to pick on you because you had had a weird obsession with Star Wars at the time and that was only ‘for boys’. And though, obviously that had hurt you at the time - because how could somebody hate you for something that you loved? – this now was a million times worse. You never really considered yourself to be super insecure – the normal amount of insecure, sure, nobody’s perfect and whatnot – but after that one afternoon where you went down an online spiral and sifted your way through every comment that was directed either directly at you or at your relationship with Rob, things had taken a considerable turn. You had cried for hours, thanking god that Rob wasn’t home to see you like this. He felt bad enough already that he had made your life a lot harder – which was ridiculous because it wasn’t his fault, but he liked to burden himself whenever he found an excuse to do so. It drove you nuts sometimes. However, all those comments had you questioning if someone like him could really ever love someone like you. And most of the time you came to the conclusion that you must be dreaming whenever he reassured you that he did love you.

“I just feel like that one of those days you’ll realize what a mess I am…,” quiet sobs escaped your lips, but you tried your hardest to force the tears back that were already welling up behind your eyes. “One day you might hate everything about me that you find endearing now and then you’ll leave me … and I can’t even be mad, because deep down I knew it all along … You’re too good for me.”

You could feel him tense under your touch, a long sigh left his lungs and the hand that was rubbing you back slowly came up to play with your hair. Something he liked to do when he was anxious.

“I hate that you think so little of yourself… I wish you could see yourself through my eyes just once.” While his right hand played with your hair, his other found your hand that rested on his chest and he intertwined your fingers. He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed every one of your fingers with brief feathery kisses that sent butterflies through your stomach. “Because if you did, you’d see that there is no way in hell that I could ever hate you! Ever!” He laid your hand down again, playing with your fingers now. “I don’t think I’ve ever loved anyone as much as I love you. Sometimes the feeling’s so intense I’m worried my heart will suddenly explode because it can’t contain the amount of love I have for you! Being apart hurts me physically and whenever I’m away for work I count down the days until I can finally hold you in my arms again! I think everyone’s already annoyed by me, because I just can’t shut up talking about you, because you’re literally the only thing that’s ever on my mind. If anything, I’m the one who’s afraid that you might leave me once you’ve had enough.” He paused his monologue, deep in thought and then he added, “I don’t think I could survive that.”

You didn’t really know what to say after that, stunned at his declaration. The only thing you could think of was to show him how much he meant to you. You propped yourself up on his chest, laying on top of him now. There was absolutely no light in the room, so you couldn’t see his face. With your nose you slowly tested your way up, leaving kisses as you went: up his throat, on his jawline and cheeks and his nose until finally your lips found his. The kiss was slow and soft at first, but soon it turned needier, more forceful as if you were afraid that he might disappear under your touch.

Well, it’s safe to say you didn’t get much sleep that night. 

Send requests HERE

[freckledoriya]

“my eyes adored you” (izuku midoriya x reader fic)

WARNINGS: slightly angsty at times, but happy ending! 

WORD COUNT: 1.7k

SUMMARY: You were best friend with Izuku Midoriya when you were little, but went your separate ways. What happens when your paths cross again, years later? 

LINKS: ao3 | masterlist | ask box

TAGLIST: at the end of the post, message me to be added/removed!

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is kind of (really) trash, but hey, it’s been a while and I’m trying to get back into writing. take it easy on me. 

inspired by frankie valli’s “my eyes adored you” 

You’re standing at the register of your local coffee shop, working a hundred miles per hour during the morning rush. It’s a job that you’ve had for a while now. You tell yourself you’ll leave when you find what you’re really destined to do, but the day has yet to arrive. With no current ambition and no quirk, you’re seemingly left to take coffee orders for the rest of your days. 

Today starts to blend in with all the days before. You hear the bell of the shop door sound, and sigh before preparing your best “how can I help you?” face. And that’s when you see him. Izuku Midoriya standing in front of you.

You and Izuku Midoriya have known each other for longer than you could remember. The two of you grew up together, learning how to read side by side while thumbing through hero magazines. As a pair, you two were inseparable.

“Let’s play ‘heroes!’” five-year-old Izuku chirped with a bright smile, running up to you. He sticks his hand out for you to take. “I’ll be All Might!” 

You can’t help but smile back, giggling at your best friend’s unmatched enthusiasm. “You’re always All Might,” you tease, taking his hand in yours. 

You don’t know it then, as a naive toddler, but that feeling of pure happiness that rushes through your veins when you interlock hands with Izuku, is love in its beginning form. A love that will grow so strong, it will dominate your life and never let you free of its hold. It’s the kind of love that will keep you up at night, always wondering if tomorrow will be the day when you finally get over it, knowing damn well that tomorrow will arrive and your feelings will have only grown stronger. But right now, you’re five years old, and liking a boy is icky. 

You stick with him through everything. Through him finding out he doesn’t have a quirk, to the endless bullying he endures throughout elementary and middle school because of that. You spend nights camped out in your parents’ backyard, staying up late past your bedtime to talk about each other's feelings. Comforting him through tears, you wrap your arm around him. 

“I don’t have a quirk either,” you say. “And you still think I’m pretty great, right?”

He sniffles and nods, looking up at you and giving you a slight smile. 

You're not sure why at the time, but his smile makes your heart flutter. 

It’s not till you’re in middle school, walking home along the river as Izuku carries your books for you, that it dawns on you that you want nothing more than him to be your first everything- your first date, your first kiss, your first boyfriend. That’s when he becomes your first crush. Little did you know, that crush would seemingly endure the test of time. 

Time isn’t the only thing that tests the magnitude of your crush. After middle school, something changes. Izuku somehow gets a quirk and enters into the hero program at the prestigious U.A. high school. You could tell that he didn’t mean to leave you behind. The two of you would text every so often, vowing to meet up soon. But things never seemed to work out. He was always busy training or hanging with his newer, cooler friends. By the time of high school graduation, you two barely talked anymore. And then one year, he forgot your birthday. And then the next, and then the next.

You watched him from afar, climbing up the mountain to becoming the number one hero that he is today. Working his fingers to the bone to get himself a name, you saw the hell he went through to achieve his dream. And you admired him for it.

Some days, you’d find yourself daydreaming the day away, wishing you still were a part of Izuku’s life, but knowing full well that things could never be. He’s a top hero with fangirls, and you work the counter at a coffee shop. That humbling thought brought you back to reality.

“Can I have a coffee, please?” 

You assume that’s what Izuku says, but honestly, you’re too lost in your own thoughts and in his gorgeous, green eyes to comprehend that he’s speaking. He smiles a little bit, making your heart flutter in a way that it hasn’t in a long time. 

“M-Midoriya,” you whisper, his name falling out of your lips. 

He looks at you and slightly cocks his head to the side. Then, suddenly, you see it hit him.

“Y/N?” he asks, his eyes growing wider and wider. 

You can’t help but smile at the way he says your name. After all these years, he still says it like he’s talking to his best friend. 

“Oh my god, Y/N!” he almost yells. “I can’t believe it’s you!”

“It’s me!” you giggle. “I’ve missed you so much.”

That last part was meant to stay in your mind, but slipped out. Thankfully, Izuku is too distracted by processing that you’re in front of him to really think about it. 

“Ahem,” the person in line behind Izuku clears their throat. “I hate to ruin this moment, but some of us are in a rush to get our coffee.”

The two of you blush and mutter apologies. But then you start to panic. No, this can’t be goodbye again. You can’t let him slip out of your life again. Do something. 

“I’ll be on break in 15 minutes, if you wanna go hang out and catch up?” you say, your voice cracking at the end from nerves. 

“I’m actually on parole soon, so I can’t right now. But I’ll be done with work later tonight... We should have dinner!” 

You breathe a sigh of relief. “Sounds like a plan. Meet me here at 6?”

“Yeah!”

A beat passes of awkward silence as the two of you look at each other. 

“Um…Y/N?” he asks, his eyes looking into yours. 

“Yes?” you whisper, seemingly under his spell again. 

“...Can I get that coffee?” 

That snaps you out of it. “Yes! Of course! Coming right up!” 

The day passes painfully slow at work as you wait for 6 o'clock to roll around. The day is full of you playing back memories of you and Midoriya as children-- laughing, crying, being there for each other no matter what. It felt so good to see him earlier, like a piece of your life had been missing and you didn’t feel complete until he was standing in front of you.

You sit outside the coffee shop, waiting for him to arrive. 

… But he never does. 

It’s not till 8 that it starts to hit you that you’re being stood up. You practically feel your heart start to break. 

Because, who didn’t see this coming? Izuku Midoriya has better things to do than to hang out with you. You’re stupid for thinking otherwise. Stupid, stupid, stupid. 

He’s a superstar hero, and you’re nothing compared to him. Dust. Insignificant dust. Look at him, saving the world by taking out one villain at a time. And look at you, stuck in a dead-end job with no ambitions or dreams. Crushing on a man that removed you from his life for a reason.

You feel the tears well up behind your eyes. 

How pathetic. Look at you, sitting on a bench under a streetlamp, crying. You’re an adult, hopelessly in love with someone who forgets that you even exist. Why can’t you move on? You’re crazy, that’s why. You’re insane for even entertaining the idea that someday, somehow, Izuku will come to you with his arms open. 

You can’t stop the stream of tears coming from your eyes as you break down and cry. Softly sobbing, you put your face in your hands, wanting to hide from the world forever. Then, you hear it. Someone saying your name. No, not someone. You’d know that voice anywhere. 

You look up and see Izuku kneeling beside you, eyes wide and concerned.

Immediately, you see why he was late, and you feel stupid for not thinking of it sooner.

He is beside you in his hero costume, sweaty and bleeding in various places all over his body, obviously just coming back from an intense battle that went longer than expected.

“A-are you okay?” you ask immediately, wiping your tears away with your hands. 

Izuku furrows his eyebrows. “Me? Yeah, I’m okay. It’s just some cuts and bruises… Are you okay?”

“I-” you begin to speak, your brain telling you to say ‘I’m fine!’ and make up a story about why you were sobbing on a bench by yourself. 

But you can’t. Your heart won’t let you.

“I’m so scared to lose you again,” you confess, the tears coming back to your eyes. 

Izuku's face softens. “Lose me? What do you mean? You never lost me, Y/N.” 

You sniffle and shake your head. “You went on to do such incredible and amazing things. And I’m so proud of you. But I just wish I could be part of your life again.” 

He gently places his hands over your shaking hands, his touch feels impossibly electrifying and soothing at the same time.  

“I am so sorry,” he says. His eyes drift to the side and he gulps. “I… I was scared of how I felt about you.”

“How’d you feel about me?” you ask.. 

You can see a slight blush form on Izuku’s cheeks. “Like… I really liked you.” 

He looks up at you for a response, but you’re frozen in place, your brain working overtime to figure out what he’s saying. 

He must take you silence as something negative, because he begins muttering.

“I know, it’s stupid, it’s like we were best friends and you were so great and I was so not great but our relationship was so wonderful and you made me so happy like I never would have been able to get through middle school without you and I just adored you and-”

“And now?” you interrupt. 

He stops and looks at you, eyes searching yours for answers that you’ve kept hidden and locked away for years. 

“And now… I… I… I just want to be near you.” 

You don’t think. You just hug. 

You pull Izuku into you, wrapping your arms around his neck, breathing in the scent of him and reminding yourself that this isn’t a dream. It takes a second for him to unfreeze and hug you back, but when he does, you could swear that you’re flying. 

(TOLD YOU IT WAS TRASH IM SO SORRY PLS DON’T HATE ME)

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