#if someone were to call her that or a nickname like it shed just. freeze

[uniquezombiedestiny]

o/

💋🌹🔥🍊🍑😊📀🍐💧🌀💤🍇🍆🎀🌺 (sorry there are so many-) any oc you have on the mind/ want to talk abt!

dont be sorry this is amazing!!!!! lol the only bad part is having to copy and paste each line from the post bc tumblr mobile wont let me do it the easy way......

ill do this for sun since i like her and she deserves to be more fleshed out

put it under a cut bc its so long lmao

💋 How affectionate are they with their friends? Their family? Their romantic partner(s) (if they have any)? Are they more physical or emotional when it comes to displaying their affection? Why?

shed be pretty affectionate! more physically than emotionally, but theres definitely both. i feel like her friendships would be important to her especially bc shes been pretty lonely for a lot of her life (especially in unreality - after her first death shes almost entirely isolated from people, other than the occasional unreality traveler or anon). but shed probably refrain from being so affectionate incase shes annoying or something - she wouldnt want to ruin something so important to her or make anybody mad.

🌹 How easy is it for them to connect with others and make friends? On the flip side how easy is it for them to make an enemy of someone? Are they the kind of person who hangs around the food table at a party and never talks to anyone or are they the type who can talk to anyone?

im not really sure..... but she has made more enemies/negative relationships than positive. i dont even know if she actually has a more positive than neutral/negative relationship. im so sorry girl lmfao

shed be the kind of person to just hang around, not really sure what to do/say. theres so many people... but shed probably try to start a conversation or something. in the past (like as a kid or teen) shed be totally up to talk to people. she does want to make friends but she saw the horrors so its a little hard

🔥 Give us a list of general likes and dislikes, such as colours, textures, music, weather and other stuff!

colors - likes warm/bright colors! dark colors arent really her thing though

textures - smooth and cool stuff is soooo nice. also fluffy things like teddy bears (happy teddy bear [the abno] enjoyer)! shed hate those like velvety textures. like fake velvet clothes or something?

music - she listens to vocaloid bc shes based and just like me fr. im never typing that out again

weather - likes quiter weather. more dangerous weather just scares her lmao

other - robot hater. finds the sephirot kinda fascinating but doesnt trust them at all, even if they were human before

🍊 What is your OC’s favourite meal? Snack? Dessert? Drink? Any reasons behind this besides liking how it tastes?

homecooked stuff is always the best.. i dont think shed really mind what. its kinda hard to get specific stuff lol, but she would like saviry food over sweet stuff. she gets a liking for tea over time as a manager - as her first part of unreality hell, she mostly only gets tea lol. good thing shes immortal

What is your OC’s most hated food? Stuff they can’t stand to eat or drink?

i think shed like fruit but if theyre too different shed hate eating it. anything too sour just isnt her thing at all

🍑 Where is your OC’s favourite place to relax or calm down? Recount a story of their time spent in this place! What makes it so special to them?

librariessss. i think shed always go reading books as a kid out of curiosity. shed play coolmathgames on the computers. libraries are generally just a nice, safe place to be. especially since she spent a lot of time there as a kid, she remembers it fondly :)

Is there anywhere your OC hates to go to? Anywhere that stresses them out or have negative memories of?

unreality is a 50/50 'safe but on guard'/'GET ME OUT OF HERE'. she knows shes safe but is it where literally 99% of her trauma takes place lol. unreality is also hostile to people/life, but give it enough of yourself and it wont hurt you.

she has a lot of negative memories of it, with lots of deaths in many different places. shed be wary of like anywhere she goes, knowing anything could hurt her. she is very aware that shes weak, so she tries to compensate with vigilance, knowing when to run

😊 What can make your OC smile even when they’re feeling down? What cheers them up and makes everything feel better for them? Is your OC genrally a happy person and do they enjoy making others smile? What about your OC makes others happy?

animals. give her a cute cat or duck video she will go 'awwwwwweeeee!!!!!'. even as an arbiter she still likes animals. the only good things in the world (also very cute)

shes generally positive, trying to see the best in things, but as an arbiter she starts seeing things more negatively. she likes to make people happy and be a sort of light in the world.... but doesnt really care as an arbiter, kind of resigning herself, saying shes only a tiny part of the world and that shed make no true difference (also being an arbiter and fucking with people is fun). kind of edgy but like. after unreality hell itd make sense okay lmao

however like i said shed never hurt an animal. completely reverts into a positive mindset around a kitty cat

📀 How easy is it to shock your OC? To confuse them? To lie to them, to manipulate them? How are they with feelings of trust? Can your OC be trusted?

its easy to shock her. easily spooked no matter what lol. shes not very easily confused, though, and likes to think things through. lying to and manipulating her are harder, especially in the future/as an arbiter, bc she has like no trust for anyone. she trusts people to do their jobs and such but worries when it comes to relationships/personal things. shed like to think shes trustworthy! she can be trusted, but as time goes on she gets less and less trustworthy.

🍐 What is your OC’s mentality? Are they overall positive? Negative? A bit of both? Describe their thought patterns and reasoning behind their choice making!

like i said, overall positive. she tries to see the best in things and make good out of a situation, empowering herself to get through it.

she just doesnt trust the sephirah much at all so she takes what they say negatively, and tends to not really argue with people who talk badly about her, like "they have a point tbh". she doesnt want to be egocentric or only see herself positively. she tries to make choices that help everyone (and sometimes to gain peoples trust/prove shes a good person).

💧 What is the earliest memory your OC can recall? Do they know what their first words were or remember where they took their first steps? Do they have any mementos of their childhood they’ve kept such as a stuffed toy or tiny baby clothes?

idk what her earliest memory would be tbh.. but she has a good memory. she took her first steps at her own house (technically her parents but still lol). and her parents were SO proud and they recorded it and everything. she couldnt keep anything since she got put into a whole new dimension while at work so. kinda hard to keep anything

edit from another question: EXCEPT her little hairband with the red things (gems? dots? idk what theyre called....)

🌀 Where is your OC from? Where were they born? Do they still live there, if not why did they move? If they still live in the area how has it changed since their childhood? How many places has your OC lived in and where has been their favourite?

she was born in the nest, living a pretty good life there! youll never guess why she doesnt live there anymore. she hasnt moved much, but she did actually move a bit away to work at l corp. the nest is still her favorite place, its just normal place for once.

💤 What was your OC like as a baby, a child and as a teen? (if your OC is a teen or a child, what will they be like as an adult?). How have they changed since then? What lessons have they learned and what things about their youth do they miss the most? Do they have any general regrets?

sun was such a happy baby. full of childlike wonder (amplified by being a child). she was a nice kid, but was also super curious and unafraid to be a menace. she only loses this partially as a teen. she had good parents so she basically learned to be a good person and stuff (pretend i know this part thanks). she kinda just misses her youth generally, especially just being innocent/not knowing things. she regrets not spending more time with her parents.

🍇 Day or Night? Sun or Rain? Summer or Winter?

day, sun, winter. the day is just pretty tbh, sun > rain, and winter is super chill. you can make snowmen and snow angels and have hot chocolate. its awesome

🍆 Tea or Coffee or Hot Chocolate? Sweet or Spicy? Fruits or Vegetables?

hot chocolate/tea (but shes okay with coffee. not preferred though), spicy, fruits! shed be interested in trying spicy stuff tbh. and fruits are nice and sweet

🎀 Do they wear a specific accessory with a special meaning behind it? What is their usual fashion sense like? What do they wear when they want to be comfortable and what do they wear when they’re going to a fancy party? Or do they just not care?

her hairband is from her parents! it reminds her of them and makes her happy :)

she has a pretty good fashion sense, and likes wearing popular stuff, but sorta puts it off as a manager. she wouldnt care much about what to wear is she just wants to be comfy. for a party, shell put effort into dressing nicely though and wear a dress.

🌺 Does your OC have any tattoos or other body art? Does their body art have any specific meaning behind it? Do they have any scars? How did they get those scars? Any birthmarks?

the endddddd! yay

she has an X tattoo on the backside of each palm, and an X scar over her eye. these dont really have a canon meaning yet, theyre kinda just there bc shes the manager lol. though i do think the managers from her like. 'line' of managers all have X scars of their own. as for birthmarks, im not really sure, so no rn.

[rogue-durin-16]

SUNGLASSES AND LIPSTICK STAINS (part I/III)

Summary: after having his heart torn in half at Tina's party, Steve finds comfort in the most unexpected person. Who would have guessed he would develop such a strong connection with someone he's barely spoken to?

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!Reader

Genre: angst (hurt/comfort)

Tags:

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @comfort-reads

Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, Steve breaking down because that needs a tw.

A/N: taking creative liberty to a) move the release of 'Like A Virgin' Studio Album to September of '84, and b) make Steve and Nancy fall apart a bit earlier for the sake of the plot. It does have a second part, but they can be read separately. That said, enjoy <3.

Part II

Part III

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Don't cry don't cry don't cry, I begged myself, stalking out of the boisterous house with my thumb and index rubbing away the tears. Don't cry here, I repeated, not at Tina's fucking pre-Halloween party.

October's sharp air cut through my lungs, making me choke up. Maybe the drastic change of temperature wasn't to blame, maybe it was the lump in my throat I was desperately trying to swallow.

She didn't love me.

Gnawing on my lip harsh enough to draw blood, I put the sunglasses back on in an attempt to hide the inevitably shed droplets of salty water spilling from my lids —though they were dried by the light yet freezing wind as soon as they fell.

A part of my mind was begging me to give Nancy the benefit of the doubt, but weren't drunk words sober thoughts?

Drunk words. As stupid as it may have sounded, it hadn't dawned on me. She was hammered.

I had abandoned a completely wasted Nancy in a stranger's bathroom, alone in a house full of people like Billy Hargrove. God, I was the worst.

"Shit."

My eyes darted a tentative glance at the house over my shoulder before being casted down to stare at my shoes. I had to do it, didn't I? Or I could just walk away.

Breathe in, breathe out.

I could just get into my car and leave.

Breath in.

"Fuck." Sniffling, I turned heel and jogged to the backyard's door I had just walked through in search of a breather.

Navigating the crowd of sweaty, intoxicated highschool students was much easier the second time. Although I was grateful for not having to shove my way back to what had been my starting point, I didn't like one bit the way everyone seemed to spare me pitiful looks when I passed by.

Gosh I didn't want to do it —I really didn't want to— but still my trembling hand knocked on the closed bathroom door.

"Nance?" I hated how my voice so obviously cracked at the nickname. "Nance, open up." I pleaded, leaning my defeated form on the door frame.

A couple of seconds passed. Still no response.

"Nancy." I tried again, my patience running shorter each time the girl didn't reply to my calls. So short that I decided I wouldn't wait for her to turn the knob. "Jesus, Nance, can you—"

I froze at the now clear entrance; my mushed brain refused to fully process that the reason why Nancy was not listening to my request was because she was, in fact, not there anymore.

And what were the odds —genuinely, what were the fucking odds— that the tiny window facing the front yard was perfectly situated for me to see Jonathan Byers helping Nancy climb into his Ford LTD's passenger seat.

That was it, that was what it took. My body allowed me just enough time to shut myself into the bathroom before breaking down.

After sitting down —or more like falling—on the cold tiles, everything was a blur of shoulders spasming and heart pounding in my ears so loud that it prevented me from hearing my own sobs.

In the span of a year, my life had changed drastically —technically for the better, but I had lost my closest friends and pretty much everything that was familiar to me. I got by just fine because I had Nancy, and now she was most likely gone too.

I was alone. Again.

My fingers tangled and tugged at my roots in an attempt to ground myself. I had to— I needed to get a solid grasp of reality, get up, and walk to my car.

I was barely succeeding in pulling myself back together the best I could when the third mistake of the night came to bite me in the ass; I hadn't put the latch on.

READER'S P. O. V.

"Wait!" Samantha's fingers pinched dangerously tight the cheap white lace of my fingerless glove, which gained her a slap on the back of her hand. "Ouch! Where you going?! You just came back!"

"I need a makeup retouch!" I yelled over the party's racket, pushing my friend's grasp off me. "I'll be back in a minute!" I assured her, walking backwards in the bathroom's general direction. "Pinky promise!" Giving the girl an apologetic smile, my digits found the knob at my back and gave it a swift twist.

I didn't even realize I wasn't alone until I was fully inside the room with the door locked behind me.

"Oh my gosh— Sorry! I-" I frowned at how quickly the slouched form dressed in black raised to his feet and transformed into a fairly put together Steve Harrington, sunglasses on, chin up and hands on his hips, as if I hadn't walked in on him crying. "Didn't know... There was someone. Are you good?"

"Yup, don't worry, I was about to get going." He mumbled in a hoarse voice, rubbing his nose as he shifted his weight from one foot to another. "Uhm can I—" his index finger vaguely motioned at the door my back rested against.

"S-sure, yeah." I stepped further into the narrow space, clearing the way the best I could manage for the boy to leave.

He didn't leave right away though; instead, he stopped before me and parted his lips, drawing in a small breath as if he planned on voicing a thought, but nothing came out.

Maybe whatever booze Tina had put on that bowl at the kitchen counter was messing with me, but for an instant, I actually felt... bad for Steve Harrington.

"You uh... Came with Nancy Wheeler right?" I recalled seeing them dancing earlier and, thanks to the awkwardness my malfunctioning mind was putting me through, I completely missed the way he flinched at Nancy's mention. "I can— I can go get her if you want."

"Good luck finding her." A weak, rueful laugh accompanied Steve's sentence as he allowed his frame to lean on the wall opposed to me.

Apparently, he had no actual plans of leaving the bathroom, and it just didn't feel right to get out and let him be on his own, so I chose to tiptoe around the topic to at least get some answers.

"The damsel in distress left without her knight in shining armor?" It was a half mock I didn't bother to hide. After all, I had never been too fond of neither Steve nor Nancy, so no matter how well-intentioned I was, some bitterness was doomed to slip out.

Luckily, the boy seemed to take it with humor, choosing to not only indulge the poor analogy, but also taking on it himself. "Oh no, she left with him actually." He puckered his lips, giving me a couple of rapid nods followed by a resentful chuckle. "Yeah he's the knight in shining armor, I'm just bullshit."

"Jesus, Harrington." I whispered, my sympathy for the boy growing exponentially. I had a slight idea of who said knight in shining armor was, and if my suspicions were correct, what Steve Harrington was playing was a losing game.

"Am I that bad?" He questioned in a reedy voice.

"I... don't know?" It was surprisingly heartbreaking to not be capable of reassure him. "I just know you're a popular kid that sucks at history."

"But I'm not— do I look like a shitty person, like, from an outside perspective?"

'Yes' would be the truth, but the truth wasn't going to help anyone. "I don't know, Steve." I shrugged, grasping onto the edge of the sink's counter behind me. "For what's worth, since you parted ways with Hagan and Perkins, you come across like uhh... Like a better person?"

"I'll take that as a compliment, I guess." He announced, running his fingers through his tousled hair before shoving both hands into his pockets. "Thanks, Y/n."

"Oh, wow." I breathed out a genuinely surprised laugh, tilting my head to the side. "you know my name."

"What d'you mean? We were in like" one of Steve's hands left his pocket to aimlessly gesture around. "What? three group projects together? And that's just this year. How could I not remember your name?"

"I mean— okay, fair, but you're Steeeve Harrington." I leaned forward while dramatically dragging his first name. This, for some reason, seemed to genuinely amuse him; I caught a glimpse of his half smile before he averted his gaze from me. "King of Hawkins High and shit. Didn't really expect you to remember my name."

He snorted at my latter quote, the tension visibly heaving on his shoulders slowly dissipating the more we talked. "You're pretty memorable. Specially considering that you yelled at me for not arriving on time. Several times." He remarked, mimicking my motions, back separating from the wall in order to briefly bend over.

"Sorry 'bout that." An apology wouldn't have been my preferred choice of words in any other scenario, but the moment didn't really call for a witty comeback.

"It's okay, I deserved it." He responded, retreating to his initial position.

What followed was an uncomfortable silence that begged to be broken, but I had only so much to talk about with Steve Harrington.

"I should head o—"

"I like your costume." Either his comment was louder, or he was too in his head to process mine on time. "Sorry, what?"

"Nothing." I found myself dismissing my own announcement in favor of exploiting another topic. "I didn't take you for a Madonna fan."

"Why? The woman's smoking hot, and she got some bangers." His genuineness twisted up the corner of my lips in a confused smile. That was certainly not how I had expected my night to go, but so far I was oddly pleased.

"I like yours." I bobbed my head at his clothing choice. "Risky Business?" He hummed affirmatively, a tinge of pride making his chest swell. "Nice. Can I try on the sunglasses?"

"Uh... Sure."

Hesitance could be read in his body language whilst handing me the glasses. As soon as I got a hold of them, he immediately casted his head down, fixing his gaze on his shoes.

I spun around to face the mirror, deciding not to bring attention to his avoidant demeanor. "What do we think?" I questioned instead in a lighthearted, almost joking tone after putting on the sunglasses. "I personally think they make me look cool."

Steve peeped at me through his still watery lashes and the ghost of a small smile fighting to bring some light to his face. "You look cool."

"Nice try but nope, it's definitely the glasses." I countered, using my middle finger to slide them down my nose enough for my eyes to be visible. "They make a pretty good job of blocking the view, don't they?"

"They do." He muttered.

After catching his eyes on the reflection once more, I did an 180 and hopped on the marble countertop.

"First heartbreak?"

"And last." Steve's brows rose as he distractedly kicked the tiles.

"You know it's completely okay to cry, right?" He huffed, so I insisted on the matter. "Everyone's wasted anyway, you don't need these." My fingernail tapped on the plastic arm of the complement.

"Y/n," Steve scoffed, pushing himself off the wall to approach me. "I have uhhh a reputation." He stated with wide eyes and raised brows and, in the midst of trying to figure out whether or not he meant it as a joke, I found myself cackling. "Are you laughing at me?" He inquired with an outraged frown that I, again, didn't know if I should take seriously.

"I don't know, am I?"

"You better not." He barely had to reach out his fingertips to take the sunglasses from me, which made me suddenly aware of how close he stood. "I'm already sensitive."

"My apologies." I whispered with an amused smile, leaning back on my hands to put some more inches between us.

"As I was saying before you decided to be rude," he made a stop to place back on his sunglasses. "I have a reputation." His hand came to rest by my thigh on the counter. "So there's no way in hell anyone in here is seeing me shed a single tear."

"I just saw you sob, though." I teased with a quirked brow.

"I'll allow that because you've put up with me for" he brought his wrist up to his face as if he was about to check his wristwatch. "A long ass while. I'm sorry for keeping you here."

"It's not like you're keeping me captive," I nodded at the door, briefly redirecting Steve's attention to it. "I could've left."

"Yeah, but you didn't."

"Because I didn't do what I came here for yet." I explained, pointing at my face. "I was supposed to retouch my makeup."

"Why?" I felt the embarrassing urge to whine when Steve pushed himself off the sink. "It looks good to me." He stated in a confused tone, pushing his sunglasses up to rest on his head.

"You need glasses. Like, actual glasses," I declared, scrunching my nose. "'cause you're blind."

He puffed out a jaunty 'oh c'mon', which made a smile creep up my visage. Had I just managed to cheer him up?

"You wanna have a laugh before leaving the bathroom?"

"What do you have in mind?"

Steve's eyes notably widened when I pulled up the side of my white layered tulle skirt, which sent me into a fit of giggles while I fished out my mini makeup palette from my thigh high, and consecutively extended my arm to hand it to him.

"Fix my makeup, pretty boy."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

STEVE'S P. O. V.

No matter how many times Y/n had assured me I could mess it up and she wouldn't mind because 'it's a Halloween party anyway', I still tried to do my absolute best, which obviously required a very slow process for something Y/n could have probably finished herself in a couple of minutes.

"Stay still."

Knocknocknock!

"IT'S OCCUPIED!" The girl shouted, making me yank her face back to me by holding her cheeks.

After the second person who walked in on me attempting to retouch Y/n's makeup, we had decided to put the latch on the door.

"I'm struggling here, Y/n," I absentmindedly informed her, words coming out muffled by the lipstick I held between my teeth while I tilted her chin up. "so if you could please stop moving—"

"Steve, I appreciate the dedication, but you're taking forever." she quipped in a lighthearted manner.

"Excuse me, but I believe you told me to fix up your makeup, not to ruin it." I riposted before blowing away the surplus dust from the brown eyeshadow I had just finished applying. "Okay, we reached the critical point." I announced, putting down the compact case to take the red lipstick bar from my mouth.

"Okay wait!" Y/n, who had until then been lolling on the countertop, sat upright and wrapped her fingers around both my wrists. "Now I want you to take it easy. This lipstick" she shook my right wrist. "Is a menace. You gotta be careful."

"Pfffft I got this," I assured her with regained confidence I had thought lost when I first entered the bathroom. "trust me."

"Alright, I'm trusting you." Her hands released mine and went to rest on her lap.

"But you can't move."

"I won't."

"And you can't talk." I reminded her, holding her jaw still with one hand while the other held the lipstick a couple of inches away from her lips.

"Okay." Our voices had gradually gotten lower until hers became a barely audible whisper, followed by a silence filled only with the distant sound of Psycho Killer playing in the living room.

Slowly but surely, Y/n's plump lips were carefully coated in a deep shade of red. Blinded by self-assurance and the incomprehensible wish to prorogue my time standing inches away from her, I resolved to do a second layer.

Not even halfway through the process, the bar slipped down. "Shit!"

"Steeeve, that's not my lip." She singsonged with a growing grin that made my task much difficult for more than one reason.

"I know. wait, I think can fix it— stop smiling!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I'll fuck it up even more! Damn it, Y/n." I took a deep breath, straightening my back in order to release some tension. "hold on."

Cradling her cheeks to make sure she was kept in place, I brushed the red beneath her lower lip with my thumb, slightly parting it from her upper one as a consequence.

The mistake was quickly fixed, but I was unable to let go. There was definitely something mesmerizing about that shade of red, I figured after finding myself repeating the previous motion with my thumb, this time with a featherlight touch.

"I fixed it." I struggled to find my voice and release Y/n's face, but I managed. Had I not known better, I'd have sworn she sighed when my hands switched her skin for the countertop. "You wanna... Uh... Check?"

"Sure." I didn't have time to take a step back before being frozen in place by her motions; instead of turning around to look at the mirror, she pulled my sunglasses down to my nose and checked herself in the reflection.

The sunglasses must have done an excellent job of blocking the view, because Y/n seemed completely unaware of how my eyes had latched onto her lips and wouldn't let go.

"I'm impressed, Harrington." She commented, returning the sunglasses to my head without a warning.

It took me a second too long to lift my gaze from the red lipstick.

"Steve?"

I wanted to voice my thoughts —I really did—, but my exhaustion only permitted me to act on impulse.

A muted gasp escaped Y/n's throat when I lunged forward to press my lips to hers, which made me realize how stupid that decision had been.

Just as I began to pull away, Y/n's lace covered palm found it's way to my cheekbone, sliding into my hair as soon as my own hands landed on her hips, bringing her upper body closer to mine.

I wouldn't be able to tell whether it lasted two seconds or two minutes, but it felt way too short.

"Okay" her soft panting fanned over my parted lips. "Okay we can't— this—" she puffed, shaking her head 'no' as she leaned back. "We can't do that."

In my haze and my neediness, I could only ask, "W-why?"

"Because" she contorted to the side to reach for a wet towel laying near the sink. "You're dating Nancy Wheeler—"

"I don't know about that."

"and" she went on, shushing me with her index finger before attempting to remove the red mess her lipstick had made on my mouth and around. "I have to see her nearly every afternoon." She might have noticed my confused visage, because, with a sigh, she explained further. "My little brother is best friends with Mike."

"Henderson." My brows raised so high they met my hairline. It had taken me a hot minute to put two and two together. "Holy shit."

"Holy shit." She agreed, giving me a soft push so she could jump down the sink. "Now, I don't particularly like Nancy, but I don't know if I'd be able to look at her in the eye after..."

"Fair point. Jesus, I'm sorry." I groaned, taking off the glasses to manually comb my hair in an anxious manner. "I shouldn't— I didn't even think-"

"No, it's okay."

"No—"

"Steve—"

A loud bang on the door made us both jolt on the spot.

"Y/N! I'M GOING HOME, AND I'M LEAVING WITH OR WITHOUT YOU!"

"Fuck— COMING SAM!" I watched as Y/n's skirt twirled gracefully when she checked herself in the mirror, trying to fix her lipstick before making her way to the door. "I... Guess I'll see you around?" She tentatively asked, sparing me an apologetic glance over her shoulder with her fingers already around the knob.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'll... See you around."

She gave me a small wave before unlocking the door and leaving it ajar after sneaking out of the bathroom.

I couldnt help but let out a quiet laugh at the snippet of conversation I caught from both girls.

"He really touched up your makeup up, didn't he?"

"Shut up or I'll murder you with my bare hands."

[kazuhasdabpen]

the first taste ; childe x reader

wc: 2k. pairing: childe x reader.

cw: VERY dominant!reader ; fem!eader (but mentions having a pussy once) ; harbinger reader ; verbal degradation ; mean nicknames (pig, pervert, stupid boy, etc.) ; footjob/foot humping ; mentions of anal sex (childe receiving) ; small penis humiliation ; subby!childe ; this man is so down bad for you

When it comes to the bulk of it, Fatui affairs are boring, boring, boring.

You essentially act as, well, PR for the Harbingers. A spokesperson for the group, writing letters and signing papers and being a shiny, slightly murderous diplomat in neighbouring nations.

It had been nice to go back to the Motherland after your many, many months in Fontaine. You felt like you’d been working yourself to the bone with diplomatic relationships, and though this was a work trip, it would be nice to see your family and stock up on Snezhnayan comfort foods you couldn’t find anywhere else.

Of course, relieved as you were at the news you’d be getting a small break, sadness still weighed on you. It wasn’t a happy reunion by any means; Rosalyne was dead. The blonde-haired traveler you’d seen in Fontainian newspapers, along with the Raiden Shogun of Inazuma, had defeated her in a duel. It was an honourable way to die, sure, but… she was more than a Harbinger. For the Gods’ sakes, she was Rosalyne, a friend.

You’d found yourself shedding a few tears before you made your way into the chapel, frantically wiping them away. Gods forbid that a Fatuus, much less a Harbinger, show vulnerability.

The churches constructed for the Tsaritsa were always three things: dark, empty, and freezing. Neither you nor your coworkers shed your furs, sitting quietly and staring intently at the coffin in the center of the room.

Maybe, if this were a normal meeting, you’d be chatting with Pantalone or Arlecchino, making polite conversation and smiling at their anecdotes; but the room was dead silent today. All of your colleagues, even the ones less prone to emotion, had haunted, depressed looks on their faces, not uttering a word. Just… staring at the coffin of someone they all could vaguely consider a friend. (Except for Scaramouche, but he couldn’t even be bothered to make it to the meeting. Little bastard.)

And then, there he is. Head of ginger hair strutting through the door like he owns the place.

Tartaglia takes a quiet place on the other end of the coffin, not meeting your eyes.

Good. Don’t.

Of course, it’s rich of you, a Harbinger, to be calling any of the other Harbingers scum bags, but Tartaglia… oh, he deserved it.

When he thought you weren’t looking, he’d stare at your legs, or your ass, or even just you generally, which somehow pissed you off even more. Of course, he usually had the sense to not do this when you could see— as a matter of fact, he’d vehemently avoid meeting your eyes or speaking to you whenever he could. It’s definitely your doing; the calculated glare you shoot at him when you accidentally make eye contact mixed with the sharp words you angle at him when you two do speak has him cowering away from you like a kicked puppy.

You know he’s scared of you. Not just scared of you; he’s terrified of you and everything you stand for, and you know it makes his little cock hard.

It’s both pathetic and arousing. You think, annoying as he is, that he’d be fun to break. He’d crumble so easily with just one touch from you, shamelessly desperate. You can almost see him on his knees, begging for something, anything from you, one of your feet planted on his chest.

It makes a heat swell in your stomach that you try your best to ignore.

The meeting is quick and to the point. You’re pleased that Pierro doesn’t like to waste any time with his affairs, and the whole ordeal is mostly painless.

You realize, halfway through, that it fucking hurts. Rosalyne is truly dead. A friend? Maybe. but certainly a woman you looked up to and deemed honourable.

If tears find themselves gathering on your lashes, you blink them away.

Because you know, when your head is bowed and eyes are fixed on the floor, that he’s staring at you with those enormous blue eyes, drinking you in like some sort of erotica instead of being a grieving person wrapped all the way up in furs.

It makes your blood boil. How arrogant and disrespectful, to ogle someone over a coffin. What an absolute pervert you must be to do something like that; while the other Harbingers express their condolences and prayers to the coffin, he stares. Like you’re some kind of sexy freak show.

Quietly, Pierro leaves. You and your coworkers know that it’s a silent dismissal, and most of the group chooses to leave as quickly as possible, not lingering at their acquaintance’s grave.

Well, except for two of you.

“I’m, uh…” an uncharacteristically soft voice comes from the other side, snapping your head up, “I’m grateful that she is able to have her final resting place in the Motherland. What an honor, to be under the Tsaritsa’s eye even in death.”

The look on your face is much more intense than a glare. It’s pure hatred.

“How dare you speak about her like you cared about her? You said it yourself, that you disapproved of her methods,” you snap, glaring daggers at him, “and keep Her Majesty’s name out of your mouth. Scum.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am,” Tartaglia mumbles, “I just—“

“So shameless. Ogling me over her grave like you did. Some Harbinger you are, eh? You may be strong in a fight, but out here in the Motherland, you’re weak.”

In a moment’s decision, you grab his face. His chin is between your fingers, and he’s obviously surprised, just still refusing to meet your eyes.

“Look at me,” you sneer, forcing him to make eye contact, “Listen, piggy. I know you want me.”

His mouth makes a sound akin to a gasp, unintelligible with your fingers squishing his mouth open. Unbridled fear swirls in his eyes, and it’s fucking delicious. “Do you think you deserve me?”

“No, ma’am,” he answers instantly.

“That’s what I thought. You’re the weakest of us and you know it. Ogle me all you’d like, but until you prove yourself worthy, we’ll start small.”

“What do you mean, st-“

You let go of his face, crossing to the other side of the coffin.

“On your knees.”

He drops immediately, hitting the ground with a painful thud. “Anything for you,” he says, looking up at your figure.

“That’s the most pathetic thing you’ve ever said to me,” you reply simply, grabbing a nearby chair and bringing it to sit in front of him. “Look at you. I bet you think you’re going to eat my pussy, huh?”

The humiliated blush on his face goes from pink to red at your vulgar choice of language. “You want it, Childe? You want my pretty cunt on your mouth?”

“Yes ma’am,” he nods, keeping his hands in his lap— you know he wants to touch you so badly, spread your legs and grab at you and carry out every perverted thing he’s thought of.

“Too bad,” you sneer, pushing a foot to his chest and sending him teetering backwards. “Perverts don’t get pussy privileges. They have to earn it. Like… Pierro has.”

Tartaglia’s face drops as you drag your foot from his pecs to his torso. “And Pantalone, and Arlecchino, and Dottore, and Sandrone… and Scaramouche,” you purr menacingly, crossing your legs instead of spreading them like you know he wants you to do.

(That last bit about Scaramouche was actually a total lie. You just wanted to see the look on his face when you said it.)

“I can earn it. I promise you, I’ll earn it, ma’am,” he pleads, even going as far as placing his hands behind his back. It’s almost cute, the way he looks up at you with those big eyes, humiliated tears brimming on his eyelashes.

“Aw. What a pretty boy,” you coo, “crying for me. Are you that happy to be in my presence?”

“Yes, Gods, you know I am,” he pants.

“Then you’ll be happy with this and nothing else.”

Your heeled foot lands right on his clothed crotch. He gasps, watching intently as you grind the ball of your foot down. His gasp turns into a whimper, breath coming in hot pants into his hand.

“Uh uh. If you’re going to fuck yourself stupid on my shoe, you have to make sure everyone who wants to hear you can do so.” You slap his hand away from his mouth, further rubbing your foot into his dick. He moans like a bitch in heat at the feeling before you pull your shoe away, grinning as you watch him whine. “I believe the stipulations were that you would hump me like a dog, not have me doing all the work.”

Gods, he looks hot like this, grabbing your foot back and placing it on his dick. His thrusts like a bitch in heat, his hands on your calf. “Pathetic,” you smile, the heat between your legs finally starting to get to you. You can feel his dick, and it’s bigger than you thought it would be; but certainly not gut-wrecking like Pierro’s, or even impressive at all. Honestly, he’s kind of small. Not what you’d look for in a partner, but maybe a toy instead.

Perfect for tying him down and putting a cock ring on him and fucking yourself for hours and hours, using him as a live in sex toy.

But that was a fantasy for a later day.

He whines as he frantically humps against you, fingers digging into your flesh. A few minutes ago, you would have snapped at him for putting his hands on you, but now you’re too horny to particularly care. The rush of power you get from the erotic sight is more than enough to satisfy you for now.

“Thank you, thank you,” he whines, hips stuttering. Sweat beads on his forehead and neck, plastering his hair to his skin.

“Tell me, pig. Have you ever been with a woman before?”

Surprisingly, he shakes his head. Huh. Okay, for someone as good looking as him, I just assumed he’d be experienced.

“No?” Obvious delight creeps into your voice, “oh, baby. Will I have to teach you everything?”

He shakes his head again, whimpering pathetically. “I want to cum. Please, ma’am, may I?”

“Not yet,” you say simply, resting your cheek in your hand.

He whines adorably at your response as he grinds his sad, hard cock against your heel. “I knew you wouldn’t last long, virgin. Tsaritsa knows what you’ll do if I let you fuck me.”

He moans again, sounding like a born and bred whore.

“On the other hand, your cock is pretty small… maybe I’ll fuck you instead,” you hum, “bet your pussy is so pretty, hairless and tight. Totally untouched, hm? Let me wreck it with my cock, ruin you for anyone else.”

“Please,” he sobs, tears streaming down his face. Just as a treat, you apply a little more pressure.

“Virgins always get so eager. Look at you, humiliating yourself on my foot. If you prove yourself, I might have to tie you down, you know; can’t let you grab at me like some sort of animal when you’re inside me.”

“Ma’am, I can’t hold it, I’m going to… gonna…”

“Go on, stupid boy. Cum in your pants.”

Tartaglia groans as his hips still, a wet spot forming on the front of his pants. “Thank you, Gods, thank you, ma’am!” he weeps, frantically wiping at his tears with his sleeve. You say nothing as he turns to face you again, resuming his tradition of refusing eye contact with you. “Did I… did I prove myself?”

You stay silent.

“…Yes. Very well, then. You know where my lodgings at headquarters are. Stop staring at me in public, and maybe I’ll let you in when you knock.”

PHEW i basically spedrun writing this… thirsts and requests are open! i’d love to have some more mutuals and friends in the writer community. :)

[kimnjss]

how would taehyung react to someone else calling yn tiny

it’s been a long night. the majority of it spent shipping for a girl you didn’t even care for, why taehyung couldn’t come up with his own gifts was beyond you. never mind the fact that his new girlfriend was the devil incarcerate and definitely had it out for you, never mind the fit shed throw knowing you were the one that picked out the earrings she’ll be opening tomorrow. it’s whatever taehyung wanted, whenever taehyung wanted it.

you weren’t the only one set to suffer today, no all of your friends were dragged along this shopping trip. just all of them were better at ignoring taehyung than you. jungkook and jimin disappeared without a word, walking at an awkward distance while stealing glances at each other.

jin and joon were less discreet, ducking away the moment they were finding a secluded area. loudly waving goodbye to the rest of the group, mischievous grins on their faces. the trip to the mall had gone from something fun for all of you to do together, to a mission to make ailee swoon. and you were sure you weren’t the only one annoyed by that.

you were glad to be back home, not able to buy a single thing for yourself but at least ailee would enjoy her birthday. probably. no telling what would set that girl off when it came down to it, the two of them only dating for two months yet have broken up three times. a lousy pair of earrings weren’t going to repair any of that… but that was none of your business.

yoongi stands in the kitchen, expertly cutting up onions while shouting orders to a willing hoseok. it’s only been a few weeks since the younger boy had been added to your little group, but yoongi had skipped right over the polite phase and fell straight into the grumpy older brother role - it was one he played very well.

once again, jungkook, jin, namjoon, and jimin seemed to avoid all responsibility. the four of them rushing away the moment you were entering the house. a halfhearted excuse on why they couldn’t stay back and cook which no one truly paid attention to. it wasn’t anything new.

they’re not showing up again until yoongi is finished cooking, the scent of meat floating around the house. you’re in the middle of setting the table, taehyung too focused on stealing a bite to properly help you. instead, he’s sending hoseok with an arm full of plates to deliver to you. he smiles when he sees you, a small one that shows off the dimples at the sides of his mouth. and you can’t ignore how cute they are.

you didn’t know much about the guy, apart from the fact that he was taehyung’s roommate and he danced on the weekends. he never really talked to you outside of a group setting and it wasn’t like you were making a group effort either. he was cool, but that was it. taehyung went through roommates like he went through socks, to be completely honest you didn’t know how long this one would last.

his shoulder brushes against yours as he sets the utensils down, taking his time with straightening them out. “hobi! bring this to tiny,” taehyung calls from the kitchen and hoseok is moving at the shout of his nickname, returning with bowls of rice.

“here you go, tiny.” the room seems to freeze at the word, eyes shifting to the oblivious young man. it’s not that big of a deal to you, personally. taehyung had given you the nickname years ago, but who used it on you never made a difference.

he was the one that coined it as his and his alone. and the look of confusion is evident on his face, hearing it come from the new guy. “it’s yn,” he corrects with a laugh, passing him with a mouthful of meat and a large grin on his face.

“she’s only tiny to me,” he says, arm dropping around your shoulder. he makes a show of tucking you under his arm, stare fixed on hoseok who just shrugs, obviously not interested in whatever power play taehyung is presenting. his attention is on setting the rice bowls on the table.

but taehyung has to mend the offense, gaze shifting down to you and a hand lifting to pinch at your cheek, laughing when you’re brushing his hand off with a roll of your eyes. a hand lifts to ruffle your hair, soft coos falling from his lips at your annoyed expression. “my tiny,” he reminds, just in case you forgot.

[harryhandstan]

This is my contribution to @meetmeinfleetwood​‘s “to lovers” fic challenge! I chose the trope roommates to lovers and the prompt “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.” This was fun to write thank you for allowing me to participate!

Thank you to my beta readers @tbslenthusiast​, @witch-harry​, and @sunflowers-styles​! Y’all are the best!!

no warnings that I can think of other than alcohol tw // bc of the wine they share!

word count: 2.3k

writing tag | masterlist

It’s 5:45 p.m. when you finally leave work for the day. You should’ve just said to hell with it and went home at 5:30 like you were supposed to, but you were nice enough not to. Too nice you’d been told in the past, but it’s a flaw you’re willing to accept if it gets you a promotion to the position you ultimately dreamed of working when you started there 3 years ago.

After a quick stop to grab a bottle of wine (or two), your car can’t get you home fast enough. It’s Friday and you’re looking forward to spending time doing absolutely nothing for the next two days but curling up in a blanket and watching Christmas movies in the apartment you will essentially be alone in. Your roommate Harry shared the space with you, but kept to himself for the most part. Aside from dinners and movie nights on rare occasions when your schedule lined up, allowing you to spend the evening together.

As if your thoughts summoned him, your phone dinged, indicating a new message. Your eyes dart down to where it sits in the passenger seat, careful to keep your eyes on the car in front of you, waiting patiently for the light to turn red so you can grab your phone to respond.

It’s one simple word, “Home?” so you know he’s either still working or on his own drive home. 

Your reply is just as direct, “Not yet. On my way! Movie night?” 

The light’s green again so you tuck your phone back into your purse, ignoring the next ding until you arrive home. You’re through the door of your apartment and down the hall before you read his message, “Sure. Chinese or pizza?” 

“Chinese! I’ll pick the movie and you pay for dinner?”

“That doesn’t sound fair :(”

“Alright fine, you get home before I’m out of the shower and in my pajamas you can pick the movie..deal?”

“Deal!”

The race is on then, both of you competitive and determined to win. You have a movie in mind that you’ve been dying to watch all day and you don’t want to have to rock-paper-scissors to break the tie like you usually do when the two of you don’t agree on who wins  these little games. 

You’d already shed most of your layers of clothing easily as you moved through the apartment; your boots kicked off by the door, jacket gone and thrown over the back of one of the kitchen chairs, cardigan pulled from your body and tossed on the bed by the time you made it to your bedroom. It doesn’t take long to strip the rest away and to gather a set of pajamas from your well organized drawer before darting across the hall to the shared bathroom.

You know you have at minimum 45 minutes to be done, an hour if he goes to the better Chinese place a little further across town, which he most likely would. You’d been dreaming of ending your week with a bubble bath, but you don’t take the chance now, just hop under the hot spray of the shower, hoping it will have the same relaxing effect. Your eyes are closed as you tilt your head back to wet your hair while one hand fumbles over the bottles to find your shampoo. 

Eyes still closed, you tip the bottle to add a bit to your hand, but you freeze when you open your eyes temporarily to close the bottle and put it back on the shelf. It’s Harry’s shampoo you’ve grabbed instead and for a moment you don’t know what to do. You don’t know how many times you’ve teased him about how expensive his products are. But he would never let you hear the end of it if he came home and you smelled like him. Ultimately you would’ve felt too guilty to waste it, so you work it through and hope he never finds out. Pray that the act washes away just like the suds do when you rinse them from your hair. 

By your hopeful calculations, you still have about 10 minutes left before he arrives by the time you're done in the shower. You decide to give him a fair advantage, venturing into the kitchen to decide which bottle of wine would pair best with dinner. When you make your selection, you pour yourself a glass, settling into a comfy spot on the couch. The black remote taunts you from the small wooden coffee, and you grab it. No harm in getting the movie ready while you wait, right?

You’re 2 glasses deep and 20 minutes into the movie when he arrives, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. Your eyes go wide when you see him. You’re not sure why, there had been many nights he’d found you in the same position, but tonight feels different. You gulp down the sip of wine, too tipsy and unaware that you’re staring. Had his dimples always been that prominent when he smiled? Even without your glasses you could spot that grin that stretched a mile wide across his face.

“Haroldddd..you’re home!”

He hated that nickname, had always despised when other people called him that, but falling from your lips it sounds like a prayer and he would gladly change his name to that if he thought it would make you the least bit happy.

“S’pose I lost, huh? Got the food pretty quickly but stopped to get this,” He holds up a bottle of wine, ironically the very same kind that you’re drinking now, “Shoulda known y’would already have some!”

“Oh good, you got some for yourself..this one’s almost empty..”

“M’not that late, am I?” He chuckles as he makes his way to the counter, looking between you and the bottle.

“Hey..it’s a small bottle! This is only my third glass and I’ve barely even touched it.”

“Rough day?” He’s pulling plates down now and retrieving a glass for himself from the cabinet.

“Rough week. Rough few weeks, really.” You take a few more sips as you watch him prepare a plate of food. You figure he’s just making his own, and you wait patiently for him to finish so you won’t be in the way. But when he makes his way around the counter, he’s holding two plates in his hand and wow you want to jump from your spot and kiss him. You restrain yourself, as hard as it may be, and try to focus on the question he’s asking you.

He holds the plates towards the table and then towards where you sit on the couch, silently wanting to know where you’d prefer to enjoy your meal. You pat the spot next to you, inviting him to move closer, knowing how much effort it would take to lift yourself from your warm, comfy spot to go eat at the table.

“Emily still on vacation?” 

“Yes! And she expects us to do double the work while she’s gone! It’s her 3rd vacation this year. I know she’s the boss but..”

“Doesn’t mean she has to be a bitch to you.” He finishes your sentence for you, brow furrowed, upset at even the idea of someone mistreating you in the slightest. 

“Right! Thank you!” 

You hold your hand out to accept the plate he’s made for you, “Got our usual, hope that’s alright.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. I was just joking earlier about you paying for all of it. I’ll pay you back for my half.”

He’s already shaking his head no, stuffing a bite of food in his mouth, “It was my turn anyway, r‘member? You paid for those tacos we had last week.”

“Right, I did. Forgot about that.”

You watch him devour a few more bites, your eyes darting from your plate to his, “Yours looks better.”

“Huh?”

Maybe it’s the wine making you more bold, you’d normally never complain, “Your plate it just..looks better than mine. Switch with me.”

“It’s literally the same thing..and I’ve already eaten half the noodles off mine.” He looks mildly annoyed at even the suggestion.

“Don’t care..it looks better. Switch.” You realized just how bratty you sound, so you add a quick, “Please?”

He huffs dramatically, switching the plates and giving you a sarcastic smile, “Happy?”

You return his smile, blissfully unaware of his annoyance in your tipsy state, “Very, thank you.”

You both turn your attention to the tv you realize now you had forgotten to pause, so the movie had progressed further, about 30 minutes in now.

His irritation has already faded when he asks, “What are y’making me watch?”

You start to explain the plot but stop mid-bite of your food, “Wait..have you never seen this movie?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t look familiar.”

“Oh we’re definitely starting it over then!” 

“No, ya don’t hafta..”

It’s too late, you’ve already discarded your now mostly empty plate of food, nearly knocking your glass of wine over in your excitement of making him watch one of your favorite movies.

Almost an hour in, you don’t notice that Harry’s eyes have drifted to you. In fact, they’d mostly stayed on you since you’d restarted the movie. Your facial expressions were better to him than any movie; the way your eyes softened at the more heartwarming parts, or when your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ and gasped at parts he was certain you had probably seen at least a dozen times before.

You clasp your hand over your heart dramatically and he doesn’t even flinch, just listens intently when you say, “I love this part..this is the moment.”

His eyes temporarily flash back to the tv then, “The moment?”

“Yeah, you know, the moment. Where the guy looks at the girl and realizes he’s in love.” You sigh deeply, “I always wanted someone to look at me like that.”

Oh, you mean like what’s happening now between us? God he hopes for just a glance from you, a chance to show you that you’re living your own moment now if you’d just look at him. 

It’s tumbling out of his mouth quicker than he can stop it, his mouth working faster than his brain, but it’s a low enough whisper he thinks maybe you won’t hear.

“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”

You do hear him, though you don’t believe it at first. Your hand is still resting over your heart, searching his face for any sign of teasing or dishonesty.

“H..did you just..?”

He’s looking down at his hands, fingers fiddling with one of the rings adorning his fingers, nodding before replying, “I did.” 

“How long?”

“Um..since the first week we’ve lived together? That first night we made dinner together and it was a disaster. Thought you were gonna catch the place on fire.” A giggle escapes him at the memory of you, rushing around the kitchen that night, face flushed red and hair a mess.

“That’s my moment? Almost burning our apartment down?”

“That and now, yeah. Just been strugglin’ with the best way to tell you. S’pose the wine’s making me a lil’ more fearless,'' He takes a deep breath, still not able to look at you in case he finds even a hint of rejection on your face, “But I understand if you don’t feel the same..”

“I do.”

His head snaps to look at you then, eyes widening for a second before he composes himself, “Really?”

You can’t stop the smile that blooms across your face at the sight of the thrill in his eyes. There’s a new buzz of elation in the air, but neither of you make a move at first. A pleasant tension fills the space between the two of you.

You break the silence, “So..what do we do now?”

“S’all up to you how fast and how far we take this. M’all in though, ready when you are, love. A cuddle might be nice while we finish the movie, if you’re up f’that.”

“I think I could handle that. I want something else first though.”

He’s trying to read your mind, thinks he knows exactly what it is, but he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear the words he’s been waiting to hear for what feels like a lifetime now.

“Kiss me, Harry.”

You’ve already turned your body towards him; the movie, the food and the wine all long forgotten. He clears the space between the two of you easily, a hand on the side of your neck to add just enough pressure to pull you towards him.

Your lips crash against his, noses bumping at first but it doesn’t stop you, it only makes you crave him deeper and closer. You press your knees into his thighs, pushing yourself up so that you hover over him, your hair falling around his face. It’s still slightly damp from the shower, and his hand comes to rest on the back of your head now. 

There’s a smug look on his face when he pulls away, a hand still placed on your hip to hold you steady. He’s still breathless when he asks, “Did you use my shampoo?”

When you wake up in his bed the next morning, you question if last night was a mistake. You don’t regret it, not for a second, just wonder if maybe things will be different in the morning light. 

So when you barely touch the plate of eggs and toast he’s made for you for breakfast, he worries you’re having second thoughts about him, that he’s ruined any friendship you’ve already built by rushing into a relationship. 

So when you say, “Did you really mean what you said last night..about loving me?” He visibly relaxes, dropping his shoulders and beaming at you from across his own breakfast plate.

“Oh, darlin’,” He plucks a piece of uneaten toast from your plate, winking at you as he does, “You don’t know the half of it.” 

[localcultivator]

K k so prompt mari is already in a relationship with Damian shes happy hes happy its adorable but dun dun dun Adrien finds out she's ladybug and tries to win her over it doesn't work but most of the class are rooting for him. Chloe is not she thinks he should respect that Marinette is happy with someone else and move on

Oh dear sweet anon, i have returned from war and I bring you this one shot, FINALLY FINISHED. it’s long, sorry. but pls enjoy. 

Marinette wanted to believe that today was going to be a good day. 

She had woken up early and was able to eat a full breakfast with her family, she was able to enjoy her walk to school and Damian was about to start his year abroad in Paris living with her family and going to school with her. 

Marinette had made plans to pick Damian up from the airport the next day, so she was walking on air. 

And then she got to school. 

Things had been... strained since Adrien and Marinette had revealed their identities to each other. Hawkmoth had been defeated and as the guardian, Marinette felt like it was time for her to know just exactly who her partner was. 

Finding out that it was Adrien seemed great at first! Someone she was already close to outside of the mask was also her partner in justice and had helped her save Paris many times. 

It only took Adrien 2 minutes to show Marinette that he didn’t feel the same as her. 

“My Lady! We can finally be together! Now that I know that My Lady is Marinette, I’m gonna sweep you off your feet! You’ll see, we were meant to be together. “

Marinette had tried to explain to Adrien multiple times that she wasn’t interested in him and that she was in a loving committed relationship with her boyfriend of 6 months, Damian, but Adrien wouldn’t take no for an answer. 

Marinette was hoping that with Damian transferring in, Adrien would finally get the hint that Marinette wasn’t interested. 

She arrived at her classroom, noticing that strangely the class seemed mostly full, like everyone had tried to get there early that day. It was... unsettling. 

As she walked to her seat, she noticed the bouquet of flowers, both of them. 

The first was kind of tacky, a dozen red roses with a big sparkly pink ribbon around them. It seemed to have shed glitter all over her desk and Marinette sighed to herself, thinking about the tedious cleanup she would have to endure from such a messy ribbon. 

The second however, was beautiful. An arrangement of white lilies, daisies and Marinette’s favorite flower, yellow marguerites. Sometimes known as Paris Daisies, Marinette had fallen in love with the simple beauty of the flowers. Only one person knew that these flowers meant to her, and that same person also knew Marinette had a small love for the language of flowers. 

White Lilies for My Love is Pure. 

Daisies for I Love You Truly

Yellow Marguerites for I Come Soon. 

She picked up the simple bouquet and smelled them, enjoying the soft scents and smiled to herself. Marinette looked around for Damian’s standard note but couldn’t find one, only seeing the note attached to the glitter bomb mess the other arrangement was. 

“Hey Girl, did you see the flowers Adrien got you? He must really like you to have gotten you roses!” Alya said, sliding up to Marinette who had yet to acknowledge the other flowers on her desk.  

“Alya, I’ve told you, I’m only interested in one guy, and it’s the guy that got me these flowers, knowing to even include my favorite in the arrangement. Those roses are beautiful, but you know I hate glitter, and pink isn’t even my favorite color. It’s green, has been for a while.” Marinette chimed back, picking up the roses finally to get them off her desk. The glitter shimmered in the light, leaving an even dusting on the note the flowers were on top of. 

Marinette wasted no time in disposing the flowers, not paying attention to the note, nor her classes reaction to her throwing the flowers away

She started to begin the laborious process of cleaning her desk off when Ms. Bustier came in, drawing the class's attention. 

“Class, Today we will be welcoming an exchange student from America. He will be with us for the next year to learn French culture and to learn alongside us! Please welcome in Damian Wayne from Gotham'' 

A boy entered the room, tall and handsome. He had dark hair, almost black and tan skin. His eyes were green, not unlike Adrien’s, however his held an air of mystery and a look of mischief. 

No one noticed Marinette freezing, stopping the cleaning of her desk at the announcement of the new student, but everyone noticed her practically flying out of her desk to hug him. 

“Damian! You said you weren’t coming until tomorrow! What are you doing here? You didn’t even tell me you were going to be coming. Were you the one to leave flowers on my desk?” Marinette rattled off her questions, still in the boy’s arms. 

Her words were a mix of french and english, only a few people getting the full scope of what Marinette was saying to Damian. Chloe, who knew english due to her mother, Alya who had learned english reading articles by Lois Lane and Clark Kent, and Adrien who knew it for business.  

“Angel, slow down, you’re speaking in both languages again. I wanted to surprise you so your parents and I planned for me to arrive this morning instead of tomorrow night. I did leave the bouquet, did you get the note with them? It was supposed to tell you to meet me at the Principal’s office, but I assume you were late again?” Damian looked at Marinette like she hung the moon, and more than a few of their classmates were wondering just who this boy was. And why was he calling Marinette Angel? 

“Ya Amar, I didn’t get a note with my flowers this time. What do you mean you left a note?” 

Adrien took this moment to ask the question on everyone’s mind, “My Lady, who is this guy, and why is he calling you Angel?” 

Marinette turned away from Damian, fully pulling out of his embrace. “This is Damian, my boyfriend. We’ve been dating for 8 months, so I’d hope he would have some cute nickname for me. I told you guys multiple times about him, but all of you never seemed to believe me. Damian started to get frustrated at your advances Adrien, so he’s decided to spend a year abroad here!” 

To say that the class was in shock was saying it lightly. Many of the students had just assumed that this boyfriend of hers was to make Adrien jealous. The only ones who had seemed to believe her were Chloe, Juleka and Luka. All three had met Damian previously to this, whether in person like Chloe or over a video call like the Couffaines. Alya’s face turned bright red while Adrien had gone pale, like he’d seen a ghost. 

“Ugh this is ridiculous. I can’t believe none of you believed Mari when she said she had a boyfriend! Anyway, Wayne, you better treat Mari right while you’re here or I’m calling Jon.” Chloe exclaimed to the class, wanting everyone to stop staring at her friend like some kind of freakshow. 

Damian just nodded his head in acknowledgment and started to pull Mari towards her desk. He noticed the glitter still on the desk and his eyes narrowed. “ Angel, do you need help cleaning off all of this glitter? It seems quite excessive.” His tone was cold, even as he had a gentle smile on his face directed at Marinette. 

“I hope that people in this class will be respectful of My and Marinette’s relationship. I’m quite committed to her, and would be happy to prove that to anyone who doubts my feelings for her, or hers for me.” 

The tension in the classroom was almost visible, some students with looks of shame and shock, other’s with small pleased smiles. The only one who hadn’t seemed to react yet was Adrien, still stuck in his shock over his lady actually being in a relationship. He finally seemed to acknowledge the world around him with Damian’s words but you could see the light in his eyes had dimmed significantly. 

Damian looked pleased, and as he helped Marinette clean off her desk for the day, he had a feeling no one would doubt his angel any more. 

[98prilla]

I Won’t Say I’m in Love

I had an idea at 2am that Janus sarcastically asks Roman to marry him during arguments, but each time he asks he means it a little more until he realizes he’s completely in love with Roman, until he can’t stand the rejection anymore and runs away because Roman would never believe him if he admitted his feelings, only for Roman to come after him and propose instead. 

This isn’t quite that, though it is in a similar vein. I started with that idea and it evolved into this. That being said, if anyone wants to take the original idea and run with it, feel free, just remember to tag me!

AO3

...

         The first time he asks, he doesn’t mean it in the slightest. They’re in the middle of an argument, him and Logan against Roman and Patton, Virgil staying out of it, either because he didn’t have an opinion or he didn’t want to get involved.

           “Roman, you’re absolutely charming right now. Won’t you marry me already?” He snaps, breath hissing in and out, and everyone freezes at his comment. Roman’s face has gone red, from anger or embarrassment, he can’t tell, but the longer the silence goes on, the more he feels his own shame at his words burning at his throat. “sorry. That was… out of line.” He mumbles, adjusting his capelet.

           “I apologize, also. You are correct, I have not been my most… chivalrous, this afternoon. Perhaps… perhaps we should all take a break, to calm down. Then we can work out a… compromise?” Roman says, face flushing redder at the question in his voice. The moment is broken by Virgil slow clapping from the stairs.

           “Wooow, both of you apologized and Princey suggested a compromise? It’s a miracle!”

           “Yes, thank you, Virgil. Your sarcasm had been duly noted, and disregarded. Now. Don’t come get me when we’re ready to start over.” He comments, popping back to his room before anyone else has time to comment.

…

         The second time, he’s had a bad day. He feels heavy and disjointed, not all there, not all focused. He doesn’t know what’s wrong, he just knows he didn’t sleep well and he can’t seem to get comfortable, so he forces himself out of bed and down the stairs, dragging his blanket behind him, before collapsing on the couch. It’s almost 1pm, far later than his usual first appearance in the commons since the whole wedding debacle, since he was accepted, truly, since he was welcomed.

           He doesn’t remember drifting off, but he shoots awake as he feels a hand on his shoulder, letting out a small groan, having flung his arm over his eyes at some point.

           “What on earth could possibly be important enough to disturb me for, Roman?” he asks, wincing at the pounding that has started near his temple.

           “Are you okay?” He snorts at the question, rolling his eyes as he halfheartedly glares at Roman.

           “Just peachy.” He snarks, and Roman backs away, hands in the air. He can feel Roman’s eyes on him as he left the room, and sinks deeper into the couch. He’s surprised when a moment later, Roman returns from the kitchen, sitting down next to him.

           “Alright. Here you go.” He looks down at the table, a bit confused.

           “What… is this?” Roman looks at him, lip quirked up in a half smile.

           “Well that, is a glass of water. And that is something for the headache you’ve got cooking in your noggin. And those are crackers, since you have not eaten anything all day.” He looks slowly up at Roman, eyes narrowed.

           “I am not sick.” Roman’s eyebrow raises.

           “I did not say that. You, however, just did.” He groans, sinking even further into the blanket, so his eyes are just barely visible.

           “I do not get sick.” He mumbles.

           “Of course not, bananaconda. Now take the medicine.” He sighs, but complies, drinking the rest of the water and nibbling at some crackers as well. He barely notices Roman getting up, coming back a moment later with a Gatorade, and dimming the lights. He breathes a sigh of relief as some of the pain dissipates.

           “God, I could marry you right now.” He mumbles, finding the Gatorade is cold, and he lets Roman rest a cold rag on his forehead.  

           “I think the fever’s getting to your head, Jan.” He doesn’t reply, just hums and closes his eyes, trying to squash down the warm, fuzzy feeling starting to grow in his chest.

…      

         The third time he doesn’t say it. He’s in his room, relaxing in his plush desk chair. He’d been doing a color by number, choosing whatever color he wanted for each number instead of going by the recommended color chart.

           He hears a knock on his door, and gets up, confused when he sees no one there. Then he looks down, and sees a small gift basket, wrapped in a red ribbon with a small card printed with Roman’s logo. He rolls his eyes, and brings it inside, smiling as he unpacks it.

           There’s a collection of lotions, each of which smells deep and heady, just the kind of scent he loves. There’s also a few moisturizing oils, for his scales, which he’s a bit grateful for, he can tell his shed is about to start and making his own was a bit of a hassle. He laughs at the small snake plushie, but drapes it across his bed’s headboard anyway, smiling fondly as he leans against the bed for a moment, before his eyes widen and he nearly slaps himself.

           No. no no no, he cannot do this, he cannot do this to himself, he will not be so stupidly naïve.

           He is not in love with Roman.

…

         The rest come in small moments of delight, of happiness, moments where he forgets to deny himself what he cannot have, when he cannot squash the fondness inside of him, when he forgets to push down the silent, useless emotion he refuses to give credence to.

Playing Mario Kart, and he exploits every loophole and shortcut, strategically laying bananas, somehow always avoiding the blue shell when he is in first, slowing down enough someone passes him and gets hit instead, Roman cursing his skill, every time demanding another round, both of them grinning and sweating by the end of their tournament.

…      

Roman gets up early one morning, makes breakfast. When he comes into the kitchen, Roman slides a plate of waffles, covered in homemade whipped cream and chocolate shavings in front of him, along with a coffee filled with the perfect amount of froth, a heart patterned on it. His own nearly stops, breathless.

            “Morning sleepy serpent.” He mumbles something, heart stopping at how beautiful Roman looks, still in his pajamas, hair sleep mussed, but eyes bright, light from the window shining onto him as he turns back to the stove, flipping pancakes, humming, then singing, belting out showtunes. He catches himself almost sighing at how sweet Roman’s voice is, before he snaps out of his trance, just barely getting his emotions under control as Patton comes barreling down the stairs, summoned by Disney and the smell of pancakes.

…

         It’s a late night, they’ve had a movie marathon and the others all turned in hours ago, giving up one by one, Virgil the latest to leave. He is debating the morals of Disney characters, tearing apart the heroes and defending the villains.

           “How was he to know that toys are alive? He was using his creativity, to combine and make new, original, toys! If he hadn’t been traumatized by Woodie and Co, maybe he would have ended up an engineer instead of a garbage man.”

           “Ugh, fine! You have me on that one. It’s technically Pixar, anyway.” Roman mutters, and he laughs. “Since you concede there, I’ll give you Scar.” Roman looks at him, eyebrows raised in confusion.

           “Seriously? I figured you’d defend him to the death.” He shrugs, yawning.

           “Mostly due to the cut song where he tries to… let’s generously call it ‘woo’, Nala, which is why she leaves to find help in the first place. Plus, he never really wanted change or peace, he just framed his alliance with the hyenas in that manner to gain control. Besides, everyone knows it’s better to be loved than feared. If you really want complete control, make every choice seem like their own, make every action seem benign or like a favor. Get what you want by making it seem like what the people want.” Roman is staring at him, agape, and he flushes.

 He winces, because of course he ruined this, they were having a moment, and he ruined it. “… I’ll give you Ursula, if we’re counting cut scenes. She was technically overthrown and banished by Triton, though she did nothing wrong. Her vengeance is a bit extreme, but she at least had good reason for it, and really only wanted what was always supposed to be hers.” Roman answers after a moment, and he nearly sighs in relief, though he gets the feeling they were both talking about more than just Disney villains.

           He’s absolutely mortified, and not at all the least bit pleased when he’s awoken the next morning by Virgil, smiling smugly at him, having fell asleep, head resting on Roman’s chest, Roman’s arm around his shoulder, a blanket pulled up over the two of them. He certainly strives to make sure it never happens again.

…

He's a mess. A miserable, stupid, mess. He can't stop thinking of Roman, can’t stop striving for his smiles, the soft, fond one he receives in moments of quiet, the bright, mischievous one that brings out his dimples, the small, confused one when he didn’t understand why he was pulling away. His laugh, loud and ringing, the nicknames bestowed upon him at every chance, the small, subtle touches that sent his heart racing and his mind into overdrive and he was burning, aching, from want.

 The desire to run his fingers through Roman's hair, to feel his hands around his waist, to kiss him until they were both silly from it, to say every sweet word and guileless truth about how absolutely perfectly stunning Roman is, to defend him and his ideas, to protect him from his own self doubts and negative thinking, to repair every crack he himself had made in Roman's armor, to apologize a thousand times until the side knew he absolutely truly meant every word of flattery he had ever said.

 He hisses at a knock on his door, drawing back into the shadows. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone, he doesn’t want to see anyone, he just wants to wallow in his misery until this wrenching heartbreak goes away and leaves him alone! It’s no use, wanting something he can’t have. He won’t lie to himself and say otherwise.

 “Kiddo? You okay?” Patton, who can probably feel his emotional distress from miles away.

 “I'm fine.” He forces out, wrangling his voice into some sense of normalcy, wincing at the acrid lie on his tongue. He can feel Patton's hesitation, but the fatherly figure sighs.

 “Alright. But Jan? If you decide that you’re not fine, you know I’m here for you.” Then Patton walks away, and he’s only mildly surprised to feel wetness dripping down his cheeks.

 “I’m fine.” He whispers, curling in on himself, choking on tears. “I’m perfectly fine.”

…

Day three is when it all falls apart. He hasn’t left his room, he hasn’t moved much from his curled up spot on the floor, and it hurts why does it still hurt?

 He thought if he just stayed away, if he put distance between himself and Roman, if… if he detoxed it would go away, these pesky, useless feelings would go away!

 But they haven’t. They’re still pounding away with every beat of his heart, and he’s half convinced it would be better to just rip the stupid thing out than let it make such a fool of him.

 He knows limits. He understands them, he knows how far he can push the others before they start to break, he knows how much to push to make them give, he knows how far he can push before things start well and truly crumbling to ruin, and he knows, better than any of the others, his own limits.

 He knows what he can and cannot have, he knows how to be selfish without taking too much, and he knows this is something he cannot take, something he will never be given. He’s still the serpent, after all, still the liar, still the deceiver, still the snake in the grass, waiting to strike. He’s said I love you a thousand times to Roman, meant it more and more with each iteration, but he knows he doesn’t deserve to be loved. Not by Roman, whom he had broken so badly not so long ago, accidently, yes, and he had apologized, but still. He’d known how fragile the ego was, how tightly he was clinging to the final thread, and he’d still cut the strand without a second thought. He’s not to be trusted, least of all by himself, even his own heart has turned against him.

 “Janus? Can I come in?” He freezes at that voice, it makes his stomach sink and his pulse race and he feels a strange sense of vertigo.

 “No.” He says, as deadpan as possible, as much emphasis as he can, and he can almost see the frown on Roman’s face.

 “You haven’t been out in three days. Are you sick again?”

 “I’m fine, Roman, go bother someone else!” He spits out, anger creeping into his voice, because Roman is the source of this festering wound, even if he doesn’t know it. If he’s angry, he won’t be sad, angry he can do, angry he can fake as well as anyone.

 “no you’re not. I’m coming in.” He curses, lunging to his feet, but the door is already open before he has even a hope of locking it, and he and Roman stare at each other for a silent moment, before he looks away, biting his tongue. “Jesus, Jan. What happened to you?” He winces, knowing he must look a mess, knowing his hair is tangled and wild from running his hands through it so often, his face is a mess of dried tears and dark bags, his clothes are rumpled and wrinkled and his normally immaculate room is a bit dusty.

 “Nothing. Now go away.” He demands, turning to stalk to his desk. He feels a hand on his shoulder, warmth blooms down his arm, and he inhales sharply, turning and actually slapping Roman as he stumbles back, barely aware of the tears streaming down his eyes, because this is so goddamn hard. “Don’t. Don’t touch me, Roman.” He spits, venom in his voice, eyes sharp and fangs sharper. He hates this, hates playing this part again, but he needs Roman to leave.  

 “ok. I’m sorry, I should have asked.” He chokes on his bitter laughter because damn it, Roman is the perfect gentleman, isn’t he? He’s stepped back, hands raised in the air, the only thing on his face concern, not anger, or fear, or pain at the handprint still red across his cheek. “please, Janus. I know you’re hurting. I just want to know why, I just want to help.” He laughs this time, a wild, harsh sound.

 “That’s cute, Roman, but this isn’t one of your fairy tale quests where you rescue a damsel in distress. This is real life, with real problems, and maybe, for once, you should let it get through your thick skull that this ISN’T ONE YOU CAN FIX!” He screams, letting his words be cold, letting them be cruel, as he crumples to the floor, heaving, gasping in air through the shaking sobs squeezing tight his chest. “you can’t fix me.” He whispers, not caring if Roman hears, because what’s the point? He’s a pathetic, mewling lump, and surely after that display Roman will leave, warned off by his extremeness.

 “Janus.” He flinches at his name, whispered so softly, so gently, almost holding the thing he wishes more than anything his name would contain, coming from Roman’s lips, but that hope is a lie, a deceitful, monstrous lie, just like the rest of him. “why do you think you’re broken?” He doesn’t answer. He won’t answer, he won’t say it aloud, not now, not when Roman will see how much he actually means it. He squeezes his hands into fists, forcing his chin up, forcing himself to glare at Roman.

 “You should leave. Before I answer that question honestly.” He bares his fangs in a snarl, gold covering his pupils, racing throughout the room, lighting it up with a thousand pretty little lies that echo in Roman’s ears, telling him exactly how worthless and useless and pathetic he is, and he hisses for good measure, standing and sauntering over to Roman, leering at him.

 “I’m the dragon guarding the tower, I’m the hydra fighting Hercules, I’m the snake here to lead you astray, I’m the villain, I’m the bad guy, I stand against everything you’ve ever believed in, little prince. You’d be so easy to dispose of. Then who could stop me, hmmm? No one. I could kill you right where you stand, and no one would ever know a thing, my greatest performance would be replacing you. Or do you forget what I am, Roman, what I well and truly am?” He stands back, fangs sharp as he grins, letting out a dark, sinister laugh, one that reverberates off the walls, and something is breaking inside him, something is cracking and crumbling and he hates himself, hates every moment, but if Roman hates him, too, then he’ll just go.

 “Janus.” Roman says again, so soft, and his grin falters, his mask slips for a moment before he rights it, scowling as Roman steps forwards, undaunted, something strange in his eyes, something soft and worried. “you don’t have to do this.” He stumbles back at Roman’s words, shaking his head.

 “stop.”

 “I know you’re afraid. That’s why you’re doing this, you’re scared, and that’s ok.” He’s shaking his head, eyes squeezed shut, trying to push back the tears.

 “Stop.”

 “I know you don’t mean it, Jan. And I won’t run away just because of a few threats. I want to help you, I want to be there, I want you to trust me enough to tell me what is hurting you so terribly… please.” He feels Roman’s hand on his, and he jerks back, hitting the wall, eyes snapping open, breath coming in short gasps, and he wraps his arms around himself, shaking.

 “STOP IT!” He shouts, voice breaking into a million pieces, and the gold vanishes, his façade crumbling, only raw emotion left in his voice. “Stop caring, stop asking to help, stop acting like you’re my friend, stop being kind, stop being so fucking nice to me, stop getting inside my head, stop making me feel happy being near you, stop sending butterflies winging through my stomach, stop making me smile, stop making me laugh, stop being so fucking incredible that I can’t help but love you!” He screams, jabbing his finger into Roman’s chest with every word, tears falling down his face as he finally says it, all the fight draining out of him as he collapses, empty, caught by Roman, who lowers them both gently to the floor.

 He doesn’t have the will to pull away from Roman’s all encompassing embrace. He doesn’t have the strength left to silence the tears, to force Roman out, to go back to being alone.

 Shame curdles in his stomach as he breathes in Roman’s scent, lilacs and sweet summer breezes, as he melts against Roman’s chest, as his hands fist the fabric of Roman’s shirt and he sobs, hopelessly sobs, because this is an empty victory. Once he manages to pull away, he’ll see the pity and disgust on Roman’s face, and this, this will be well and truly over.

 “I’m s-orry. I’m so, s-so s-sorry, I didn’t mean f-for this to happen, I h-hoped it would just go away but they won’t, and I’m s-sorry…” he gasps, shaking, exhaustion cresting over him, and despite himself the ache is being soothed, because Roman is holding him, and then he just feels sick at his own selfish want.

 “Oh, my little mocking jay, why didn’t you just say something?” He laughs at that, throat raw and scratched.

 “because then you’d know. And it would all be over, anyway. You don’t love me, you could never love me, I’m not nearly good enough for you, I’m not good at all, really. I’m not… I’m not what you want, Roman. I can never be what you want me to be. And I just… I just keep hurting you.” He whispers, heart shattering a little more as Roman pulls back, and he closes his eyes, taking a huge breath in, trying to control the crushing, plunging depths of his despair.

 “Janus. Who says you aren’t already exactly what I want?” His breath catches at Roman’s words, at the tenderness they hold, at the painful hope blooming in his chest. He trembles as he feels Roman rest a hand on his scaled cheek, gently stroking the scales with his thumb.

 “don’t lie to me, Roman. Please, I can’t… it already hurts so much, I can’t listen to you lie to me.”

 “Does it feel like I’m lying, dearest?” It doesn’t. It really doesn’t. Slowly, he opens his eyes, meeting Roman’s worried, soft… loving… gaze. “I love you, Janus. You’re funny, and smart, and I love your sarcasm, your half awake morning bedhead, how you gesture when you’re passionate, how all your emotion lives in your eyes.” Roman murmurs, a small, warm smile on his lips as he moves his hand, stroking back a stray piece of hair. “I love you for so many miniscule reasons it would take me a thousand thousand years to list them all. I would have told you sooner, darling, but I didn’t want to pressure you, not while you were still settling in.”

 “Roman…” he says weakly, he’s so flat out tired, so worn down and hollow and empty that he doesn’t even know what to say, what to feel, except this warming in his chest slowly spreading to the rest of him, making him feel lighter than he had in ages.

 “come here, dearest.” Roman says, and he can’t help but collapse into Roman’s lap, letting the creative side pull him close, pressing his head against Roman’s chest, more tears slipping out as he feels Roman gently stroking his back, cradling his head, murmuring soft assurances and words of gentle warmth, and repeated, wonderful, ‘I love you’s’ that ring true every time, and all he can do is keep clinging to Roman, praying he doesn’t wake up from this dream.

 Then Roman tilts his chin up, his pulse jumping at the touch, then Roman’s lips are on his and he melts at the explosion of warmth and color and light sparking in his mind, and he’s pressing forwards, desperate, and Roman is soft and warm and perfect and it’s everything, it’s everything he’s wanted for so, so long now.

 When they finally break apart, he’s breathless and flushed and the broken emptiness is almost gone, almost fully replaced with hope and love and light, and he laughs as Roman sweeps him off his feet, holding him bridal style as he showers his face in small kisses, each one making him flush redder and redder, until he yawns, despite himself.

 “Oh, I’m sorry, are my affections boring you, pretty little liar?” Roman teases, and he grins, nuzzling against Roman’s chest, letting out a soft breath that seems to untie the last lingering knot in his chest.

 “Obviously. What a trial.” He mumbles, feeling Roman stroking his hair again, realizing his eyes have slipped closed.

 “When did you last sleep, mi amor?” He shrugs, he doesn’t know, honestly, and now that Roman is holding him, it’s the only thing his body wants, it takes everything in him not to just fall asleep now. “alright. Let’s get you to bed then. We can talk more in the morning.”  

 “stay. Please.” He asks, nearly begs, eyes flying wide with sudden fear, suddenly sure that if Roman walks out the door, he’ll wake to find he was dreaming, because there’s no way this is real, no way Roman loves him.

 “of course, little hisser. I wouldn’t dream of leaving my beloved alone and unprotected from any foul nightmares that may come his way.” Roman soothes, sliding into bed with him still in his arms, immediately spooning gently around him, and he shifts closer, closing the little space there was left between them, until their legs are entangled and his forehead is resting in the crook of Roman’s shoulder, and Roman’s arms are around him, and he’s still holding tight to Roman’s shirt, feeling him exhale against his cheek.

 “I love you, lovely. Now get some rest.” And finally, he does.

[minniepetals]

Can you write a protective bangtan mafia Drabble?🥺✨ I saw your post asking for someone to send in an ask for it ASAP so here it is! 🌱🦕

(thank you!!)

— part 6 / more here

The people who'll walk into the boys' mansion knows your face.

Not because you're their bosses' new lover but because you work for them as a maid, and you're a face that has been working as a maid for the longest time, never quitting or has gotten fired yet. Though right now you don't necessarily work anymore (because your boys aren't allowing you to dirty your hands anymore) but they have yet to know.

So when you accidentally walk into a meeting and quickly apologize before you can leave, one of their guys calls you a harsh nickname he's once always called you, causing you to freeze up on spot.

You don't freeze because of the name but because you know what that will indicate.

But he doesn't get it, of course he doesn't, because it was once kind of welcomed as the bosses had never said anything before. But that was when they weren't exactly too fond of your pure aura. So he continues giving you insults that makes your eyes fall to the floor with a hand coming up to rub against your upper arm as a way to comfort yourself.

When you bravely look up and meet Jungkook's eyes who doesn't go blind when he sees those familiar tears glistening under the light, he's quick to kick the man off his chair which looks like it hurts profoundly.

You cringe and look away.

"What the hell did you just say?"

"A whore? A slut?"

"She's a worthless little wench who should know her place?"

An airy laugh falls from Yoongi's lips and Jimin comes to take your hand. "Come on," he tells you, "you wouldn't like to see this."

The door closes with Namjoon, Jungkook, and Yoongi inside while the rest checks up on you.

"Baby?" Taehyung calls with worry and when you refuse to look up at him, he lets out a soft sigh. "Please don't listen to him."

"You used to let him say those things, you know."

"I know, I know, and that was wrong," Hoseok admits, "that was so wrong of us."

"Am I really-"

"No of course not." When Seokjin picks you up and begin to lead you towards the bedroom, you're shedding tears against his chest and their hearts break. "Oh baby, you are so much more than what they think and we're so sorry we've made you think otherwise."

"You were jerks," you sniffed.

"Yeah," Taehyung hums.

"But you're changing so," you wrap your arms around Seokjin's neck when he sits on the bed and has you on his lap, "so I don't care anymore. But...they still..they still-"

"We'll take care of them, baby," Jimin vows. "No one will ever be degrading you ever again."

"They sure won't."

When you hear Namjoon's voice who walks in with the other two, Seokjin lets you get off him and scurry along over towards the big boss who swoops you up the second you're in his reach.

"It's okay, baby, he won't be able to hurt you anymore." You know what they implies but right now all you care about is needing them close so you wrap your arms around him like a koala, face resting into the crook of his neck.

"You're our little princess, you know, more beautiful than anyone on this planet alone."

"Liar," you pout at Yoongi's words so he frowns.

"I'm not lying."

"You only say that because you love me," you say as Namjoon settles you down onto the bed.

"Well it's true that we love you," Jungkook nods when he crawls to your other side, "but you know hyung wouldn't just say that so easily." He snakes an arm around your waist and pulls you close in so that he can press a kiss to your temple.

"You've said plenty of lies before," you point out.

"Right," he sighs and tilts your head to capture your lips against his own. "But loving you will never be a lie."

You flush when he leans away but can't think too straight before Namjoon's turning your head and giving you his own kiss.

"Um...h-hold on..!"

"No one is allowed to talk to you ever again or else I'll cut their tongues."

"That..sounds a little cruel."

"Cruel?" Taehyung laughs. "What he said to you was worse."

"I'll poke their eyes off with my own hands if they can't see your worth."

"Jimin, that-"

"And feed them to the sharks."

You make a face. "Mm..I'd like to have a stomach before dinner please."

"Fine, we won't tell you what we'll do to those idiots who dares to disrespect you but just know," Hoseok gives you a pointed look as he crawls up to you and possessively holds you in his arms, "they won't get away with any of it, got it?"

When he plants a kiss to your lips, you gift him a soft smile. "Thank you," you whisper.

But Hoseok frowns. "You should be punching us instead, you know."

"For what?"

"For all the things we've said to you."

"But I forgive you."

"We don't."

You sigh at them all. "I told you, didn't I? Having you right now is enough. More than enough."

Jungkook pouts as Hoseok shares you with him. "You're too good for us, you know."

"No," you laugh, "I think I'm just perfect."

They smile.

"Perfect indeed."

[jihyuncompass]

Hello, Stranger

Day Five! This week is going by SO fast. This is a strange AU idea I’ve had for a while, and well when I saw the prompt, I couldn’t help myself. I hope you enjoy! 

Jihyun Week 2020 Day Five ( @mysme-events​ )

Rain

Jihyun Kim x MC 

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: During a late night walk, and a rainstorm. You meet someone new. 

You couldn’t sleep. Tossing in turning in bed you couldn’t force yourself to rest even if you tried. By this point you’d tried most everything you could think of, tea, melatonin, ASMR videos but nothing had managed to get you to sleep. Your mind raced with thoughts and concerns. The longer you laid there the more worried you felt and the harder it became to calm down enough to feel any kind of relaxation.  

After a while you pulled yourself out of bed, accepting that you might just not be able to sleep at all. Leaning against your windowsill you looked out onto the dark street in front of you. Feeling the coolness of the glass against your fingertips. Maybe what you needed was some fresh air, something to clear your mind. 

In the dark you pulled on some clothes, opting for something warm but not too heavy. You weren’t going to stay out too long. Putting your necessities in your pockets you walked outside and down the street. Taking in the cool air around you. 

No one was outside with you. The sidewalk was completely abandoned. The lights inside the apartment buildings are completely dark. Only the streetlights to guide you. In the time you’d lived where you did you hadn’t explored too much but you did know there was some kind of park a little ways down the road. Maybe that would be a nice place to sit and hang out for a while until you started to feel a bit tired. 

The park was empty when you sat down on a bench. A few cars drove past but for the most part it was entirely silent. Looking up at the sky you couldn’t see any stars, either from the light pollution, or clouds blocking your view. 

A sigh escaped your lips, sitting out here, your thoughts went to everything taking up space in your mind. You hoped you’d be able to escape the stress going on in your wife out there, but instead found it worse and more intense than before. 

You were brought out of your mind by the feeling of something hitting your forehead. Your eyes fluttered open to see the drops of water starting to hit your face. Loudly groaning, you covered your face. 

“Of course it had to start raining!” You said out loud to yourself. You didn’t have anything to protect you from the it and it was easily a half an hour walk back to your home. The rain began to get worse, coming down less as a drizzle and more as a storm. 

Sitting there you almost wanted to scream, now you had to walk home in the pouring rain, probably take a shower to put on clean clothes and then try and sleep again in the apartment that has been making it hard to get any kind of worthwhile rest for a long time. 

“Are you okay?” Someone asked. You turned to look at who was speaking to you. A young man was watching you, His bright mint colored hair plastered to his forehead from the rain. You sat up straight, trying not to look like a witch melting from the water. 

“I’m fine, just didn’t expect it to rain that’s all.” You shrugged. The man glanced up at the rain. 

“Neither did I.” He said, he looked up at the sky and then back at you. “But isn’t it a little late to be going for a walk in the park?” The man had asked. 

“I could say the same to you, stranger.” You said. He laughed, a bit of a quiet warm laugh. 

“I guess that’s fair.” He said. “I’m V by the way, so we aren’t strangers anymore.” 

“V? That’s a strange name.” 

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, it’s more of a nickname. Everyone just calls me V.” You nodded. “What’s your name? If you don’t mind me asking.” You looked him up and down, trying to discern if this guy is or isn’t a creep, but based on his gentle expression and the careful distance he has between you. There was something about him that made you want to trust him. 

“I’m MC.” You said. At this point the rain was soaking into your clothes, your hair absolutely dripping. “So V, what are you doing out here in the rain?” He took a small step forward. 

He pushed the wet hair out of his face. “I just got into town a few hours ago, but I wanted to walk around for a little while. Find something to eat. Though I maybe should have prepared for the rain.” You laughed at him, though gently. 

“I probably should have too.” You said. “You said you just got to town, are you visiting?” 

“I am, I travel a lot for my work, so I’m here for a few weeks.” V explained. 

“What do you do for work?” 

“I’m a photographer.” V said. A strange thought in your mind made you think that somehow you recognized his name but you pushed the thought aside. “Why are you outside in this awful weather?” 

You pushed your own hair out of the way. “I couldn’t sleep, I wanted to go for a walk. I didn’t even think about it raining.” You rubbed your hands together, the cold rain making you lose feeling in them. 

V looked up at the rain. “I don’t think this is going to stop soon, and you look like you’re freezing.” He took notice of the way you were sitting, trying to stop yourself from shivering. The rain fully soaked through everything. 

“Probably not.” You stood up from the bench. “You said you were looking for somewhere to eat?” V nodded. You stepped closer to him, leaving only a couple feet between you now. “There’s this really great little place that’s open for a few more hours. It has good food.” V looked intrigued. 

“Oh where is it?” 

You pointed down the street. “It’s about two blocks that way, you walk straight for two blocks then take a left. It’s the one with the old fashioned neon sign. It’s hard to miss.” You explained to him. He nodded, mentally taking note of your directions, then an idea struck him. 

“Would you like to come with me?” He asked. You were taken aback by his sudden request. 

“I would hate to intrude.” You said but V shook his head. 

“Not intruding at all, I wouldn’t mind the company at all.” You opened your mouth then closed it again. A part of you thought maybe you should say no, but based on the way he was looking at you and the way he spoke. Something stronger told you to accept his request. 

You shrugged and then nodded. “Okay, I’ll go with you.” He smiled and stepped to the side motioning to you. 

“Then show the way.” You started to walk, V finding his stride beside you. 

Together you walked through the rain quickly, the two of you were already soaked to the bone but the sooner you could get inside the sooner you could warm up and dry off a bit. 

“So why do you like this restaurant so much?” V asked after a minute of walking. 

“It’s not too far from where I live and it has a really good atmosphere to it.” You explained to him. “Also it’s open really late so it’s a good place to go when you need a late night fix.” He nodded. 

“Do you have many nights like these? Where you’re awake late at night?” You shrugged, thinking about your answer for a few moments while you waited for the crossing sign to change. 

“Not as many as I used to, but I still have enough of them.” You said, the light changed. Both of you walked across the crosswalk. “Though usually I’m smart enough to remember an umbrella.” You pointed out where to take a left and changed directions. 

Once you spotted the neon sign the two of you were practically booking it to the door. Someone standing outside the restaurant laughed, watching the two of you running towards the entrance completely soaked. 

“Had to park far away huh?” The guy laughed holding open the door for the two of you. 

“Something like that” You said, the two of you going inside. 

V stood and took in the restaurant for a second. The neon lights inside gave everything a redish glow. Tables were mostly empty at the time. The walls were lined with black and white photos, showing a variety of people. Strange knick knacks lined shelves. The restaurant itself was small, but gave off a warm and slightly eclectic vibe. 

“Good god the two of you are drenched!” A server said leaning against the bar. “Sit down, do you want coffee?” You both thanked her profusely and sat down, shedding off soaked jackets not meant for the rain. Sitting in the restaurant you were able to get a better view of V than outside. You saw just how bright his eyes were, the same color as his hair. You couldn’t deny that he was a handsome guy, and seeing him almost took your breath away a bit. 

“This place is very unique,” V said looking around. 

“It has its own style, I like that about this place.” You explained. “It doesn’t feel like anywhere else in the world.” V smiled and nodded listening to you. Thinking for a second you looked down at the table. “Though, you’ve probably been all over the world as a photographer. You’d probably know better than me.” 

V’s face flushed a bit. “Well, I’ve been to a lot of places for sure, but this place is definitely very different. I already like it.” You smiled at him. 

“Here’s those coffees.” The server said setting down two steaming mugs. “And here’s some menus and I’ll be right back.” She set two menus down in front of you and stepped away going back behind the bar. You both took sips from your mugs, the coffee was bitter, not the highest of quality, but what you’d expect. You watched V add some sugar to his before taking another drink. 

You set the mug down on the table holding it for warmth. “So where are you from originally V?” He set down his own mug and looked back to you. 

“Seoul, originally.” He explained. 

“You’re a little far from home then.” You said. 

“I am, but I like travelling, there’s so much this world has to offer and I want to see it all.” 

“So you’re a bit of a vagabond then?” You asked. 

“I guess that’s one word for it.” He took a sip of his coffee. 

“I kind of admire that.” You said. “Being able to explore the whole world, never truly tied down to one place. Though I bet you have friends in Seoul who miss you when you’re gone?” He sighed and you noticed his expression change. Not in a painful way, just maybe a little distant. Like he was thinking of something from a long time ago now. 

He looked into his coffee cup. “I do, but home is a complicated thing.” You nodded. Part of you felt you shouldn’t press it, but curiosity got the best of you. Besides, what was the chance you would keep seeing him after tonight? 

“Why’s that?” He cringed a bit but took a deep breath to calm himself. 

“My fiance passed, about a year ago now.” Your mouth dropped open. 

“Oh my god I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have asked.” You apologized profusely. Guilt instantly bubbled in your chest. 

V seemed lost in his thoughts for a moment and then looked up at you seeing the look on your face. “Thank you, it’s still difficult for me to discuss.” 

“Well of course it is. I’m really sorry, that must have been horrible.” He nodded. 

“Hence why home doesn't really feel like home anymore.” Your face paled a bit, but V smiled. “Really it’s okay, I don’t mind that you asked.” He opened up the menu. “Now, what do you recommend here?” You stuttered opening your own menu. 

“Everything is good but I love their breakfast food in particular.” You explained. He looked through the menu. You still felt a bit embarrassed, you shouldn’t have tried to press into his personal life like that. Especially a person you’ve only known for less than an hour now. 

“I don’t know if I asked already but-” V looked up at you. “But why did you decide to go for a walk so late at night?” You laughed gently, trying to think of the answer yourself. 

“I couldn’t sleep, I guess I thought maybe going for a walk might help.” V listened and nodded when you were finished. 

He finished the coffee in his cup. “I know how that feels, sometimes what you need is some fresh air. Have you had a lot on your mind recently?” You shrugged. 

“I guess you could say that, but I think I always have a lot on my mind.” 

“A lot of burdens to bear?” V questioned. 

“Yeah, I guess they’d be burdens.” 

“I understand exactly how that feels.” V said. “Do you have people who can help share that burden?” 

You looked at him, his eyes showed genuine concern and curiosity. Not anything shallow. “I do, but I don’t like feeling like I’m burdening them though but I also know there’s no shame in needing to ask for help.” You explained. “You understand?” 

V looked thoughtful for a moment, like he was considering what you were saying. “I do, in theory.” 

“Not so much in practice?” You asked. 

“No. Not so much in practice.” V said. The server came back around and took down your orders. Then leaving the two of you alone again. 

There was a brief silence between you two. Then you chose to change the subject. “What kind of photos do you take?” V seemed to perk up at the mention of his work. 

“Landscapes mostly, but I also like to experiment with different things. Try and stretch myself.” You listened to him carefully. When he talked about his work he got this look in his eyes. Something peaceful, almost wistful. 

“Did you always want to be a photographer?” 

“No actually.” V laughed, pushing some more of his wet hair out of his face. “Growing up I wanted to be a businessman like my father, but then I realized that wasn’t the path for me and decided to pursue photography instead.” 

“I’m guessing Dad wasn’t too happy about that?” Jihyun laughed again, although this one with a different tone. 

“Not at all, my father isn’t one to think very highly of artists.” 

“Well that’s a shame.” You said. “I’m sure you’re a great photographer.” 

V’s face flushed red. “Thank you, that’s a very kind thing for you to say.” 

The two of you chatted more, only pausing briefly when your food arrived at your table. V asked about your own life, what you did for work, about your background. His questions were all respectful, but he had the energy of someone who felt you could tell anything too. Talking to V felt comfortable, like there was no pressure or judgement. Only a good ear that wanted to listen to you. 

Near the end of your meal you were both laughing. V wasn’t one to talk to much about himself but you’d managed a few things out of him. He talked about his best friend back in Seoul. A man who based on his description seemed to be V’s exact opposite. Yet they got along just as well as they did as children. He mentioned his role as the leader of a charity organization he started with his late fiance. 

You noticed the way he looked whenever he mentioned her, his late fiance. He tended to rub his eyes when he mentioned her, then he would get this look in his eyes. One that you read as painful, but also longing, and maybe a small sense of fear. You let him say as much as he wanted to say, not pushing him on the subject of  her. 

Even after you finished your food you waited for a while, hoping that maybe the rain would let up a little. After a while though it became clear that wasn’t going to be the case. The rain even seemed to be worse than before. 

“Let me call you a cab to take you home, I would feel terrible if you had to walk in the rain again.” You perked up and shook your head. 

“No I couldn’t have you do that, I really don’t live very far I’ll just walk home.” 

“Then if it’s alright may I walk you home? Just so I know you get there safe?” Looking him over and thinking for a minute you nodded. Even if you’d only known him a short time, V seemed trustworthy. 

“Okay.” He smiled, you paid for your meal and made your way to the entrance. Looking out into the pouring rain again you both gathered your courage. 

“Ready to go out there?” V asked you. 

“No but we have to.” You took a deep breath and stepped out, getting your slightly dried clothes soaked all over again. V followed you. “I’m not too far away I promise, just a few blocks.” 

You both went through a mixture of running and walking, the heavy rain making it hard to see and talk. You held onto V’s arm as to to lose him, or slip on the slick sidewalk. Your heart raced in your chest and you spared a few looks at V. 

Only a couple hours ago you were just deciding to go out, and now you're running alongside someone you never would have thought you’d meet. This almost felt like a scene from a book or a movie, meeting a kind stranger while on a park bench in a rainstorm. Again, you weren’t complaining though. 

You stopped in front of the door to your building leaning against the small amount of cover you could get. You both panted from the running, dripping with rain again. You realized just how much you would need a hot shower after this. 

“Well.” You said. “This is mine. You can get back to your hotel alright?” V nodded. 

“Yes, I think I’ll probably call for someone to pick me up but I’ll be fine.” He said looking back out into the rain. “It was really nice to meet you.” 

You smiled at him. “It was lovely to meet you too V. Thank you for going to late night food with me.” 

“It was my pleasure.” He said. He looked out at the rain and then back at you. The same look on his face as when he first asked you to eat with him. “I’m going to be here, in town for the next two weeks. Normally I would wander around myself but I would love to get a local to show me around the best places.” He said looking at you. 

You took a deep breath. “Are you asking to see me again V?” 

“I suppose I am. I hope I wasn’t too forward?” You shook your head. 

“Not at all, I’d love to see you again too.” You smiled at him and reached your hand out. “I’ll give you my number so you can call me.” He pulled his phone from his pocket and took down your number alongside your name. 

“I’ll call you tomorrow then. Thank you for this, meeting you has truly been an unexpected gift.” V told you. 

“Likewise.” You looked into his eyes, your heart racing fast. You both stared at each other for a moment, standing close to him you could vaguely smell some washed away cologne. 

After a moment you came to your senses and stepped away, your heart beating far too fast. “I should head in, change out of these clothes. Safe a good and safe night V. I hope you sleep well.” His eyes lingered on you, but he smiled. 

“You too, I hope you can actually sleep now.” 

“Me too.” You laughed opening your door. “Goodnight V.”

“Goodnight.” He said, you slipped inside walking slowly. Your heart thrumming in your chest. A small smile on your face. 

When you returned to your apartment you were careful not to drip too much on your floor. Still you wandered to the window and looked out the front. Watching V as he got into a taxi, taking a brief look up at the building. Like he was trying to find you in one of the windows. Though not quite catching your gaze. 

As the taxi drove away you looked to your phone praying for a call in the morning. A sense of excitement at the thought of seeing V again. 

You showered and lied down in bed, able to fall asleep now quickly, your mind full of more positive thoughts. More wondrous thoughts, that it didn’t take long for you to drift off. 

While you slept your phone lit up, a couple text messages lighting up the screen. 

It was lovely to meet you tonight, I really hope I can see you again. 

This is V btw :)

[chelsfic]

Accident Forgiveness - Part 2 - Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part One | Masterlist

A/N: Part two!! This is so very fun to write. I hope you enjoy! Thanks to @sabinemorans​ for listening to me talk about it! Reader gets a nickname in this one, because I can’t deal with Y/N.

Summary: Your wrist is finally healed after your run-in with a certain brooding freight train. You score a great deal on an adorable little motorbike and fix it up with your dad. All you want is a nice Sunday ride...what could go wrong?

Warnings: Fluff, Crack, automobile accidents...

---

The bike calls to you. It’s leaning up against a garage with a hand-written “For Sale” sign on it. It looks old, rusted, and well-used. Considering the low price scrawled on the sign you’re betting it needs some work.

You need it.

You pull out your phone and open your frequent contacts.

“Hey dad? How would you feel about coming down to the city with your pick-up this weekend?”

Your dad’s gruff voice rumbles over the line, “Sounds awful. When and where?”

---

You spend the weekend at your dad’s place in White Plains, fixing up the bike in the garage. Under the layers of rust and grime, it turns out to be a 2001 Honda Super Cub. Beyond a tune up and an oil change, the only thing really wrong with it is the body. Nothing a fresh coat of paint can’t fix. 

“This is a nice little bike, kiddo,” your dad congratulates you, wiping grease and sweat from his brow with an old rag. “You gonna keep it here or ride it around the city?”

You’re perched on a tall stool at your dad’s workbench, your short legs dangling as you consider, “It’d be fun to have it with me in the city on the weekends. I just gotta convince my landlord to let me keep it in his storage shed...I don’t want to leave it on the street…”

You hop off the stool to run your hand over the motorcycle’s refinished body. You’ve painted it in a sleek two-tone pattern: red and cream. Hawkguy is going to be so jealous.

“I don’t think it’ll be a problem.”

---

“Nah,” Clint waves you off as he unlocks the door to his apartment. You’ve been lurking out in the hallway waiting for him to get home. 

“What do you mean, ‘nah’?” you whine, following him inside without asking. Pizza Dog jumps up to greet you, nearly knocking you down in his enthusiasm. You smile and give him a quick hug before starting again. “You still owe me, Barton!”

Clint’s head has disappeared into the refrigerator and he emerges with a Chinese food box and his mouth already stuffed with lo mein.

“Wahhh doo eein?!” he chews his food, swallowing and trying again, “Whadya mean? I threw you an apology party, didn’t I? You know how long it’ll take me to clean out that shed to fit a motorcycle inside?”

“C’mon, Clint! If I leave it on the street it’ll get stolen. Or it’ll end up collateral damage in one of your little superhero battles,” you wheedle. You walk into the kitchenette and grab his arm, looking up at him with your biggest puppy dog eyes, “C’monnnn!”

Clint sighs dramatically and finally gives in.

“On one condition...”

---

The bike struggles to reach 30 miles per hour under your combined weight and Clint’s massive form looks ridiculous clinging to you on the back of the little motor bike. But you have to admit--this is pretty damn fun. 

“Weee!” Clint yells from behind you as you putter through the streets of Brooklyn with a giant smile on your face.

---

People are passing you and giving you dirty looks as you make your way over the Brooklyn Bridge. Well, futz them. You’re enjoying your Sunday afternoon ride. You feel like a real rebel without a cause in your worn leather jacket and the bulbous, cherry red helmet you bought to match your bike. Nobody needs to know the saddle bag strapped to the back is full of library books and a take-out container from your favorite bakery.

The sun is just getting low and it’s orange-red glow reflects on the surface of the East River as you chug along. The sounds of car engines and the occasional curse from an annoyed motorist are suddenly interrupted by a long, deafening screech. You glance over your shoulder and your eyes widen in alarm as a black SUV barrels through traffic, heedlessly colliding with other vehicles as it clears a path over the bridge. 

“HOLY SH--”

The SUV screams past and you barely have time to process what you’re seeing before you’re suddenly, brutally thrown from your bike. You tuck your limbs into your body and slam into the cement with enough force to knock the wind out of you. You roll several feet before skidding to a stop. The leather jacket mostly saves you from road rash but your hands are a bloody mess and it feels like your whole middle is one big bruise. What the fuck was that? It felt almost like someone pushed you off but that’s--

You look up just in time to see your bike zooming--well, doing it’s best to zoom--away with a dark figure riding it.

Oh, hell no!

---

The red-wigged impostor is in handcuffs and leaning against the side of the SUV with a surly expression. Bucky glares at the woman, clearly connected with the Red Room and attempting to frame Natasha for the string of murders she committed over the last week.

“Don’t feel like talking, huh?” he shrugs, removing a knife from his belt and flipping it expertly in his hand. “Don’t worry, mladshaya sestra...I’ll help you find the words.”

The woman refuses to meet his eyes, fixing her gaze in the middle distance instead. Only the faintest sneer curling her lips indicates that she’s heard him at all.

Sam lands gracefully a few feet away and is already talking into his ear piece to call in backup. 

“Lotta damage, here,” he states, glancing around at the crashed cars and the wrecked motorcycle. “You’re almost as bad as Banner, Buck. Think you can manage one mission without smashing something?”

“Hey, I captured the target, didn’t I?” Bucky rolls his eyes and slips the knife back into his belt holster. 

Clint finally arrives, huffing and puffing after trying to keep up with the super soldier. He’s bent almost double, catching his breath, when his eyes light on the familiar red and cream motor bike lying mangled on the ground. 

“Hey...isn’t that--?”

All three superhero’s heads snap up as you come limping up to the scene. You’re carrying your helmet at your side and your hair is an impressive tangle whipping around your head in the breeze. When you lay eyes on the wrecked Super Cub you let out a shriek.

“MY BIKE!!”

Bucky freezes in place, his eyes wide and every muscle tensed in anxiety.

“You gotta be shittin’ me,” he mumbles under his breath. 

Clint eyes him accusingly. He is never going to hear the end of this…

You stand there looking down at your ruined bike and thinking about all the adventures you’d planned to have with her. You were going to take her to Coney Island...Rockaway beach...maybe even take a road trip to the Berkshires… Your poor sweet Cubby didn’t ask for this!

“You!” you snarl, marching up to Bucky with your hands on your hips. “Why is it always you!? Do you have it out for me or something?”

Clint snorts and mutters, “He’s got somethin’ for you…”

“SHUT UP!” you and Bucky both yell simultaneously.

You turn back to Bucky and arch your brow in expectation, “Well?”

The super-spy ex-assassin Avenger stumbles over his words, “I--uh, well...I didn’t mean...I didn’t know it was--”

“Didn’t know it was ME?” you finish for him with renewed fury. “Bucky! You can’t just go around shoving people off their motorcycles!”

“‘S hardly a motorcycle…,” he mumbles angrily. “More of a scooter if anything.”

“You! You...ugh!” you fall on him in a flurry of practically useless punches aimed at his chest. Bucky stands there looking bemused as you rain down fury with your tiny fists on his solid, immovable muscles.

“Hey!” Clint shouts in an excellent approximation of a frustrated dad voice. “Enough! Don’t do a hit on Bucky! That’s not nice.”

He puts his arms around you from behind and drags you away from the super soldier who looks--infuriatingly--unscathed. 

“But he stole my bike and wrecked it!” you whine, finally going limp and dropping from Clint’s hold.

Clint rolls his eyes to the sky like a martyr. 

“And do two wrongs make a right, young lady?”

“Pshh,” you scoff, shaking your head and leaning over your bike to check the saddle bag. You flip it open to find that the box containing your cherry pie has been pulverized and…

“MY LIBRARY BOOKS!!!”

---

The next morning you’re awoken by the cacophony of sounds coming from the alleyway behind the building. It sounds like Monty Python building the frickin’ Trojan Rabbit. You growl and roll out of bed, falling to the floor and catching yourself on your bandaged hands, cursing at the stinging pain.

“Stupid…’vengers...think they can do whatever they want...just cuz they save the world sometimes…” you’re muttering under your breath as you stagger to your feet and pull the cord on your blinds to look out your bedroom window. 

The door to the supply shed is open and two guys are bent over your wrecked bike. You throw the window open in an instant and climb out onto the fire escape.

“Hey!” you bellow. “Uh--stop! That’s my bike! I know the Avengers, buds! And I can have them down here so fast--”

The two men crane their necks to look up at you. One of them is wearing a welding mask but the other one is definitely--

“Bucky?”

He looks up at you with a sheepish smile and gives a little wave with his metal hand.

“Hey, Kit Kat…” he greets and you frown in confusion until you look down and realize you’re wearing a baggy nightshirt you’d got at Hershey Park. It’s emblazoned with the Kit Kat logo. Even from two stories up you can see the gleam of humor in his eyes. You can also see...a lot more. He’s wearing a black tank top that shows off his impossibly toned shoulders and back. Your brain short circuits momentarily as you rake your eyes down his form. 

The man beside him flips up the mask and you see he’s an older guy with a sharp goatee. 

“Are we taking a social break or are we getting to work, Barnes? You know I gave up brunch to do this for you. Brunch,” the man voice drips with sarcasm.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright, Tony,” Bucky shakes his head and turns back to the bike. 

Wait, Tony as in--?

“Hey!” you call down and Bucky lifts his head up to lock eyes with you. How can those blue eyes still have so much power from so far away?? “You still owe me for the library books!”

Bucky laughs and turns back to the bike.

“I mean it! I have a clean library record, Bucky! I’m gonna have fines!”

“Don’t push it, doll!” he calls as Tony ignites the blow torch.

---

A week later you scoot up to the curb on a side street near the Bedford Branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. Cubby has been restored to her former glory thanks to Bucky and Tony’s loving care and you give her an affectionate pat as you dismount and walk down the street toward the squat, brick library building. There may be grander libraries in New York but this is your neighborhood branch and it feels like home. You mutter and shake your head at the prospect of having to pay replacement fines for the books that Bucky ruined.

The librarian behind the desk is about your age with dyed bright red hair and a sleeve of tattoos that look like children’s book illustrations. Cool. 

“Hey--um,” you roll your eyes in irritation at yourself. “I have to pay some replacement fees? I kind of...got cherry pie all over some books.”

The librarian laughs good-naturedly and pulls up your account on her computer. She asks you for the titles and frowns at her screen. 

“Looks like...yeah--they’ve already been paid for,” she tells you with a shrug. “Guess you have a mysterious benefactor.”

You smile faintly and shake your head. Mysterious, my ass. You thank her and you’re about to leave when she stops you. 

“Do you want to pick up your hold?”

You don’t remember putting anything on hold...but you’ve had occasional bouts of late-night enthusiasm that resulted in excessive library catalog searches, maybe you forgot...

“Uh...sure,” you say and watch as she disappears into an office behind the circulation desk.

She returns a few minutes later with a slim paperback volume in her hands. She scans the barcode and slips the receipt into the book.

“Enjoy!” she says with a smile and you thank her once again. 

You glance down at the cover as you’re walking out and you let out a bark of laughter even as irritation spikes behind your eyes. 

“Motorcycle Safety: Basics for Beginners”

Bucky Frickin’ Barnes...

Tags: @watsonwise​ 

A/N: “Don’t do a hit on Bucky”-- yes that was a McElroy reference. 

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

Hayloft - Part 2

Series Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist - Full Masterlist

Summary: A young girl finds a soldier hiding in the hayloft on her father’s farm. Intrigued, she visits him more and more until her father finds out and puts him to work. As they grow closer, something else grows too.

Pairing: James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes x OC Jenny Richelle “Ricky” Hill

Warning: Strong language, inaccurate war description

Author’s note: Based on the song Hayloft by Mother Mother and the lovestory of my grandparents. I am Dutch and the war was a bit different here, so I will be basing this on the stories I’ve heard about my grandparents.

Word count: 2433

‘What are you reading Jenny?‘ ‘What’s it to you James?‘ ‘Just curious, that’s all.‘ He watches as a smile starts tugging on the corners of her lips. She tries to surppres it, but the sparkle in her eyes is clear as day. ‘Of sons and lovers,‘ she hums, showing him the front, ‘do you know it?‘ ‘Heard of it, haven’t had the chance to read it,‘ he answers, ‘will you read it to me?‘

From that moment on, she’d read to him every Friday and Sunday. Sometimes on Wednesdays if he’d look at her nicely. Though Jenny’s father would rather have her spend time with other lads who are a little more wealthy, he didn’t mind for the time being. After all, the two seemed to be great friends. Meanwhile, Jenny was falling hard and fast. She hadn’t known this feeling before. The butterflies in her stomach when he’d wink at her, the racing of her heart when he’d touch her skin, the way she got light headed when he’d tease her. She could deal with Michelle, the pictures, and the fear of being caught if she knew she could come home to James.  The pictures on the cork board at her work kept changing. Eventually, Timothy’s picture disappeared as he lived a town over and couldn’t possibly still be here. James and Johnny’s pictures were moved up to make them more prominent, but with their messy stubble, weathered faces, and much longer locks they were barely recognizable from them. Jenny continuously send secret letters to James and Johnny’s relatives and friends under her own name. When anyone asked about it, she just said she was catching up with pen pals. Then one day a strange letter arrived. Jenny hadn’t seen the handwriting before. As usual, she gathered the men in the living room to read them their letters and burn them right after. They weren’t allowed to keep them in fear they would be found if they were searched. And so she got to the strange letter. It read.

“Dear Jenny,

Thank you for your wonderful letter. I am grateful to hear you are safe and sound. It has been a while. Please say hi to him for me and tell me that I miss him. Tell him I’m not angry anymore and I understand why he left us when he did. There’s no shame in it, I just wish I could visit to see his face again. Tell him I got into the army. It’s not the position I wanted, but I get to represent my country. Please don’t laugh at me when you see my face.

I hope to hear from you soon,

Yours sincerely,

Steve Rogers“

‘Who is Steve Rogers,‘ Jenny asks James, but when she looks up from the letter she can see the tears in his eyes. ‘Are you okay James?‘ ‘He’s my best friend,‘ James sniffles with a smile, ‘I used to be better at everything, but now he’s finally outdone me.‘ He looks proud and nostalgic as he swallows his tears away. ‘You know, I haven’t heard people call me James in such a long time because he always used to call me Bucky.‘ ‘That’s a nice nickname,‘ Jenny smiles and takes a seat next to him on the couch while the others leave, having thrown their letters in the fire. She hands James his. He laughs when he reads it again. ‘He probably spend hours on this,‘ he chuckles, ‘he never knew how to use his words. I always had to help him find friends or a date. Last time I saw him we went to a fair and I was supposed to leave for the war the next day. He wanted to fight so bad, but he’s build like a toothpick and there’s no way they’re letting someone like that in.‘ Jenny hands him a piece of paper. ‘I wrote down the return address for you, might you ever want to write him again,‘ she tells him. James looks at her in disbelieve. ‘You are a goddamn angel,‘ he smiles and throws his arms around her, engulfing her in a tight hug, ‘you are the best thing that could’ve happened to me.‘ She laughs and pushes him off a little. ‘You’re crushing me,‘ she chuckles when he lets go of her. Alpine wanders into the living room and jumps onto James’ lap. Jenny scratches her behind her ear with a smile while James admired her. ‘I like Bucky. It’s a nice nickname. Fits you way better than James.‘ ‘How come?‘ ‘James is way too smooth,‘ she eyebrows knit together a little while she tries to explain it, ‘it’s what most of those soldiers walking around town look like. Bucky is a bit more rugged and strong. It’s a handsome name.‘ He watches her face change to a bit of mischief. ‘You’re going to be the death of me,‘ he chuckles. ‘I thought I was an angel,‘ she bats her eyes innocently, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. ‘Don’t forget to burn that letter. I’m going to help mother out with dinner.‘ And she’s gone while James feels his cheeks heat up. Alpine looks up at him with a judgmental look. ‘Don’t say it, I know,‘ he sighs, talking to the cat, ‘this isn’t going to end well.‘

‘Good morning gents,‘ Jenny chirps, opening the door to the shed to bring their breakfast, ‘I got some jam for you today.‘ Johnny almost jumps out of his bed. ‘Good morning Jenny, how does it feel to be old,‘ he teases her, poking at her side. ‘Ah, stop it,‘ she laughs at the tickling, ‘I’m not old. Call James old!‘ ‘I’m 23, not a fossil,‘ he chuckles in a rough morning voice. ‘Is it your birthday,‘ Timothy asks, peeking from under his covers. ‘Yeah, I’m 22 today,‘ she smiles, pushing Johnny’s face away, ‘so my father bought jam from the neighbors and my mom is making a cake.‘ ‘Cake,‘ James asks in disbelieve. It had been ages since he had eaten cake. Most people don’t have money to acquire the ingredients. ‘Don’t expect too much from it,‘ she smiles, ‘it’s just custard and rusk.‘ ‘Honestly, that’s better than I expected,‘ he smiles, ‘I’ve heard people make fig cakes these days.‘ ‘Oh, I’ve heard of those,‘ Johnny laughs, ‘heard they’re hard enough to bash someone’s head in.‘ James watches Jenny’s smile a she talks to Johnny before her shift. She looks so good in her navy, knee-length skirt; navy, fitted waistcoat; and ivory blouse. As for today she’s holding a jacket in the same navy color over her arm. The nights had become colder and longer. Winter is coming and they all know it. The shed will be a lot colder in the following months. ‘I’ll be back earlier today, I only have a half shift,‘ Jenny tells them with a smile, ‘enjoy the jam.‘ ‘Thank you.‘

Though the days might be colder as winter approaches, the work has gotten harder. It’s harvest time and the boys are busy beyond compare. They work until they’re covered in sweat and only stop when misses Hill comes outside to give them water. The two younger boys in the family help them with some smaller tasks while Penny, the other daughter, sits by the tree behind the farmhouse and knits. Around twelve, misses Hill comes outside with lunch and sets it down by Penny. They boys sit in a circle with her while she continues to knit. James watches what she’s doing and notices the small mountain of knitted materials next to her. ‘Say Penny, what are you making?‘ She looks up from her work. ‘Oh, mother told me to knit some sweaters because the weather is getting colder,‘ she tells him, ‘mother normally does it, but she’s busy sewing jackets.‘ ‘Sewing jackets?‘ ‘Yeah, you don’t think we’re going to let you guys freeze to death do you,‘ she grins and hands him one of the sweaters to show him, ‘you should be happy Jenny has a job. She’s terrible at knitting and sewing.‘ James takes a look at the sweater. They’re just simple, white sweaters. Probably made from the wool of the sheep that stand in the stables. ‘We’re going to dye them once they’re done so you all have your own,‘ she hums, continuing with her work. ‘How wil you dye them? Isn’t that terribly expensive these days,‘ Timothy asks her a bit concerned. ‘It’s fine. We’re going to use wild berries and some other things like coffee grounds,‘ she explains to him, ‘we’re not exactly short on money, but it’s good to be creative in these times.‘ ‘How’d you guys end up hiding stowaways,‘ James ask, taking a big bite out of his sandwich. ‘Well, Johnny was here with Jenny when we heard soldiers were going to check every house for young gents who didn’t join the army,‘ she says, giving Johnny a small smile, ‘so we made him hide in the crawl space under the house until things calmed down, but it turns out they weren’t going to check us because we need the help on the farm so the men that were here would be safe. Besides, they already took our brother away.‘ She doesn’t look far as sad as Jenny does when talking about him. ‘So who wants what color? I’ll be able to make brown, blue, and red.‘ ‘I’d like brown,‘ Timothy mumbles. ‘I’ll take blue,‘ Johnny grins. ‘I guess that leaves red for me,‘ James smiles at her, eating the last few bites of his sandwich before getting up again. ‘Let’s get back to work.‘ Johnny sighs loudly. ‘No fun that one,‘ he jokes to Penny. They hear something on the gravel and Wesley and Nathan jump up. The group sees Jenny stepping off her bike and putting it against the fence like she does every day. James looks at her like the world just got a little brighter. The sunshine in his life returned and seems to just look at him. ‘Ah, did I miss lunch,‘ she laughs as her brothers pull her towards the group, ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier.‘ She presses a kiss to everyone’s cheek, but stops for a second after kissing James’ cheek and smiles. She starts rubbing his cheek with her thumb and he can only think of what her lipstick stain on his cheek might look like. ‘It’s fine,‘ he grumbles, ‘how was your day?‘ Without realizing it, he puts an arm around her waist while she keeps scrubbing at his cheek. ‘Gosh, terrible,‘ she grins, ‘they took half the pictures off the cork-board. It’s horrific to see them take them off and see the poor lads being dragged down the street. Don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.‘ She looks satisfied at his cheek and takes a step back, realizing they all have stains on their cheeks. ‘You guys should wash up.‘ ‘Why don’t we get the same treatment as James,‘ Johnny whines. She steps over to him, grabs his jaw, and violently scrubs his face. ‘Wait, no, I surrender. Stop!‘ The group laughs for a second. ‘Oi, back to work lads,‘ mister Hill calls as he steps out of the house.

After dinner it’s time for the improvised cake. Jenny turns an, to James adorable, shade of red when they start singing Happy Birthday to her. She looks with bright eyes at the candles on top of the cake and closes her eyes with her hands folded together before blowing them out. James can’t take his eyes off of her. Misses Hill divides the cake evenly between the nine of them and everyone is quiet at the sweet taste. ‘It’s great mom,‘ Jenny smiles at her mother, ‘perfect birthday.‘ Misses Hill walks over to her daughter and hands her a small, wrapped package. ‘Your grandmother send this over.‘ Jenny’s eyes shine as she opens the package. Everyone looks curiously at the small box as she opens it. Inside is a dainty, golden necklace with a golden coin on it. Jenny flips it over to see the back of it and smiles. ‘She got it engraved,‘ she smiles, tears of joy poking her eyes as she shows her mother. ‘That’s wonderful sweetheart,‘ her mother answers, ‘shall I put it on for you?‘ Jenny nods and hands the necklace to her mother who helps her put it on while she holds up her hair. The whole scene looks enchanting to James. In fact, it looks enchanting to all of them. She lets her hair fall down and shows her sister the coin. ‘Look, its an angel riding a Pegasus,‘ she smiles. Penny gives it a small glance and shrugs. It’s not special to her, but it means the world to Jenny. 

The dinner comes to an end and James and Jenny end up reading on the couch as they often do these days. Alpine is curled up between them and comfortably purrs as both James and Jenny pet her gently. But is James actually reading? He seems to be awing at Jenny’s foccussed face. Heart shaped eyes almost pop out of his skull. ‘Stop looking at me,‘ Jenny whispers at him. He closes his book and pretends to be offended. ‘I was not looking at you.‘ ‘Oh please, you’re a terrible liar,‘ Jenny says as she puts her book down as well. ‘Do you want to go look at the stars from the hayloft?‘ She sighs and puts her book on the coffee table. ‘Fine, but bring a blanket this time. I found hay everywhere last time,‘ she sighs. Alpine follows as the two make their way to the hayloft and open the small window to look outside at she night sky while laying on the hay. James puts the blanket over the hay and arranges it so they can sit comfortably. He sits down first and takes her hand to pull her onto his chest. She turns a bright shade of red when she lands and looks up at his face. ‘You’re adorable,‘ he smiles, feeling tingles going through his whole body. ‘S-stop that,‘ she mumbles, trying to push herself away but his arm has her captured. ‘Hey, where’d my confident Jenny go,‘ he teases.  ‘Oh go fuck yourself,‘ she grins. ‘Gladly, through I’d rather fuck you.‘ She stares with wide eyes into his as a smug smirk plays on his lips. ‘Fuck it,‘ she mumbles and straddles him, dipping down to connect his lips with hers. ‘My dad is going to shoot you.‘ ‘Angel, that only makes it more exciting.‘

[someonefantastic]

Breath In, Breathe Out

Howdy folks! So this is a shorter scene from a much longer aftermath of Yin fic I am currently writing. Which means, whenever I finish that, you'll probably see this again. For some slight context, Lassiter went home with Juliet after the clocktower to give her support and such so that's where they are in this. Hope y'all enjoy! Summary: Post-Yin, Carlton is not sure if he's helping Juliet at all but he has to try, even through nightmares and panic attacks. Warnings: panic attacks, nightmares also on ao3 ____ A scream paused his searching through her cabinets, halting a previous quest for some tea or coffee. Cocking his gun, he nearly tripped over his feet in the mad scramble to get to her bedroom. If he had somehow gotten to her, Carlton would surely reign hell. Freezing in the doorway, he stood almost paralyzed watching her struggle, thrashing back and forth as sheets tangled around her. She whimpered and his heart lurched.

“O’Hara?” He called out, not sure of what to do, all of this was new to him. Waking her wasn’t preferable, after the night she’d had she needed to sleep. But letting her stay tortured by a nightmare seemed even worse.

He reached out a hand, intending to gently shake her awake when she shot up, eyes wild.

“O’Hara,” He tried again. He wanted to comfort her, wanted to pull her into a safe embrace but his hands hung uselessly at his sides.

When she didn’t respond, his eyebrows furrowed. He knew waking up from a nightmare was disorienting but something felt off. Her eyes were defocused and her breathing labored. Hands clenching and unclenching twisted sheets.

His eyes went wide as he figured it out, “Ah crap.” All of the signs were there, it was a panic attack for sure. Typically it was Juliet who dealt with the panicked victims, coaxed them through the attack; or there was someone with medical training nearby who could help. Of course he had received training but that didn’t mean he was confident he could help her- heck he wasn’t even confident he was helping before this.

But he had to try.

He awkwardly crawled on the bed, kneeling in front of her. A slight tremor raced throughout her whole body but aside from that she remained motionless.

“Juliet.” He briefly considered calling her ‘Jules’ but the nickname died on his tongue. It was too weird. “I don’t know if you can hear me but if you can, I need you to breathe.”

When she didn’t respond, he kept talking. “I know it's hard. I know life sucks right now and you can’t even sleep without it affecting you. I know you must feel scared and alone but you need to breathe.”

His sigh was shaky. He hated being vulnerable, didn’t usually emphasize but this was his partner and he had to be there for her. “I’m right here Juliet. I’m going to help you through this but you need to listen to me. Remember, I’m your partner, I’ve always got your back.”

“Follow me Juliet. Breathe in, breathe out.” His chest rose and fell with deep breaths.

“Breathe in, breathe out.” He repeated, worry growing as she remained frozen.

“Come on O’Hara, I need you to breathe.” He instructed her again, voice breaking as he spoke. He kept going though, despite the growing lump in his throat or the tightness in his chest, kept repeating the mantra again and again.

“Breathe in, breathe out.” He instructed for what felt like the millionth time. His heart sped up when he noticed her eyes snap to his. “Good, good. Just keep breathing Juliet.”

Chests rising and falling in unison, they breathed together. Carlton kept going, refused to stop until Juliet did.

When reality did seem to crash around her, she slouched, tears filling her eyes. “I was there. I was there and I fell.” Carlton swallowed heavily as he realized she was talking about her nightmare. “I fell and- thank you.” Her voice was soft, cracking a bit from lack of use.

He nodded, not knowing what else to do before shuffling to his feet. “I’ll go make us some coffee.”

“Wait, Carlton.” She called, causing him to freeze in the doorway. Slowly he turned around, his heart twisting. She looked so small, so vulnerable, sitting in the middle of her bed, sheets pilled up and pillows askew.

“Can you stay with me?”

His throat clogged with emotion, he simply nodded, crossing the bedroom to sit in the empty wicker chair in the corner.

“Stay… next to me.” She clarified, not meeting his eyes.

Again he nodded before shedding his suit jacket and tie and crawling into the bed next to her. He propped a pillow up against the headboard and leaned back. Almost instantly she was at his side, head leaning against his shoulder as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. His hand rubbed up and down her arm in slow motions as her eyes drifted shut again.

He didn’t know if it’d be enough to keep the nightmares at bay but at least he would be there for her when she woke up.

[canarypoint]

Legends of Y/N Lance - Chapter 1: Pilot

Warning(s): cursing, mentions of death, little bit of violence, very, very slight mention of sex

A/N: oh...looks like this is actually happening, huh? for those of you waiting for me to post the requests from the other day/night/something, i’m working on them! i just have the attention span of a goldfish. should i make a taglist or whatever it’s called for the series?

A/N #2: a lot of the dialogue was taken directly from the corresponding episode of Arrow (1x01 “Pilot”), all rights to it go to the respective owners or whatever pleasetellmei’mnotgonnagetintroubleforusingitbecauseyesthat’sageniunefearihavelol. i also highly recommend rewatching (or just watching- tho, if you haven’t seen Arrow yet, i highly recommend just watching the entire Arrowverse before reading this...) the episode first.

Click here for the series summary.

Click here for the previous chapter (Chapter 0: What’s Past is Prologue).

Click here for the series masterlist.

The TV plays the all-too-familiar ‘Breaking News’ sound, alerting you of just that. The first thing you notice is the big ‘LOST BILLIONAIRE FOUND’ heading at the bottom of the screen. Your heart drops when the man begins speaking.

“Oliver Queen is alive. The Starling City resident was found by fishermen in the North China Sea five days ago,” you flinch when it shows a picture of the man in question. “Five years after he was missing and presumed dead following the accident at sea which claimed The Queen’s Gambit.”

You let out a harsh sigh as the news continues its report.

“Queen was a regular tabloid presence and a fixture at the Starling City club scene. Shortly before his disappearance, he was acquitted of assault charges stemming from a highly publicized drunken altercation with paparazzi.”

You roll your eyes at the clip of said altercation.

“Queen is also the son of Starling City billionaire Robert Queen who was also on board but now officially confirmed as deceased.”

“Turn it off,” your oldest sister, Laurel, tells you. You quickly pick up the remote and hit the power button without question. If it’s this hard for you, you can’t even imagine how hard it is for the playboy’s ex-girlfriend.

•••

“Come on, Laurel. We’re lawyers, not miracle workers. We can’t win this,” Joanna pleads.

You scoff from Laurel’s desk as she shoots back with, “If we can’t win a class-action suit against a man who swindled hundreds of people out of their homes and life savings then we’re not fit to call ourselves a legal aid office.”

“And if we go bankrupt in the process we won’t be a legal aid office. Hunt has an army of lawyers and they’re ready to bury us.”

“You and I against an army. I love those odds.”

“Why do you hate me?”

You laugh as Laurel shoos you off her chair.

“L, you said you were gonna-” you’re cut-off by the TV.

“And in other news, as to the castaway story you’ve all heard about. The son of a very wealthy billionaire will soon become a legendary story. Jessica now has more details and the complete castaway story.”

As Laurel stands up, you unconsciously move closer to her.

“The Queen’s Gambit was last heard from more than five years ago.” Laurel begins to walk closer to where everyone else in CNRI is gathered around the television.

“Laurel, where-” you question, starting to follow her.

“Mr. Queen has reportedly confirmed he was the only survivor of the accident-” a single tear rolls down your face, one of the thousands already shed, “-that took the lives of seven people including local resident Sara Lance. Survived by her sister, Laurel-”

Laurel shuts the TV off, earning the attention of her colleagues and coworkers.

•••

Freshman year of high school is hard enough, but whatever ominous deity is out there - whether it be a god, the universe, or some fifth-dimensional imp - is clearly out to get you.

Everyone - literally everyone; students, teachers, staff, even the fucking janitor - is talking about Oliver Queen and his great return! And, because said hypothetical ominous deity is clearly some sort of sadist, everyone is also talking about Sara and how “unfortunate” her death was.

“Yo, Lance,” some upperclassman calls. You look at him, a remark about your cop father and attorney sister already on the tip of your tongue.

“Yeah?” you ask. You’re already bored with this conversation, not to mention pissed beyond comprehension.

“I dunno why everyone’s feeling so sorry for you,” he starts. “She was kinda asking for it, especially since she was helping Queen cheat on your sister. That bi-”

The more he talks, the more you see red until you finally can’t take it anymore. Without thinking, you slip your backpack off of your shoulders and onto the floor in one swift motion. You know people are already watching you, they have been since Oliver’s return, but despite the however-many eyes watching, no one is quick enough to realize what you’re doing until it’s too late. You quickly deck the junior in the face.

His hands go straight to his face as he exclaims, “You broke my nose, you fucking bitch!”

Ms. Sandsmark quickly runs out of her classroom. The students gathered around you clear a path for her, some already turning and walking to their next classes.

“Miss Lance, Mr. Armorr, principal’s office. Now.”

•••

Laurel turns her head to look at you, a not-so-happy look on her face, “Shouldn’t you be in school, Y/N/N?”

“Nah… I kinda got suspended… Dad said I have to either stay with him at the precinct or with you,” you pick up a random file as you talk, scanning over it.

Your sister pulls it out of your hands, glaring at you as if to say ‘do it again, and you’ll lose a hand.’

“What’d you do this time,” she sighs.

You look down, a small frown taking over, “Someone said something about Sara and I snapped…” you whisper.

Laurel takes a deep breath before pulling you into a hug. You’re not really sure why she says it, or why you react the way you do, but you struggle to hold back a cry as she says, “I’m sorry.”

After a moment Laurel releases you and goes back to picking up her case files as Joanna approaches.

“Laurel, I just got this from Hunt’s lawyers,” Joanna hands Laurel another file. “They filed a change of venue. We are now in front of Judge Grell.”

You walk behind them, barely paying attention to what they’re saying as you respond to a text from a friend.

“Hunt funded Grell’s reelection campaign,” Laurel adds. Joanna hums in sarcastic agreement. “He’s got Grell in his back pocket.”

Joanna wraps her arm around Laurel, “You know, it’s fun being your friend. I get to say I told you so a lot.”

You can’t help but laugh as Laurel rebuts, “No. Adam Hunt is not smarter than we are.”

“No, he’s just richer and willing to commit multiple felonies.”

Laurel stops and turns around, pointing at Joanna. “We don’t need to go outside the law-”

“To find justice. Your dad’s favorite jingle.” Laurel winks at you as Joanna finishes for her.

You, once again, roll your eyes at the two. Before you can interject with your own statement, you and Laurel freeze as you see what- who is in front of the bulletin board.

“Hello, Laurel. Speartip,” Oliver says. You let out a nervous laugh - though it’s more of just a puff of air - at the nickname. You give him a twitch of a half-smile as your eyebrows furrow in concern for your sister (or Oliver, since you’re not sure if she’s gonna run, yell at him, or straight-up punch him in the face).

She catches you by surprise as she calmly states, “Jo, watch Y/N. Oliver and I need to talk,” without looking away from the former castaway.

“Wait, Laurel-” you cut yourself off, just barely avoiding Joanna as she tries to stop you from following the former couple.

“Thomas!” you yell in surprise as you all approach CNRI’s exit. You hear Joanna sigh from behind you as Laurel and Oliver give you confused looks. Tommy rolls his eyes.

“What’d I say about calling me that, Speartip?” he responds, unphased by your reaction to seeing him.

•••

“How’d you think that was gonna go, Tommy?” Laurel questions. You have to hide a grin at her attitude towards the playboy.

“‘Bout like that,” he responds as she briskly passes him.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Laurel orders as you hop off the railing.

•••

“Are you sure you wanna go, L?” you ask, handing your sister her bag as she walks by.

“Tommy asked me to go. I’m not gonna let the problems I have with Oliver get in the way of Tommy and I being friends.”

“Well… can I come?” You jump over the back of the couch, landing next to Laurel. “According to every social media account Thea has, she’s-”

“Thea is the youngest member of one of the richest families in Starling, you are the daughter of a cop and the sister of a defense attorney. Thea may be able to get away with breaking the law, but you certainly aren’t.”

•••

“If hypothetically, fifty-thousand dollars magically appear in your bank account, it might be best for you not to speak about it… to anyone, ever,” Laurel laughs at whatever the person on the other end says as your eyes widen. Joanna walks up to Laurel’s desk as Laurel says, “God bless you, too,” before hanging up.

“I just got a very grateful phone call from one of our clients against Adam Hunt.”

“Me, too.”

They both laugh before Joanna adds, “It looks like Starling City has a guardian angel.”

You look around as phones begin ringing from all around CNRI.

“By the way, your cute friend’s here.” With that, Joanna walks away. Laurel turns and stands up to see none other than Tommy Merlyn. You roll your eyes at his boyish grin.

•••

“You left the party pretty quick last night, even after I made sure the bar was stocked with pinot noir,” Tommy starts. You’re left to walk behind him and your sister as they talk.

“It wasn’t really my scene.”

“I thought maybe you and Oliver went mano a mano again.” You not-so-subtly cough, reminding them of your presence. You don’t need to hear about your sister’s sex life, even if it’s just Tommy jumping to conclusions, per usual.

They both stop to look back at you, Tommy sticks his tongue out as Laurel rolls her eyes.

“I saw you two head out,” Tommy adds as they continue walking.

“There’s nothing between Oliver and I, not anymore.”

“And here I thought the only thing between you and Oliver was us.”

“I wouldn’t exactly characterize us as an us, Tommy.”

Tommy quickly gets ahead of Laurel, forcing her to stop. You stay a few feet away from them, not wanting to interrupt whatever… this is.

“Then what would you call it?”

“A lapse.”

“That’s quite a few lapses,” you glare at Tommy. “Your place, my place, my place again.”

“Oh, I feel sick…” you mumble, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Shut it, Y/N,” Laurel teases. “Oh, come on, Merlyn. We both know that you’re not a one-girl type of guy.”

“Depends on the girl,” is Tommy’s attempt at a smooth response.

“Three things: one, I’m still here. Two, Laurel has a point. And three, real smooth Thomas, real smooth. Oh, and have I mentioned that I’m still here?”

“Nice try, Speartip. That was four things,” Tommy responds with a laugh.

“Oh look, the rich-boy can count below ten-thousand, astonishing! Plus, the last part was a continuation of my first point, so no. It wasn’t four things, you’re just dumb.”

“I have to go back to work,” Laurel says she turns around, grabbing your arm in the process.

“Dinah Laurel Lance,” Tommy starts. “Always trying to save the world.”

Laurel turns around once more, “Hey, if I don’t try and save it, who will?”

You smile proudly as you follow Laurel back to CNRI.

•••

A/N #3: oh, anyone recognize the name of the teacher and the student? and yeah i know it doesn’t entirely make sense to include that last scene, but like... you can’t have a story about the Lances without including “Dinah Laurel Lance, always trying to save the world,” now can you?

[cadenceoftherain]

I HAVE!! Nico going back home after an exhausting day at work (a storm outside) and then finding her best friend Karolina cooking in her kitchen - they aren’t roommates, Karo just have a key. “Bad day?” “Not anymore, not with you here.” and then after some fluff Karolina says she loves her and Nico freezes, Karo run away thinking that she made a mistake, she takes the elevator and leaves. Nico runs after her (she takes the stars because fuck she’s too late to stop the elevator now) and then +

I hope this is good, I wrote most of it with like three hours of sleep to claim 😂 this was fun though, my stuff usually drags forever and I feel like this could be a real learning opportunity. Thank you for the submission! 😘

_____________________________________________

Anger seethed from the very core of her being. Above, the sky was dumping buckets of rain, uncaring and joyful despite the utter misery of underprepared pedestrians. Footfalls squelched in soggy shoes and echoed against concrete and steel beams as Nico Minoru approached her apartment. She looked longingly at the elevator, but with the lightning she'd rather not risk getting stuck in it. Up two flights of stairs, who were now showing signs of being trampled often after nearly three years of tenancy, and she was home, ready to shed her sodden clothes and fall into the arms of her couch and not rise again until she had to go back to that godforsaken hell hole. 

Surely she was deserving of basic fucking human decency. Surely after working her ass off for three years she deserved some sort of "thank you" and that promotion would have been fantastic, but no. Not even a little pay raise had come her way. She had been raised to be persistent, to be stalwart and headstrong. Instead, she'd grown stubborn and proud and couldn't bear to hold her current position much longer. Her attributes would be put to better use elsewhere, she knew, and had been anxiously checking her email to see if a potential hire had taken a nibble at her resumé. 

Thunder struck and lightning flashed just as she reached her door, finally under the shelter of the awning. Her key slid in easily, but Nico saw there was no need upon opening the door. It was no unusual thing to come home and find her best friend hanging around. They'd had keys to each other's living spaces for years now, and could usually be found at one or the other at any given time.

Pop music could be heard from the kitchen, and very poor singing accompanied it. Something smelled amazing too, was that curry? God, she hoped it was curry. 

Once inside, Nico sloughed off her hoodie, soaked completely through before throwing it into the dryer. 

"Nico? That you?" A voice called, and Nico's heart lifted. The music paused as Karolina rounded the corner, a smile gracing her already angelic features. It quickly slipped, however, when she saw how badly Nico had fared in the storm. "I'll grab you some towels," 

"Thanks, Kar," Nico called to her retreating figure, and then decided she might as well throw everything else in the dryer too. Silently, she prayed her phone had survived. It was water-resistant, after all, but with the day she'd had…

By some divine power, her phone was spared, and she blew out a long, slow breath and continued stripping down. 

At least that's one positive thing for today, she thought. And I don't have to cook tonight. And it might be curry. 

Karolina returned with two fresh towels, blushing furiously when she caught Nico naked in the laundry room. She was grateful she had cooking to tend to as she made her way back to the kitchen, unwilling to let her eyes stray. "Bad day?" She called out, hoping Nico didn't notice how high her voice sounded. 

Nico, of course, did not. "Not anymore, with you here. Work fuckin' sucked though," she replied. "They passed me for promotion. Again. I've been there the longest and I've now trained all my supervisors." 

"I'm sorry," Karolina said, coming back from the kitchen satisfied the chicken wasn't in danger of burning. She should have stayed there, however. 

One towel wrapped around Nico's waist, the other was on her head as she dried her hair, leaving a very naked, very toned, torso completely bare and covered in goosebumps. 

Clearing her throat, she kept her eyes strictly trained on Nico's face. "Well, I'd hoped we'd be having a celebratory dinner tonight, but that's okay, we can drink and hope for better tomorrow." 

Nico had to laugh at that. "As soon as I get an offer, an attractive offer or even a mediocre offer, I'm quitting. Then we can really celebrate. What are you cooking?" 

"Your favorite." 

Nico smiled fully then, any dark moods or thoughts forgotten. "Thank the Goddess above, I love you."

Karolina's heart flipped in her chest. 

"It'll be ready soon if you want to get some clothes on. Should be done by the time you get back." 

With the promise of hot curry, Nico bolted to her bedroom. 

Karolina took the time to put the finishing touches on the dish and make their plates, being generous with Nico's portions. In the dining room, she set the table and poured wine, this time her favorite blackberry bottle, and lit a few candles. 

Nico returned a few minutes after and glanced down at her choice of dress. It was nothing special, just leggings and a faded T-shirt. "I feel underdressed." 

Karolina chuckled. "It's just dinner, Nico." 

"It was just dinner, then you added wine and candles," she retorted, but took her seat all the same. After a day like hers, she was not going to waste time when she had curry in front of her. 

They are in companionable silence, Nico savoring every bite and Karolina savoring her enthusiasm. When they were finished, they moved into the living room with their wine and the bottle. 

Nico is finally relaxed now, leaned back against the cushions as the wine found its way to her bloodstream. 

"I really appreciate this, Kar," Nico murmurs. She was warm and dry now, and perhaps a touch wine-drunk. Had it been two glasses? One? She wasn't sure, but something about wine always had her feeling looser than it should. She didn't mind it, though. 

The other blushed lightly and sipped from her glass. She could hold her wine more easily, but her nerves had her stomach tied in knots. The wine felt thick in her throat and acidic in her mouth. 

"I certainly don't mind, but I wish it were under better circumstances." 

"Eh, one day," Nico sighed. 

"There's something I'd like to talk with you about," Karolina began, building her nerve. She carefully leaned forward and set her glass on the coffee table, facing Nico fully. 

Whatever wine-haze she'd found quickly fled as she grew nervous. "What's going on? Is everything okay?" 

"Everything's fine, I just need to tell you something." 

"Okay…?" Nico arched a brow. 

"I… I'm proud of you." Karolina diverted suddenly. "You probably don't hear that at your job very often, but I can see how much you care, and thought you should know someone appreciates you." 

Nico was touched, but still cautious. "I… thank you, Kar. I feel like there might have been more--" 

"And I love you." She rushed out, her heart pounding in her chest.

The girl balked. "I love you, too, Karrie." She said softly. It was no unusual thing to express feelings of love and familiarity, but this was different. Somehow. Karolina was watching her carefully, almost frightfully, afraid to sit too close or speak too softly.

A deep part of her swooned at that nickname, but she couldn't let herself get distracted by it. "I mean… I've felt this way for… a while now and I wanted to be honest with you about it… I'm in love with you Nico." 

Ocean eyes were pleading as Nico stared back at her blankly, then with startling clarity as the words sank in. 

"Oh. Oh. Oh, fuck."

And her heart shattered. 

"You know what, just don't even worry about it, it's probably just wine talking, you know how wine gets you lusty, but I should probably just go, I'll, um, I'll call you tomorrow." And she was gone, before Nico could attempt to throw a complete sentence together. 

"No, Kar, I lamp--oh fuck," she said, scrambling to stand. She hastily threw on shoes and raced to the walkway where the distinct ding of the elevator solidified her fear. 

She had to race the elevator, and she was the slightest bit tipsy. She bolted down the stairs, nearly wiping out had it not been for the handrail, and desperately searched for Karolina. The rain was impossibly heavier now, hammering against asphalt and roof alike. It was hard to see, but she'd only been a few seconds late. 

"Karolina!" She called, desperate to shout over the cacophony of rain and thunder to no avail. The girl kept walking, shoulders hunched in the onslaught of rain. "Karolina!" She tried again, taking leaping strides to catch up with her. She finally made it, her hand wrapping around Karolina's wrist as she tugged her to a stop.

She turned, her tears hidden by rain. "Nico, it's okay really, I can get over it just-" 

Nico had to stretch up on her toes to reach, but she was just tall enough to capture Karolina's lips. She halted any further thought, and the world fell away. She was warm against her, though wet, too. Her lips were impossibly soft and she wondered how sweet her mouth was. Daringly, she darted out the tip of her tongue, begging entrance.

Karolina obliged, her hands coming up to cup Nico's face gingerly. She swooned when she felt Nico's arms wrap around her waist, pulling her closer as her tongue slipped past her lips. It was hungry, but not forceful. Desperate, but not needy. 

Breaking away, Karolina pressed her forehead to the other's, breathing unsteadily. Neither spoke for a moment, content to hold and be held while rain poured over top of them. 

"How long?" Nico asked softly. 

A gentle chuckle shook her form. "Always? I didn't… I didn't know if you'd reciprocate, and I didn't want to lose you…" 

"Karrie, I've had a crush on you since the third grade." Nico admitted, pulling back to meet the girl's eyes. "Every year for Valentine's day, I made a card for you. Everyone else got the standard drugstore, fill-out-the-names-and-throw-some-candy-in-it cards, but not you. Never you. And I continued that into high school and college in the name of some silly tradition, but really to comfort myself and the idea that I might never get to give you one for real. So I would pretend one day out of the year. I didn't want to lose you either, I didn't want to scare you." 

That was deep. Deeper than expected. Karolina could only listen with rapt attention and kiss her again. "You've really crushed on me since third grade?" 

Nico laughed, the sound music to Karolina. "Yes, really. I've loved you for a long time, Kar." 

She couldn't resist another kiss. And another. And another. Thrilled that she could, thrilled that it was wanted, that she didn't have to ignore the fire in her chest anymore. 

"Why don't we go back inside?" Nico asked, her lips teasing the edge of the blonde's jaw. "We can get dried off again and talk about what we'd like to do, or we can just see how it plays out. Either way, I have pajamas with your name on them, a bottle of wine, and a queen-sized bed with no one to share it with." 

Karolina chuckled at that, and stole one more kiss. "I'd love nothing more." 

FIN

[sheilarice1]

(Silver Death - Part 5)

Car Rides and Memories:

On the way into town I drive and Widow watches me from the corner of her eye. I can tell that she and Scarlett are having a conversation in their heads, just by the small nods Widow is giving every so often.

It's rather strange going to town in complete silence. I always have the radio or the music I have saved to my phone going so I don't have to deal with silence.

Getting into town and getting out of my truck anyone near looks at us.

I don't go to town very often, and when I do I always keep my hood up and head down because I don't like people seeing my face, or becoming familiar with me.

These girls are different.

Hoods down, and chins held high, accepting the looks they are given.

"Over there is the Bargain shop. Over there is CP Casuals. Up the street is Mal's. I will be in the grocery store. Good luck." Pointing to each shop as I say its name I leave the girls alone.

They go and get clothes.

I don't worry about where they go knowing they can handle themselves.

I go to the grocery store and get food knowing that I must be getting low with the extra mouths to feed.

With lots of healthy stuff in my cart I wander towards a section I rarely go to; the junk food.

I despise junk food. It's fatty and makes you lazy. HYDRA hated food like this. It is one of the few things I agree with them about.

Knowing that Thor wanted pop tarts I get 3 different kinds not knowing what kind he likes. The kinda I get are: strawberry, smores and blueberry.

Getting chips, dip, pop, and a few other things from this section I pay and leave the store after being in it for over 45 minutes.

Loading my haul into the box of the truck I can see the girls leaving the store across the street from me with three bags each.

They ignore me and walk to the next store that I had pointed out. Rolling my eyes I follow them and hold my hands out to take there bags once they notice me behind them.

Slowly they hand them over. They obviously don't trust me. I am fine with that. I do not need anyone other than Winter to trust me. I don't want anyone to get hurt by having people I trust betray me.

"I will wait in the vehicle."

"Are you not getting anything?"

"No Scarlett. I am fine with the clothes I have. Besides. I was not the one needing the trip in. I simply wanted to observe how you two were somewhere other than my house."

"You know Silver that's really creepy. Like, were you trying to see if we trusted you? Cause the answer is no."

"Natasha! Don't be so-"

"No. I don't care if you trust me. It would be wiser if you didn't. I just wanted to see if you would stick near me or stay together. I will be in the vehicle."

Turning I could feel their eyes on the back of my head.

I was mad that she called me creepy considering we had almost the same upbringing.

(Natasha's pov)

"Why would you say that Nat? You made her mad."

"Well sorry. I wanted to know what her reaction would be. Now, next store?"

"Do you think she's going to be fine on her own?"

"Seriously Wanda. She been in her own for how long? She'll be fine."

"Okay."

** time skip cause I suck at writing**

Walking out of the store with bags and Wanda in tow I head back to the vehicle we came into town in. Halfway across the large parking lot I can start to hear music. Knowing that it's from Silver's vehicle I guessed that what I said upset her.

With Wanda glaring at me we approach the vehicle putting our bags in the box of the truck and I get into the front while Wanda gets in the back.

The music had been turned off as soon as the tailgate of the truck had been opened. Silence seemed to bother the ex- HYDRA assassin.

Pulling out of the parking lot we turn onto the highway and begin our 40minute drive back to our 'safe house' in silence. Not being able to take the silence anymore Silver makes a swift move to turn her music back on to the same song that was playing before.

"See you made her sad when you said you didn't trust her."

"You're the one that can't get in her head. Is it not bothering you that you can't see her memories?"

"Yes it is. But I think she's doing it for my own good. I can understand the reasoning to why she won't let me in."

"And what's her reasoning then?"

Realizing that I said this out loud I sneak a glance at Silver who only has an eyebrow raised slightly because of my random words.

(Silver's P.O.V)

Turning off the music I stare out the windshield and say

"If you mean the reason I won't let Scarlet into my head it's because of the things I've done. The killing without mercy. And the treatments and procedures I have gone through. I don't want her to experience that."

"What have you been through to be scared for her? To be scared for her of you?"

"I killed my father. And I killed so many women and children that were in my way and innocent. She doesn't need to see that. It would easily harm her mind."

"Okay. So show her some better moments in your life."

"I have little memory of a time where there was no blood shed, torture, or pain."

No one said anything.

After a few minutes of silence Widow slowly leaned forward and turned my music on, so a new song came on.

Letting the music play I watch the gravel road and the trees on either side. I can Feel Scarlett watching me through the rear-view mirror, and am able to see Widow watching me from the corner of her eye.

I try finding a memory that's not painful while maintaining the wall that blocks Scarlett out.

Finally finding one I look at Scarlett through the mirror and tap my head. Raising an eyebrow Widow looks in the back seat to find Scarlett with her eyes glued to the mirror.

Realizing I had forgotten to allow her into my head I try to drop my walls.

"Now try."

**The Memory**

Winter and I are sitting on the roof of a HYDRA base that was beginning to shut down and move. The base had been getting to large and was drawing unwanted attention.

Winter and I had snuck out of our shared cell after the key master- a nickname Winter and I had pinned on our main guard- had drunkly forgot to lock the cell after Winter came back from a mission.

It was a warm day. Well as warm as you can get for Russia. Sitting side by side Winter and I were having a silent conversation.

With a few nudges I finally got him to tell me where he went.

"США" the USA.

"Зачем" Why?

"убить человека, который помог создать Капитан Америка" to kill the man who helped create Captain America.

"это был успех" was it a success?

"К сожалению" unfortunately.

"Can we speak in English? It is harder for others to eavesdrop that way."

"Of course."

"Winter. I don't want to be a killer anymore. I want to be normal."

"Don't speak like that. I know you want to be normal but since I've been training you I have seen the higher ups watching. They would make us immortal if they could. So they could have killers that know each other and never die."

"It's stupid, how we're always being sent off to do someone else's bidding. How you get erased and yelled at. Your words. My words. All of this is stupid."

"I know Silver. But until we can escape we will have to continue."

"I know Winter bu-"

I stop short when I start hearing someone coming up the stairs to the roof.

"пришло время уйти." It is time to move out.

"на нашем пути сэр." On our way sir.

No matter who it was you always said 'sir or on rare occasions ma'am.'

Standing Winter and I follow key master down the stairs through our base and into a room we knew to well.

The Freezing Room.

I turn to Winter my eyes wide. He looks sad and scared.

They start to put him in his tube and I resist. He hates it in there.

"Det" five

"Рис" rice

"мечи" Swords

"отец" father

"ребенок" child

"пуля" bullet

"Канада" Canada

"Серебряный" silver

"готовы соблюдать" ready to comply

With I horrified look on Winter's face I stop resisting key master and his friends shoving as they shove Winter into his tube.

"шаг в свой собственный убийца трубки" step into your own tube assassin.

Stepping into the tube and turning to face the door only to have it slam loudly breaking the words hold on me, I begin to panic

I try to get out.

But my arms had been strapped down.

It was starting to get extremely cold within my tube. There was ice already forming in Winters. Realizing I couldn't get out of this I didn't even try to use my abilities seemingly forgetting I had them.

I end up blacking out.

**Memory over**

"Winter took care of you."

"He was and is the only person trust in this messed up world."

"When were you unfrozen after that?"

Not realizing that Scarlett had projected the memory to Widow I am confused to here her words.

"Wanda showed me."

"Ah. Well I am not sure when it was. But I was sent to track Scarlett after she joined the avengers. Then I was sent out on a different mission when I reported back."

"That was to get rid of the Hulk?"

"You are correct Widow."

"What- what did you tell them of me?" Scarlett practically whispered trying to ask her question.

"I believe that I said that you were in good hands. It earned me a slap and then a few good hits from a confused Winter. But I know I didn't tell them where you were. When I saw you you seemed happy. You seemed to belong there."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

The rest of the ride home was quiet but comfortable.

[cavendishtogopls]

White Roses and Witches [whiterose x diakko]

[I just want my daily dose of fluffy WR and diakko so I decided to make my own]

It was a lazy day for both Diana and Akko. Even with all of Akko's craziness and excess energy, it was pouring outside. Not just pitter patter on the window pane but it was almost as if it were hail droplets hitting the roof. And as much as Diana would love to get some of her anatomy homework out of the way, it was hard to do so with her so called girlfriend begging for her attention one way or another.

Diana found herself sitting up against the headboard of her bed, wearing one of Akko's hideously bright orange sweater that she wouldn't be caught dead in and mostly wore it for the brunette's familiar scent, said brunette tucked comfortably in her arms, wearing Diana's Cavendish Medical Group sweater a tad oversized for her.

Akko was happily shoving popcorn by the mouthful and Diana only rolled her eyes in distaste, tired of reprimanding her stubborn girlfriend. Akko, after discovering that Diana has yet to watch a Disney movie, took it upon herself to reminisce Diana's childhood or her lack thereof. Diana thinks Akko just want to watch Disney movies but obliged since there's no use arguing with her girlfriend anyway. Diana doesn't want to admit it's because she likes the way Akko's eyes light up when talking about something she likes. Even if it's about a clownfish getting lost at sea and traveling across the world, which seems preposterous to Diana as clownfish weren't genetically suited to travel such lengths even though she has to admit tears were shed.

Oh how the mighty Diana Cavendish has fallen. God, if her cousin Weiss would see her now, that little white haired devil would make her a laughingstock. Andrew wouldn't be any better.

"Princess?" Akko turned to face her when the credits start rolling, probably catching the small frown she as.

Akko was almost too happy to cuddle up to the crook of Diana's neck, breathing her in, sending tingles on Diana's spine. Diana run a careful hand through Akko's messy hair, getting rid of that ridiculous ponytail she seems to love so much.

"Is something bothering you, love?" Diana whispered softly. Akko hummed in response.

Akko was almost half asleep now, she opened her eyes to look at cerulean blues gazing lovingly at her. Akko lazily smiled back.

"Nothing, princess. You look deep in thought" Akko touched the crease on Diana's forehead, the way Diana would flick hers when she gets into all sorts of trouble.

Diana doesn't get tired of hearing Akko call her that stupid nickname from their first year in Luna Nova that started as an insult and ended up being the brunette's permanent nickname for her. To her credit Diana does not know she would fall for Akko in the first place. Diana smiled, Akko seems to know her best even after only coming into her life in just a few years. To be honest, if you told Diana she would be in a relationship with an irresponsible witch with the semblance to attract trouble like magnets and the same one who declared war on Diana the minute she set foot on Luna Nova, well to say you would be turned into a toad would be an understatement.

Akko placed a soft kiss on Diana's lips. She was about to pull away when Diana pulled her closer, deepening the kiss, capturing Akko's lips between hers, savoring the sweet salty tang of the caramel flavored popcorn. Akko found herself sitting up on Diana's lap. How that happened, Diana doesn't know. Akko looks right at her, crimson eyes searching.

"You're distracted today, what's up?" Diana smiled and kissed Akko's forehead.

"Nothing, love. Reminiscing our first days in Luna Nova. If you told me you'd be my girlfriend then, I would've turned you into a frog then and there." Diana laughed softly.

Akko gulped.

"Uhh... Diana you kinda did." Akko laughs nervously. Diana frowned.

"Really? Whatever for?" Diana's eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, remember when you had those night patrols when you were still a prefect. I was out late practicing my metamorphosis spell when Finnelan showed up and instead of dragging me somewhere to hide like a normal person, you turned me into a frog." Akko grumbled poutily. It's not like she could get mad at Diana. She did save her an earful of and detention from Finnelan.

"It was your fault for being out so late, Akko." Diana laughed. "I was trying to save you from trouble"

"By turning me into a frog!" Akko pouted and got up from Diana's lap. Diana secured her before she could get anywhere, peppering kisses over Akko's face and neck, tickling the brunette, making her giggle.

"Dianaaaaaa... It tickles. Stop." Akko says through a bunch of giggles.

"Forgive me?" Diana put on her best innocent look that always made Akko falter.

"Okay, princess." Akko relented. Diana smiled. "BUT, first you have to buy me ice cream." Akko grinned a toothy smile at her perplexed girlfriend.

"Ice cream? In this weather?" Diana looks at her girlfriend's best puppy look, threatening to make her crumble.

"Yup." Akko said popping the p sound. Diana was helpless against it.

"Akko, it's pouring outside." Diana shook her head. It's just like Akko to do this. Diana shouldn't even be surprised by the amount of times they went out late at night just to satisfy the Japanese witch's cravings. Diana Cavendish, Heiress to the Cavendish legacy a mere helpless chauffer to her very convincing girlfriend.

"Pleaseeeeeeeee Princess. Pretty please?" Akko's puppy eyes intensifies. Diana sighs. There goes her last shred of dignity and honestly Diana doesn't care. She'll do anything to make the brunette happy even if it means battling the weather to get her girlfriend her damned ice cream.

"Okay, fine. Anything for you, love. Get dressed. I'll fetch the car keys." Akko grinned brightly and gave Diana a smack on the lips before pulling her up along with her.

"Thanks, princess. I love you." Diana rolled her eyes, knowing she probably has to stop spoiling Akko so much. But who cares, it's her job as Akko's girlfriend.

"Where do you even get all the energy?" Diana pockets the car keys and puts on her coat.

"My love for you Miss Cavendish" Akko returned playfully earning her a blush and an eyeroll from the blonde.

"Well, aren't you getting dressed?" Diana's eyebrows raised seeing Akko not making a move to change out of her ridiculously short shorts. It's got to be freezing out and no way in hell is her girl going out dressed like that.

"What for? We're going to buy ice cream Diana and we're taking your car to the nearest convenience store" Akko shrugs. Diana hates to agree but for once her lovely dork of a girlfriend has a point. Be that as it may, apparently Akko has no idea how incredibly attractive she is. Diana makes a note to remind her of that everyday.

"Love, there are people there. Checking you out." Diana says sternly. Akko walked in front of Diana, locking her arms around Diana's nape, tiptoeing to lightly kiss the space between her girlfriend's creased eyebrows, making the blonde sigh.

"And they'll know I'm yours, princess. I'll kiss you in front of anyone who dares to stare. I promise." Akko reassures the blonde heiress. "Come on, I want my ice cream." Akko pulled at Diana's hand. Diana could only follow her girlfriend's lead. She's that whipped for her. And she isn't even complaining.

The rain was pounding against Diana's pristine white Mazda6, making her extra careful with driving since the road tends to be slippery around these parts when raining. They stopped at the first store they found, Akko bolting from the passenger seat without even bothering for an umbrella. Diana had to race after the dork, chiding her when she caught up to her.

The moment they reached the ice cream fridge, Akko was at an impasse. Reese's flavored ice cream, strawberry shortcake flavored and blueberry cheesecake flavored.

"So, which one do you want?" Diana was about to take out a tub of blueberry cheesecake when another pair of hands reached for it.

Diana looked at the hands of the the ice cream thief, trailing up to the face, to meet curious silver eyes looking at her. Diana has never seen someone with silver eyes before.

"Wow. You're like an angel" the silver eyed ice cream thief giggles. Diana can't help the blush from her cheeks at the honest compliment. "Sorry, do you want that?"

"Oh no, it's alright. You can have it." Diana rejects the ice cream being handed to her and smiles at the girl. She had red tipped raven hair, a cute puppy smile very much like Akko's and was wearing a gray sweater with the Schnee Dust Company logo embroidered on the left chest side of it.

Diana was about to ask if the girl knew of a certain white haired heiress when she found herself enclosed in the arms of a certain Japanese witch. Diana turns to look at her girlfriend, only to see the girl wasn't looking at her but was glaring daggers at the girl in front of her, who was squirming under Akko's glare.

"I turn around for 5 minutes. 5 minutes Ruby Rose and you're already nowhere to be found, you dolt." A white haired girl stormed over to them, bearing a huge bag of chocolate chip cookies.

"WEISSSSSSSSS" Ruby threw herself in the arms of the white haired heiress. Weiss rolled her eyes at her partner's antics.

"Weiss?" Diana spoke after getting over the initial shock of seeing her friend here.

"Diana?" The white haired heiress looked their way, puzzled.

"Akko!" Akko grinned feeling much better seeing as she doesn't feel so threatened anymore as the Ruby girl was with someone after all.

"Excuse her, Schnee. She's a dork" Diana grins softly at her girl. "This is Akko Kagari, my girlfriend. I didn't expect I'd meet you here in such circumstances. And is that who I think it is?" Diana smirked at Weiss. Hearing enough of the silver eyed girl from her childhood best friend. Weiss only rolled her eyes playfully.

"Oh please, Cavendish. It's not like you're any better with that girlfriend of yours. Glad to make your acquaintance Miss Kagari, if you must know, Diana here talks an awful lot about you." Weiss held a hand out to Akko, to which the brunette shook gleefully.

"You do?" Akko grins happily at her blushing girlfriend.

"If you must know, the conversation we have about you is minimal" Diana glares at her friend, Weiss only laughing it off.

"Amazingggg, Weiss. You even talk like each other" Ruby giggles and turns to Akko. "Is that a rich person thing? I'm Ruby Rose by the way, Weiss' partner. I swear I'm not trying to make a move on your girlfriend." Ruby tries to explain which earned her a hand on pinching her ear.

"What is that supposed to mean?" Weiss is holding Ruby by the ear.

"Oh no, it's nothing really, Weiss. She just called me an angel, that's all." Diana teased the white haired one further, knowing the full brunt of Weiss' anger and jealousy.

"Ow, but she is." Ruby pouts. "Look she has cute cabbage hair" Ruby points out, to which Akko just laughs at her girlfriend's expense.

"Ruby! That's rude." Weiss chastised her partner.

"Akko, why are you laughing and not defending my honor?" Diana raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend expectantly, to which the brunette just laughs.

"She has a point, princess. You do have cabbage hair." Akko ruffles said hair much to Diana's annoyance.

"Well, you could say she's your Cabbage-dish" Ruby giggles and Akko laughs alongside her.

"Good one." Akko high fives Ruby to which the other obliged.

Diana and Weiss' gaze met and they simultaneously groaned. Now they remembered why they didn't even talk about meeting together with their girls even with Beacon Academy being a small distance away from Luna Nova, having not one but two sugar induced hyperactive beings such as Akko and Ruby in mere vicinity of each other is chaos in the making.

"I can't believe they met." Diana groans, watching the two animatedly talk to each other about God knows what. "Weiss what have we done."

"Knowing Ruby, it's a miracle they haven't broken anything yet. What are you here for anyway?" Weiss took the tub of ice cream, Ruby held earlier.

"Akko just wanted ice cream." Diana reaches for the strawberry shortcake flavored tub. "I assume Ruby as well?"

"Not exactly, we ran out of cookies and Ruby refuses to live in a cookie-free environment for a long time." Weiss sighs.

"Never imagined you'd be with someone like Ruby" Diana snickers at how much her childhood friend detests being disturbed when studying, if Ruby was anything like Akko, she could only imagine how it was like for the two as well.

"Oh, we're not together-together." Weiss comments. "She's my partner."

"Right, tell me again does this partner relationship involves cuddling a lot and buying them ice cream and cookies?" Diana teases and was rewarded with a blush.

"Well, not exactly. But you're one to talk seeing as how you're with Akko" Weiss turned the table.

"At least I'm already dating Akko." Diana smirks.

"Yes, she is!" As if on cue, Akko appears next to her gf and kissed her on the cheeks.

"Hey, love. Got your ice cream." Diana smiles at Akko.

"Thanks princess. You're the best."

Weiss was not impressed at this obvious powerplay Diana was clearly winning when she was wrapped in a warm embrace from her partner. Weiss glanced back at the slightly taller girl.

"What on earth are you doing, you dolt?" Weiss raised an eyebrow but Ruby doesn't seem to be intimated, Weiss made no move to get away from her partner anyway.

"Akko-senpai told me that she and Diana does a lot of things similar with what we do. except they're dating and we're not." Ruby's eyebrows were creased looking at the other couple completely lost in each other's presence. Then Ruby turned to look at Weiss with the warm, curious silver eyes, Weiss seems to love about her.

"Weiss, why aren't we dating?" Ruby asked curiously.

"Y-you dolt- do you even know what you're saying" Weiss blushed and stuttered through her sentence, Diana, who was listening in can't help the small smile on her face at her friend's pitiful state.

"I mean they're dating, why not us too?" Ruby asked seriously, Weiss gulped in nervousness. She can't possibly be serious.

"Diana and Akko like each other, you dolt. I'd go even as far and say they're in love with each other." Weiss pointed out, Ruby let's go of her partner momentarily as she moves in front of her.

"I don't see any problem with that. I like you. Don't you like me?" The hurt in Ruby's voice made Weiss flinch.

"O-of course I like you, you're my partner." Weiss stutters, trying and failing to hide a blush.

"Weiss... you know what I mean." Ruby sighs.

"Yes" Weiss mumbles. Ruby didn't seem to hear so repeated more loudly. "Yes, I like you. Not just as a friend or a partner, happy now? you dolt." Ruby takes Weiss' hand in hers.

"I'm not sure about love, Weiss. I've never really thought about it but what I'm sure of is that I care about you a lot, you're easily an important part of my life and I want to make you happy, if you'll let me." Ruby shyly rubs a hand on her nape, a gesture that usually tells the younger girl is nervous and shy. "So what do you say to going out on a date with me, partner?"

Weiss smiles, taking Ruby's other hand in hers, lifting it gently to her lips as she places a barely there kiss on the back of Ruby's hand. "Partners" Weiss breathes. "In every sense of the word."

"You sure they're going to be fine?" Akko asks, she couldn't pick between the Reese's and strawberry ice cream.

"It's Weiss Schnee, love. We grew up almost in the same limelight, being pitted against each other. Only Weiss and I ended up being good friends after we got over our high horses. At one point, our parents thought we were dating." Diana laughs at that.

"yeah no, you two are too much alike that'd be weird. You could totally pass as sisters too" Akko shakes her head.

"In a way we are, I was without siblings and Weiss' sister was already in Atlas Academy as she was growing up."

"How come you never mentioned you were friends with a filthy rich heiress with white hair and a cool scar!" Diana coughs and raised an eyebrow at her girlfriend.

"Jeez, Diana. I only mean like how could you not let me know about Weiss if you're such good friends." Akko defended much to Diana's amusement.

"So you don't find her attractive or anything?" how Diana was enjoying this.

"Of course I do!" Akko says much too quickly. "I mean... Uhh... I don't! But she has a cool scaaaaar!" Akko whines pitifully under her girlfriend's icy glare. "You were pretty taken with Ruby earlier too" Akko pouts in accusation.

"It was the first time I saw silver eyes." Diana says dismissively but Akko was relentless.

"I bet you think the red hair was cute too" Akko grumbles, stomping over to the cashier holding both the tubs as she couldn't decide.

"It was." Diana admits, Akko's jaw dropped. Diana stole a quick kiss, shutting out whatever it is that Akko would've said next. "But you're way cuter, love. Stop grumbling like a child and let's get everything. I want to cuddle all day with my cute girlfriend."

"You're silly, Diana" Akko laughs and pulled her down for a mind numbing kiss. Her nose and lips cold from the harsh weather outside. Akko pulled away, leaving the blonde breathless.

Akko was in her sweater, hair messy from being in bed the whole afternoon. Yet in that moment Diana knew she wouldn't want to do anything in this world but to be with this girl in front of her. She knew she could never love anyone the way she loved Akko in their past years of being together, the way she loves Akko at this exact moment and the way she's going to love Akko for every day of her life. Diana knew she's going to fall deeper in love with the brunette everyday and she wouldn't have it any other way.

They were just looking for ice cream but it seems to Diana she found the person she could spend the rest of her life with.