#clothes wrinkles were a lot easier to do when I had no idea how they worked -P while working on this

[racefortheironthrone]

Considering superhero comics predate the invention of spandex, when did the idea that superhero costume are made from spandex come from?

Great question!

To answer this question, I first need to backup and do some history about fin-de-siècle strongmen and the origin of the "superhero costume" as a distinct cultural concept. In the late 19th/early 20th century, circus strongmen were not just huge draws but celebrities and cultural icons in their own right, part of the whole obsession of anxious masculinity in that era, along with the emergence of bodybuilding and quite a bit of racist eugenics (think "Passing of the Great Race" stuff) about how industrial civilization was making white men effete and degenerate and thus vulnerable to the Other.

However, the strongmen had something of a fashion problem: in order to do their shtick, they often wore close-fitting silk tights and shirts in order to show off their musculature, and these had a tendency to split when they were flexing. This could run the risk of leaving the strongmen hanging in the wind, as it were, so they adapted by putting on wrestler's unitards over their tights to keep themselves under wraps.

Throw on a cape, and you literally have the archetypal superhero costume. But if you take a look at how these costumes look on an actual human body, they're not literally skin-tight. You can see some muscle definition in places, but there's also visible wrinkles and folds at the joints and other places where you need more flexibility. It's just not quite there yet in terms of evoking the whole George Sandow aesthetique.

And then in 1958, spandex was invented as a much more elastic fabric that could be truly skintight without splitting, so you could really see the musculature much more clearly. Add this to the expanding and increasingly professionalized and advanced culture of postwar bodybuilding, and people's expectations about what their superheroes could and should look like began to change. Thus, starting in the Silver Age and into the Bronze Age, superheroes start to look a lot buffer and their costumes look a lot tighter so that the reader can see every damn muscle (and curve) on superheroes' bodies - because artists and editors and publishers realized they could make more money by making comics that were a bit sexier, thanks to the magic of "spandex."

Now this gets us into the economics of the comics industry and changing generational cohorts, but as we passed from the Silver Age to the late Bronze Age, you started to see a shift from comics artists who worked in comics because Jews and Catholics weren't welcome in the Art Departments of Madison Avenue, to comics artists who worked in comics because they had grown up reading comics and learned to draw from comics.

This had an impact on superhero costumes, because the older artists tended to be plugged in more to fashion and fashion art and thus drew superhero costumes as clothing with real three-dimensionality to it and the younger artists found it easier and faster to just draw familiar superhero bodies naked (with "spandex" as the figleaf) and then put in a few lines showing where the costumes end - and this easier and faster style that turned up the dial on allowable sexiness was more profitable for the companies.

Once you get to Jim Lee, Rob Liefeld, Todd McFarlane, and the other "Image Kids" of Nineties Comics, the spandex-ification of superhero comics had reached its peak because now the hot new trend was stuff that wouldn't work even with real-world spandex, hence the phenomena of the boob sock and the logical extension of the swimsuit/bikini for superwomen to the battle thong.

So ultimately it all comes down to the combined pressures of culture and economics.

[apoptoses]

Omg reverse roleplay part 3????? I LOVE it reverse roleplay stuff

okay so you're gonna be disappointed because my naming conventions mean if a fic is connected to a previous fic, i use the same wip title on it to keep them organized. so while technically this DOES originate from the very first reverse roleplay fic, it has nothing to do with that activity 😂 it's just daniel in charge.

but i got stuck on it 5k in and now i think i know why (they need some breathing space between returning to night island post akasha -> fooling around to let some tension build). maybe i'll get back to it and give it another try!!

“So this is where you’ve been during the day for all these years,” Daniel said as he stepped into the room.

It was like something that had been cut from some renaissance manor and transported straight to Miami. Hell, knowing Armand it probably had. Daniel ran his fingers along the dark, linenfold paneling as he walked the periphery of the room. The elaborately carved and painted ceiling glittered in the dim light of the electric candelabra installed by the door.

Daniel felt as though he were enclosed in an old jewelry box, the ceiling so low he could almost reach up and touch it. He stepped onto an antique rug and wiggled his toes in its wool fibers. With his immortal eyes he could see the thinnest crack in the paneling, suggesting another hidden door. A closet, probably. Surely there was nowhere in this small room to keep Armand’s great collection of clothes. There was just enough space for the desk and bookshelf, and a silk covered chaise lounge. And the coffin-

Daniel had no idea one could find a coffin made so large. The black lacquered lid was shut but even without it being open he could tell the inside of it would be wide enough for two.

He turned his attention to Armand, who stood with his hands behind his back, expression smooth and placid as it had ever been. Daniel’s heart drummed in his chest.

“That’s an awful lot of coffin for someone your size,” he joked, and then cringed when his voice wavered with his nerves.

How childish, being nervous about whether Armand would invite him to sleep in here with him. Daniel felt like a teenager, desperate to be invited into the room of the first boy he’d ever liked.

They’d slept together, of course. But out of necessity, when it was easier to acquire one coffin a the last minute than two. Armand, exhausted and wan from his turning, had climbed in on top of him fully clothed and collapsed into the death sleep before Daniel had even had a chance to kiss him. And then in compound- well it hadn’t felt right, flaunting his status as Armand’s fledgling in front of all of his former loves. Besides, it was safer sleeping alone, Marius had insisted.

Daniel tilted his head and watched his reflection in the shining black surface of the coffin lid. Without meaning to, he lifted his hand and traced the lines around his mouth, forever etched into his skin by immortality.

“Yes. I thought perhaps it would be more comfortable,” Armand said. “You’ve always preferred to fall asleep lying on your side.”

The hinges on the coffin made no sound as Armand lifted the lid. It wasn’t brand new. The divot in the padded interior was just the width of Armand’s narrow shoulders, the wrinkles in the pillow sham spoke of his tossing and turning in the early hours of the evening. Daniel toyed with the pleated satin that lined the lid and wondered when Armand had purchased it. How long he’d deliberated over whether Daniel would ever sleep there at all.

“So you want me here with you after all,” Daniel said quietly.

“Yes,” Armand shifted his weight from foot to foot. Beneath him the floor boards creaked. “Why would you think I wouldn’t?”

[lavenderbexlatte]

day 1 - marking

twice 1k words gender neutral reader insert Reader x Minatozaki Sana NSFW

🖤 warnings: biting, gentle/light themes of possession, a gn reader who is very much a himbo in vibes, sana is so fun and sexy and i love her 🖤

kinktober masterlist

connect with me! / masterlist

It's the little skirt that does it.

You don't mean to see her from below, of course. It's a little bit rude of you to look in public, but you can't help it, not when Sana is walking up the stairs in front of you.

It's only you, anyway. And she's your girlfriend. So you can't be blamed for looking as long as possible. The garment is more of a skort, really, little black shorts and a black skirt overtop that flows over her hips (not very far, though) and accentuates her lean legs.

You like it when she tans in the summer, too, but there's something about the creamy color of her upper thighs, peeking from under that skirt, that just calls to you.

Admittedly, these are a lot of thoughts to have bouncing around in your head as you follow your girlfriend up the stairs that lead into the little shopping plaza where she'd dragged you, after you picked her up from work for the day, but you'll survive.

You manage to keep yourself perfectly under control and presentable until you're back to the apartment.

Then, well. Who can blame you, for wanting a little closer look?

Sidling up behind her as she stands at the back of the sofa, draping the clothes she'd bought over the cushions so they don't wrinkle, you tug at the hem of her skirt.

"I like this," you say.

Subtle. You're always so subtle. You marvel at yourself.

"This?" she repeats, distracted.

"New?"

"No. I think Mina got it from somewhere and didn't like it," she says.

"Remind me to thank Mina."

Sana turns around, then, so that you're face to face, her legs pressed to the sofa back, her expression exasperated and fond. "You're such an animal."

"Me?" you say, rightfully indignant.

"You were practically drooling at the mall."

"I was being so normal."

"And you wouldn't let me walk more than ten feet away."

You pout. "I get lonely."

"What did I say? An animal."

She's being totally unfair, and as much as she's absolutely justified to make fun of you, and as good at the attention is, you're gonna milk it.

"Rejected," you say, "My crime? Thinking my own girlfriend is sexy."

"You'll have to get me a little collar with a bell on it so you can follow me around easier," she says playfully, gathering up her purchases in her arms and heading for the kitchen table, instead.

"That's not a bad idea," you muse.

"Never lose me, that way. Or maybe a leash."

"Even better."

"Or how about matching t-shirts? 'If Found, Return To Stupid-'"

"Hey!" you whine.

Sana wags the scissors in her hand at you, carefully cutting the labels out of her new clothes (they itch her, they always do, tearaway labels are her best friend and every brand should use them for her convenience, damnit-) "Don't dish it if you can't take it. You wanna act like a drooling egomaniac and follow me around? Gonna get roasted for it."

"You can't walk around looking cute and not expect me to react," you say solemnly.

"Aw," Sana pouts, like you're an exceptionally pitiable dog at the pound. "You just want everyone to know you're mine."

"You're mine," you correct.

"Then prove it."

She's setting you up, and you're walking right into it.

"I will prove it," you say.

"Do it."

"Put the scissors down."

Sana smirks. "What if I wanna bring them?"

"Pretty please, put the scissors down and do not bring them."

As soon as the scissors are out of her hand, you're tugging her behind you to your bedroom.

"About the collar," you say, as you crowd her onto the bed, "I had a better idea."

"Impossible."

"I'm allowed to have one good idea a day, and I haven't had it yet."

Sana stretches, luxuriates. She's on her back, beneath you on the mattress, that damn skirt flipped up slightly at the hem from you making yourself comfortable over her.

"Well, tell me," she says.

You grin. "Just let me leave a little...mark, so everyone knows."

"That I was attacked...by an animal."

"Let it go, I'm trying to be sexy."

She giggles at your protests, and after a moment it evolves into a full-blown laugh that makes you forget how mean she was being to you, because fuck she's just so pretty.

You want to kiss her, but you hesitate for too long to instigate it, because she gets an arm around your neck and hauls you down to kiss her, instead.

You've got her, now.

Smiling against her mouth, you let your fingers wander under the hem of the skirt. Sana shivers, as you brush your fingers across the gusset of her panties, barely concealed under the tiny built-in shorts. But there will be plenty of time for that, after you get what you want.

She's lithe and strong and it always amazes you how much power she keeps in that little build, but it's easy enough for you to link your arm around her waist and flip her onto her front.

"If I leave some pretty marks," you say, tugging her up by the hips so that she's on her knees for you, "Then no one will get it twisted."

"That I belong to you?" she asks, breathless, into the mattress.

"That I belong to you," you correct.

There it is, that perfect pale stretch of upper thigh that shows under this skirt, the skirt itself still perfectly in place. You want to sink your teeth into her, leave a bruise that she'll feel when she sits, so that if other people see it in another little skirt like this, she'll just have to tell them...

Damn. You're getting a little ahead of yourself.

"Don't you wanna take the skirt off?" she asks, the picture of innocence.

You shake your head, even though she can't see you. "Nah. How else can I make sure everyone'll see?"

That gets her, a little bit, and she relaxes, goes more boneless with a tiny sound that you know is only a fraction of what she'll sound like if you really get going.

She yelps, as you bite down, right under the curve of her ass.

"You're not kidding about this," she says.

"Why would I be?"

Why, when that first bruise looks so pretty, purpling her skin unevenly? When that first one looks so lonely, how could you be blamed for thinking she needs, oh, ten more, just to make things right?

[isleofdarkness]

Black Magick chapter 6

In which Riah's anniversary is affecting, they learn a lot, and someone they don't know writes in the book.

Warnings for swearing, PTSD, mentions of unspecified childhood trauma

Are you all okay?

Ginny

Riah had puzzled over the question, somehow written in such a way that it sounded like a demand even through ink. The pain in his right hand, the one that had healed as a mess of broken bones but was still the more functioning of the two, had been better, so he’d been able to scrawl out;

We’re good.

Riah

If Mal wasn’t gone I would have her draw you a picture of how little we all believe you.

Uma

Slander. What changed while we were gone?

Riah

Yzla named the baby Hope. Seph brought us back a goat and a lot of seeds so Diego’s been working on building a greenhouse.

Uma

A greenhouse? Riah had no idea what it was. Apparently Diego didn’t either.

He saw it on the telly when he was six and he’s trying to recreate it. Think you can send a book on whatever the shit a greenhouse is?

Harriet

Nice to see that motherhood hadn’t tamed Harriet’s tongue one bit.

We can manage.

Riah

Cloth might be easier to get than bandages and a lot of the bandages won’t wash well. It might be better to get cloth.

Ginny

Hadie wants to know if you can remove his curses?

Uma

His curses? Riah’s brow wrinkled until it hit him- Hadie’s treasure. Children of Hades attracted valuable stuff, like the little gems they kept hidden in vases or the titanium used to make Riah’s cane. The problem was that the treasure Hadie pulled up was cursed. It would give anyone who wasn’t blood of Hades (or blessed by Hades, as Riah found out) extremely bad luck. But the curses were very simple, especially since they were on the Isle. Riah could probably do something about them.

Probably.

Riah

He wants to send you a jar of them next time so that you can use them to get money and buy stuff. Hades is worried about you lot getting in trouble for stealing.

Uma

They get in trouble for stealing over there?

Diego

Yep.

Riah

That’s fucked up, man. That place is weird.

Diego

It was, but Riah didn’t have enough time to tell Diego how else it was weird before Fairy Godmother was standing in front of him, towering over him. His heart stopped.

“Are you ready to rejoin tha class, Riannon?”

He was so scared that he didn’t even get angry about the name. After pulling his soul back into his body, Riah nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

Her eyes went down to what he was reading and his heart attempted escape through his throat, but she didn’t really look at it. Her gaze kept skirting around it until she huffed. He shut the book at quickly as demonly possible and she went back to the front of the room. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the rest of his friends relax ever so slightly.

They had all lived on an Isle of violence and uncertainty for their entire lives, but that was the scariest thing they had ever dealt with.

“Someone hands you a crying baby,” Fairy Godmother started again, tapping her point on the board with every word. “Do you A, curse it? B, lock it in a tower? C, give it a bottle? Or D, carve out its heart?”

I give it to Shan Yu or Harriet Hook. Where the hell am I getting a bottle, let alone milk for a baby, on the Isle? Riah thought, trying very hard not to glare. Gods he hated this woman.

Evie was clearly thinking the same thing because she raised her hand. When Godmother called on her, she drawled “What was that second option?”

The sarcasm couldn’t have been more clear if it had taken physical form and danced around naked with a name tag, but Fairy Godmother didn’t seem to catch it. She gave a small sigh of disappointment. “Anyone else? Mal?”

Mal, who had been drawing what looked like Uma and avoiding the discussion, spared the board one glance before giving the answer they all knew Fairy Godmother wanted. “C, give it a bottle.”

“Correct.”

Hard to believe that this was the fae who’d been instrumental in the annihilation of most of the fae of old and a good portion of the other ones. Hard to believe she’d been the one to kill the leadership of the Neverfay and burn down the pixie dust tree, sending those who survived into the fay dark ages or whatever they called it. It was disappointing, really. He would think a genocide person wouldn’t at least wear that atrocious shade of pastel lavender- how did one even make lavender of all colors a pastel? Unbelievable.

“Now-” he was going to kill himself. He was legitimately considering stabbing his good leg just to get out of the hell he was in. Just a little bit of charmspeak- no, no charmspeaking Fairy Godmother. No matter how much he wanted to. “You find a vial of poison!”

I use it to get myself the fuck out of here. He thought, trying not to concuss himself against the table as she listed the options. Five hands shot up, his not included. So of course she called on him. “Riannon?”

“It’s Zachariah if you insist on using my full name,” he snapped, finally losing his cool. “And what do I do with it? E, none of the above, because I drink it just to get me out of this bullshit.”

“Profanity is not per-”

“Shut up!” He shot to his feet as the chalkboard cracked, the lights flickering and windows shaking in his rage. He vaguely recognized that this was an extreme overreaction, but shit. This was one of the worst months of his life at the worst time of a month that was, ever since he turned ten, a month where he was already going through the full shit. It was just a shitty day, nearly the anniversary, and he was about to lose it. He was already sick of her and they’d only been in class for an agonizing thirty minutes. 

She puffed her chest, giving him a look that could peel paint. “Excuse me?”

“I said shut up!” Jay was next to him- when had he even gotten out of his chair- and his hands landed on Riah’s shoulders.

Don’t touch me don’t touch me don’t touch me-

“Get away from me!” Either he was a lot stronger than he thought or Jay just wasn’t expecting him to be as strong as he was. Riah wrenched away from the concerned djinni. For a brief, panicked moment, he reached for a well of power he’d been forbidden from. The rune on his back burned, and Riah saw clearly.

If he didn’t leave, someone was going to die. So he left, spinning on his heel after grabbing his stuff and storming out.

The students threw themselves out of his way as he stalked down the halls, eyes black and skin so pale they could see his black veins. The lights flickered as he walked, making the shadows seem to reach for him. Maybe they were. He wouldn’t know.

Without even meaning to he found himself outside, his feet carrying him into the woods. Through the woods, across a bridge, and to… some sort of pond? With a weird little gazebo? And King Ben?

The sight of Ben was enough to shock him out of his haze. Oh- oh fuck. Maybe if he was really quiet-

“Oh! Riah?”

Nope.

“... Hi…” He waved awkwardly. Think think think panicked brain not working go on instinct- “How are you?”

Instincts bad.

Ben gave him a strange look, kind of like pity but… nicer? “I think the question is how are you doing? Are you okay? You look pretty upset.”

“I…” Why was his mouth so bent of embarrassing him? “Just a small issue- with a class. But I’m doing a lot better now and I’m gonna go so-”

“No,” Ben ordered. Riah froze and the boy king flushed. “Sorry. You don’t look like you’re doing that well. Do you want to sit? The water is pretty calming.”

And his feet, the traitors, carried him over to stand on the edge, next to Ben. The look he was giving Riah- it was sweet and fond and gentle and Riah did not like it. His face heated as he looked down at the water, so clear he could see the rocks at the bottom. “What’re you looking at?”

“Was I staring?” Ben chuckled awkwardly and oh gods, this was painful. He would take it over Remedial Goodness any day, though.

He hadn’t spent much time around Ben, but something about him made Riah feel… nice. Warm. Like there was a friendly campfire going in his chest, warming him from this inside. When he’d interacted with him before, he’d noted that Ben was a very physical person. He had a tendency to make physical contact, clapping him on the shoulder and stuff like that. And while he was being careful not to do it now, no doubt worried about freaking Riah out, they were close enough that Riah could feel the heat of him and that was nice, too. Part of him wanted to lean against Ben but he resisted. That wasn’t how things were done, he was sure, and he had horns. And it disappointed him that he couldn’t for… some reason?

He wasn’t angry anymore but he was confused. He didn’t understand the feeling he was getting or why he felt like it. It was weird.

“Are you tired?” Ben asked, ever considerate.

“Tired of Auradon,” Riah snarked before he could think. To his surprise, Ben laughed.

“That’s fair. Just give it some time. Change is always hard under the best of circumstances. I can’t even imagine how hard it is for all of you.” Ben gave him a smile that made something in Riah melt. “But seriously. You look exhausted.”

“Just what every guy wants to hear,” He drawled.

Ben wasn’t letting him get out of this. “The floor isn’t the best but it’s comfortable enough. Sit down for a bit. I can get you out of classes for as long as you need. Do you mind telling me what happened?”

The rune of his back was still burning as Ben basically psychologically wrestled Riah to sit, never touching him but somehow making him sit anyway. Riah wanted to get away from this weird place and the weird magick he could sense, but he couldn’t. He’d used too much in his little tantrum and even more trying to contain it. He was exhausted. So he sat. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it at the expulsion hearing.”

Was that a thing they would do? Ben didn’t seem to think so. “I doubt such measures will be taken, so I would like to hear it from you.”

How could he be so calm? Even Seph would have gotten snappy with him by now and she was an angel. Riah groaned. “I blew up at Fairy Godmother and her utter bullshit, lost my temper, broke the chalkboard, windows, and lights with my magic, told her to shut up twice, cursed at her, almost killed Jay, left class without being dismissed, and stalked through the halls like a goddamn nightmare instead of dealing with my problems like a mature person. I’m getting expelled.”

Ben shook his head. “No, you aren’t. At least it isn’t likely. Can you tell me more about what led up to your reaction?”

“What are you, a therapist?” Ben gave him a patient look and how could this guy be so convincing without saying anything? Riah groaned again for good measure but fessed up. “She was doing her Remedial Goodness bullshit, which is just answering the questions the way she wants you too, called me Riannon instead of Riah or Zachariah because she thinks my name is Riannon for some reason, and I just snapped.” He snapped his fingers emphatically.

The boy king gave him an understanding nod. “So you got angry at her. You told her to shut up?”

“Actually, I told her to call me Zachariah if she wouldn’t call me Riah, then said I would drink the bottle of poison to get myself out of her class. She got on me for swearing and then I interrupted her and told her to shut up.”

Ben considered for a second. “Do you feel that Remedial Goodness is helping you at all?”

“No,” Riah scoffed, leaning his head back. The position was surprisingly comfortable. Who knew that sitting on the ground and leaning on a pillar could feel good? “It’s not about teaching us anything other than answering how she wants us to answer. We all know what she wants us to say and even if we didn’t, we would still choose the right answers because we aren’t monsters. Well, we are, but the stuff she thinks we’d do is beyond pale even by Isle standards. We don’t kill babies, we turn poison over, we don’t torture innocent people. Those on the Isle who do, we hate them. She should have given us some goodness test or some shit.”

After a moment of consideration, Ben nodded again. “I think that’s a good idea.”

“What.” He had been joking. That was a joke.

“A test for goodness. Something like the standardized testing for math or English. I won’t be able to get the class removed entirely but I might be able to shift the curriculum to suit what you actually need,” Ben gave him an encouraging smile. “Yeah, I think it’s a great idea. I’ll talk to you all later about how you think I should go about it. Thank you.”

What? He had shown up halfway to a panic attack, practically in a demonic form, interrupted whatever Ben was doing, confessed to performing illegal magick and disrespecting Fairy Godmother, criticized the school, and Ben was thanking him? “You’re weird.”

Ben laughed. “I can live with that.”

“You just became weirder. Why are you even here?”

Relaxing to lean against one of the pillars, Ben shrugged. “Same reason as you. I come here when I’m stressed out- I didn’t think anyone else knew about it.”

Oh. Oh no. He’d ruined this place for Ben. Ben was being so unreasonably nice to him and this was how he repaid him. By ruining the place he went to calm down. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mind.” He sounded so genuine. Riah was usually skeptical at best, but he couldn’t help but buy what Ben was telling him. “I think someone else should know about this place. It’s a very special place.”

“The magic?” Riah asked. Ben nodded. “What kind of magic is it? I can’t quite place it.”

“It’s Endless.” Riah’s head turned so fast her nearly broke a horn. “Older than my father’s monarchy. Adam Constantine told me that before Delight became Delirium, she made a lot of places like this, magical places. The only known one is Neverland- I haven’t told anyone I found this. It’s very hard to find if you haven’t been here before and I think she made it that way for a reason.” Ben seemed to realize something and gave Riah a curious look. “How did you find this place?”

He couldn’t answer that. If he told Ben that part of his heritage he would be sent back to the Isle for sure. “How did you find it?”

“John Constantine made a charm to locate places like these before he disappeared. His son Adam gave it to me a while back- I think he wanted to encourage some rebellion. But the charm only worked once, to bring me to this place.”

John Constantine. He made a mental note to look up that name later. If this John Constantine could make a tool to find something hidden by an Endless, what else would he be able to make? What else could already be made? And if Constantine was alive, Riah could find him. If he wasn’t, he could get Nico to find him. This John Constantine might be useful.

“But you didn’t answer my question. How did you know to come here?”

He wasn’t getting out of it. “I don’t know.” It wasn’t technically a lie- he definitely wasn’t the grandchild of Delight and he had no idea if the one he was related to could find the magic of the others. It just wasn’t giving away all of the information. “Must be a grandchild of Hecate thing. You know, goddess of using magic. I guess I must have sensed it here and just followed without thinking about it.” That could also be true. Maybe it was Hecate’s fault. More likely, considering his luck, that it was the whole blood-of-an-Endless thing.

All else failed, he would say the blood was from Death or Destruction. Hell, he’d even go for the closest to the truth, Despair. Just not the real one. No one would ever trust him again if they knew the real one. Which was why he couldn’t charmspeak Fairy Godmother.

“I wonder…” Ben muttered, seeming to realize something. He looked at the water. “Riah, take your boots off and put your feet in the water like I am.”

Riah gave him a look. What? “Why?”

“The water in enchanted to remove spells. I wonder if it could remove your curse.”

Oh.

Oh shit.

He tried not to hope but got out of his boots as quickly as possible, taking off his socks and rolling up his jeans. He nearly fell of the platform for how quickly he shoved his bare feet into the water, and oh.

The water was pleasantly warm and silky, feeling more like a soft oil than the tides Riah knew from home. The warmth of it filled him, traveling through his veins and fixing everything it found. His misshapen bones stopped aching, his exhaustion faded, and most importantly, his curse relented. For the first time in his life, his lungs expanded and stopped not because of the curse, but because they couldn’t fill themselves anymore.

“Holy shit.” His amulet pulsed and he felt another surge of magic wrapping around his lungs, this one like armor instead of a noose. The curse was still there, he could still feel it writhing in displeasure, but he could breathe.

He could breathe.

“Holy shit,” he repeated. Ben’s head tilted, a soft expression on his face. Riah’s face heated and he turned away. “What?”

“The waters like you-” What the absolute fuck did that mean? “And I think they’re right to.”

Ben wasn’t usually one to just blurt things out. For some reason, that changed when he was around Riah.

Riah was gorgeous, anyone could see. A mop of soft, black, shaggy corkscrew curls, skin as white as the moon, soft jawline, glittering ruby eyes framed by thick lashes, and his soft, thin, pale lips. It was hard to keep his gaze from flitting to those lips. The more Ben looked at him, the more small things he noticed- Riah’s ears were pointed just a little bit, less than even Neverfay ears. He had freckles, faint and just barely visible, splattering across his nose. There were small scars on his face- one right at the end of his eyebrow, one across his bottom lip, one down his nose, and one almost hidden in his hairline. Small things, probably what most would consider imperfections, but Ben loved them. They made him more beautiful.

But back to the matter at hand- Riah somehow managed to remove the pieces between mind and mouth. This was why Ben had played middle man to tell Riah that the sentient waters liked him, and why he had openly supported their decision. And this way why Riah was looking at him like he’d just said the most baffling thing ever. He guessed he had.

“Oh-” He stuttered, trying to salvage the situation, “What I meant was-”

Riah started laughing. Not one note of malice, just laughing. Laughing as though he’d just heard the best news ever.

Ben hadn’t even known one could love the sound of another person laughing. But he did.

“You are so weird,” Riah cackled, enunciating every syllable. “Gods, I love that. You, sir, are awesome.”

Anxiety vanishing, Ben gave Riah his best smile. “So are you.”

“Joshua, this is Jasmine.”

“Jas? I get the feeling this isn’t a social call.”

“It isn’t. After school Jabari is going to bring you to my palace, I’m calling an emergency meeting. Spread the word to the others, it’s about those children.”

“What happened?”

“If I say it, I’m going off. Some new information has come to light, very disturbing information, and we need to discuss it as soon as possible.”

“Got it, I’ll spread the word.”

“Tell everyone to watch out for those children. What I just found out… Make sure they’re okay. We’ll speak more later.”

“Ben says Riah’s okay,” Jane met them the second they left, just before they tore outside to look for him. It had taken every ounce of charm Mal, Evie, and Jay had to keep Godmother from going on a warpath long enough for Mal to spell her. Everything was fixed, Godmother would only remember Riah leaving peacefully without answering the question. If Mal wasn’t so damn worried, she would have been fuming. They’d only been in the school for one day and Riah’s dumbass was already swearing at the headmistress.

She was going to murder him. “Where are they?”

“Ben said-” Jane paused, blinking, then corrected herself, “Well, Riah’s right behind you.”

Of course he is. Mal spun on her heel to face the idiot who had appeared behind them, ready to either slug him or comfort him, but he shoved a notebook into her arms before she could say anything. “We don’t have much time, Deenie and I have nursing. I just found out a shit ton of shit I wrote it all down I think we can use it we’ll all talk during lunch.” He pulled a crystal out of his bag and pushed it into her hand. “Make a wish you’ll see what I mean this is huge gotta go.”

Without any explanation he rushed past them, moving very fast for a guy on a cane. Mal blinked and turned again. “Get back here!”

There was a flash of magic, a kind she couldn’t identify, and Riah was back in front of her as though he had teleported. He groaned. “You had one wish and you used it on that.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Mal snapped, talking about everything he had done in the past hour. Riah gave her an annoyed look and that just pissed her off even more. What right did he have to be annoyed?

“Well, Mal, if I had a week I could maybe start to answer that. Alas, I have only one minute, so I’ll be brief- a lot.” His humor died and he glanced back at Jane, who was staring at them. “Too much company right now. Read what I wrote-” the warning bell chimed, making them flinch (it sounded way too much like the Twisted Neverfay, to the point Mal glanced around to spot the little monsters before they could spot her,) and Riah’s hand tightened on his cane. “This is major, believe me. We have to go.”

“So do the rest of you,” Jane insisted, staring at the crystal with wide eyes. “You’ll all have sex ed together after this and history after that.”

So they wouldn’t have to wait until lunch. Mal nodded and her crew dispersed, each moving to their respective classes.

Usually Mal loved geology (maybe it was a fae thing, maybe it was an ADHD thing, she had no clue,) but she couldn’t pay attention as the class broke into groups to begin identifying if sample rocks were igneous, sedimentary, or metamorphic. Riah was right when he’d said it was major.

The Endless. Seven beings of unimaginable power, power over even the strongest of titans. Destiny, Death, Dream, Desire, Despair, Destruction, and Delirium. Delight. The creator of Neverland, of gods knew how many other places one could only access if they knew where they were going. Places that could be used as bases, as places to hide stuff, as places to practice magic. Wishing stones, water to remove enchantments, trees from which powerful magical tools could be crafted. If they could find another one…

John Constantine. Carlos had fixed up their new laptops- courtesy of some Mister Whitmore- to not use school wifi and bypass all blocks, but it was still hard to find anything on John Constantine until she went onto the Monster Net. The stuff he did, the stuff he was capable of… If they could have this guy as an ally, they could do anything.

Both of those opened up doors to new magic, according to Riah. Full-on magick-with-a-k. Sigils, components, spells, beings with more power than even elder fae like her mother. Magick that couldn’t be tracked, like the kind he’d been using. Magick on the Isle, maybe. Magick in ways Auradonians weren’t creative enough to fathom.

The level of what they could do…

She could barely believe it.

“Now,” Snow White called, “Can anyone tell me the secret to managing a successful kingdom?” Evie’s hand shot up and Snow grinned. She already loved having her younger sister in her class. “Evie?���

“The key to running a successful kingdom is keeping your subjects happy while managing foreign relations.”

“Correct again,” she said. So far, Evie had gotten every question right. The other students seemed happy to let her carry the lesson. “Now, who can tell me how you keep your subjects happy?” Evie’s hand went up. “Yes, dear?”

Evie was beaming. “A leader has to work in the best interest of their citizens and the citizens have to be able to trust that their leader will. This is done by communicating and listening.”

“There we go.” She turned to the entire class. “You have to listen to your subjects, for they outnumber you. Does anyone know what consent of the governed means?” Evie again. “Evie?”

“It means that a government is only legitimate if it has the support of the citizens,” Evie recited. “The people surrender some rights and freedoms for the guarantee that their government will protect them and their civil liberties. If the government doesn’t protect them by not working in their best interest, the social contract is broken and the people have every right to revolt and regain what they surrendered.”

“Right again,” Snow praised, making Evie’s smile even brighter.

Maybe Auradon didn’t have the imagination to guess what she was thinking, maybe they didn’t know how horribly the social contract had been broken, but Evie was smiling for more reasons than met the eye. Her mother’s lessons had covered this and this class confirmed it- when the social contract was broken, citizens had the right to revolt.

The social contract had been broken. The Isle had the right to revolt.

Most of the cars in the school’s shop were client work. Audrey pointed out which one belonged to which person, pointing to almost all of them. All except one.

In the corner of the room, on top of a frame machine that had so much rust it couldn’t possibly work, sat an old junker van. The paint was faded, worn through in some places, there were so many dents he couldn’t count them, rust on almost every panel, and some of the panels were even missing. But the frame looked intact, he’d fixed up worse-

“Audrey?” She’d instructed them to call her by her first name, something most of the Auradon kids refused to do but he had no problem with. “What about that car?”

She followed his gaze to the junker and shrugged. “It was here before me and no one ever asks about it, I assume it’s just scrap.”

If no one wanted it… “What if someone fixed it up?”

She shrugged, giving him a look as if she knew what he was hoping. “I suppose who ever managed that would get to keep it. Seems fair, si?”

Basically, if he was willing to put in effort, he could get them a car. Not just a car, a van. Excitement welled up in his chest. “Fair. I’ll see if I’m up to it.”

Part of Neverland had been used to make the Isle, Riah knew that now. That was how the Twisted Neverfay existed, how the shadows of Pan and his Lost Boys called out to the children at night, why there could be so much in the woods but no one dared approach them. He’d never known until Ben had said it, but it explained so much and opened up so many doors. If part of Neverland was used to make the Isle, what else was there?

There was Devil’s Bayou somewhere no one knew, probably in the woods. Maleficent’s realm, according to Uma, had been made into Doomed. Chernabog’s mountain, but no one had the balls to get close. There must have been more, so much more- had they been sitting on top of a goldmine without knowing it?

As he listened to Sweet and Claudine took notes, he wrote to Uma and Harriet for other places. Ursula’s cavern, Salazan Grum, the Elephant Graveyard must have been hidden somewhere, there were so many that must have been hidden somewhere. So much magic none of them had noticed. How had none of them noticed it?

Probably no one had thought Auradon would be that stupid.

They all knew there was magic on the Isle. Magic inside of them that none of them could release, sure, but there were places where it snuck through for them. The ocean, giving the cecaelias and mermaids magic. The shadows, bending to the will of the Facilier sisters and, once he grew into his power, creating doorways for Hadie. Words still held weights, debts. The moon and stars, filling Ginny Gothel with strength and telling Reza secrets that saved lives. The life in even those without magic, a magic that could never be stolen from anything for as long as it lived. Hell, Hades fucking Olympian lived (un-died?) there. They all knew there was magic on the Isle. Most just didn’t know there might be a lot they could use.

He was talking himself in circles. The point was, he thought, that Auradon’s no-magic barrier wasn’t effective in the first place, and now he knew that there might be enough magic hidden on the Isle to overpower it. King Beast had really been that stupid.

He barely even noticed the time passing. It felt like it was only seconds before the bell (gods, he was going to curse that fucking bell) trilled. He and Claudine stayed in their seats, having sex ed in the same room, and he noticed Doctor Sweet making his way over to them, but everything else in the world disappeared when he looked down at the book. In an unfamiliar, spidery calligraphy, someone had added something.

The Dark Kingdom.

The fucking what?

Riah

No response.

Who the fuck wrote that?

Riah

No response.

Hello?

Riah

Finally, someone answered.

Narcissa went into labor and we had to leave the room. All of us left. I don’t know who wrote that.

Uma

Claudine reached over and flipped the book to a random page just as Sweet stepped up to the table. He gave them a kind smile. “Riah, Claudine. How are you two doing?”

“As well as can be expected, sir.” He quite liked Doctor Sweet and even if he didn’t, he would rather have the man as an ally than an enemy. No matter how bad the anniversary was effecting, he was going to be nice to Sweet. 

Sweet chuckled. “There’s no need to call me ‘sir,” you know.”

“I don’t want to offend.” Adults could be weird like that. They wanted to be called sir or ma’am for whatever reason and they got angry if they weren’t.

“You wouldn’t,” Sweet reassured. “I’ve been called far worse things than my name.” Claudine winced in sympathy. “Are you two understanding the material?”

“Yes,” Claudine said, smiling ever so slightly. “You do a wonderful job of explaining it.”

“That’s great.” It felt like he was x-raying them with his eyes. Riah resisted the urge to squirm. Why the analysis? “I just want to make sure you two know that you can always come to me. All of you can. If you need help with class, or food, supplies, books, whatever, feel free to ask. No matter what, okay?”

“Okay.” Claudine sounded a lot less confused than Riah felt.

“And stick with the black shelf.”

What? Claudine gave him a confused look and turned back to ask Sweet what that meant, but the doctor was already walking away. Riah blinked, equally mystified, then shook it off and turned back to the page.

Only to find the key Sweet used to open the closet tucked between the pages.

Evie had plenty of news on some “social contract” and “consent of the governed,” which she was definitely going to have to explain to them later. Jay had gotten the name of a rock shop- the place where the geology teacher got all the fancy rocks and gems- and learned that they would also buy stuff. Mal’s head ached from all of the stuff she’d learned about this whole magick-with-a-k thing. Carlos was fixed to get them a car. Claudine had three pages of notes on medical shit that Ginny Gothel could use to save lives. Riah had information on the Isle and the actual key to the medicine closet, apparently given to him by Doctor Sweet.

In short, they all had a shit ton to talk about.

Claudine and Evie alternated taking notes as the six passed a notebook back and forth, writing everything they had learned and the progress they had made. Mal wasn’t even that pissed at Riah anymore, not with the goldmine he’d found. Her crew had done so well. They were never going to hear the end of this once she finally got to praise all of them about it.

So much was going right, despite a few small setbacks. Realizing that made anxiety twist in Mal’s gut.

With all of this going so well, the other shoe was going to be heavy. When it dropped, it was going to kill someone.

And she didn’t know when it was going to drop.

[not-an-a3-fan]

July Birthday Boys!

One last day to wish the July Birthday boys a happy birthday!

We really should have worked on this piece earlier into the month. bUt wE dIdN’T sO nOw wE’Re hErE 〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜. Fuck that pattern. None of my homies like the pattern. - Mod Hydrangea

Everyone give it up for MVP Mod Hydrangea who carried this entire piece while I just sketched the Kumon. Give her all your support this is no longer a request oh my gods >:3 - Mod Peony

[buckybarnesdiaries]

white wolf: “the story of a first date”

first part — second part — third part — fourth part (soon)

© @capsgrantrogers

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Sam helps Bucky to ask you out for a date and it's a disaster, but he gets it.

word count: 3.147 words. (not sorry, it worth it, i promise!!!)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being the cutest gentleman in the whole wide world, and sam keeping an eye on him.

author notes: as it happened with the first part, i'm not really happy with the result but i had so much fun writing it and i think that that made this writing perfect, so i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed it. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

The car stopped because of a red light, a moment where Sam took the advantage to turn at his copilot, glancing at Bucky from top to bottom in complete silence. Analyzing him. The soldier tilted his head raising an eyebrow, showing his curiosity about what the hell he was doing.

“What are you gonna wear, uh?” Sam asked then, maintaining a serious gesture on his face.

“Clothes”. Unworriedly, he put back his eyes to the front window.

“You probably look good naked, but that’s not what I’m talking ‘bout”.

“Just… some jeans, a shirt, and a jacket”.

“And shoes, I guess”.

Bucky turned on his seat towards his friend, squinting confused for the interrogatory. “Who cares?”

“About the shoe—”

“About the clothes”.

“Man, it’s a date! Do you wan’her to remember this night as the night Bucky Barnes shown up as a Russian bum?”

“I’m from Brookl—”.

“Yeah, but you look like mother Russia just spat you to the world”.

Sam rolled his eyes as a sigh escaped his mouth. Shaking his head, he took the next corner to the fifth avenue changing the planes they had in mind. A good outfit meant a good date. A good date meant happy soldier. Happy soldier meant no trouble. See the point? So the Falcon would take care of the Winter Soldier today. If only Steve could see them. He’d feel proud, that was for sure. They visited a couple of shops, finally letting Sam take control over the situation and pick the clothes he would wear for you. He had good taste, everybody knew that, and Bucky couldn’t complain about his choices.

Even less when the distinctive black suit dressed his anatomy to perfection. Spinning around in front of the mirror, he felt different. He looked different. He looked good, but not as he’d like. Holding the bucket of flowers once he was ready, Bucky left his apartment straight to the garage under the building. He was nervous, he couldn’t lie. But he had that sensation inside him that made him believe everything would be okay for the first time since he woke up.

The road didn’t take him more than ten minutes, not really worried about the time given that he had planned to arrive a little sooner than accorded. Life seemed like it was smiling at him, finding a parking lot in the same entrance. Landing his blue eyes on the rearview mirror, Bucky took a last view at his reflection, brushing back his hair as he used to do in the forties. He grabbed then the flowers he bought for you and stepped out of the car, trying to remember the advice Sam gave him. Resting his back against the copilot's door, he waited impatiently for you.

“Hey, you”.

His heart stopped for a second, raising his orbs to the man coming closer. Before he could react, the man in question tucked a hand beneath Bucky's jacket. Patting him down.

“What the hell are you doing, Sam?” He questioned irritatedly, slapping his hands and causing him to laugh.

“Just checking you didn't bring the notecards again”.

“Yeah, very funny…”

“Man, look at you! Should be illegal to look this good, uh?” Sam helped him to put on the jacket again, receiving another slap from his friend.

“Don't touch me”. Scowling, he fixed the flowers in his left hand, wanting them to be perfect. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”

“Watch you till (Y/N) comes. Lemme take a picture, I feel like a proud father on his son's prom day”.

“You're not m— Get the hell outta here, Sam”.

“Fighting again, kids? Should I call your mama?”

As Bucky heard you scoff, his soul abandoned. His pupils dilated. His legs trembled. And he could swear that everything disappeared around him when he watched you going downstairs, swinging your hips unconsciously sensual, with a black dress fitting you like a glove. If this morning Bucky wanted to marry you, now he wanted to spend the rest of his life by your side. Your makeup was on point, just like your hair, not being too formal but enough to run him out of words.

“Steve is off-duty, so, what 'you gonna do, soldier?” Sam mocked, an instant before noticing how pale Bucky was. He couldn't help but slap the back of his neck to bring him back to reality.

“I, uh… flowers… I bought you…”

“You're not Yoda”. Sam whispered as the other offered you the present.

“C'mon, stop messing with him”. You clicked your tongue, right before you drew an adorable smile on your lips, leaning to kiss Bucky's cheek. “Thank you”.

“You're welcome”. He just answered, responding to your same gesture while opening the door for you.

“Such a gentleman…” His playful murmur made Bucky frown and nudge him, trying to stop him from saying anything else and ruin the occasion.

“I'll bring him back at ten”. You joked palming his chest.

“The point is to not bring him back to me”. Sam cackled, shaking his head and taking a step back.

Once in the car turning on the engine, James joined the road after checking you were good. Never in his life he had driven with so much care as if he was carrying a bomb by his side. He set on the radio, not really knowing how to start a conversation, watching you through the corners of his eyes caressing the flowers over your lap. No one had bought you them before, thinking it was a thing that only happened in movies. But then, you met Bucky. An old-fashioned man, making yourself wonder how he was the same the news used to say he was a cold-blood assassin.

“What have you thought?”

“Uh?”

“About the date”.

“Sam told me about a rest—”.

“Okay, okay, Bucky. Pull over”. You couldn't help but burst into laughter, as his face was pale again thinking you were about to step out and end the date.

“Sorry, did I…?”

You swiveled at him on your seat, kissing your teeth and squinting inevitably. Studying his face you knew how afraid he was, and it was the most adorable reaction ever. You could have kissed at that precise instant, but it'd have been a little awkward.

“Where do you wanna go?”

The question didn't take him by surprise, actually. He was still getting used to doing the things he desired and not what other people asked him to do. The restaurant was a fancy place with a distinguished menu according to what his friend explained to him, but it wasn't the kind of site that he'd normally go, or that represented him.

“When I, uh… came back, I discovered that my favorite burger joint in Brooklyn was still standing”. Bucky told you, facing you after finishing the sentence. “They prepare the best burgers of the whole New York and you can decide what ingredients add, and the bread, and the kind of meat. And it still having the original decoration”.

You reclined on your seat, just staring at him talking with that kind of burning passion about something he loved. Puckering your lips, you nodded your chin. The fact that not only he wanted to take you to a different place, but a place that he used to go to when he was young made butterflies flutter within your belly. Bucky wanted to make you part of his future, but also his past. That made the difference.

“Sounds good to me”.

“Really?” He inquired funnily confused, wrinkling his nose and forehead.

“Really”.

The shine that appeared within his eyes made you place a hand on his cheek to urge him to turn his head and drive again. An innocent gesture that provoked him a lively giggle. If that man knew all the things he caused you, he'd have taken the step months ago.

As the night went on and Bucky was losing his shyness, he talked to you about the good old times. Before HYDRA, before the winter, before the war. When he was a kid with no worries more than keeping Steven safe from the bullies. It was nice to disconnect from the present, from the gazes around the two of you, from the back talks, only enjoying your dinner and your conversation. You talked to Bucky about how was to be raised on a farm, surrounded by open fields and animals, to join the army years later. Without going into details that could make him remember the old bad times, you told him about what you used to do, your missions, and how you were wounded in combat after being shot and fell from a helicopter.

Bucky felt confident enough to compare it with how everything started. Falling from a wagon to the snow. But as soon as his voice became lower, you couldn't help but hold his gloved left hand and intertwine your fingers with his. And you could swear you felt him shaking for a brief moment because of your touch.

“So, what, uh? It was a forties trend to jump into the void?” You tried to joke, wanting to feel relaxed.

“Yeah, seems like”. He mumbled curling up his lips. “Listen… I really want to… open up, and I know it’s easier with you because… y’know, you work doing this”.

“Hold on, Bucky”. You laughed waving your free hand, shaking your chin as you closed your eyes for a second. “That has sounded really bad”.

“Wait, wh— Oh, shit, no, no, no”.

For the first time since you walked into the small restaurant, his laughter was lively, unworriedly, honest.

“Take it easy, just kidding”. You grinned, nailing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on your palm. “But… this isn’t work. We’re not doing therapy, we’re… knowing each other. And I don’t want to pressure you to talk about something you don’t feel prepared to, okay?”

“I know”.

Bucky couldn’t believe how much you seemed to empathize with him, not judging his acts nor his past, not deciding that the date wasn't a good idea nor running away. He couldn’t believe the less importance you were giving to his arm made of vibranium; usually, people used to freak out, to feel frightened somehow about the things it could do. But you were there, fingers playing with the others as if it was the most common and natural act in the world. And, for you, it was. That was you in all your best. Considerate, smart, patient, lovingly. The rainbow after a stormy life. Everything that Bucky needed in his life to start from scratch and be his better version. A shoulder to lean on and a reason to come back home.

“Was afraid of asking you out”. He confessed after some seconds admiring each other. Any person closer would say you had been dating for a long, long time by the way you had to keep silent and not feel uncomfortable.

“Why?”

“You came from war and made your world a place to live. I’m still stuck there”.

“I have my own red flags”. Clicking your tongue, you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, really? Please, surprise me”. Bucky teased you sitting up on his chair, not loosening the gentle grip around your left hand.

“I put the milk before cereals”.

“Oh… Oh, God”. He let out, pretending to be horrified and running a hand on his face. “Goddammit… you’re a monster, ma’am. I don’ think this is going to work”.

“Excuse me?” You chuckled, parting your lips in a breath while leaning over the table to palm his right shoulder. “It wasn’t me who added lettuce to the burger”.

“What? What’s the matter with that, uh?”

“Lettuce kills the savor!”

“Y’know what kills the savor? Ketchup. Today, people use ketchup literally with everything… And that’s disgusting”.

“Okay! Next time, no lettuce, and… no ketchup”.

“That’s a big challenge”. Bucky scoffed tenderly squeezing your hand between his cold fingers.

“I’ll live, Sergeant Barnes”. You narrowed your eyes and crinkled your nose at the same time.

“I was talking about a second date, not about your issue with ketchup”.

“So was I”.

A goofy smirk appeared on Bucky’s face, biting his inner cheek as he assented with his head. Seeing you again, knowing that you wanted it —that you wanted him—, made him trust Dr. Raynor’s words. He was having a second chance to do the right thing. To live and to be.

You wanted to add something else when the clock in his wrist started to beep. Curious, you raised an eyebrow. “We have to leave”.

“Why?”

“Sam told me you work tomorrow at eight, which means you’ll get up at six and a half… maybe seven. While I pay, take you home, all that stuff… I don’ want you to be tired in the morning”.

Bucky would never stop to amaze you, looking up to him in silence to contemplate how he called the bartender and beckoned his free hand to ask for the bill.

“What…? What are you doing?” He chuckled embarrassed, taking his beer to sip.

You cleared your throat when you realized how stupid you should look right now, shaking your head as you freed his cold hand from yours to find unlock your phone as soon as the guy brought the dataphone.

“Hey, no, no. I asked you out, I pay”. Bucky began to fight with you, provoking some laughs on the table as you tried to put your screen above the tpv.

“Well, welcome to the twenty-first century”. You hummed as the operation was confirmed.

“I’ll pay next time”. He declared licking his incisors, prior to his lips.

You wished the ride back home to last forever, not wanting to end the date. But the car reached your neighborhood in a blink of eyes. You couldn't help but sigh barely appreciably for your companion, gazing through the window until double parking in front of your apartment. You turned towards him, hearing the engine shut off. Bucky seemed disappointed like you, not being able to remember when was the last time he had a break, he had fun. The date was nicer than he expected but the idea of not knowing exactly when he was going to see you again was killing him from the inside.

“I'll accompany you”. He declared undoing his seat belt as you did to step out.

You reacted with a delicate smile, holding the bucket of flowers against your abdomen while walking to the front door of the building. That moment was a little uncomfortable, not being sure about how to say goodbye, just looking like two teens in love.

“Thank you for tonight, Bucky”. You uttered without thinking about it. “It's been the best night I've ever had”.

“Next will be better, I promise”.

“That's a big challenge”. You chuckled repeating his words a while ago in the restaurant.

“I'll live”. He nodded convinced, glancing at you bowing down your interest to the red roses between your hands.

How could you tell him that you were dying to be together again? That you wouldn't mind waking up sooner and having breakfast? You bit your inner upper lip, trying to find the correct words to say, without sounding like you were feeling something else to a physical attraction. Bucky was hot as hell, that wasn't up to debate, but he was the kindest and charmingest man you had known. He was sensible and strong at the same time. You both complemented the other like the pieces of a puzzle and you never thought something like that could happen to you. To find your other half and having it so clear you didn't want anyone else.

“I am, uh… free tomorrow”.

His words pushed you out of your thoughts, putting up your attention to a Bucky almost flushing, stroking the back of his head, and having the impression that he could scare you.

“Got a break for lunch, if you want”. You proposed without hesitation.

His eyes sparkled with happiness, holding your left hand with his to bring it to his mouth, placing a fond kiss on the back. Such a gentleman, like Sam said, inducing your cheeks to burn. And then, you saw him doubting about taking another step. You wanted it too to happen, tho, leaning forward to press your lips together. Your eyes snapped closed at that precise instant, not having any rush, tasting each other's and shortening the distance between both of you by his free arm getting wrapped around your waist. The kiss was innocent but passionate. It was warm, intimate, trying to transmit all the chemistry you woke up within the other with only one look, with only one smile. Breaking it —much to your regret— when you needed air to breathe. And even so, Bucky rested his forehead against yours freeing your hand to place it on the right side of his neck.

Neither of the two of you opened your eyes, extending the moment as much as you could. You felt he craved to spend the night with you, and you desired it too, but you also felt that he needed some time to get used to this new world he was living in. It wasn't easy. You thought back to the months after the war, the recovery, the loneliness you forced yourself to be in. You were in Afghanistan for three months. He had been fighting since nineteen forty. And he didn't want to ruin what you were building together.

“I should leave”. Bucky murmured against his wishes.

“See you tomorrow”.

At the moment you opened your eyes to meet the pale blue ones, your whole body felt weak. You saw the brightness in them after letting him know that the second date was going to happen and that it wasn't just a formality before disappearing, wiping out any minimal doubt by kissing him again. The last kiss. A good night, I'll dream with you kiss.

“I'm gonna play this on your wedding day, definitely”.

You screamed because of the unexpected metallic voice coming closer, clinging to Bucky's neck as his heart raced too. Redwing was suspended in the air some steps away from you, being controlled by Sam. Who else is not him, uh?

“I'm starting to think you have separation anxiety”. The soldier growled trying to hit the flying device with his flesh hand, hearing you laughing against his chest.

“Good night, kids”. You chuckled separating from Bucky.

“No kiss for me, soldier?”

“I'm not gonna kiss that thing, Samuel”.

“What about a howl, White wolf? Would be very appro—”.

“White wo—”.

“Please, don't. Don't ask”. Bucky begged you, licking his bottom lip while rubbing the back of his head, clearly ashamed.

“Hope you show me one day what it means…”

“Oh, he will… Just wait till the full moon”.

“Sam!” Bucky and you yelled in unison, you playfully, he annoyed.

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[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Blankets/Shirt Collar Shifting Just Enough To Have Bandages Peeking Out for the H/C prompts?

At first, I had no idea what to do with this, but then when I was brushing my teeth the entire thing just wrote itself <3

Geralt can't stop looking. He's had problems with starting at Jaskier before, but never like this; never with fear in his heart or the taste of bile on his tongue. Never with the knowledge that this will be the last time or very close to it.

But Jaskier's doublet is undone and his shirt ripped, revealing bandages that Geralt wrapped himself; a stark reminder of Jaskier's humanity, of his fragility. He has no place being out here with a witcher or rather, Geralt has no place trying to keep him. All he can offer Jaskier is a broken heart and an early grave.

They don't speak on their way back to town and Jaskier probably thinks Geralt is angry with him. He had acted angry, had been angry with himself for letting anything happen to Jaskier, but he hates that this is the last memory Jaskier will have of him. Geralt grits his teeth because he can never let anything like this happen again.

The inn is big and busy when they enter and all Geralt can think is that it will make it easier for him to slip out unnoticed. He rents a single room - a tiny token he allows himself, to spend one final night with Jaskier - and they make their way silently up to it. Their room is on the third floor and it is still early enough that Jaskier would normally hurry to the window to inspect their view, but he doesn't. He sets his things down and sits on the edge of the bed, carefully pulling off his doublet.

Geralt watches him, aches when he winces and wants so badly to go to him, to help him undress and tuck him into bed. But he doesn't. This is his fault and letting himself have Jaskier now is only going to hurt them both more tomorrow. So he strips mechanically out of his armour and his own clothes, taking extra care to lay them out neatly for the following morning.

When he can delay no longer, he turns to find Jaskier already in bed, turned away to face the wall. Geralt shuts his eyes and sighs softly. This won't be an amicable parting, then. He didn't expect it to be, not really, but he was hoping they might have one final night of normalcy before Geralt returned to the solitude of the path.

He slips into bed next to Jaskier, barely daring to breathe and shuts his eyes.

It's not yet dawn when Geralt wakes. Jaskier has shifted in his sleep, lying on his back with his lips slightly parted. He wrinkles his nose in his sleep and Geralt's stomach drops. He wonders if he'll ever be truly happy again knowing Jaskier is out there somewhere, but not with him.

He slips out of bed quietly, dressing only on his clothes and wrapping his armour for easy transport. He leaves his coin purse on the nightstand. Jaskier has been paying for most of their lodgings lately and it would be cruel for Geralt to leave him alone with nothing.

Geralt makes it to the stables before he breaks down. Emotions too numerous and varied to count boil up within him and he clenches his hands around the reins, forcing back tears. Roach nudges him with her nose, but he can't even bring himself to lift his head.

He doesn't know how long he stands like that before he pulls himself together, but the grey light of morning is creeping across the valley as he rounds the inn. There, sitting on the front steps wrapped in a sheet, is Jaskier. He doesn't stand up, he just looks at Geralt and Geralt feels as though he's been kicked in the stomach.

"You were just going to leave?" Jaskier asks, "After all this time, you were just going to leave without even saying goodbye?"

Geralt opens his mouth to speak, but nothing happens.

"I knew you were mad, but I thought I warranted a goodbye at least. Twenty years, Geralt."

He sounds devastated. Geralt always knew he'd break Jaskier's heart, but he didn't think he'd be around to witness it.

"It's for the best." Geralt says and when he glances up he can see the bandages again, more prominent without clothing in the way.

"For who?" Jaskier snaps, "because it's certainly not for me."

"Maybe you don't see it yet-" Geralt starts, but Jaskier interrupts, rising to his feet and storming over to him - the effect of which is slightly lessened by his rumpled hair and bedsheet.

"Fuck you, Geralt. I tried to save you. I did save you! I almost had to watch you fucking die and this is the thanks I get? I don't fucking think so. I deserve more than being left in the middle of the night. And I know you, I'd never see you again if you didn't want me to."

He reaches out and shoves him and to both their surprise, Geralt stumbles.

"You're right," Geralt says. "You deserve so much more. you deserve a life and you won't have one if I keep dragging you along with me."

"Dragging me-" Jaskier shouts, exasperated, "like there's anywhere else I'd be as happy. Geralt you're a big fucking idiot if you think leaving me is going to make me safe. Because that's what this is about isn't it? I thought you were mad but you're just freaking out because of this-" he grabs Geralt's hand, pressing his palm over the bandages, right above his heart.

Geralt can feel the firm, steady beat of it and he very nearly chokes.

" I'm right here," Jaskier says softly and when Geralt looks up he can see tears welling in his eyes, "right where I've always been." He folds both his hands over Geralt's and the sheet slips around his shoulders.

"Don't go," Jaskier whispers and Geralt breaks.

His knees buckle and he winds up on the ground with Jaskier in his lap, pressing him tightly against his chest. Tears burn the backs of his eyes and he buries his face in Jaskier's hair.

"I almost lost you," he chokes, "what would I do- if you-"

"Shh," Jaskier soothes, petting his hair. "I told you, I'm here. it's going to take a lot more than a fiend to get rid of me."

Geralt makes a small broken sound in the back of his throat and buries his face in Jaskier's neck. It's light before either of them moves and then it's only because Jaskier shivers.

"I'm okay," he insists, but Geralt bundles him back anyway, looking sadly at him. "Please come back to bed," he whispers, "tomorrow I'll book us another day and we can relax, spend the whole day in bed."

Geralt says nothing, but he lets Jaskier pull him to his feet. He follows him to the stable to settle Roach again and then Jaskier takes him back up to bed.

This time, Jaskier curls around him, pulling Geralt's head against his chest. Geralt hates the sight of the bandages, but when he lifts his hand he can feel the strength of Jaskier's heartbeat beneath them. And he focuses on that, that after everything they've been through, Jaskier is still standing strong. That maybe Geralt has more to offer him after all.

[morsartis]

The Bets Are On

You didn't always get dragged along on tours with Marvus, preferring to stay away from the sheer chaos of the limelight. It wasn't that you hated it but you certainly weren't a big fan of having Marvus within reach and yet still not being able to see him. The packed schedule that came with his tours were a drag and you weren't even bound by them. But Ourani and Revell had both asked you to be there, it was important that Marvus and his band were seen in a positive light while on an Earth bound tour. A surprising side effect of the current alliance between the two was the fact bands were allowed to perform on both planets for the first time. It was an opportunity that no one in the entertainment industry could pass up on- not even Marvus. Which was why you were there- they were trying to involve as many humans as possible as a show of good faith. Revell had been the most excited about it as the band's human sensitivity trainer. The fact he wasn't even human in the first place was both amusing and a glaring sign of Alternia's many problems. It'd be insulting if Revell wasn't so serious about his job, often consulting as many humans as he possibly could over the most minute detail and advocating for an actual human to do the training instead of himself. Unfortunately his hands were tied on that front.

Lost in your own thoughts you nearly fell off the chair you were sitting in when Ourani slammed the door to the break room open looking frazzled. His usually slightly wrinkled but tidy clothes were a wreck- tie askew and shirt buttoned wrong with his hair sticking up at odd angles. He looked like he'd survived a mob. "Thaaaat's it! I caaaan't do this aaaanymore! Maaaarvus is driving me to drink!" He shrieked the second the door swung closed behind him. You winced slightly and gave him a sympathetic smile.

"How I've laaaasted this long is aaaa daaaamn mystery!" He continued tossing his clipboard onto the table. You could only imagine what he'd been having to deal with.

"What did he do this time?"

"Whaaaat did he do this time? This time? Its less whaaaat he’s done aaaand more whaaaat he’s going to do! He purposely faaaailed every single humaaaan sensitivity course he waaaas instructed to taaaake! Do you haaaave aaaany ideaaaa how haaaard it waaaas to even get him to those courses? Its like trying to herd feraaaal purr-beaaaasts!” He all but wailed sinking down into the chair opposite from you. It creaked under his weight- built more for humans than adult trolls- and you feared it might collapse under the poor rust blood. The last thing he needed to happen when he was already this close to a break down.

“I know I talk a lot of shit about Marvus but he can’t be that bad.”

Those were clearly the wrong words to say to Marvus’ top personal assistant as Ourani looked at you with an expression bordering on murderous and manic.

“Oh, you think so huh? You think you caaaan haaaandle being Maaaarvus’ Personaaaal Aaaasistaaaant? You think you can do better thaaaan I caaaan? Fine! Why don’t you do my job todaaaay then? He’s got aaaa full schedule aaaand haaaas aaaalreaaaady shown signs of trying to blow it aaaall off!”

“Uh-,”

“Even better ideaaaa! We’ll maaaake aaaa bet out of it. If you caaaan get Maaaarvus to staaaay on traaaack I’ll paaaay some of thaaaat debt you owe to Gorjek.”

“Wh-,”

“Aaaand if you lose? I’ll finaaaally quit!” He was grinning wildly now, eyes bright with glee at the thought of quitting.

“How about if I win you just schedule Marvus a little down time?” You offered instead. Trying to hopefully keep him from losing it further.

“Fine.” He replied looking slightly less like he might jump over the table and throttle you or the next person to walk into the break room. With a more steadying breath Ourani extended his hand to shake on the bet and you gladly took it. Anything to keep him from going full American Psycho on everyone there. You both nearly lept out of your skins when his phone went off to let him know his short break was over. "How about that bet starts now and you go home to get some actual sleep?" You offered, Ourani nodded vigorously to that already shoving his clipboard into your hands. He couldn't seem to get out of there fast enough it seemed. You hoped he'd get some actual rest, the poor guy was one of the most overworked people on the job. Glancing down at the clipboard you winced. Ourani really wasn’t kidding when he said Marvus had a full schedule, looks like you could kiss any other plans you had today goodbye. Straightening out your clothes you went to go find Marvus- wherever he could have gotten. Most likely he wouldn’t be trying to hide from you. He’d be expecting Ourani to be the one trying to hunt him down.

You’d been wandering for five minutes when you finally found him. He was actually where he was supposed to be- chatting with his bandmates who immediately perked up to see you.

“Oh shit! Look who it is.”

“Hey guys, mind if I steal Marvus away for a second?” You asked cheerfully. His bandmates had a soft spot for you and it was easy to get them to agree. Their soft spot would make this bet a little easier to win, hopefully.

“Whatchu need babes?” Marvus asked once the two of you had gotten far enough away. You smiled up at him warmly. "Well, first off-," You grabbed the sides of his purple jacket to pull him down closer to your height, "I'd like a kiss." "Shit babe, all you had ta do was ask." He grinned leaning into you. His arm carefully wrapped around your waist as he tilted your chin up to get better access. You huffed a small laugh as he gave your lip a small nip before kissing you. Letting your eyes close for a brief moment to fully enjoy the kiss you cupped his jaw with your hands before regretfully having to pull back- Marvus attempting to follow you. "Secondly," You murmured interrupted by another brief kiss, "You have a meeting in two minutes." "What." You grinned at his flat off guard tone. Not being able to help yourself as you giggled. "I have your entire schedule for the day." "No."

"Mm, yes."

"Babe-,"

"You also have a meeting with Revell to talk about those courses you flunked out of."

"How-,"

"Ourani went home for the day, I'm gonna be your PA so he can actually get some sleep."

"Oh?"

"Don't get any ideas." You interrupted already knowing where his mind was going, "I'm going to make sure you get through your entire schedule whether you like it or not."

"C'mon, just give me an hour." "I might consider it-," He grinned, "After we get through your schedule."

Marvus pouted.

“Work Marvus. Focus on work.”

“Aww, but you be lookin’ so cute when you take charge.”

“And you’ll be a lot more appealing when you actually do your job.”

“Damn.” He muttered under his breath already standing back up to his full height. “Alright baby, guess we cans go to this meeting.”

It looked, at least for the moment, you might actually win this bet.

Then again, you had yet to get him to go to his meeting with Revell. For some reason those two couldn’t stand each other- you’d zoned out briefly during one of his rants only catching something vague about their ancestors that only confused you more. Revell was actually a kind troll though his threshold for what he dubbed ‘highblood nonsense’ was practically nonexistent. He seemed rather fascinated by human culture, often asking you questions on things he didn’t quite understand- some of his questions not even you could answer with any degree of accuracy. But, Marvus and him were known for their fights. Not even in the pitch leaning way either. You had yet to witness their fights but Ourani had talked about them looking pale and shaky- considering the fact that he’d been witness to the usual Alternian concert slaughter fests that happened with Marvus you had to admit you were afraid to see what could shake him like that. If Marvus' PR team was surprised to see him actually at the meeting they didn't say, though they seemed happy to see you with him. Taking your seat next to Marvus you glanced down at the schedule again. He had this meeting, his meeting with Revel, an autograph signing, and then a meeting with a lesser known human band you hadn't even heard of. Knowing Marvus all of these would be a few hours each.

“You bein’ awfully quiet over there.” Marvus murmured to you while his PR team bickered. You glanced up from the clipboard you’d been staring a hole through to give him a flat look. Better to not put him on edge.

“Just trying to figure out how to get you from point A to point B.”

“C’mon baby I ain’t that bad.”

“Ourani would beg to differ.”

“Then he can fuckin’ beg.”

You smacked his arm earning a small chuckle as he turned back to the meeting.

This was going to be a very long day.

[0097linersb]

Pink Lemonade

CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Jaemin x Renjun x Haechan x Jeno x Mark x Reader

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Humor (I guess), Slow burn af

Summary: The dreamies decide to spend some weeks at an Inn in the middle of the nature to relax and enjoy some outdoor adventures, far away from their crazy idol life. What they didn’t expect was the nice girl running said Inn.

Word count: 3k

You should read the intro first so this story makes sense <3

☼  previous / next  ☼

A/N: Honestly guys this fic will probably be long and detaild af ‘cause I’m using it as a distraction from real life lol guess who just finished their engagement. If u would like it to be more straightforward and go right to the fun parts let me know, I’d really like some opinions! Also, it’s like 2 AM so I’ll proofread it tomorrow 

As you woke up the next day, you were not shocked to find that the boys were not up yet. Last night you were surprised to come downstairs to an already fully cleaned kitchen and as much as it made you embarrassed, it also made you immensely grateful. You thanked them and told them to stop being so nice and doing your job for you, to which Mark only responded that seven guys could be really messy sometimes.

You had given them the folders that informed all the activities the Inn (well, you) offered and the ones they could book in the city a few minutes away, it made you smile at how excited they got reading the paper and planning their days. Haechan was already asking if they could go stargazing that same night but the rest of them groaned saying they were way too tired to move after the long trip (and you felt bad once again for having them clean the kitchen).

Everyone eventually agreed on a time for breakfast and you were just sure they wouldn’t wake up that early by the dark circles under their eyes and, turns out you were right. They did go to sleep pretty early the other night, showering after the meal you had and just going straight to bed.

You lazily stretched as you left your room with Koda and Kenai tracing after you, to find a very much awake Jaemin sitting on the living room’s couch holding a cup.

“Good morning, did you make coffee?” You yawned at the boy, scolding Koda so he would get off the couch.

“Good morning. Yeah, sorry for taking the liberty, I really needed to wake up,” He smiled at you, petting your disobedient dog with his free hand so he could get distracted from the way your shirt had ridden up. Damn morning horniness.

“It’s ok, smells good. Are the rest of the boys awake?”

“Nop, and probably won’t be for a while. I know we agreed on going to the lake at 8 but everyone’s dead, I can wake them up if-“

“No, it’s ok,” You laughed. “I imagined this would happen, not a fan of waking up early myself.”

“Oh, you can go back to sleep if you want, I can knock when everyone starts waking up.”

“Don’t worry. You just really made me want some coffee.”

“I left it downstairs, I can go get you a cup.”

“Jaemin, we’re playing opposites here, don’t make me feel useless,” You joked, already making your way to the stairs, missing how the man stared at your legs in your little pajama shorts. “Plus, I need to take the boys on a walk before they become too fidgety.”

“Can I come with?”

“Of course.”

Jaemin was quick to stand up and follow you downstairs, where you quickly poured yourself a cup of coffee and opened the door, the dogs running past you excitedly. You silently lead the way out of your property and into the unpaved road, warming your hands with the coffee mug – The days were hot but the nights and early mornings could be quite chilly, especially with all the trees surrounding you and blocking the sunshine from reaching you.

“Do they sleep with you?” Jaemin asked, pointing at the dogs who were sniffing around the bushes on the side of the road, like they didn’t do this same route every day.

“Sometimes, they often prefer to stay outside, lots of animals to chase when I’m not there to scream at them.”

“They don’t wear leashes?”

“No need to, there’s barely people here and they are really well-behaved. I trained them well, Koda just gets a little bold when we have new guests over,” You smiled, remembering not even 5 minutes ago said dog was trying to get on Jaemin’s lap on the couch. “Do you like tangerines?”

The boy looked at you confused but nodded.

“Wait a second,” You asked before leaving him, walking off the road and into the trees. After a minute or so, you were back, throwing one of the orange fruits at Jaemin. “I steal them from the neighbors sometimes.”

“Will we get in trouble?” He asked but was already peeling the tangerine with his hands.

“Nah, they are never here. These would just rot.”

“Seems only fair then.”

You walked for another few minutes in silence, eating happily as you appreciated the sound of your feet crushing the small rocks on the floor.

“Ok, tangerines do not go well with coffee,” You make a face after eating half of your fruit, only now stopping to pay attention to the actual taste in your mouth.

Jaemin laughs at you before putting his last slice into his mouth, “Cute.”

“There’s nothing cute about this flavor.”

“Didn’t bother me,” He shrugged, smiling down at you.

Damn that boy was too attractive for his own good. You meant, all of them were.

It was just unfair, really.

The two of you talked a bit more until you hit the end of the road and then made your way back, it was a light-hearted comfortable conversation and you liked the way it made you feel warm inside. You learnt that Jaemin likes to photograph stuff and you asked him to take lots of pictures during their stay so you could use them on the Inn’s social media, telling him you shared that hobby with him. You then started a discussion about digital vs. film photography, in which you two clearly didn’t agree on, but it kept you entertained for a long time.

“Listen, technology evolved to this point to make life comfortable and easier for a reason!” Jaemin whined as you two were entering your property once again. “Is there something worse than developing your pictures only to find out your film was ruined?”

“That’s the thrill of it!” You exasperated.

“I call that heartbreak.”

“It’s a raw form of art for the strong hearted,” You sigh dramatically, opening the door for the man.

After your half an hour walk, as you got back home, only Renjun was up, pouring himself some coffee and looking super sleepy.

“Good morning, slept well?” You asked as Jaemin made his way to sit down on the table after getting Renjun to pour him some more coffee.

“Yeah, this is the first time I dreamt in months,” He smiled at you but his eyes were still half closed. Like you, Renjun was still in his pajamas, light sweatpants and a wrinkled white t-shirt.

“Do you guys want to eat something before breakfast?” You asked, not knowing how long they would have to wait for the others.

“It’s ok,” Jaemin answered.

“If you change your mind just let me know,” You smiled, wondering on what to do now, since you had already prepared the food for today last night and didn’t have any other chores until everyone was up so you could make their beds.

You figured the boys would drink their coffees and go talk or lay down in the hammocks, maybe even try to nap a bit but you were proven wrong when Renjun pointed at the end of the table suddenly excited, “Are those cards?”

“Yeah.”

“Can we play?”

“Of course.”

The man was quick to pick up the little box and sit down across the table from Jaemin, who tapped the place next to him before you had the chance to leave. You happily took on the offer, content with finally spending some fun time with people your age. No, scratch that: Attractive men your age.

“Let’s play Rummy!” Renjun suggested, the sleepiness leaving his body at the simple thought.

“I have no idea how to play that,” You informed.

“It’s ok, I’ll teach you. Come closer,” Jaemin smiled at you and you obeyed, heart beating fast at your thighs suddenly touching. What were you? 12?

The game was way too complicated for your morning brain to understand so you basically just watched the boys play, giving your input here and there.

“Jaemin, here!” You excitedly pointed at one of the cards he was holding.

“Oh, I had missed that, smart girl,” He smiled at you, patting your thigh as a thank you or maybe a praise, making your heart almost leave your body through your mouth. 

Freaking pet names dude.

After an hour or so playing, Jeno and Haechan appeared already fully clothed and awake. The second boy gave you and Jaemin a weird look, noticing how the boy’s right hand was just casually resting on your thigh. At some point it just happened and it felt comfortable (if you ignored your blood pumping through your body twice the normal speed, of course), it had been months since you had flirted with someone and you were enjoying the touch fully, thoughts of being professional nowhere to be found.

You greeted the boys and they sat down too, informing Mark and Chenle would be down in a second and Jisung would just skip breakfast to sleep. You decided then to get up and leave them to chat as you went into the pantry to organize the food you had prepared yesterday, into the baskets.

“Dude,” Haechan whispered to Jaemin.

Just by looking at the boy, Jaemin already knew what he wanted to comment on so he just, “Don’t.”

“Game on, bro.”

“What? This is not a game, we were just-“

“I said game on, bro.”

Jaemin sighed and gave up, knowing Haechan was just joking and being annoying as usual.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After all the men (minus Jisung) were downstairs and ready to go, you guided them down to the lake, setting up one of those cliché plaid towels for everyone to sit on. As you and Mark organized the foods around, you smiled at the others running around the grass and taking pictures, impressed at the view. The lake really was pretty and your property had a privileged clearing to sit down and enjoy it.  

“I would love to say they are normally not this energetic,” Mark smiled at you, placing the bowl with the grapes and strawberries down. “But I’d be lying.”

“It’s refreshing, I rarely deal with people my age around here. We didn’t add bingo to the activities’ folder for no reason.”

“There are no clubs or bars around here?”

“The biggest city around has barely 2.000 habitants so I’ll say no to that. Although this region is becoming really famous for the ecotourism these days, they opened a nice pub for the tourists like last month but there’s only ever people during the weekends.”

“Well, if you ever go to Seoul, let me take you out,” Mark offered before realizing what he had said and stiffening, cheeks going red like the watermelon juice in your hands. “I mean, like, to show you the places and-“

“That sounds fun,” You smiled at him, deciding to end his misery right from the start. He was cute. “Boys, the food is ready.”

Jeno excitedly dropped Haechan down (who he was holding for a picture) and ran over, leaving a very whiny boy on the floor. Jaemin took a picture of that and soon enough, everyone was sitting down on the picnic clot.

“Wow, it looks like we’re in a movie,” Renjun awed, looking around.

It really did, that’s why you liked bringing the guests to this spot on their first day. After everything was set, the scenery resembled a Renaissance painting and you loved it. It was a bit hotter than normally since it was a few hours later then the time the guests usually have breakfast, but the gentle breeze of the wind was enough to not make it unbearable.  

The meal was fun, the boys made you feel so comfortable that it felt like you have known each other for a longer time than the actual truth. You all chatted, joked around and posed for pictures with the food. You had brought your analog camera just to tease Jaemin, asking him to take a picture with it for you.

“How do you want it?” The boy groaned, pretending to be annoyed.

“Here, I have an idea,” Haechan shared, excitedly, holding up one of the strawberries from the bowl in front of your face. “Bite it on the side.”

You accepted the advice confused, not understanding where he was trying to go with it but excited, you loved a good old-fashioned improvised picture. Jaemin pointed the camera at you and counted to three, and you smiled around the strawberry when on the count of one, Haechan bit on the other side of the strawberry and looked at you cross-eyed. After you saw the flash of the camera going off, you decided to take a big bite of the strawberry to play around with Haechan but apparently the boy had the same idea and your lips ended up touching, slightly. Since when has your life become a cliché teenage movie? 

You quickly took the stem of the fruit from between your mouths, pulling away from the boy to tease him, “Damn. Didn’t even buy me dinner first.”

The others joined in on teasing Haechan but the man simply winked at you, “Would be my pleasure.”

You didn’t even have time to giggle before the other men pretended to puke and Renjun legit slapped Haechan.

                                       _____________________________________________

The boys decided to not do any activities that day because Jisung would simply not wake up and after a while waiting, Chenle decided to join him on the hibernation. It made you feel sad for them, that their days were so busy and tiring that at the first sight of some time off, they would sleep for hours and hours to make up for it.

The rest of you decided to play some volleyball in the parking lot (which  was not the best idea considering it was noon). As expected by the almost 40 degrees climate, one by one, every single boy started taking off their shirts, body dripping and glistening with sweat and you just felt in heaven. This could just not be real, you even looked around for cameras, scenes like that just didn’t happen in real life. One hot shirtless guy was the acceptable quota for normality.

But also, you didn’t miss the way they looked at you in your little shorts and top (equal rights after all). It made you feel powerful even though you knew it was just their hormones talking, yours were screaming too after all. If it was already like that on their second day here, you couldn’t imagine how you would survive for the next few weeks, you just wanted to cry every time Jeno (who was on your team) approached you to celebrate when either of you scored, high-fiving you with his huge arms (you would die a happy woman if you were choked by them).

After the game was over, the boys decided to go swim on the lake to cool off and you figured it would be a good time to shower and organize their beds, which you quickly did before starting to make some lunch for everyone. The youngest ones of the group didn’t even wake up to eat so you decided to leave them some food in the microwave in case they got hungry in the afternoon.

Unfortunately the Wi-Fi was being annoying as usual and refused to work, so you couldn’t even google about the boys yet, the curiosity was almost killing you. Maybe it was better like that, right now you were just seeing them as 7 young men living their normal lives and you liked it, it kept you from being nervous at the fact they were probably some big stars that had the world at their feet – They all just seemed so chill sprawled around the living room floor playing the bingo you had joked about earlier, it was hard to believe they probably had hoards of screaming girls around them daily.

They thanked you for cleaning their rooms and told you that you didn’t have to, which technically you did, considering it was literally your job and the whole reason you were there.

You could be wrong, considering you have known them for barely 2 days, but you quickly noticed some little things about them: Like how Jaemin liked to touch you, even if it was just a light brush of his hand on your arm (in his defense, he was touchy with everyone, but when he touched you, it just lingered for a bit longer), or how Haechan liked to playfully flirt with you, that boy just had no shame and you admired him for that. You saw how Renjun often stared at you but when you looked at him, he looked away (which could mean either he was shy or he just didn’t like you very much), but at least he was more subtle about it, as opposite to Mark, who became a blushing mess every time you caught his eyes (and you just wanted to squeeze him). You realized Jeno was a manlier guy, you hadn’t gotten what his deal was yet but you loved the way his eyes disappeared when he smiled and that was enough for you.

It was funny, really, how everyone decided to ignore the tension in the air and go on with the day normally – You did only meet the day before after all.

After getting bored with bingo, the boys told you they planned on going water skiing tomorrow and you agreed happily, telling them you could have a little barbecue party in the camping next to the docks where your parents kept the Inn’s water sports gears, which got them even more excited.

“Can we go camping too?” Jeno asked, receiving a groan from Haechan. Classic city boy.

“Like at night?” You asked and Jeno nodded. “Yeah, actually the stars here are crazy pretty since there’s no light pollution.”

“See?” The boy told Haechan excitedly, who only sighed, accepting his fate.

Barbecue, bonfire, alcohol and a beautiful sky: You were a city girl too but you were also a sucker for a good camping night.

taglist: @eggbutnotyolk @lauraneuuh @geeisaclown @jenotation @riemm @junguwuuu @prettychaeng @satanssugaraddiction @luvlyjaemin @sweetjaemss @oofimdumb @junglekooks @unknown5tar @rosedchae@

[officerjennie]

JEN. SOMFTE TUMMIES. KISSES. PILLOW FOR HEAD. gib plz.

the softness after

CW: Soft tummies, weight gain, aftercare, they just had sex so sexual themes, rated M, soft tummy kneading, scar caresses, leg injury mentioned.

Summary: Eskel cleans the both of them up after sex, and Lambert becomes a little overwhelmed by the gentleness of it all.

WC: 1.1k+

Taglist: pending (send me an ask if you want on it!)

Kuri I'm sorry, I have no idea who Lambert is but I Tried xD

The after sex haze had taken him completely, Lambert’s vision glazed over. His body and muscles pleasantly used and humming from the exertion in a way almost akin to a good training session. But he hadn’t been training for a while, his leg still healing from the damn wyvern that had managed to find a cave near the keep, so it was with an extra contented sigh that he sunk back into the pillows.

He heard Eskel chuckle but ignored him, nose wrinkling and nothing else to show he’d even heard the laughter. The bed did shift, no longer dipping under Eskel’s weight as he got up, padding away to the other side of the room where a bowl of water sat for just this sort of situation.

Lambert let him think about the cleanup. Really, he didn’t care if he had cum on his thighs and stomach for the rest of the night. Might make for a bit of an icky cleaning in the morning but even that sounded better than moving right now. Which is why he let out a huffy growl when Eskel came back and started poking at him to let him clean him.

“Not moving,” he grunted, but Eskel didn’t listen and moved him anyway. Rolled him over onto his side and Lambert just flopped over, eyes no longer shut tight, his face flushed still from the workout and his eyes glaring burning holes into Eskel’s pillow.

Eskel’s hands were gentle while they cleaned him up. Always gentle, in that way Lambert used to think he didn’t deserve. There was always room for argument there but he’d stopped trying to fight it years ago, finally letting Eskel do as he pleased, even if ‘what he pleased’ meant running those calloused, rough hands and fingers over him so softly one might believe Eskel thought him precious.

At least he never said it. Lambert would have to break out his teeth if he did. The touching, however, he’d...gotten used to it.

Eskel’s hands soothed over his leg once the majority of the cum was washed off of his hole and arse, the mess that had been spilled onto the back of his thighs also taken care of. He nudged Lambert back onto his back and Lambert growled at being made to move again, letting his lip twitch up into a silent snarl even as his eyes hazed over again.

In the firelight, Eskel’s face was gorgeous. Arguably he was always unfairly attractive, sexy in that ruggish way that tempted Lambert to sink his teeth into the meat of his shoulder when they were out and about doing chores during the winter. Not that he ever did. The cold was enough of a deterrent for him to not even once consider sex outside in the middle of it, snow making him shudder just from sight alone. Last thing he needed was for Eskel to get ideas because the man had a nasty habit of being irresistible.

Like he was doing right now. Face half cast in shadow, the scarred side alight from the flames, a gentle but possessive look in his golden eyes as he cleaned up the mess Lambert had made on his own thighs and stomach. There wasn’t much hair there so it was certainly easier to clean than off of Eskel, which was something at least.

Despite how irritating it was to be forced to move so much, the warmed cloth against his skin was soothing. Lambert melted under the touch, eyes sliding shut again as Eskel hummed. It wasn’t a song or tune, not really, just something he did when he was relaxed enough. Almost like the way Aiden purred when he got to curl up in front of a fire.

After his injury, Lambert hadn’t been able to do much of anything around the keep. Mostly he attempted to not burn the stew over the fire, baked bread for the lot of them (which everyone said was better than Vesemir’s but Lambert had just shrugged, not really sure he agreed). Keeping them all fed had become his one and only duty, and though he thought it would be boring at first it really hadn’t turned out to be all that bad.

Taste testing everything he made and making it taste good to his own standards had been nice, and it had led to eating even more of the breads and stews than he usually would. That along with not much exercise had led to his stomach ending up a bit plusher than it normally was, even for winter. All of them put on a good bit of weight when the fighting was less, the food was plentiful, and the road was behind them and replaced with a warm bed every night.

Eskel tossed the wash rag to the side, but his hand didn’t stop running over Lambert’s skin. It was on the plush fat of his stomach, warm and heavy against him, the bed dipped down under Eskel’s own weight as he leaned over Lambert to press a featherlight kiss to his forehead.

It was almost too much, in that way that made Lambert want to squirm. He scowled at the kiss and was grateful when Eskel left it at that, able to relax at just the gentle kneading of his stomach. Fingers digging in at just the right spots, hand cupping the soft skin, massaging his stomach in a way Lambert really hadn’t known he’d love so much.

Scars littered his skin. Jagged ones that were from the worst of his injuries. Smoothe ones that had barely hurt when whatever monster or human had gotten ahold of him. Eskel’s fingers found them and his touch lightened to a caress, Lambert’s heartbeat picking up, his face flushing further as he tried to ignore the way it made his chest feel so light.

Eskel moved down the bed, settling in so his head was pillowed on Lambert’s stomach. His lips ran aimlessly against it as his hand continued to caress and knead him, the older wolf settling in as if it was the most natural thing in the world to give such tender affection to a creature that had been rebuilt to kill.

After a time, it was too much. Lambert’s breath caught in his throat, his chest almost too light, the gentle touch and the way his heart ached over it overwhelming. But instead of pushing Eskel away he just reached out to him, fingers finding his hair and running through it until he had a gentle, grounding grip that made the world stop spinning around them.

Eskel hummed again, pressing a firm kiss to Lambert’s soft stomach. “You’re alright, pup. I’ve got you.”

And Lambert believed him.

[obiwanobi]

I was asked to write angst with a happy ending for the Sith Senator Kenobi AU where Obi-Wan believes Anakin has been killed during a mission, so here’s 2.6k of sadness featuring Obi-Wan and Ahsoka before I finish the happy ending part: 

Ahsoka can only remember a few details from the funeral of her master.

In her mind, the memory has the fuzziness of an unpleasant dream, and not the sharpness of an event that happened only yesterday. 

Surprisingly, it was Master Windu who led the ceremony with a gentle voice.  Master Yoda gave a speech, but she can't recall a word of it.  She remembers Senator Amidala trying to blink away her tears.  She remembers Master Jinn's heavy hand on her shoulder when the heat of the flames started to warm her face. She remembers Rex, still as a statue from beginning to end. She remembers Senator Kenobi being the first to leave without a word. 

It took four hours for the pyre to burn to ashes. 

___________________________________

"Oh. Hello, young one." 

Senator Kenobi's tone is surprised, but his face is as impassive as ever.

It reminds her of that one time her master said that he would have made an excellent Jedi, and Kenobi immediately proved him wrong, dramatically grimacing at the thought and making Anakin burst into laughter. 

There's no grimace on Kenobi's face right now. His hair and beard are perfectly combed and trimmed, and there isn't one wrinkle on his pristine clothes.  

It makes the deep shadows under his eyes stand out even more. 

"Senator," Ahsoka greets him with a polite bow. "Would you mind if I come in?" 

Kenobi blinks twice before taking a step back. "Please."

She walks into his apartment a bit rigidly, hands clutched around the box she brought, and seats on the couch he points at her. 

If he knew she was here, Master Jinn would disapprove. Her grandmaster has never liked the senator, partially due to his charming public persona which only echoes in a bizarre void in the Force —"some plants are easier to detect that him", she once heard Master Jinn say,— and partially because of his close relationship with her master. 

Ahsoka herself has never known what to make of Senator Kenobi.

Stuck between pretending to ignore the looks he used to share with her master and making sarcastic remarks about it to fluster them both, it now leaves her in an awkward relationship she can't define without mourning for the missing link between them.

Anxiety starts nagging at her as she looks at the box in her hands. Maybe she should have waited. Maybe this was a bad idea. 

"Caf? Tea?" Kenobi asks from the kitchen. 

"Whatever you're having is fine, thanks." 

She hears the cabinet doors opening and closing, water boiling for a few seconds, and then the senator comes back with a teapot and cups on a tray. "I hope you like black tea, then. I never drink caf." 

Ahsoka isn't sure if she's more surprised by a senator not having any personal employee to assist him, or the fact that she can clearly see what looks like a very expansive caf machine on the kitchen counter. 

"How did you know where to find me?" 

"I commed your office first," she admits, refocusing her attention on him. "Your assistant said you were working from home lately, and gave me your address."

Kenobi raises his eyebrows. "She did? Well, that's a surprise. She usually bites people who try to see me without an appointment or a life-or-death crisis. Preferably one with multiple dead people already." 

"Hum, yes, she— She almost brushed me off, but then I told her that I needed to give you something. From my master." 

To his credit, Kenobi, teapot in hand, freezes for only half a second. Then, pointedly not looking at her, starts pouring tea again. 

On the comm, Kenobi's assistant also paused when Ahsoka told her that, before grumbling 'it can't make it worse anyway' and then giving strict instructions about when was the best time to come see him. 

"I see."

She puts the box next to her steaming cup, and stops her hand just before opening it. "There were some... important chips and datapads from previous and ongoing missions that he had in his room, and I was the one who looked for it. So I cleaned a few drawers."

Letting someone else disturbs Anakin's bedroom has felt wrong. Even if she knows that it was only selfishness that pushed her to volunteer to look through his room, she's still glad she did.

No one needs to know how long she spent seating in the middle of Anakin's bedroom, trying to wrap his lingering Force signature around her. Or that it took three hours before she could touch anything in it without feeling like she was breaking one last invisible connection to her master. 

"And I found this box." she taps on it lightly. "This is... I think— I think you should have it." 

"What’s in the box, Padawan Tano?" Kenobi asks behind his cup. 

The proof of my master's complete disregard for the Jedi Code, she wants to say. Ahsoka bites her lip.

It doesn't matter.

It doesn't matter anymore. 

"Mostly datachips with holos on it, a few old tickets for a race, a password-protected datapad and some personal belongings."

"And what that has to do with me?" 

Ahsoka frowns. 

Kenobi doesn't sound like the conversation interests him. His hand moves, and for a second Ahsoka thinks he's going for the box, but instead, he takes the recipient filled with honey and put a small spoon of it in his cup before leaning back on the couch. 

His indifferent expression is starting to grate on her nerves. 

"I took a look at the holos. My master is on it, but you're also there. With him sometimes. Most of them are holoimages, but there are a few longer recordings with sound." Ahsoka has only watched one, but it's still hard to reconcile the man fondly rolling his eyes and telling Anakin behind the holocamera to please, dear, don't waste it on me, with the impassive man with the blank stare in front of her. "I didn't watch all of them, but I think it's safe to say that he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to find them."

"I see," Kenobi says distractingly, stirring his tea. 

Ahsoka's hand is starting to turn into a fist in her lap.

"Do you? Do you really? Do you know about the Jedi Code, Senator Kenobi?" She asks, suddenly opening the box herself and getting one of the datachips and a small holoprojector out.  

"I know enough." 

"Because this," she continues, pushing the chip in it and opening the first holos, "this isn't really approved by the Code. Do you know what the Code recommends, regarding attachment, Senator? To material things? To people?"

Did you love him? she wants to ask, as a holo of Anakin, dressed in light civilian clothes, smiles and makes a rapid 'come one' hand gesture to the person behind the camera. Did you love him as much as he did?  

She presses the next button rapidly, going through a few holos of sunbathed landscapes and olive trees, and then Anakin is holding a glass of wine in one, tasting it in a second, and making a ridiculous face in the third. There's a lot of Kenobi after that, also dressed in lighter clothes than usual, with shades on. Him trying to read a sign in a foreign language but clearly failing, him looking at some old and decrepit ruins in wonder, him with a face covered in sunscreen, sending an unamused look above his glasses at the camera.

Ahsoka's irritation makes her forget to be embarrassed when she goes through some of the holos where they're pressed against each other in such an intimate way that it feels like she's holding their honeymoon holoalbum, but it doesn't stop her from wanting to cry when she catches the tenderness in Anakin's eyes in every holo where he's looking at Kenobi.

It's only when she reaches the one taken at a weird angle where Anakin is lying in the shades of a tree, asleep, his face nuzzled against a red beard, that a hand stops her before she can keep pressing next.

She turns her head toward Kenobi, ready to push him again to get a reaction, but he’s not looking at her. His gaze is fixed on the holo and his face is making a bizarre expression she doesn't recognise. Then, he says, softly, "I told him not to keep any of it."

And then she gasps for air. 

The Force... the Force feels like a void.

Not a blank space, or the faint static she's used to next to Kenobi, but a true void. She chokes a bit on the emptiness of it all, almost sick to her stomach by the vertigo effect. It feels like she's standing near the edge of a hungry precipice, just like what she felt when Master Jinn told her that her master was dead, after she's stopped saying that it wasn't possible and he was wrong wrong wrong. She felt like falling then, endlessly falling and never hitting the ground, and she feels like falling now. Headfirst into the void. A long, endless fall through nothingness.

The void feels like it could swallow her whole and leaves nothing behind. No memory or emotion or connection. 

The void is lonely, and aching, and lonely.

And lonely.

And lonely. 

Then the sound of shattered porcelain resonates in a disturbing echo in her ears and everything stops. 

Ahsoka gasps again —did she stop breathing at one point?— and pants heavily, hands shaking on her thighs.

She violently throws herself against the couch, as if the void is still here at her feet, ready to devour her.  

"That's quite enough of that for now."

Disoriented, it takes a moment before she remembers where she is. Kenobi has already turned off the holoprojector and put it back in the box when she feels capable of forming coherent sentences again. A cup of tea is pushed under her nose, and she automatically takes it. It burns her tongue a bit. She's so glad to feel something so simple and physical that she keeps drinking it anyway. 

Kenobi is standing up now, napkins in hand but not moving. He's looking down at something, stuck still in an aborted move, and Ahsoka realises that there is an ugly stain on his tunic, right on his chest, and that fragments of porcelain are lying all over the floor around him.

She didn't see how Kenobi broke the teapot, but it must have been quite a fall to scatter all these hundreds of tiny little pieces around him. On the white rug at his feet, a large brown stain is expanding slowly but surely through the intricate design of the textile. 

He couldn't have made a bigger mess on purpose. 

"You shouldn't stay here," he tells her, but his eyes stay locked on the liquid still dripping from the edge of the table. "You could hurt yourself." 

"I— yes. Sorry." 

She doesn't know what she's apologising for. She's tense, unsettled, and doesn't dare reach through the Force to find any kind of balance. She doesn't understand what the kriff just happened, but she's not in the mood to look for answers right now.

She just wants to be home. She just wants her master. She just wants to sleep.  

Box under her arm, she takes a breath and stands up, careful not to walk on any fragments of broken porcelain.

"I should go anyway."

"Would you mind letting me see one last thing before you leave?" 

She blinks, surprised. "From... the box?" 

"Yes." 

She hesitates a second, still not sure if this was a mistake or not. But who else could she share it with?  

Kenobi seems like he's giving up on cleaning for now, and dries his hands with a napkin as he watches her put the box on the counter. He takes a moment to look inside this time, before grabbing the datapad and turning it on.

"It's password-protected," she says, just to break the tense silence. "I've tried a few things to bypass it but nothing works." 

"Why do you think it's about me, then?" 

"If you try enough wrong words, a message will pop up to give you a hint." Kenobi sends her a questioning look, but she just shrugs. "Try something. Anything."

"Oh," he says, voice suddenly soft, after putting Anakin's name and surname. "It says it's for my birthday." 

"Yep." 

"'Something that could make a politician cry'?", he reads out loud, intrigued. "What is he talking about? I told him enough times that politicians don't have souls, or—"

His mouth opens in a silent 'oh'. He turns to look at her pensively, and right when she's about to ask him if he's thinking of something, starts tapping on the keyboard. 

The pad beeps happily. 

"Of course," he whispers. "Of course." 

Ahsoka can see his fingers swiping on the pad a few times but she's not at the right angle to see what he's actually looking at.

It would have bothered earlier. Now, her head feels heavy and her mind clouded, and she just wants to go home. The only reason she's not leaving right now is the glint of something in Kenobi's eyes. 

Maybe it's just the reflection of the blue light on the screen. Maybe he's trying not to laugh in front of her at whatever her master had planned for his birthday. 

Maybe he's trying not to cry. 

He turns off the datapad suddenly, straightening up and offering a polite smile that doesn't reach his eyes. The glint is gone. 

"If this is alright with you, Padawan Tano, I would like to keep that box." 

You don’t deserve it, a voice in her mind says. 

But she knows that the box isn't for her. She's a Jedi, and these are just material possessions. Holoimages and a few useless trinkets.

Her master isn't in that box. Her master is in the Force, with her, always. 

She's not certain she should trust Kenobi, but her master did. So she chooses to believe. 

"Okay," she murmurs. "Just... just keep it safe." 

"I will." 

There is no way to know if he means it, but she's definitely not in the mood to reach through the Force and check right now.

"I should go." She turns towards the door, ready to go home and sleep for fourteen hours.  

"Ahsoka."

The surprise of hearing her name in his mouth for the first time stops her hand on the door handle. She's so tired that she barely turns her head sideways, waiting for whatever insipid parting words he will offer her.  

"Anakin was very proud of you. He couldn't stop talking about how great you were going to be as a knight."

Her heart misses a beat. Or three. 

Don't say his name, she wants to say, we managed to ignore it the entire time, why did you have to say his name? But her throat only seems to be able to produce an uncontrollable choked up sound. She can't blink fast enough to see through her tears.

After so long looking for a hint of human feelings in Kenobi, she almost wishes his voice wasn't so gentle right now.

"Please make sure to do all you can to make it true."

She only allows herself to cry once the door slams shut behind her. 

[pillow-anime-talk]

wap challenge.

synopsis: ‘WAP challenge’ versus our lovely boys.

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; aged up; romance; mild comedy and fluff; suggestive?

includes: female reader ft. hitoshi shinsou & you shindou {bnha} + eita semi & tobio kageyama {hq!!} + seijuurou mikoshiba & rin matsuoka {free!}

— HITOSHI

↘ It was absolutely NOT YOUR idea to do this challenge. Mina was the initiator of it all, because she’s addicted to the TikTok app, plus she knows every trend that is currently taking place. Plus, she’s your bestie, so it’s super obvious that you’ll do a lot of (stupid) things with her to keep an eye on her silly ass. 

↘ UMMM, anyway. Also not gonna lie, but you liked to dance, so it was much easier to induce you this time, hehe.

↘ Therefore, a few trainings later, you could easily record the ‘WAP challenge’ and put it on the pink-haired teenager’s popular account. 

↘ Meanwhile, your lovely boyfriend was in the coffee bar with Denki. Unexpectedly, the latter got a notification on his phone. 

↘ (Of course, we all know that Kaminari is the second TikTok biggest fan and his content is something like ‘Top10 things I don’t like about Bakugo’.)

↘ Coming back to the topic, the blonde’s eyes automatically widened when he saw the video inserted into Mina’s account; he wasn’t surprised by the young girl’s idea and its general performance, but you... He totally didn’t expect it! After all, you were the complete opposite of a crazy pinky one and you were literally the voice of reason in your friendship.

↘ “Oh, God... Wow. You have to see this, Shinsou.” He laughed under his breath, then restarted the short video and turned the black phone to the boy who currently drinking colored bubble tea.

↘ Well. Needless to say, some cold tea flew out of his mouth and his both cheeks turned redder than Kirishima’s hair.

↘ Aaaand he got an boner.

— YOU

↘ That mf... Okay. 

↘ Listen to me.

↘ Honestly, you were never interested in having an account on this whole TikTok app, but you saw a tons YouTube videos of people dancing to an English-speaking female rapper’s song and you just found it as a fun and interesting activity (+ you really liked this lit song, so...).

↘That’s why, you pushed back the furniture in your own room, which was in the Ketsubutsu Academy dorm, and put on a music. The first three attempts were just learning the steps, but by the fourth time you were ready for the real dance, so you tied your hair in a high ponytail to make it more comfortable and corrected the top of your clothes.

↘ Absorbed in setting up the camera and playing the song at the right moment, you didn’t even notice when your boyfriend entered your room. Of course he wanted to say hi or just kiss your pretty face, but at the same moment you jumped up and lifted your leg, quickly dropping to your knees.

↘ Shindou’s eyes widened while he resting his arm against your bedroom white wall. He even bit his lip, feeling a pleasant tingling in the stomach and throat.

↘ To say that he was delighted is definitely not enough.

↘ And when you finished the dance with the split, your boyfriend was still silent... However there was a sound of clapping and mouth pecking throughout the room. Slightly frightened, you turned towards him, and your cheeks flushed deeply.

↘ “Well, well, well. I didn’t expect that, but... I’d love to see it again, babe.” He winked at you, and you quickly covered your red face with your hands, still sitting on the floor.

— EITA

↘ All of us know perfectly that Semi is... a very serious man. I mean, have you seen how much he gives while he playing volleyball and helping his lovely teammates? Eita takes many things seriously (both at school and in private life) hence his strong character and his frequent lack of playfulness when you both have a small talk.

↘ However, you still love him very much and you would do anything for this big baby boy to make him happy and make him feel loved and appreciated as your boyfriend, friend and also volleyball player.

↘ Anyway, you didn’t expect that one day he would come over to your house and your mother would let him in, saying that ‘as always, you are at your own bedroom, listening to music’.

↘ Eita also didn’t expect anything special that day; he just came to you to spend Saturday watching interesting anime, some movies, talking and possibly ordering a pizza at his treat, but then he opened the door to your room and literally at the same moment he saw that you swing your leg up, and after a while you get down on your both knees.

↘ Of course he was so shocked because, firstly, he didn’t expect you to dance, and secondly, he didn’t expect you to dance this kind of moves...

↘ The poor boy who always took everything around him seriously couldn’t absorb for the next few seconds the fact that some people do a lot of things for fun... not for awards and medals like him and his beloved team.

↘ Fortunately, he quickly shook his head and laughed a bit under his breath when you barely managed to do a splits.

— TOBIO

↘ HAHAHGAHHAHDDAHAHAADDXXHJXJXDD. SORRY. I MEAN...

↘ The poor baby boy has his head high in the clouds and is only interested in the volleyball or matches, the milk in the carton from the school vending machine and you.

↘ Therefore, he’s not into the social media like Twitter, TikTok, Tumblr or YouTube. Sometimes he just steals your Spotify or Netflix account, but that’s all.

↘ Therefore, when one random day Hinata and Yamaguchi ran up to him with orange-head’s phone in his hand and a few seconds later asked if he had already seen the video with you in the lead role, the black-haired young man raised an eyebrow up, not understanding about what his two teammates talked at that moment.

↘ However, when after a short while he saw a dance video with loud music on the app on Shouyou’s phone, a small wrinkle appeared on his forehead and his mouth tightened into a narrow line.

↘ When the video was over, he thanked his besties, then took his own smartphone out of his pants pocket to search for your name in contacts. He quickly wrote you a short message, and as you read it, a huge blush appeared on your both cheeks.

↘ Tobi! | 14:23 ; Why didn’t you tell me that you dance? You’re pretty good at it. I’d like to see it privately. See you after classes :).

— SEIJUUROU

↘ :D

↘ Let’s start with the fact that Seijuurou is definitely a social animal and knows a lot of phone apps (unlike Haikyuu boys, lmao).

↘ I mean, he knows perfectly well all Twitter or Tumblr jokes and general slang, his favorite app is probably Instagram, and the Urban Dictionary is his second home, his bestie. Not need to mention that you share Netflix together, you two also are on the same Discord channel, and on top of that, he makes a shitpost on his own Facebook profile.

↘ No wonder that one day when he caught you dancing to the Cardi B and Megan Thee Stallion song, he immediately joined to you. As if dancing had been in his veins from the day he was born, almost like swimming.

↘ The young man literally took all your viewers off the account and all the beauty of the fame you worked hard while you putting your own content on the channel.

↘ ‘Well... I expected that.’

↘ After a few days, of course, you changed the main theme of your account and instead of creating it by yourself, you shared it with your beloved boyfriend (after all, you couldn’t refuse the fans and the red-head...).

↘ Now you put all kinds of videos and posts together, and the people on TikTok like both of you very much and consider you two to be the sweetest couple in the whole world.

↘ Camila and Shawn are nothing compared to you!

— RIN

↘ I think Rin would know what TikTok is, and also know that you have an account there, but he has never been more interested in it than necessary. 

↘ I mean, it might have existed, but he wouldn’t be interested in getting into the ‘world’ of any influencers and celebrities.

↘ Well. 

↘ The big boy was very busy with swimming and with planning your dates...

↘ So when he listened to music on YouTube one randomly evening and totally accidentally click a complication video with ‘WAP Challenge’ tiktoks, he was surprised that you showed up as one of the dancers.

↘ Your all movements were polished and super strong. You danced really great, better than Rin could ever have imagined. Dressed in black shorts and a gray top, you fit well with the sounds and voice of a female rapper, and as the cherry head knew English, his tongue automatically lick his lower lip.

↘ Hmm, I don’t think I need to add to this headcanon the fact that shortly after watching the short video with you about another 20 times, Rin put on his feet shoes and decided to go to your house.

[akitokihojo]

Stay

Woah, two posts in one day? Yeah... yeeeeeeah. I don't usually post so late, but as I sat here staring at this document, I realized that if I don't post it now, I never will.

Okay, look, this story is extremely personal for me and I want to give a warning about that. If you know me or have been following me for a while, you may have noticed I tend to keep to myself, I'm quiet, and I'm private. But, as most humans, I have things I battle, too. I've been through things, too.

My coping mechanisms are humor and "add to cart." My therapy is writing. I decided to give this a shot. I've gotten personal with older fics before, but it's vague and I sort of lightly mix it in there like food seasonings. "Everything's Okay" and "A Moment" are examples of which. This story is largely based off something real. The emotion behind it is real. Very real.

Now, I will admit, the comfort added isn't. It's something I've realized over the past couple of years that I both crave and deserve. It's something that would help me incredibly, and maybe it's unrealistic, but that doesn't take away from the fact that I want it. So bad. So, I wrote. I made it happen.

I decided to project everything into my comfort otp, so if either Kagome or Inuyasha seem out of character, it's because they are. Sorry about that. It was difficult to keep their characteristics in tact. Particularly, Inuyasha. He's unbelievably soft here.

This is sloppy. I did my best to edit, but like I said, the longer I sat on it, the less likely it was bound to be posted. Just consider it unfiltered emotions if it seems messy, because that's what it's supposed to be.

Some disclaimers that I'll open up about: Yes, all of those negative things have been said to me by a past ex. What Kagome tells Inuyasha is very real for me. Also, replace "abusive father" with "abusive mother" and you've got it. :) I just didn't feel comfortable disrespecting mama higurashi with such slander, so since Kagome's father isn't in the picture, it was simpler.

Okay, I'm done. Thank you. If you read this, thank you. Again.

---

“Come on, Kagome. Show me.” Inuyasha encouraged supportively.

Kagome sighed, adjusting the shorts a bit better around her waist as she stared at herself in the mirror on the inside of the door. She’d comfortably tucked herself away in the walk-in closet of her boyfriend’s bedroom, preferring the space she had and the length of the mirror as opposed to the bathroom that only showed her up to her hips unless she bounced to her tippy toes.

“Houston, we have a problem.” She spoke.

“Define ‘problem.’” Inuyasha proposed. “Because, I realized a long time ago that you and I have two totally different definitions of the word.”

No, this was a definite problem. Unfortunately, it seemed she’d purchased clothing from one of the retailers that didn’t quite grasp that some woman had thicker asses and thighs. The shorts fit, but they hugged her in places she needed a little more room in. God forbid, she sit down. Then, they’d fit her like underwear.

The band was comfortable along her hips, but felt a little better if she pulled it up a smidge toward her waist. But then the underside of her booty cheeks popped out, and that for sure wasn’t something she could sport in public. Or, she could. She just wouldn’t be comfortable doing so. It wasn’t her style. She preferred a hint of more modesty. Not to mention, the shorts were very tight against her lady bits, and that was definitely something she didn’t want her clothing riding up on.

“Babe.”

“Curse these thighs.”

“Oh, see what I mean?” He chimed from the other side of the door. “That’s the exact opposite of a problem.”

“It’s a problem if the shorts don’t fit, Inuyasha.”

“Show me.”

“They don’t fit.”

“Okay, we’ll return them. But, show me first.”

“Why do you want to see them if they don’t fit?” She laughed lightly.

“Why wouldn’t I? Do I have to spell this out to you every time?” Inuyasha asked, making it obvious that he was feigning irritation.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Alright, first of all, I know you’re ridiculously critical of yourself. I have a more objective point of view, and therefore that makes my opinion the only valid one here.”

“Hey -“

“I’m not finished. Second, I love seeing you in tight clothing. That’s a given. You don’t have to keep it, and you should always wear things you’re comfortable in, but at least do the right thing and let me see first. I think I deserve that much. Third, and most importantly, ass and thighs. Your ass and thighs.” Inuyasha made a chef’s kiss motion even though she couldn’t see, losing himself in the thought of some of his favorite assets of hers. “You know damn well how much I love them. So, please - please - come out and show me, Kagome.”

Behind the door, she fought her smile, losing so quickly it was as if she hardly stood a chance against it. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her body, but he was right. There were some imperfections that had her self-conscious at times, and he knew without saying when they started dating over five months ago that her thighs were one of them. And, she could tell the half demon she called hers genuinely adored everything she deemed unworthy.

Giving a minor adjustment to make sure the area between her thighs had enough room to breathe, she sighed out any apprehension and opened the door. Inuyasha sat on the edge of the bed waiting, golden eyes instantly on her. He skimmed over the way she’d tucked her shirt into the underside of her bra to keep it out of the way, gazed at her tummy for a small moment, then drifted his sights down to the shorts hugging her snuggly.

He barely blinked, his expression practically blanking, and Kagome’s cheeks went red hot.

“Inuyasha?”

“Shh. I’m concentrating.”

Kagome laughed, turning away from him bashfully.

“Shit, no! I wasn’t ready for that!” He cried, pressing the heels of his hands into his temples as if he were in a panic. Her ass. It looked phenomenal. He wasn’t mentally prepared to see just how plump it looked in those bottoms, and it sent his mind reeling.

“What!?” She gasped, her hands instinctually falling to cover her butt as she spun back to face the way she’d originally been.

“Oh my god.” Inuyasha mewled. “Are you kidding me, Kagome!? Where’s the problem!? Where’s the mother fucking problem!? Because, I don’t see it!”

It was thought to be impossible, but she felt her face flush even hotter. So hot, she wanted to hide it, knowing full and well her embarrassment was visible and prominent. She kind of tucked her head down slightly, hoping the dim lighting in his room would be her ally and shade her blush while she presented her issues with the garment of clothing.

“Well, it’s tight on my thighs. See, when I do this -“ She explained as she lifted her leg slightly as if she was going to take a step forward. The bottom hem of her shorts tightened against her quad, squeezing around the plush before riding up an inch. “It’s not very comfortable. I like a bit of a looser fit. And, then my butt. It’s suffocating. I’m scared one wrong move will make these shorts rip.”

“God forbid.”

“Inuyasha, seriously.” She deadpanned.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m listening. Anything else?” He apologized with a grin, conceding.

“Yes. I can’t sit in these.”

“Why not?”

“Too tight.”

“So, you literally can’t sit?”

“No, I mean I’m sure I can. It’s just not a good idea.”

“Because, they’ll rip?”

“That. Or, they’ll turn into chonies.”

“What?”

“Underwear.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware you got such versatile clothing. I could have sworn we were nowhere near the lingerie section.”

Kagome laughed through her groan, tossing her head back in minor exasperation due to her boyfriend’s sarcasm. It was going to be hard to describe, and she was sure if she attempted such he’d only throw more jokes her way, so she shut her mouth and decidedly took to demonstrating her vexation. She crossed the floor, hoped for the best, and plopped into a seat right next to Inuyasha. Her thighs fluffed out and her shorts effectively rode all the way up, giving her legs the attention they apparently demanded.

Inuyasha’s eyes were glued to her thighs and the way her clothing wrinkled along her anatomy. He’d had to press his lips into a tight line to prevent their proud and joyful crinkle, but it was so desperately difficult to fend off. Kagome was quick to notice and her brows pinched together, a small pout forming.

“You tricked me.” She murmured. “You wanted me to sit down, didn’t you?”

“I’ll admit, it was a lot easier than I expected it would be.” He said, gently stroking the pads of his fingers over the softness of her legs. “Again, I find it important to remind you that you and I clearly have very different definitions of what a problem is. This… this is not a problem. Not at all.”

“Well, see, I sort of wanted to be able to wear these outside of your apartment.” Kagome giggled, inadvertently melting into his touch. It was so light, it almost tickled, but she felt his warmth radiating from his hand, she felt his attraction, she felt his good-natured and honest feelings toward her body, and it was nothing short of what she both wanted and needed right now.

“I know, I know. We’ll return them and get a larger pair. Still, not a problem.” He grinned, planting his whole palm on her thigh and sliding it inward, shoving it to sit in the heat between. He leaned over and kissed her temple.

“Don’t even think about it.” Kagome hummed, leaning into his tender touch.

“Hm?”

“You’re about to lay down on my thighs, aren’t you?”

“What? I can’t?” The half demon pouted with legitimate shock on his brow.

“The moment you’re down, you’re down. You know damn well you’re not getting up if I let you, and I want to get out of these shorts.”

“But, Kagome -“

“Boy, if you knew exactly how these are constricting certain areas, you’d understand.” She laughed, playfully shoving his hand off of her as she stood. Before walking toward the closet where she’d left her skirt, she turned to face her boyfriend, bending at the waist and pushing his bangs from his forehead to plant a kiss against his skin. “I should get going soon, anyway. It’s getting late.”

“Don’t go, then.” He said, tone gruff as his amber eyes met hers. “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d asked her to stay the night, impromptu. Far from it. Every time, though, caused something in her chest to stir, something in her stomach to flutter, something in her bloodstream to effervesce in both a wonderful and unsettling way - the unsettling part deriding from a different emotion she’d recently noticed planting its roots somewhere inside of her. Inuyasha grabbed her hand, running his thumb over the tops of her fingers while his expression shifted to one of seriousness. No jokes, no funny business, no sarcasm was present any longer.

“I don’t feel like I got all the time I wanted with you. Since we were out and about most of the day, I feel like I had to share parts of you with the world, so now that it’s just you and I, I’m not quite ready to let you go. Will you stay?”

Internally, Kagome was telling herself to keep it together. It was such a small gesture, such a tiny request, but it was always the little things he said to her, like this, the mannerisms he displayed when he was sincere, the way his amber eyes met hers when he waited for her answer that had her feeling unstable. Like, she could cry. Like, she was more afraid than she was thirty seconds ago, or an hour ago, or when she saw his smile earlier this afternoon when they met up, or last night, or when she crashed and burned upon realizing what, exactly, it was she felt for Inuyasha a month ago. She swallowed, forcing herself to show none of that as she made a small smile appear on her face.

“Can I borrow a shirt to sleep in?”

A grin sprouted on Inuyasha’s lips as he kissed the hand he held, standing to cross over to his dresser.

“You want your favorite, or a different one?” He asked, ignoring the twitch his own sensitive ear gave as the wood scraped open.

“Whichever. Can I take a shower?”

“Of course.” He said in a manner that suggested she knew she didn’t have to ask by now. He was well-acquainted with her routine and how she preferred showers before bed as opposed to first thing in the morning. That, and they’d recently gotten her some extra toiletries to store in his bathroom for times she stayed over. He was equipped for her company, and sooner or later, Kagome was bound to learn that she was more than welcome to treat his place as her own. Her scent, her voice, her contagious laughter were all he needed, and if his apartment was filled with it, Inuyasha couldn’t think of anything that would make him happier.

Kagome took the large band tee the hanyou offered with a grateful smile and snagged some boxers from the top drawer he’d just opened with a playful, little scrunch of her nose before ambling over to the closet to pick up her skirt and reach for a towel on the shelf.

Why? Why was her heart thumping uncontrollably? She was so happy. So, so, so content. But, yet a crippling sensation was crawling its way up her esophagus to make home in her throat; to grow large, and dense, and sit there to make it impossible to swallow any longer. Ever since that night a month ago, when she’d hung up the phone after a goodnight call with Inuyasha - who was traveling at the time for work, was beyond tired, spoke to her in that husky tone she was utterly weak for, and who’d called out of mere courtesy to let her know he’d made it to his destination safely - she hadn’t been feeling secure. Not because of him. He hadn’t done anything wrong. In fact, despite their little, bickering spats and his tendency to get a bit jealous over guys she spoke to, he was doing everything right. He wasn’t the one giving her reason to fear. It was her.

It was what she’d been through.

It was something she was so terrified he would turn around and say to her, that it practically debilitated her rational mind.

But, still, the feeling it stemmed from grew and expanded, the tree roots burying themselves in the soil of her heart, and Kagome was positive by now, after thirty days had passed with no decrease but, instead, the exact opposite, that there was no convincing herself that it wasn’t there. Because, every time she saw him smile, every time he held her hand, every time he expressed himself to her, it banged on her walls like an innocent prisoner demanding freedom.

When she was sure her emotions weren’t superficial, when she was positive there was no changing anything on her end, Kagome had to really look within herself to figure out how to maneuver about things. Did she openly tell him? Was there a right time to say these things? She even debated never saying anything at all, and for a good while, she was settled on that option. It wasn’t the right thing to do, though. It was like she was allowing her past, her previous broken heart, to dictate how she expressed affection toward others, and the potential ‘others’ who hadn’t done her wrong didn’t deserve that. Kagome had always been the type to wear her rather large and vulnerable heart on her sleeve. The cage she held it in now, it wasn’t locked. She wanted to put it back where it belonged, but she was so scared, it made her nauseous. The cage door was opened, held cracked from the inside, the weary organ protecting itself behind a barrier that just needed some encouragement to come out from.

Again, she’d wondered to herself countless times: was there a right moment to say something like this? Was there a procedure she needed to follow? She’d said it first last time, and nothing ended in her favor, so maybe she shouldn’t be the one to initiate this topic? Maybe it applied too much pressure? Should she just keep it to herself behind lock and key? Was he going to be receptive? Was it going to scare him away? Please, don’t scare him away. Please, please don’t leave.

And, countless times, she ended up in tears from the crushing weight of it. Kagome knew the truth. She didn’t have to consult anyone to know what the right thing to do was. It didn’t matter how many nights she stared at the ceiling obsessing over right and wrong, this or that, pros and cons, yes and no’s, because in the back of her mind, the answer was right there in big, bold letters. She was just trying to dance around it. It was so stressful. Something that was depicted as a happy and liberating occurrence was reduced to horrifying and anxiety-inducing for her.

The fact of the matter was, no one should have the power to change her heart. More so, Kagome shouldn’t give anyone that power. The way she felt so deeply was, in fact, a good thing. It was. It was. It was a fight just to get herself to understand that again, feeling like she was convincing herself of something she no longer believed, but she knew the only way she would, once more, feel that freedom was to open up. Stop hiding.

The thought was heavy. It didn’t sit comfortably with her. There were certain things Kagome was okay talking about, and there were certain things Kagome would rather eat up, swallow, and take to the grave. But, that was vulnerability, and she understood that if anyone deserved that part of you, it was your partner. Inuyasha was her partner. He was patient. He listened to her about things that made her uneasy, he took into account how she could be both a social butterfly sometimes and introverted during others, how when she was overwhelmed she had a tendency to shut down, how physical touch was her love language, and he even went so far as to ask her how she would prefer he respond to certain predicaments if she were to ever get overstimulated with him around.

Inuyasha had proved time and time again that he not only wanted to experience every side of her, but that he deserved it. He deserved it.

It jostled her to the core as she considered telling him now, her stomach churning, her heart pounding erratically, her bottom lip quivering as she’d learned to expect rejection. It was why she struggled initiating anything. It was why she had trouble saying the words to anyone but herself, “I want.” It was a learned reaction to her past trauma, but Inuyasha, the half dog demon she called hers, the silver-haired man who always did everything he could to make her feel safe while with him, the person who treated her as special as he’d insisted she was, wasn’t the one who’d hurt her. So, she’d decided over a week ago, she was going to do it. She was going to do it and let him know. Best case scenario, it was always nice to hear you’re loved and he may end up appreciating her confession. Worst case, things were going to get awkward and tense and it may end their relationship for good.

Kagome wanted to be Kagome again. Not the person she was before she’d met her ex. Not exactly, at least. She still wanted the lessons she’d learned with him to be applied to who she was. They were valuable, and not everything she learned had her closing off. As an open-minded thinker, she realized that not every wound left a scar, so not everything that happened made her a victim. Some things are just incidents that taught her lessons to take into tomorrow. So, she wanted to return to Kagome, the bright girl who faced her fears, who wore her precious heart on her sleeve, her loved with everything she had no matter what, but who was just a few experiences wiser. But, no one could do that for her. No one could give her that push she needed. It all came from within.

Of course, so did fear. So did nausea. So did that anxious part of her brain that said, “Let’s do it tomorrow, instead. Or, the day after that.”

Kagome took a deep breath, trembling as it may have been, and looked over to her boyfriend. He’d just removed his shirt from over his head, his short, tousled, silver strands appearing slightly messier than before once he was free, and he glanced over his shoulder her way, most likely feeling her eyes on him.

“Inuyasha,” She tried to come off as stable as possible, but there was an obvious waver in her tone that gave her trepidation away.

“Hm?” He hummed, the corners of his lips twitching downward before he dropped his shirt on the floor and faced her better.

“Can I - um…” It was impossible to hold her eyes steady on him, her deep, brown gaze falling to the floor every time she picked them up to look at him. “I need to talk to you about something.”

“Okay. I’m all yours.”

Kagome took another breath, willing her body to stop fidgeting. It was Inuyasha. It was just Inuyasha. As soon as she realized there was no stilling her fingers beneath the clothes and towel she held, or the way she bit hard into the inside of her bottom lip, she felt the best course of action was to simply carry on; wavering eye contact, trembling fingers, quivering lips, and all.

“Let me first preface this with: please don’t say anything. Just let me get it out there. I don’t expect anything from you in return, there’s no pressure whatsoever, and I would rather you not say anything at all. Like, at all. Okay?”

Truthfully, Inuyasha was freaked out. Had something happened? Was she about to admit to something bad? Kagome looked about ready to breakdown and cry, and the fact that she was asking for him to remain completely silent only told him she was afraid of judgement. Never had she asked him to stay quiet before. And, he hated how apprehensive his girlfriend looked right now. His instinct was to solve the problem, so what was he supposed to do here but agree to her terms?

“What’s going on, Kagome?”

“Please?”

“Alright. I won’t talk. Now, spill.”

She pinched the back of her wrist to stay grounded, to keep from crying. God, she was so pathetically nervous, and three times now, she’d almost convinced herself to back out and pretend it was a joke. That wouldn’t be right, though. She wanted to cry so bad and she hadn’t even said anything yet, so she pinched herself harder, her nails incidentally digging in. As soon as she felt a degree of control fall back into her grasps, Kagome leveled her gaze at him.

The words sat on her tongue, weighted with the shackles she’d placed there herself. A lump had formed and solidified in her throat, clinging for dear life and making everything so much harder than it needed to be. God, she was really shaking. Her breathing was becoming unsteady as if she’d already started crying and she could feel her expression crinkling into something terribly sad. She knew that was how she appeared only from the way Inuyasha’s lips parted, how his brows curved in worry, how he wanted to reach for her but seemed so confused that he could only stand there and wait.

Like a bandaid. Once the words were out, it wouldn’t be so bad anymore. She just had to get through it.

“Um - I - I - I am -“ The stammering was relentless, and out of sheer obstinance, Kagome shied away for one moment, took a short breath, huffed it out, then faced him again. “I’m in love with you.”

There was a slight arch to his brow, and his chin inched to the side minutely. Very slowly, Inuyasha’s lips sealed and his gaze hardened, falling to the ground. Hastily, Kagome followed her confession with disclaimers, irrevocably panicking.

“A-and, I don’t expect you to say it back! You don’t have to say a word about it! There’s no pressure at all, Inuyasha! I swear!” With each statement, he seemed to be growing more and more tense, and Kagome was terrified she was only making matters worse, but she blinked profusely so her tears didn’t have the chance to breach the brim of her lids. “I just wanted you to know. So, yeah. Now you know.” Her voice had fallen to a hitch just above a whisper at that point, admonished.

Inuyasha kept his promise. He didn’t speak. Kagome was stiff in her spot, not quite knowing what move to make next. She hadn’t thought this far ahead. It was hard to think beyond her admittance in the first place. It was too quiet, and she could hear the clock in the living room loudly ticking seconds by.

“Just nod or shake your head; do you still want me to stay?” She asked sheepishly.

Finally, Inuyasha’s glowing stare rose to hers again, and it frighteningly seemed to grow harder, more tense. She saw the rigid muscles of his jaw clench, and his chest rose with the very slow inhale he took through his nose. Steadily, the hanyou responded with a firm nod. In the next moment, he gestured for her to head down the hall to the bathroom with a notch of his chin, which she wasted no time in complying to. Kagome bit her lip, hard, shakily turned on her heel, and left Inuyasha alone in the room.

The second he heard the bathroom door lock and the shower turn on, Inuyasha dropped his seat on the bed, crumbling forward as he braced his forehead in his hands, elbows jabbing into his thighs. His chest was physically aching, his throat tight, and Inuyasha felt thoroughly crushed. He could literally see the fear in her eyes, the anxiety holding her by the neck. Why? Had he given her some reason to worry? Had he made it seem like that was a taboo topic?

It didn’t take long to rationalize. Logically, he knew it wasn’t him. It wasn’t personal. And, he knew that because he knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of unadulterated vulnerability. It felt like you were naked, exposed to the world, trusting someone with something so valuable and important when you weren’t even sure if you could trust yourself with something like that. It was hard. It was nerve wracking.

But, there was something deeper to it.

Why else would she insist he didn’t respond? It was clear as day. He knew that feeling. He’d been hurt before, too. They’d been together for almost half a year, he knew a good portion of her story, and she knew just as much about his. It was impossible to know it all quite yet, though. Five, six months may seem like a long time to some, but it’s honestly nothing in retrospect. They’re just scratching the surface. He knew the general aspects about her abusive father, he knew she had an emo phase in high school, he knew the superficial shit like her favorite colors, foods, drinks, what medications she needed to take and how often, he knew how she tasted, her tickle spots, where the heating pads were stashed in her apartment - because she had multiple for easy accessibility depending on what room she was in while she was down for the count on her period, and he knew she’d had her heart broken before. But, he didn’t know every little detail about certain things yet.

Inuyasha had had his heart broken before, as well. He knew that feeling. He knew how gruesome and tedious it was to start over, how awful the idea of opening up all over again was, how awkward and weary it felt to tiptoe around specific subjects until you felt comfortable enough describing them, so on and so forth. He knew. Just, apparently, not as well as Kagome did. He was willing to guess that her heart wasn’t just broken. It was trampled on.

His most recent relationship was up and down. He and his ex were never on the same page. He fell quickly but his feelings were unrequited. Then, later on, she began to show more affection, but he’d become closed off by the time that came. Nevertheless, neither of them spoke those words. They never truly opened up about what they felt, how they felt, or why they felt anything, especially romantically. Up until now, Inuyasha had never heard the words, “I’m in love with you.”

Up until recently, Inuyasha had never felt the urge to say, “I’m in love with you.”

No.

That’s wrong.

Sure, recent was a broad term, but it happened several months ago. Several months too soon, he’d deemed. Kagome was playing with his niece, teaching the six year-old how to use a toy compass she’d brought home from class, and congratulating her excitedly whenever Rin got something right. His niece wasn’t shy by any means. She was talkative, playful, bubbly, and bright. But, she had this thing about being touched. She didn’t like it. Only certain somebodies could hold her, hugs were off the table unless you were one of four people, high fives were a maybe, and yet he watched the little girl ask Kagome to watch a movie with her when she was done with the compass, cuddle up next to her on the couch, and fall asleep on her lap without persuasion.

That was it. Kagome respected Rin’s autonomy and boundaries, and Rin let her in by the third time they’d met.

And, Inuyasha fell. Hard.

Again, too soon. So, not saying it was easy. No big deal. After a while, it sort of began spilling out in his idiosyncrasies, in the way he touched her, worshipped her, in the way he craved the knowledge on how to properly care for her. In his terms, he was being painfully obvious. It was almost humiliating how obvious he was being.

It just looks like it wasn’t obvious enough. How could he have expected her to understand? It’s not like she was fluent in his body language or habits. At this point, if she needed it spelled out to her, he’d happily do so.

Because, despite her overwhelming and damn near crippling fear she’d just waded through, Kagome still told him the truth. Kagome courageously stood there, attempted to look him in the eyes, and told him she loved him, no matter how scared or nervous she appeared. If he needed to say it back in order for her to understand, he could return the gesture without hesitation.

First, though, he needed to comprehend what was going through that head of hers. He wasn’t going to jump to conclusions. This wasn’t the time to do so. What she was feeling, that look in her eyes, it stemmed from something deep, something that wasn’t quite healed. He needed, desperately needed, to know what happened. He’d promised to keep his mouth shut earlier, but he hadn’t promised how long he’d hold that. She may have meant about that topic entirely, but that was something he couldn’t and wouldn’t agree to. There was no way in hell he was going to let this slide. Eventually, they were going to have to discuss this.

Now was that time.

Inuyasha suddenly stood, filled with a rage that had surfaced as soon as she shakily asked him if he still wanted her to stay, feeling so irate that he could only clench his fists and pace the floor. There was a good fucking chance this originated with her ex. Maybe her father, but his gut told him otherwise. The things he knew about that relationship were vague. Kagome didn’t like to fixate on it, which was reasonable for anyone who’d moved on, and they never really found a good time to open up about nitty gritty details pertaining to failed relationships; they were more focused on one another and their individual lives. He was fuming. What the fuck had that motherfucker done?

He knew they broke up over two years ago. He knew he’d dumped her just before their anniversary. He knew their relationship wasn’t entirely horrible, but much like he and his own ex-girlfriend, they were rarely on the same page. That’s about it, though. He’d heard a thing or two about how she’d realized way after they’d broken up just how toxic their relationship actually was - one of those late night, shower-thought epiphanies - but she never much elaborated. Hell, she talked about it all so rarely, Inuyasha had even forgotten the fucker’s name. He was her ex-boyfriend so that naturally deemed him irrelevant, because Inuyasha was her current boyfriend and that was all that fucking mattered. But, now he wished he remembered because it would make it at least a little easier to track the bitch ass down and punch his lights out.

She’d opened the door, and he needed to know what was on the other side of it. Inuyasha not only craved, but found it a foundational necessity to understand what had her so anxious to tell him how she felt. First, he recognized he needed to calm down. He couldn’t approach this with heightened emotion because it would cause Kagome to feel insecure and unsafe, which he would never allow her to feel around him.

That was hard for him to do, though. To swallow his frustration, push it aside. He felt things passionately, much like Kagome did. For her, for the light he always looked to for a sense of peace and felicity, for the woman he respected and cherished, he would do it. He could do it.

It took a moment, but Inuyasha left his room and headed to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water to sip on and an extra one for his girlfriend. The shower had stopped running moments ago, and the hairdryer was now blowing. She was biding time. Kagome, more often than not, let her hair air dry. This was killing him. The fact that she was so afraid, so nervous, the fact that she felt anything but contentment in the face of pure and unbridled emotion. Inuyasha just wanted to burst through the bathroom door and tell her to stop, demand she look him in the eyes and say it again and watch how he would never turn away from her. What could he have possibly said that had her more content with silence?

Content wasn’t what she’d felt at all though, was it? Even after he’d kept his mouth shut, Kagome was still trembling, still incredibly uncomfortable.

He was going to the bottom of this.

But, something in his heart wrenched. Overall, he just hoped with everything he had that she didn’t regret telling him.

There was careful deliberation on where he should wait for her. He’d debated standing outside the bathroom door to guide her back with him, but that would apply a lot of pressure straight from a safe zone. There was always the option to sit on the couch until she emerged, but still, he was worried she’d feel like she was under a spotlight. No matter what, Inuyasha was going to be taking her back into his bedroom. It was cozy and comfortable, and he just wanted to fucking hold her. The best course of action was to let Kagome come to him. When she was ready. No matter how much patience wasn’t his virtue. So, he ambled back through the doorway with both water bottles in hand, placing them on the nightstand as he got himself into more comfortable clothing. He’d never finished changing after dropping his shirt on the floor. He grabbed his grey sweats off the end of the bed and shoved his legs into them after removing his jeans, then fished a black tank top out of his dresser, easily and quickly pulling it over his head.

It wasn’t a bad thing that she’d told him. Kagome should be proud of herself. Over and over again, she’d repeated that in her head, but she couldn’t stop herself from feeling like she’d done something wrong. Maybe she’d put him on the spot and made him uncomfortable. She should have at least given him the space to tell her he wasn’t ready to say it back if that was how he felt. That she would have completely and wholeheartedly understood without fault.

Now she was stuck in an unknown area, her head was foggy, her fingers kept trembling, and her eyes were puffy from crying like a baby in the shower. The goal was to tell him how she felt. It was a step in the right direction. A step toward who she truly was behind the protective walls. From this point on, depending on how Inuyasha was feeling, it might be best to pretend nothing happened. Sweep it under the rug.

Everything was so conflicting, so turbulent, and Kagome could bring herself to do nothing but stare at the bathroom doorknob. Her hair was dry, she was dressed in her borrowed outfit, smelling purely of Inuyasha, and even though he still wanted her to stay, she couldn’t believe anything other than the possibility that she’d ruined everything.

What would happen once she exited the bathroom? Would things be uncomfortable? Would he be laying down in bed, facing the wall away from her, silent? Would he ignore her? Would he say something she was terrified to hear right now? Or, was she trapped in her unhealthy thoughts? Was she preparing a response to something that wasn’t waiting for her outside that door? Was she not giving Inuyasha the opportunity to respond in his own, organic way, expecting all the responses she was trained to anticipate before?

With a deep breath, Kagome reached for the knob, twisting it to exit. The apartment was as quiet as it was when she locked herself inside, the clock in the living room ticking loudly as she slowly sauntered through. Lights were dim, but the bedroom, through the opened door, was inhabited. The lamps shaded the white walls in warm hues, and as she got closer she noticed a very soft hum of music playing through the bluetooth speakers he had set up in there, quiet but still melodic and comforting.

Though her heart was pounding and a jittery sensation within her chest was causing her to tread cautiously, she followed the path into his bedroom, spotting Inuyasha sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He was quick to notice her presence, sitting up and glancing at her, and even though she faked a smile with a curious notch of her head, it was clear he saw right through her. How wouldn’t he? If he already didn’t know her so well, it was obvious she wouldn’t go from cripplingly apprehensive before her shower to sweet and happy immediately after.

Inuyasha noticed the pink in her cheeks, the stupidly cute but feigned upturn of her plush lips, the way her deep eyes bounced away from him before coming right back only to repeat the same motions. His Kagome. His sweet, hurting, beautiful Kagome.

With an arch of his brow, the hanyou wagged his finger at her, ushering her over to sit on his lap. She was hesitant at first. She knew what was coming, but still, despite her slight discomfort, he released a small, breathy chuckle so she knew he wasn’t upset with her.

“C’mere.” He requested softly, patting his thighs.

“What?” Kagome returned, unsure.

“I want you. C’mere.”

Slowly, she crossed the floor, accepting her boyfriend’s support as she straddled his lap and got comfortable. An uncontrollable pout formed on her face when he looked into her eyes, she felt it, and humiliation washed over her, causing her to hide her expression between his shoulder and neck.

Inuyasha was patient, making sure she was secure in her seat before his hands traveled over her. At first, he couldn’t help but hug her tight. In this moment, Kagome seemed so fragile and he could already feel her body shaking against him. She knew he was going to talk whether she liked it or not.

Still, he gave her a little more time, relaxing against him, her chest melting on his, her arms wrapped around his shoulders but accepting his full support as his hands rubbed over her back soothingly.

“You want to tell me what happened back there?” He asked, opening back up the topic.

“Did I do it wrong?” Kagome spoke, her voice small.

“I’m not worried about right and wrong here, baby. Can you look at me for a second?”

Carefully, Kagome leaned back, giving him the attention he requested. His large, warm hands cradled her jaw, his thumbs caressing her cheeks, his eye contact firm.

“I never want you to be afraid to tell me something, okay? Especially, how you feel.”

Immediately, Kagome began to crumble. Her cheeks grew hot and her lips twitched downward sadly. Tears too quickly threatened her eyes, and Kagome was hasty to hide her face in his shoulder again.

“I need you to talk to me, Kagome. What’s going on?” He asked, returning to rubbing her back. In the silence as he waited, he picked up the back hem of the large shirt she wore, pushing his hands beneath so he could gently massage her skin. The heat from her, the softness, he craved it right now. “Was it something I did?”

Kagome fervently shook her head against him.

“I’m never going to understand unless you tell me, baby. That wasn’t the normal amount of nervousness you’d expect when saying something like that. So, what’s going on?”

“I just didn’t want you to feel obligated to say it back if you weren’t ready.” Kagome sniffled, hugging him tighter.

“Okay, I get that. And, what else?”

“That’s all.”

“You can’t lie to me.”

“Can we just pretend nothing happened and go back to our happy date night?” She whined playfully.

“Unfortunately, no.” Inuyasha chuckled, catching her small attempt at laughing off her problems. “I can’t do that while you’re crying on me, Kagome.”

“I’m not crying.” She sniffled again.

“Oh? You’re not?”

“Nope. These are just allergies.”

“And, what are you suddenly allergic to?”

“Feelings.” Kagome giggled, though she began crying harder, only because her boyfriend was being sweet and obviously getting through to her. She both hated and loved it at the same time.

Inuyasha kissed her shoulder, holding her a little tighter as his hand slipped higher up her bare back. The curve from her little slouch against him had her spine popping out slightly, and ever so softly, Inuyasha traced his fingers over the bones.

“What were you so afraid of me saying?” He all but whispered.

Mustering up some courage, Kagome leaned back, using one hand to meagerly clear her messy face of tears. She took a few unsteady breaths before speaking, her eyes falling to the hem of the collar of his black top, and she allowed her fingers to distractingly drag along it.

“I didn’t want you to tell me you loved me if you weren’t ready or felt pressured, because I don’t want you to take it back later on.”

The hanyou’s brows furrowed inquisitively and he was unable to bite back the reaction of his head cocking to the side in bemusement.

“What?” He almost hissed. “Why would I do that?”

Kagome didn’t answer, continuing to play with the shirt he wore.

“Kagome, why are you afraid of that happening? Don’t tell me -“ Inuyasha had to tense his breath in his lungs to refrain from letting his upset get the better of him. “Did your ex…?”

She responded with the littlest nod, worrying her bottom lip incessantly. “Multiple times.”

“Multiple times?” He echoed on an exhale, his expression widening. His hands were holding her hips, squeezing as comfortingly as possible, but Inuyasha was struck cold. Not only had someone shattered her, but someone managed to look at this woman on top of him and take back their love on more than one occasion? This girl? How? He’d only had her for half a year and he was scared shitless of losing her, so it didn’t make any fucking sense that someone would just toss her aside like that as if she meant nothing.

Slowly, Kagome curled forward, tucking herself against his shoulder. It was like a safety net. Inuyasha was so warm, he held her perfectly every time she felt emotional and vulnerable. As much as she didn’t want to talk about this, she knew this topic would come up eventually. It was a staple of her by now, something she was clearly conditioned to expect after years of receiving it, and even before she fell in love with the man stroking her back beneath her shirt, she knew this issue would arise. It wasn’t going to be easy or quick to work through, that was a given, and she knew he was ultimately going to need to know some of the toxic occurrences of her previous relationship; things that were done to her and things she’d done, as well. She’d considered it was going to be something he’d want clarity on as soon as she admitted her feelings. It was fair. Being on the other end of things, he deserved to know what she’d been through and why she inadvertently responded the way she had.

It was just hard. It was hard to think about and hard to talk about.

But, if she could power through her fear of admitting her feelings, then she could give him everything else, too. It was another step in the right direction, no matter how unsteady the pathway seemed.

“I told him I loved him first, and he responded by telling me I shouldn’t. He was my first love, so I didn’t really know how to react or what to say to that. It’s not like I could just take it back or agree or something.”

“Right.” Inuyasha almost hummed, listening intently to her explanation as he kissed her shoulder here and there.

“Almost a year later, he told me he was falling in love with me. A few months after that, he took it back and said he wasn’t so sure anymore since we’d been arguing.”

The half demon couldn’t control his reaction to hold Kagome a little tighter. It was like an attempt to protect her from things he knew he couldn’t begin to protect her from. If he could control it, no one would ever speak to her like that. No one would ever hurt her this way. No one would ever be able to apply that pressure to her shoulders, because how could she not feel obligated to be perfect and compliant in order to feel valued and cherished?

“Then, I don’t know how long later, he told me he loved me again. It stayed consistent for a while. He’d tell me periodically, particularly when I did nice things for him or if I said it first. Then, again, he ended up taking it back. I had felt it that time and asked him if he still loved me. He said, ‘I don’t know.’ Followed by,” Kagome’s fingers clutched Inuyasha’s shirt, exhaling tremblingly, though she had been doing so well at keeping it together. “‘Maybe soon I’ll love you again, though.’ So, I idiotically stayed. I held onto that hope. I waited and waited until we got into this stupid fight and he broke up with me the next day. He made sure to emphasize that he didn’t love me. But, said he might in the future, we’d just need to stay friends. ‘You never know what the future stores.’”

God, Inuyasha wanted to kill him.

“There was one night after we finally found separate places, we were packing, getting ready to move out of our shared apartment, and we were talking about old things. He told me he never loved me. And, I just never understood why things went on for so long just because he wasn’t sure. Why would you say it if you didn’t? Why couldn’t he have let me go sooner? What good was I if he didn’t even want me there? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, but he was because he literally hung that over my head for most of the time we were together, threatening me with leaving if I didn’t do something right. I have so many things to work through because of him, so many trauma responses to correct, trust issues that I’m projecting unto you, and he walked away like nothing ever happened.” Kagome cried, once again shaking against Inuyasha.

All he could do was kiss her, hush her soothingly, hold her tight, rub the hot flesh of her back. Let her cry. He understood now. He got it. It was why she struggled to take compliments the first time around. It was why she second-guessed sweet gestures. It was why she assumed everything was sarcastic and insincere. It was why she thought her love for him was problematic. She didn’t want him to say anything because she was scared of the words, “I love you.” They meant nothing to some people, they were used as tools, and so easily, they could be erased. Sad thing was, Inuyasha was sure that even if he said the words right here and now, she wouldn’t even believe him.

“Of course, he’s obviously not the sole reason for why I am the way that I am. Can’t give him credit for everything.” Kagome gave a wet giggle, again laughing through her problems. Her coping mechanisms were all over the place, but it was still cute.

Inuyasha sighed defeatedly, laughing lightly as he rested his head on her shoulder.

“So,” He breathed. “You didn’t want me to say anything because you figured nothing was better than something I could hurt you with.”

Her silence was as good as confirmation.

Inuyasha pulled her in firmer, an arm supporting her low back as he picked her up, rotated their bodies, crawled a little further on the bed, and laid her beneath him on the mattress. He had a knee between her legs, but rested on her side, an elbow propping him up while he used his free hand to gently swipe her tears away.

“It was more because I didn’t want you to feel pressured.” Kagome finally spoke after moments of peaceful silence, taking the opportunity he provided to calm down before continuing. “But, then I started to panic. I felt like this is supposed to be a good thing, right? Not everyone is going to respond the way he does, right? I just wanted to tell you so bad. It’s supposed to be a good thing, but I got trapped in my head thinking history would only repeat itself.”

“Baby, are you sure you were ready to tell me?” Inuyasha inquired, dragging his finger along her temple to clean the tears that followed gravity.

She nodded, her bottom lip quivering. “It’s bad enough that I’m afraid of love. I didn’t want to allow myself to sink and be afraid to love, too. That’s not me. I feel like I’d only be letting him stick around in my mind if I did that, but I just want to love you. I do.” Kagome cried, eyes falling away from him. “I wanted you to know, and I’ve been holding onto it long enough.”

Inuyasha leaned his head down, kissing her shoulder. It wasn’t enough for him. He needed to feel her skin beneath his lips so he pulled the baggy collar away so he could leave a tender and invisible mark on her clavicle.

“How long?” The hanyou breathed.

“A month or so.” She matched his soft tone, trying to steady her lungs and bring herself back to a calm. “The night you went on your business trip.”

“Europe?”

“Mhm.”

“Not too bad. It was the groggy voice, huh?”

Though her eyes were still wet and the hair at the sides of her temples were soaked, her cheeks flushed, Kagome glanced back over to him with a hint of surprise. “How’d you know?”

“Because, I knew I’d get a response from you. Always do.” He smirked, planting sweet kisses against her cheek, and moving up to kiss tears away.

“You know I like that?”

“It’s my job to read you like a book, baby. I take my work very seriously. You’re subtle, but I see things I do that you like. You’ve got little mannerisms that give you away.”

“Like what?”

He hummed a decline. “I’m not giving that secret to you. Let me have this. You know what I will tell you?”

“Hm?”

“Do you promise to hear me out? No interrupting, okay? Just listen to me.”

There was an increase in the tension that climbed through her muscles, and her pout turned weary. Inuyasha took a moment to continue kissing her temple, her cheekbone, his palm finding its way beneath her shirt to softly stroke her tummy. When she relaxed a little, he leaned back to look at her.

“Remember that day Rin took a nap with you? I stayed up that night. Couldn’t sleep. I had you here next to me, and I just couldn’t stop listening to the sound of your breathing. I was scared shitless, but the crazy fucking part was, even though you weren’t awake, having you right here helped keep me calm. It was counterintuitive. I was both scared of you and at peace with you. I wanted you to wake up and do that thing where you tickle the small of my back with your fingers because, god, nothing feels better than that. It was like you held all of me in the palm of your hands, and you could easily drop it in the trash at any given moment. But, it’s you. I knew you wouldn’t. That was my night, though. That was the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

Kagome hardened slightly, and he could literally hear how hard her heart was thumping within her chest. She didn’t smile, didn’t frown, didn’t make much of any expression really, aside from her brows giving a minor, inward twitch.

“That was quite a few months ago. Nothing’s changed. If anything, it’s gotten deeper. I’m so worried one day you’ll walk out those doors and never come back. I don’t want to lose you just as badly as you don’t want to lose me.” He was the one to hide his face this time, tucking it within her neck as he threaded his arms around her back, holding her close. He hadn’t expected her to clutch him in return, but she did. Immediately. Kagome supported him through his own moment of vulnerability, but more importantly, he felt it was a way to communicate her reception. “I don’t care how many times I have to say it until you begin to believe me. I don’t care what I have to do to make you feel secure in our relationship. I’ll do it all. You know I don’t say shit unless I mean it.”

“I believe you.” Kagome whispered, a small hiccup at the tale end that jostled her chest. “That’s the scary part.”

He nodded again, pulling away to gently press his forehead to hers for a moment.

“I get it.” Inuyasha breathed before leaning back to look her in the eyes. “But, one of these days you’ll understand that no matter what happens, I won’t take a damn thing back. You’ll see that I don’t want it back. I feel like my heart’s safer with you, anyway.”

“Stop it.” She pouted, but he knew that was her way of conceding. Even as she cried a little harder and tucked herself into his chest so he couldn’t see it. “You’re being too sweet. Be mean to me again.”

Inuyasha chuckled, raising his hand, “As you wish.” He said, smacking it down against her butt.

The little yelp she released was so sad but adorable as she flinched away from the sting, but it inadvertently brought her to cuddle closer to him. The hanyou laughed, brushing his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.

“Can you do something for me?” He asked.

“Hm?” She grumbled into his chest.

“Tell me again. This time look right at me. Don’t look away, don’t fidget, just trust me. That was my first time hearing it. I gotta hear it straight.”

She hadn’t realized Inuyasha hadn’t heard the words before. She didn’t know that. This was big for him too, if not bigger. Was she his first love? Was she the first person he’d ever said that to? Kagome felt a warmth course through her, and even though she was slightly nervous, she didn’t feel unsteady. Not while he held her. Not while his amber eyes were above her, watching her with an emotion she’d never before seen. She came out of hiding with a level of ease she hadn’t felt a moment ago, secure, one of his hands lightly trailing her side beneath her borrowed shirt.

Her fingers had a mind of their own, reaching for his cheek as she softly caressed it, her thumb tenderly rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you, Inuyasha.”

It was like a sigh of relief left his lungs, and the corners of his mouth inched upward. His eyes were hooded with affection, and he leaned down to kiss her, lingering on her soft lips.

“Your turn.” Kagome whispered as he pulled away, her brown eyes shifting from his eyes to his lips.

It felt incredible that she wanted to hear it now. And, though he knew everything was going to take time until she felt comfortable with the idea that he wouldn’t take a damn thing back, he knew it would take time to work through her trust issues little-by-little, he didn’t mind. Because, she was his and he was hers, and he was all too happy to hold her hand and walk by her side while they figured everything out. He couldn’t fix this for her. He hated that he couldn’t take her pain away. That’s not how it worked, though. He knew this. She knew this. Inuyasha was her partner through everything, and he’d be the best fucking partner he could be.

He grinned with their foreheads pressed together, his hand on her waist gripping tighter as he couldn’t help but chuckle from sheer bliss. “God, I’m so fucking in love with you.”

Kagome smiled, pushing Inuyasha over to roll on top, once more straddling his hips as she gazed down at him. She wanted to burn this image of him in her mind. She never wanted to forget that soft look in his eyes, or the way he reached up and tenderly wiped away any remaining tears that stained her face. He meant it. She believed him. And, she hoped with everything inside of her that he never took it away from her.

She curled down, cuddling into her chest and Inuyasha immediately turned his head to kiss her forehead. He held her close, gently stroking her hair back and basking in her incredibly comforting heat. He loved her. He loved her so goddamn much. His Kagome.

“What do you need right now, baby?”

“Nothing.” She hummed.

“What do you want, then.”

He knew she struggled with that one, but whenever he asked, she did her best to communicate properly. “Touch my butt again.”

Inuyasha laughed huskily, his hands gliding down her back to take a firm and wonderful hold on her ass.

“And, pizza.”

“Oh, see, I’m a step ahead of you on that one. Ordered a couple before you got out of the shower.”

Kagome gave a short half whine - half squeal of happiness as she cuddled in closer and kissed his neck. “Thank you.”

[ohheyitsokay]

steal

part 7 of the ‘hey batter batter’ series

pairing: Francisco Morales (Frankie, Catfish) x reader

wordcount: 2.5k

warnings: strong language, mentions of previous substance abuse and mediocre family relationships, a happy, happy ending

summary: it’s a Triple Frontier Baseball AU! Trust me, you don’t need to know anything about baseball.

in baseball, to ‘steal’ is for someone already on base to to the next base when the ball is live, but before his time. 

In this chapter, Frankie takes you out to dinner, and in telling you about himself, accidently goes way too hard, way too fast. 

>>

Frankie called and asked you to an early dinner.

Early, so the restaurant wouldn’t be crowded. Early, so he wouldn’t have the chance to overthink. Early, so the boys wouldn’t catch word and cause chaos.

Early, so he’d have all the time in the world with you, if you wanted.

When he picked you up, neither of you had the time to worry about your clothes or hair or fuss with it, and it was a relief. Someday, you hoped to get the chance to dress up for each other, but for now, casual seemed most fitting. He opened the door of his truck for you, holding your hand as you stepped into it. It wasn’t that you needed the extra help, he just seemed like he wanted to. 

You didn’t see, but his hand flexed, tingling as he walked around to climb in the driver’s side.

The talk came easy - Francisco forwent superfluous pleasantries and when he asked you questions there was no doubt in your mind that he actually wanted to hear your answers. You found yourself spilling about your job, flushing when you caught him watching you talk closer than the road, something soft in his eyes.

It was a stereotype, that a baseball player would like diner food, and you were pleasantly surprised when his truck slid into the tiny parking lot of a mom ‘n pop Hispanic restaurant. It was cute, watching him run around to open your door again, and he asked “Is this okay?” as he helped you down.

In response, you shifted your hand in his until his large fingers were laced with yours, and said yes, of course a little breathlessly. There was a lovely lady both serving and hosting who acted like she knew Francisco, giving him a broad wink and rapid fire teasing in what you could only assume was Spanish. In truth, you were too distracted by the way his thumb was running over the back of your hand, and the smells of corn and peppers and homemade tortillas.

Seated, she asked if you would be alright with anything, and your date looked eager and hopeful, so you would be a monster not to agree.

“So you come here often,” you said when she left. Not a direct question, although you were sure you wanted to hear the story. Francisco grinned.

“Are you flirting with me?” His eyebrows dipped in the middles, betraying a little more hope than he intended.

“Yes?” It was easier to tease as the waitress put plate after steaming plate between you, and a container full of warm tortillas. You spread your napkin over your lap as you thanked her, ignoring the growl in your stomach. As much as you liked that he let you talk, you wanted to know more about him, wanted to give him the chance to say whatever he left out the other night. There was certainly more to the solid catcher than met the eye, learning him felt as natural as your hunger.

“I’m serious though, what should I try first?” You pointed at various things with your fork, and Francisco almost wiggled he looked so happy. It was a dream, having you tucked into the little booth across from him, trust in your eyes.

“The green chili, Anita makes it from scratch regularly and it’s fantastic,” he pointed, eyes watching with joy as you dug into the smothered burrito. Your moan shot through him, warming his whole body more than the food he swallowed in a hurry. “Good, yeah?”

“Amazing,” you didn’t ask again, how he knew, just began filling your stomach. He told you about various dishes, sharing them with you like it was the most natural thing in the world. Eventually, the story came out naturally.

“I used to come here a lot when I first moved to town,” he shrugged. “It’s halfway between the stadium and where my family is right now.”

It was easy to meet his eyes and you didn’t pry. Twirling a long string of molten cheese on his fork, it poured out of him, telling more than you felt like you deserved to know and watching you carefully.

He started at the beginning, how it felt like home, this little restaurant, but safer. His mother and sister lived in a small town nearby. It was messy, his youth, full of shit a kid shouldn’t have to deal with. Baseball had been his way out, his chance at a life he couldn’t have. To be good at something, to have a team to belong to. Clean uniforms and clean money, from prizes, that put meat on his bones and filled out his sister’s cheeks.

He became Frankie, pouring his heart into it until he excelled, working like he needed it to survive.

When the scholarships rolled in, he picked the one farthest away, sending checks from his nightshift part-time home more often than he called. He thought his life was good, that running away was working. Being drafted was a dream come true – and a nightmare. It came with and confirmed nasty truths, about the industry and people who wanted his success for all the wrong reasons. Those first few years were full of parties and bad decisions, chasing highs and losing track of himself in the thick of it all. One night, Santi dragged him back, reminded him why he did all of it, reminded him who they had dreamed of being. Showed him they could still be those people.

“I didn’t really know him then, we played on different teams. But we hit rock bottom around the same time and ended up leaving early from the same party.” Frankie pushed the final few grains of rice around his plate, and you wondered if that was the party Tom had gotten busted at. If they really had rescued each other, more than they realized.

God or fate gave him a second chance, and they got traded to the same team the next season, close to his home. He started visiting, supplying himself instead of just money, still playing the game - but allowing himself to enjoy it, be a human.

A tray of sopapillas came as he was telling you animatedly how bad his mother was at gardening, and how silly he felt trying to help her. It made him glow, his pride at how far he had come and you wanted to hug him. Frankie stared at the soft, puffed pastry, as if realizing for the first time he had no idea how long he’d been talking. Then he pushed his card into Anita's hand and shot you a nervous look. You shrugged, but it wasn’t about the payment, at least not entirely.

“Would you want to take these to go?”

“Go where?”

“I was thinking maybe… to meet them?” There was a silent beat, as your hands almost dropped the plates you’d been stacking.

“Wait, shit, sorry I just –” Frankie had never felt so stupid in his life. He blew it, he definitely fucked this up. He had just told you his entire life story and decided now, your very first date? Yeah, that would be a good time for you to meet his family. Thus far you’d listened and reacted like a dream, as kind and considerate as you’d ever been, but this was too much. 

Your laugh cut off his spiral.

“Okay,”

“What?”

“Okay, let’s do it.” You were shaking your head in disbelief, but god was your smile beautiful. Bright and genuine, it made him wonder again if you felt like he did. Like this wasn’t really your first date.

Like you were as deep as he was, already.

-

On the drive he told you the rest of it. His sister was running from herself like he had, except in sucky, deadbeat men. About how when they had conversation that carried them in circles and he wanted to lock her up and force her into therapy, or when the world of baseball became too much, how he went to that restaurant. How he would eat home cooking all on his own, and breathe until he found the right words for himself or for her.

When you offered him your hand, over the middle console, he took it without hesitation. It was soft and fit into his like it was meant to be, and he was reminded again how in awe he was of you. This was by no means what you had agreed to, not normal under any circumstances, but you were trusting him, rolling with it like he was worth it. 

He wanted to be, wanted all of this so bad he could hardly breathe. 

The rest of his story left almost no time for him to prep you, but when the door to the little mobile home opened, his mama greeted you like she knew you were coming.

You were lovely stepping into his truck with your hand in his, and you were lovely across from him with green chili sliding down your chin as you flushed, but this... was something else. It hit him full force, that you had listened and learned and stayed. With Tom hitting on you, with the mess at the party they shouldn’t have been at, with all of the shit in their pasts, and even this. You were really here, at his mother’s home, kissing her cheek and letting her call you his novia and accepting all of his life, all of him. 

His madre only hugged him after you, and her beam brightened as she watched you follow him, in slipping off your shoes. Every time he saw her, he thought she looked a little smaller - you’re just growing, mi frijol -  but she looked small next to you, too. Her voice was extra high as she cooed, ushering you into the cluttered mobile home, and he could help but smile as he followed, too in love with the moment to be embarrassed of her questions. 

You had listened closely, sympathetic but surprisingly determined not to be pushed away. This felt like simply an extension of that awkward and beautiful dinner, the way his mother welcomed you with open arms and rapid fire questions about yourself. She mercifully left out pushy questions about your relationship as you settled into the paisley couch, and Frankie was as warm and solid against your side as he had ever been.

There were little wrinkles around his eyes as he watched you and her, and as you began asking her questions about herself, he was more sure about you than he had ever been. It wasn’t gone completely, the feeling that this was ridiculous and he’d ruined whatever you had by going unreasonably fast with you, but he did his best to ignore it. Instead he focused on you, something he was learning was good luck.

His heart ached when you fit into his side, practically in his lap as you used him to ground yourself. It felt natural, in an intoxicating way, and he wanted you. Just like this.

When his madre thought she heard a knock and went to check, he found himself rubbing the top of your head with his jaw, his cheek, his nose. The whole night felt like it wasn’t real.

“Thank you for rolling with this,” he whispered into your hair. Your shoulder moved up and down again on his chest – a shrug.

“You’ve already met James, it’s almost the same,” you shifted to smile at him, nad he shook his head before noticing your eyes flit behind him.

At the door was a woman, dark stains under her eyes, belly stretching out the thin fabric of her shirt, and eyebrows drawn together.

His sister.

Then his mother came in pushing glasses of tea into your hands, almost as cool as the introduction, and you settled back against Frankie. Your life had become so strange these past few weeks, but you had known for what felt like a long time now. Together, it would be okay.

-

The drive home was dark, and silent for a long moment as you collected yourself, and Frankie was glad the evening started early.

“So this was a long date,” Frankie said, a question and an apology. You huffed in laughter and he offered his hand to you, saying your name with adoration, imploring you to talk to him.

“It was a lot,” you said, honestly, but you took his hand, thankful for the openness.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked, and you could see him struggling not to watch you anxiously. “I didn't plan on taking you home and all that happening, plus my mom calling you my- ”

“I know, Francisco,”

“Fuck. Do you… do you have any questions? Or…” he was beginning to panic, the undercurrent of anxiety finally uncontrollable.

His sister had been short with you, as much as she’d been with him these past few months. It was a lot, so much more than you deserved.

“Do you regret it?” It was an honest question.

Frankie’s mouth opened a little bit, his eyes suddenly steady on the road, really thinking. Then he shook his head, and a knot you didn’t know you had undid itself in your chest. He used his hand to draw yours to his mouth, ghost kisses over your knuckles, mustache only tickling a little bit. “I want you to be a part of my life, querida.” 

The truck hit a bump, and you felt pressure, and then like you were floating. You nodded, trying to find the words to tell him you wanted that, too. 

Finally, you said, “Thank you for letting me,” and he laughed. It was rich and deep and full of relief, almost giddy as it broke the tension, and you laughed too. He let your hands drop back between you, but didn’t let go, squeezing gently.

 The words unsaid didn’t really seem to matter, as he cruised five under the speed limit towards your home. 

 When you asked, “Why do you still go to those parties?” it was the last thing he has been expecting. The rush of wind by the widows felt loud as he thought.

“I guess… sometimes it feels like I’ve got nothing better to do.” It sounded lame, even to him. That wasn’t all of it, it was more complicated than that, but you understood. After this whole time, you’d stuck around, of course you did.

“What about next time, instead…” The stars were twinkling, winking at you, “You go on another date with me?”

“You still want to?” Frankie had hoped, really hoped, but hearing you offer was something different. Fire in his chest, hot and bright and powerful. When he looked over, you were nodding, smiling at him with a certainty on your face that matched his own. 

“There’s a game tomorrow,” he was half joking.

You laughed. 

“Okay.”

He pulled over under a streetlight to kiss you. 

<<

translations:

madre - mother

novia - girlfriend 

mi frijol - my bean

taglist:

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge

hey batter batter taglist:

@icanbeyourjedi @studyofawearymind @hnt-escape @athalien @the-witty-pen-name @daffodin @sarahjkl82-blog @pintsizemama @anaaaispunk @pjkimrn @dobbyjen

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 3

chapter 1 chapter 2

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia, blood, gore, and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: A close call has you on the move.

Note: Alright, things are ramping up. As always, mind the warnings and take care of yourselves.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

A third glass of wine helped you sleep better than you had in the last week. You didn’t remember much past the bottom of the glass; only the fear and the way it burned your throat. You didn’t remember falling asleep or even going to your bed. 

Slowly, as if drowning in oil, you woke. One eye opened, then the other. Your head pounded as the grey winter light peeked in. You groaned and a sudden crash made you shoot up in your bed. The duvet fell away from your chest as you listened to the grunting and the footsteps barreling across the floor. You were dizzy as your heart raced.

You kicked out from under the covers and stumbled frantically to the bedroom door. You peered out into the living room, the dark figure at the open door. Bucky braced himself against the frame and swore. He looked as if he would bolt out until his eyes settled on you.

He gritted his teeth and pushed himself straight. He closed the door and locked it firmly. He shook his head and crossed to you.

“I didn’t mean to wake you--”

“What’s going on?” You looked around. The coffee table was overturned, the lamp too, and pillow leaked its innards onto the floor. “What was that? What happened?”

“It’s okay, I think I got him much worse,” Bucky assured you. 

You noticed for the first time the knife in his hand. The same black handle that he holstered on his belt. You blanched as your eyes scaled his torso and the dark blood spread across his grey tee shirt.

“Did you?” You asked as you backed away. “Oh my, that’s a lot of blood.” You touched your stomach, still sensitive from the night before and roused by the sight of red. “Are you okay?”

He looked down and touched along his ribs. He hissed and carefully set down his knife on the arm of the couch. “Shit.” He pulled open the slice in the cotton and chuckled. “Fucker got me good.”

“How can you laugh?” You gasped. “What do you mean-- Was it him? Was he in here?”

“Yeah and so was I,” Bucky raised the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “I took care of him.”

“He got away,” you looked at the door. “He got in! How could he--”

“Well, I assumed it was easier in a carrier’s uniform,” Bucky bunched up his shirt and stemmed the blood with it. His thick arms tensed and his broad chest puffed out. “But… I think I got a decent peek at his face.”

He went to the lamp and pulled it up. You watched him stunned. How could he be so casual? Your eyes fell to a trail of blood that led to the door and was smeared across the side of the coffee table.

“I told you, I got him worse,” Bucky said as he looked at you. “You got some bandages, or something?”

He sat heavily and leaned back as he looked under the tee shirt. You blinked and nodded dumbly. You recalled the video call the night before; the woman’s blood pouring from her throat, bubbling along her lips. You went to the bathroom and searched beneath the sink for the first aid kit you’d never even opened.

You came back out and unclasped the metal box. You set it on the corner of the couch and bent to flip the coffee table. Bucky stopped you. “Leave it. It’s got evidence on it.”

You stood and stared at him as he took the first aid kit and balanced it on his thigh. He stirred around with one hand and pulled out the bottle of alcohol. He pressed down on the tee before removing it and sprayed the gash. You slumped onto the couch and tried not to look. You had never done well with the sight of blood. There was so much, you could smell it even.

“Shit,” he uttered, “I think I’m gonna need some help.”

You looked up again and he pulled out a spool and a packaged needle. You’d never thought you’d need those.

“I can’t-- Blood, it makes me… sick,” you murmured. “I don’t know--”

“Well, I can’t exactly see well enough to do it myself,” he grunted. “Honey, it’s fine. It’s nothing serious but it needs stitching.”

You squinted at the pet name. The more he said it, the more odd it seemed. You weren’t his honey, you were a job. 

You sniffed and neared him. Your hand shook as he ripped open the packet and threaded the needle. You took it from him as he held it out. You stared at the metal point then glanced at him.

“I’ve never…”

“Have you ever sewn? A cross-stitch maybe?” He asked.

“I took home econ in high school but that was… a long time ago,” you swallowed. “What if I make it worse?”

“It’s just like a tear in a pair of pants. That’s all. Don’t think about it. Just--” He gripped the tee shirt tightly, “Do it.”

He lowered the cotton and bared the cut again. Your lashes fluttered and you let out a long breath. You got closer and bent over him. You hesitantly touched the flesh along the cut and pointed the needle along it. You bit down as you poked his skin.

“Come on,” he rasped, “We got a lot more to do.”

You pushed the needle’s nose through his flesh and your stomach flipped. You held your breath as you pulled the threaded through and repeated the action, again and again. His blood stained your fingertips and when you reached the end, he stilled your hand and took the needle from you. He looked down as he knotted the tail and you barely kept from tripping over the coffee table as you retreated.

“Go. Pack a bag,” He pushed himself to his feet as he tossed the thread in the kit and slid the needle back into the plastic. “I’ve gotta make a call. I doubt they’ll let you stay here any longer.”

“Where will I go?” You asked as you rubbed your fingertips, still wet with his blood.

“Somewhere safe. I promise.” He said as he wiped his hands on his tee shirt. He looked around and bent to retrieve his phone from beside the tv stand. “But right now, we don’t have time for all the questions.”

You just nodded as he dialed and retreated to wash your hands. 

As your adrenaline slaked away, your hangover became more apparent. Not only your head, but your entire body ached. Had it been worth fleeting moments of oblivion?

You went to your bedroom and dug around the closet for the wrinkled old duffel bag. It felt hopeless; futile. Even with Bucky there, that monster had almost gotten to you. Was there anywhere he could keep you safe?

You shoved some clothes in the bag and went to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush and other toiletries. You heard Bucky talking and the distant voice buzzing from the speaker.

“We need somewhere more secure. I understand, I didn’t expect it so soon but… well, he knows now. He’s going to be even more desperate…”

You zipped up the duffel and marched out to the living room. You plopped it on the floor and crossed your arms. Bucky hung up as he turned to you, dropping his fingers from the blinds he’d been peeking through.

“You said he would hide for a bit,” you said. “But… why is he doing all this?”

“We’re just going of the BSU assessment. They can be wrong. They can draw up a whole profile but it’s almost impossible to predict what these types do next. We went off similar cases, similar circumstances. But like I said, this isn’t our typical suspect.”

“Uh huh, and yet you won’t tell me how. And he’s dangerous enough to almost get past you--”

“Not even close,” Bucky insisted. “Honey, come on. I do this all the time. You have no idea what the fuck we’re dealing with so stop it with the questions and go get changed. Back up’s on the way.”

You flinched at his tone. You huffed and shook your head. You went back to the bedroom and pulled out some jeans and a long-sleeve sweatshirt. You really didn’t care what you looked like.

When you entered the living room again, Bucky dropped your bag closer to the door. You crossed your arms as he took his hoodie from over the back of the couch and zipped it up over his bare torso. You grabbed your phone from the shelf where it was charging and he was on you in an instant. His hand covered yours, the metal cold and hard.

“You have to leave it,” he said. “We can’t compromise our new position.”

“What? But--”

“What do you think is going on right now? Life as you know it is over. No more phone,” he yanked the cell from your grasp, “No more apartment, no more work.” You grimaced and held up your phone. He squeezed until you heard it crack and it bent in his metal grip. “You got to trust me.”

“What the fuck? You didn’t have to do that.” You stared at your broken phone as he dropped it back on the shelf.

“Honey, you gotta start listening to me. Fuck around and I can’t protect you.”

Your lip twitched. Honey, honey, honey. That wasn’t your name. You shrugged and spun away from him.

“When are we going?” You asked.

“Soon,” Bucky said, “Get your coat, your shoes. I’m just waiting for the call.”

You brushed by him and pulled on your boots, ignoring your heels. You grabbed your jacket and you heard a soft vibe. Bucky reached over your shoulder as he took his own coat and stepped into his own boots. He exhaled as he checked his phone.

“Alright, let’s go. Back door.” He directed as he turned the lock, “Come on.”

He opened the door and grabbed your duffel. He waved you into the hall and locked the door behind him with one hand. He tucked away his key and nudged you onward. Only the stomp of your boots sounded as you hurried down the stairwell and he pushed by you to open the heavy door.

He ushered you out into the early morning chill and caught your elbow as he followed you. He urged you across the parking lot to a black car with tinted windows just at the edge of the tarmac. He opened the back door and tossed our bag inside.

“Get in,” he said as he looked around. “Now.”

You ducked through the door and Bucky climbed in the passenger seat. You blinked as you caught a glimpse of the driver in the rearview. Then he turned to nod at Bucky and you recognized him. Steve Rogers greeted his old friend with a quiet ‘hey’.

“Go,” Bucky demanded. 

“No introductions?” Steve put the car in gear and pulled past the rows of cars.

“This is Steve,” Bucky said sharply as he looked back at you, “I know you’ve read the case file. You already know her.”

“Where are we going?” You asked softly as you leaned on the duffel.

“Safe house. About two hours out,” Steve answered before Bucky could. “You’ll be safe there.”

You chewed your lip. Well, surely two was better than one and yet Captain America’s presence was hardly reassuring. That just confirmed to you how fucked this whole situation was.

“Fury didn’t like the last minute notice but he understood,” Steve said to Bucky.

“Mmm, we can talk about it later.” Bucky grumbled. “Honey, why don’t you get some more sleep. It’s gonna be a long ride.”

Steve peeked at you in the mirror as he turned out of the parking lot. He glanced at Bucky next but stayed quiet as his eyes returned to the road.

“Take your own advice, Buck,” Steve snickered. “You both look like you need it.”

👁️

You didn’t sleep. You couldn’t. A mixture of anxiety and the shadow of alcohol kept you awake. Even so, you closed your eyes and kept quiet in the backseat. The motion of the road lulled you and helped ease your headache. Few words passed between the men up front.

When you did open your eyes, tall trees passed you by and lined the winding road ahead. You were well out of the city but couldn't guess where. Maybe you should have paid attention. Or not. It was better to be far away, to lose yourself in hopes your stalker would as well.

The cabin was nothing special. It looked like any other retreat away from the world. Deep in the heart of the forest, it felt an entirely different world. As Steve killed the engine, you sat up and unbuckled your seat belt. You slid out of the backseat with your bag in hand as Bucky went to the trunk and pulled out a bag of his own. Steve did the same and checked the time on his watch.

You followed Steve as Bucky stayed to your rear. You didn't miss his hand on his knife or the way he looked around. Up the steps, you wait as Steve pressed his hand over the sign that said “home sweet home" and the door clicked. He nudged the door open with his foot and let you in. Bucky closed the door and the latch whirred loudly back into place.

Steve turned and opened a panel beside the door. He pressed a finger against the screen and quickly typed in several codes. A sudden lurch and the shudders rose on their own; metal slats folding and rolling up in unison. The lights all flicked on at once and the growl of a generator rose from below.

"Windows are bulletproof. There's no way in or out without one of us," Steve pointed between himself and Bucky, "And most assuredly, you have two super soldiers watching your back." 

"Mmhmm," you muttered as you looked around. "Well, I think it's bad enough I even need two."

"Well better than none," Bucky said. "Steve, you can show her around. I need to call HQ, give a description of this guy before it's too far gone."

"Sure," Steve said and waved Bucky off. He turned to you as he unzipped his coat. "Not sure why he's asking me. I've never been to this one before."

"How long will I be here?" You asked as you took of your jacket and he took it from you to hang it over his own. 

"Well," he leaned on the wall as he removed his boots, "I hope not too long. If Bucky got a good look at this guy, no more than a week or two. "

"So… you know… everything?"

"I've caught up," he said, "Not gonna lie, it's… intense but you shouldn't worry. Me and Bucky, we've never had a mission we couldn't handle."

"Guess it's better than being on my own," you said. "I just… why me?"

He tucked his hands in his pocket and looked at you. "Well, from what I know, these types rarely have logical reasoning. You can't blame yourself." He shifted his weight on his feet, "Hey," he pointed behind you to the next room, "A woodstove. How about that?"

👁️

When Steve finished the tour, or rather aimless wandering, of the safe house, he let you pick a room. There were several and you didn’t give much thought to your choice. You just wanted somewhere to relax. It was barely after noon and already it felt like the day had dragged on. After such a terrifying night, you had been thoroughly unprepared for the startling reality of the day.

He left you to seemingly ordinary room. A double bed, plaid duvet, chestnut night tables and a matching dresser. A carpet woven in the Navajo fashion was sprawled across the floor and a small desk looked out the window. A portrait of pine and maple seemed to mirror the view on the opposite wall and added to the cabin’s cozy allure.

You placed your duffel atop the dresser and slid open one drawer at a time as you unpacked your hastily collected attire. Two pairs of jeans, a pair of pajamas, a pair of loose shorts, socks, several shirts with vary styles and sleeve lengths, a second bra, and your scramble of toiletries. The only thing that was missing were your underwear. You swore you had grabbed those first as they lined your top drawer but they were no where to be found in your mess.

You could’ve overlooked them. Easily. You were so rattled, so hollow, so suffocated by terror that you couldn’t think of much but the smell of blood and the voice that grew clearer and clear in your mind.

Your head continued to pulse with the dregs of your previous night’s excess and the bile boiled in your stomach. You sat on the bed and held your head. You took a breath, restless despite your fatigue, and sighed. You hadn’t done anything and yet it felt as if you had dug yourself into the hole. As if no matter what you did, the pit got deeper and deeper and soon the dirt would start to pile in on you.

You shook off your despair and stood so quickly you stumbled. You needed to just stop. You needed to breathe; calm down. As blunt as Bucky could be, he was often right. You had him and Steve looking out for you.

You peeked out into the hallway and listened. You heard the two men talking but they were not close enough to decipher their words. You stepped out and crossed to the washroom just opposite your room. You locked yourself in and searched the cupboard for a towel. There were at least a dozen to your surprise and you hung one over the bar before you twisted the faucet on.

Anything to wash away your hangover. To cleanse you of the constant dread of your existence. A couple minutes under a hot shower to forget. A few moment for yourself. To just be.

You undressed and winced as the peculiar pain between your legs. You’d felt tender for much of the day and assumed maybe the stress was bringing on an early period. No blood, however. You felt grimy as you peeled off your layers and stared at yourself in the mirror. You looked as worn out as you felt.

You slipped past the curtain and welcomed the sheer heat of the downpour. You let it wash over you, let the steam smother you, let the rivulets slake over you and swirl down the drain. It was second, minutes, hours, eons… you could not tell.

You were sleepy as you turned off the tap. You wrapped yourself in the fluffy white towel and gather your clothes. There wasn’t much for you to do here; Steve had said as much. You stepped out into the hall and were startled by the figure in your bedroom door. Bucky turned to face you. His eyes flicked down for just a moment as you clutched your towel.

“I knocked,” he said. “I didn’t realise--”

“It’s fine. What do you need?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“As good as I can be,” the warmth seeped from you as the air nipped at your bare skin, “Thanks.”

“Good, good,” he nodded and smiled awkwardly. “I have a favour to ask you.”

“A favour?” You hugged your clothes in one arm as you kept your distance.

“Well, we only have rations really in the cupboards. Not very good. Vacuum sealed and bland. So thought maybe you could make a list and me and Steve could take care of that tomorrow.” He explained. “And anything else you need. Shampoo, toothpaste, whatever…”

“Oh, uh, sure,” you pressed your lips together. “You mind if I, uh, get dressed then get back to you?”

“Y-yeah,” he seemed to realise he was blocking your door, “Yeah, go ahead. I’ll be downstairs. We’re just going over some evidence.”

“Alright,” you sidled past him. “I’ll be down soon.”

You quickly closed your door and leaned against it. You listened through the thick wood. You heard a soft tap and the drag of something against the other side. A whisper you could not discern before his footsteps finally retreated. Odd but perhaps you were only hearing things. Paranoia could make the tallest tales seem true.

You dressed, mournful of your forgotten underwear, and made your way downstairs. Bucky sat with his back to you as you entered the dining room, a chandelier with fake candles hung from the ceiling and cast hazy shadows along the walls. Steve sat to his left and slid over a piece of paper. 

Both heard you enter and looked over at you; Steve smiled, Bucky stared pensively.

“I can make that list now,” you neared as you hugged yourself. “It’s chilly in here.”

“Oh…” Steve looked down then scoffed, “Yeah, afraid we’re not so sensitive to it. We tend to forget.” He stood and stretched his arms. “I’ll go figure out the furnace.”

“So, have you--” Your voice caught in your throat as you neared. You caught sight of the frantic scribbles, the smeared led across the paper. Bucky tried to sweep the sheet into a folder but you stopped him as Steve froze behind his chair. “What is that?”

He didn’t need to tell you. It was a drawing of you, crude but discernible. You were bound and naked, legs wide and there was blood smeared down your chest. You gaped at the sketch and shook your head. Bucky stood slowly.

“He did this?” You rasped. “How many-- how many of these has he done?”

“It’s confidential,” Bucky snatched the paper and placed it in the folder. “You shouldn’t be looking at all this.”

“After last night? After he broke into my apartment this morning?! What am I supposed to do? How can I do anything if I know nothing?”

“We are taking care of it,” Bucky grabbed your shoulders. “So you just be a good girl and let us.”

“I can’t do nothing! Please, do you have any idea what it’s like? All I can think of is this-- this monster and everything he’s done. What he’s gonna do to me.” You latched onto his wrists and tried to pull him away. “I almost just wish he’d have it done with.”

Bucky growled and Steve warned him with a hum. He dropped his hands and backed away from you. He stacked up the folders and looked at Steve.

“Take her back to her room before you deal with the heat,” Bucky said. “Lock her in if you have to.”

“What? You can’t--”

“Honey, I can do whatever I want to keep you safe,” he pointed a finger in your face. “I have the clearance.”

You snorted and glanced at Steve. He gave a pitiful look in return. He motioned to the doorway as he raised his brows in exasperation. You didn’t look at Bucky again as you turned and stormed out ahead of Steve. As he caught up to you at the bottom of the stairs, he kept his voice low.

“I won’t lock you in,” he said, “Just don’t push him. He just needs time.”

“He needs time?” You scoffed.

“Look, he told me what happened this morning. He’s not the type to be left bleeding like that.” Steve explained, “And he really does want to keep you safe.”

[thedeathdoctor]

Kinktober Day 1: Voyeurism

The Boy: Brahms Heelshire x Reader

Peephole

Your first few days at the Heelshire manor passed smoothly enough. Sure, the day-to-day routine differed from what you expected it to be when you accepted the position, but it didn’t bother you too much. 

After your five years in college, you had earned your degree, as well as a newfound difficulty with regular sleeping, eating, and sometimes bathing. The days consisted of you rushing to class and office hours and meetings, assignments barely completed in your remaining free time, and in the margins you kept yourself alive. Graduation came and went and then you were alone, degree in hand, a shell of yourself. You felt like the human shaped doll you cared for, hollow and fragile. 

You followed the schedule the Heelshires had given you. Despite being an adult, you felt that it was a good routine for you to stick to as well. It was a hell of a lot better than being in the mental hospital anyway, where they literally did treat you like a preschooler, complete with requiring you to ask them to fill your water bottle. Here, Brahms was your child and your companion. Doing things together helped you; caring for Brahms allowed you to care for yourself by extension. 

Outside of the schedule, you found yourself reading more, painting more, creating more. You found yourself daydreaming out loud to Brahms frequently. You would wax on about places you have seen and have yet to see, your old friends, the family you still talked to on occasion. All of it, including the pain, the divorce of your parents that never went through but should have, how you only made it through highschool because your ex promised he would make the family you always wanted only after you both graduated, the breakup after you realized that he wasn’t putting in any work into the future that he said he wanted, and the miscarriage you told no one about.  Brahms was a good listener, and honestly, that was really all that you needed lately. Someone to be there while you work things out, out loud. 

After putting Brahms to bed, you usually took some time to yourself to unwind and relax. It took a bit to allow yourself to enjoy such a luxury, but regular bubble baths in their fancy, claw-footed porcelain tub became an integral part of your self care routine. Firstly, you found it convenient that you could wash yourself without having to towel dry your hair afterward every time. 

And then you discovered what wonders the handheld water faucet held.

-------

You were unaware of the large, virile man lurking in the walls of the manor, and of the discreet peepholes scattered about the house. Invisibly, the living Brahms spent nearly every moment of the day with you, admiring how you cared for the doll, and longing to one day take its place in your arms. When you spilled your heart and soul out loud to your silent audience of one, he listened intently, hanging onto every word you shared. The mask he wore weighed especially heavily on him those times, a reminder that no matter how perfect he was for you, he was still too irredeemably broken to deserve you. And so, he graciously shielded you from his presence by continuing to exist in the walls, a shameful thing that wanted to live freely in the house - not as a part of it but as its resident, together, with you. 

Trapped in a constant state of yearning. 

The closest he could get to you was by watching you, and holding the clothes that he had stolen from the bottom of your dirty laundry bin. They smelled of you the most, and when he couldn’t find your scent on them anymore, he would carefully place them back in the bin, at the bottom. He soon realized that it was much easier for him to steal your panties - you had a colorful variety of them that you chose to wear at random. Truthfully, you had no idea how many you had, only that you had enough of them. 

And so, as you slipped into the steaming, bubble filled tub, hungry eyes followed you from the unremarkable gap in the bathroom wall. Brahms held up a pair of your worn, lacy panties to the mask and breathed in your scent. His right hand palmed the crotch of his wrinkled trousers, massaging his cock through the fabric as it grew and stiffened. You took a large yellow sponge and began to gently wash up your arms, first your left, and then your right, leaving a trail of bubbles running and dripping up to your shoulders. You moved onto washing your shoulders, and his body shuddered involuntarily as he imagined gently wrapping his bulky hands around your graceful neck and pressing kisses from your shoulders to your jawline. 

The sponge dipped below the layer of bubbles, giving him a moment to pry his eyes away from your body and work on freeing his straining cock. His fingertips frantically fumbled with his pants opening - mentally cursing his large hands for their clumsiness - and letting them fall around his thighs. Cradling the shaft in one hand, he grew into his full length with only a minimal amount of slow massaging. When he held it at the base, over half of it cantilevered from his grasp, two throbbing veins on either side led down his erection to his deep pink head. Precum drooled from the tip, beading up and spilling down in generously viscous strands. He wasn’t sure if it was adequate enough for your standards, and more so felt that you would find it just as grotesque and repulsive as the rest of his body.

Returning his attention to you as you washed the rest of your body, he stroked himself lazily, anticipating what you usually did next. You drained the bath and carefully washed the remaining bubbles off with the hand faucet, making sure that you wouldn’t find dried soap clinging to your skin in the morning. Water ran down your exposed body as you rinsed yourself, before propping your elbow up on the edge of the tub and letting the stream of water find its way between your thighs. You let it trace your vulva in large circles, all the sensitivity in your body migrating towards it and leaving the rest of your body in a soft, blissful paralysis. The circles slowly tightened until it settled on your clitoris, the water pressure teasing it gently, methodically as you coaxed your first orgasm out of your tightly wound body. 

Brahms stroked himself faster with you, trying to pleasure himself at your pace. His movements jerkily slowed, however, as you came. The first time he had watched you, he had spent himself entirely, and afterward could only listen from his resting position as he reclined sleepily against the wall as you worked yourself over and over. From then on he had forced himself into a form of restraint in order to last longer alongside you. He studied your routine attentively, as he did with all other aspects of your life. You would orgasm clitorally a few times, then finish by adding your fingers as well. 

Dizzy and lightheaded with the past few orgasms now settling down into your body, your free hand wandered past your hipbones and cheekily massaged your clit before parting your labia with a gentle finger. Brahms’ movement hitched, imagining his fingers replacing yours, feeling the sensitive, soft skin as it slicked his fingers with your warm juices. A thought crossed his mind - what your taste would be, and if it could possibly be better than your scent - as he held your panties up to his mask once more. He found himself adrift in his fantasies, the feeling of pressing you down into his mattress, feeling your lithe body squirm beneath him as his thick fingers worked themselves into you, your sighs and screams echoing throughout the estate, your taste on his lips, his other hand firmly holding your hips as he teased a cascade of orgasms from you, surrounded by your sweet, dizzying smell, you, you, you it was always you, who I ever needed in my life, please stay here with me and be mine forever- bonding you all to himself forever, entwining the two of you physically, emotionally, spiritually, biologically for all eternity. 

In the bath, you tipped yourself over into the rush of your final orgasm, letting a breathy moan rise from your lips, the sound bringing Brahms to a climax so overwhelming, the first spurt of his thick, milky cum hit the slatted boards inside the wall before he remembered to catch the rest with a cloth. Behind his mask, his mouth fell open as he let out a faint, deep moan, and fell to his knees. The sound startled you out of your comedown, and half cognizant, you froze up and called out to the house you knew to be empty. 

“Hello??”