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novaiya · 3 years

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Arthur Morgan x Reader NSFW Alphabet

AO3 Link.

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Arthur’s very lovey-dovey after sex. He’ll shower you in kisses and hold your body so close to his that you’ll feel his heartbeat. Affection is something he craves, and that hunger will only grow tenfold as the post-coital bliss washes over him. Falling asleep with you by his side, your naked body pressed against his, your head on his chest feels like home to him, where he can be free and safe.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He loves his arms and hands. Not only are they a powerful tool that he uses on the daily to kill, rob, and steal, they also come in handy (hehe) in the bedroom. He’ll run his hands all over your body, pinching, touching, twisting. The feeling of your skin under his fingers is intoxicating, and so is the knowledge that it’s his touch that can make you moan and writhe in pleasure.

When it comes to you, it’s hard for him to pick just one favorite aspect. He loves every part of you, from your legs, to your hips and your waist, to your breasts and of course your face. If he absolutely has to choose, then he’ll pick your waist. He feels content when he has his hand on your waist, bringing you close to him and feeling your body next to his, be it when the two of you are out, or simply sitting by the campfire in camp.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves coming inside of you, be it in your mouth or your pussy. There’s just something so intimate and romantic in the feeling of being enveloped by your warm walls as he reaches his own release.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He likes to be dominated from time to time. It’s easy to understand; Arthur always has to take the lead, be the protector and the leader of the gang, making sure the people are safe and fed. It’s a lot of responsibility, and it weighs heavy on his shoulders. Sometimes he just wants to let go and have somebody else be in control. This want seeps into your intimate life, and at first, he’s embarrassed to voice it. He’s so used to being the strong, masculine outlaw that he’s not sure how to be anything else but that. You sense that something is wrong, so after a lot of prying and kissing he relents and tells you what he’s been thinking. He’s expecting you to laugh at him and dismiss his thoughts as silly, but you don’t. You ask if that’s what he really wants, and he nods. The night takes a completely different turn, with you having your way with Arthur, taking control of his pleasures. You’ll have him on the edge, teasing him relentlessly only to not give him what he needs.

“You think you deserve to cum?” you’ll say, nipping at his ear. “Think you’ve been good?”

He’ll moan your name, bucking his hips towards you and say, “Please.”

“That’s Madame for you,” you’ll correct him.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

You wanna thank the woman (or women) who taught Arthur what he knows. From sucking on your clit, to hitting your G spot and nipping on your neck, the man knows every secret in the book that will have your toes curling and your eyes roll to the back of your head. Another great thing about him is that not only is he experienced, but he’s open to learning and trying something new. He’s not the type of man to get upset if you correct him on his technique. If you don’t like something and tell him to do it differently, he’s more than happy to correct himself. Your pleasure is more important than his ego.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

With you on your stomach and him on top, fucking you into the mattress. He loves the classic such as missionary and cowgirl during which he can see your face, but there’s something so intimate in being pressed so close against you, his chest touching your back.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Arthur is somewhere in the middle, leaning more towards serious. He can laugh during the process, but more often than not he’s concentrated, lost in pleasure and lust.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Arthur is hairy all over; from his head to his chest to his legs, and, well, there too. If it bothers you, he has no problem trimming down there, but he himself doesn’t care.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

During your love making (and it is love making, not fucking (thought that happens too sometimes)), he’s very romantic, making sure to tell you, “You’re so beautiful” and “I love you so much, darlin’.” He’ll shower your body in kisses, worshiping you like the goddess you are, kissing every inch of skin and murmuring praises and love confessions. The time you spend in each other's arms, bringing each other pleasure is not only about satisfying your carnal desires, it’s about being close, becoming one and showing just how much you love each other. It’s a process that neither of you want to rush, sometimes spending hours in each other’s arms, proving your love all. night. long.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

The two of you spend almost every waking hour together, but sometimes there are jobs that Arthur has to do alone (like bounty hunting or collecting debts). Some of those jobs are quick, and if he leaves in the morning he’s back in camp right before supper to spend the night with you. Others, however, can stretch for days, even longer if his destination is way out in the country. When he’s away from you for that long, taking himself in his hand is all he can do. He’ll wrap his fingers around his cock, starting with slow up and down movements, imagining it’s your hand and not his. He’ll bring to memory the image of your naked body under his, the sound of your voice moaning his name and the feeling of your walls spasming around him. If he’s alone, he’ll moan your name under his breath, his cock twitching in his hand as he’s nearing his release. With a cry of your name he’ll come, spilling himself on the ground, his hand working his cock to push every drop out.

It’s not the same as having you with him, that’s for sure, but it’ll have to do before he can have the real you in-front of him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Light bondage. He enjoys tying you up, like your hands behind your back or your hands to the bedpost. If the two of you are in a particular mood, he might even tie up your legs. After telling you his “dirty secret”, he enjoys being the one tied up as well. Both of you know he can get out of the ties easily, break the rope with just a flex of his muscles, but it’s the knowledge that he’s tied down and at your mercy that turns him on.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Somewhere that has a full sized bed (preferably a king sized one). As much as he enjoys the cozy atmosphere of his tent and the familiarity of his cot, it can be a bit annoying with two full sized adults trying to go at it on a bed that was made only for one person.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

He loves hearing you moan his name, the sound of it coming broken and shaky from your lips. Feeling your legs shake, your body writhe and your hands holding on to him for support is his biggest motivation to work harder to bring you to your release, wanting nothing more than to see you fall apart to his touch.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degradation and physical abuse. A spank on your ass here and there is okay, and so is dirty talk, but nothing that crosses a line into actual degradation and physical abuse.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Homeboy loves getting his dick sucked. Having you on your knees with his cock in your mouth is one of the images that warms up his soul when he’s alone and away from you.

As far as giving, he enjoys it, and can spend hours between your thighs, lapping at your like you’re his last meal. He enjoys how you are when you’re nearing your release, your thighs shaking on his shoulders, your fingers holding on to his hair and holding him where you need him. Once your orgasm washes over you and you’re laying on the bed, panting, your eyes closed, he’ll emerge from between your legs, licking his lips, a satisfied smirk on them.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Arthur prefers slow, sensual lovemaking to rough and fast fucking any day of the week. He enjoys dragging his cock in and out of your pussy, the slow strokes driving you insane. His pace would be slow, but it would be deep and intense, making you see stars each time he hits a spot inside of you.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With how often Arthur has to go on jobs, quickies are a necessity in your relationship. Sometimes, he’ll only be in camp for an hour or two before heading back out, so as much as he’d love to pull down the flaps of his tent and ravish your body for hours on end, a quickie is all he can afford.

He’ll have you pinned to a tree on the outskirts of camp, his pants pulled down enough to pull out his dick, your skirt hiked up and your drawers pushed to the side. You’ll bite down on your fingers, trying to keep your moans at minimum as he pushes in you, his girth stretching you as it always does. It’ll be quick, dirty and sinfully delicious, and it will leave you craving more, waiting for Arthur to come back as soon as possible.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Arthur’s always game to try something new as long as it’s safe and both of you are on the same page.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Arthur can go all night long. The man has an implacable self control, and he can make you come countless times before cumming himself.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Arthur is a type of man that wants to do everything himself, be it cooking his own meals instead or ordering UberEats, or making you cum with his fingers instead of a vibrator. Personally, he doesn’t see a necessity for toys, but if it’s something you wanna try, he’s more than happy to use them.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

When he’s in a mood, Arthur can tease you ceaselessly. He’ll have you on the edge of orgasm for hours, making you think that he’s about to give you what you want, only to pull away at the last possible moment. You’ll be a shaking, moaning mess by the end of it, teetering on the edge of insanity and begging him to finally let you cum. He’ll smile that devilish smile, perhaps even cock his head to the side and take a moment to think before saying, “Nah,” and go back to teasing you for hours more.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When the two of you are in camp, Arthur has no problem at keeping his volume to a minimum. He’ll grunt here and there, maybe let out a moan a few times, but nothing over the top, because he doesn’t want to bother other gang members. When the two of you are alone however, it’s a completely different story. The man moans. He lets out grunts, sighs and moans, but most of all, he lets out praises and comments.

“Shit, darlin’, you’re so tight,” he would grunt as he slips in your heat, “Gonna make me bust already.”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he’d say as he circles your clit with his fingers, bringing you to your release for the unpteenth time that day, “I know you got it in you.”

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

The idea of you getting pregnant turns him on, a lot. The two of you are not actively trying to get pregnant, but the knowledge that he could do that to you, could put a baby in you and have you swollen and with a big belly because of him turns him on. When the two of you do decide to try for a child, he’ll be the one tracking your cycle and seeing which days you’re ovulating. On those days, you’ll barely leave the bed, only taking time to eat and relieve yourself before going back to making love in hopes of expanding your family.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Arthur’s hung. That’s all.

Jk, that’s not all. He’s long and thick, something that made a shiver run down your spine the first time you saw him naked. Even after being together for however long you were, his girth still manages to stretch you to your limits and need a moment to get used to. Arthur would never say it, but hearing you say, “You’re so big” gives him a high for hours and feeds his ego like nothing else.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Before getting in a relationship with you, Arthur’s sex drive was mediocre. He might’ve sought the company of working girls a couple of times a month, but that was more like scratching an itch and not doing it out of pure lust. After getting in a relationship with you however, well, that’s a different story. Just the sight of you walking through camp can set his mind on fire. He has a hard time keeping his hands off of you, and can be a big distraction when you have to work. If you’re game, he’ll have you multiple times throughout the day; in the morning, after lunch during your guard duty, at night in the tent. The man wants you all the time and he’s not shy to tell you so.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Arthur is the type of man to fall asleep with his face in your tits. As soon as he makes sure that both of you are clean and comfortable, he’s out. He’ll be scooping you up in his arms and snoring in no time (and so will you, because Arthur’s snores and his warm chest is better than any Melatonin)

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buchananssmolbean · 3 years

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Flower Shopping

Pairing: Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 744

Warnings: um, fluff :D

A/N: fun, fun. also, i made a smut, but it totally flopped, so if u wanna check it out, it’s on my master list, called “No Hammers”. pls don’t copy my work on this platform or other platforms, thanks <3 as always, reblogging is highly appreciated!!

Summary: Bucky likes when you buy him flowers.

"Hi, Bucky!"

"... Hi."

Your lips pressed into a smile as you watched the super soldier try to pry himself out of his shell. Quickly, you tugged on one of the dark red roses in you hands, cutting your finger and pressing your arm out straight. "Here. This is for you. Hold it with your metal hand, please."

While you were sucking the blood out of your middle finger. Bucky was surprised, not only because he was used to men giving women flowers, but mostly because nobody bothered to speak to the Winter Soldier more than a "hello". Maybe that's why his heart swelled when he took the flower, smiling to himself, and then directing it towards you. "Thank you, Doll."

"No problem-o! I'll see you later, okay?" you kissed him on the cheek gently, holding the bottom of his jaw between your soft fingers.

He would never admit it, but his fingers lingered over the spot you'd kissed for minutes after you left. The beautiful sting of your lips made him happier than he could explain.

"Buckkyyyy!" you sang out, eye catching on James eating a simple bowl of oatmeal with unflavoured protein powder. "You're soaked."

It was true, you'd gone to the flower shop in the pouring rain, just to see Bucky's smile again.

"A little." you rubbed at the back of your neck, pulling a single flower out from behind your back, "Tulip."

"It's pretty."

"Glad you think so." you shoved your hand his way, nearly hitting his chest. "Doll, I can't possibly take this from you." he said with soft eyes and a little hint of smile.

"Well, I got it for you. It'll wound my pride even more if you don't take it." you bit your bottom lip, the skin turning an off-white.

"Thank you."

You sauntered out quietly, not forgetting to peck a kiss on his cheek, turning to the bathroom to wash out your rained-on hair. “I like it.” you heard as you quietly pattered off.

“Hiya!”

Bucky was prepared for your exuberance today. He waited at the table for fifteen minutes before he knew you’d be home, pretty much just staring at the clock. “Hi.”

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Just looking around.”

“Hmm.” you poked around your bag, scanning for the small tag that would read “Zinnia”. “Ahh, here we go.”

“What’s this one for?” Bucky genuinely questioned, taking the flower from your hand when you reached up to give it to him.

“Just wanted you to have it.” you smiled all goofily and big, just the way he wanted to make you smile everyday. That contagious kind of smile that Bucky could bathe in.

You kissed him gently on the cheek, letting you palm plant itself on his sharp jawline. Bucky liked that.

Bucky liked that you always took gentle care with your kisses, despite him being the burliest man you’d ever met in your life. Hell, he was even bigger than Steve Rogers.

With that, you were off to the couch, leaving Bucky to smell the flower in his hand, and circle his thumb on his cheekbone. “I love you.” he whispered gently into the flower, not nearly loud enough for you to hear the quick confession.

Finally, after two weeks of receiving your flowers, rain or sun, Steve talked Bucky into paying it all back.

“Hello.” he said, his mouth staying in an “O” shape when you opened your bedroom door.

“Oh, hi Bucky. What are you doing here?”

“Go on a date with me.” he furrowed his brows and shook his head, clearing his throat.

“Please let me take you on a date.” his arm extended so you could see the flower bouquet filled with all kinds of beautiful colours.

“Of course!” you threw your arms around his neck, hugging him closely, and feeling little nerves in your fingertips set of fire. “Of course I’ll go out with you!”

His lips brushed past your neck, and you thought you could die. God, was this man so intoxicating.

“Can... Can I kiss you?” he fumbled around, hands clasped behind your back.

“Yes, James.”

He looked around the hall, force of habit, to make sure no one was looking, before he raised you from your waist so you were at eye-level. He kissed both of your cheeks, then your forehead, and the tip of your nose, and finally his lips met your’s for the most beautiful kiss either of you had ever experienced.

#bucky #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky fluff #bucky x female reader #tws #winter soldier #the winter solider fanfiction #bucky james barnes #james buchanan barnes #james buchanan bucky barnes #buchanan barnes #buchananbarnes1991 #1917 #barnes #james barnes #white wolf #tfatws #bucky imagine

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lilyharvord · 3 years

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marecal fic plz?🥺 it can be a one shot or anything at all I just need smth lol

Got What I Got

Jason Aldean probably didn’t write Got What I Got for Tibarias “Cal” Calore VII but he did, so there’s that. No, I am not accepting different opinions on this fact. Also, this isn’t exactly Mare and Cal exclusively. I threw a little Iris in there because I love her and miss her.

I watch Mare’s eyes flint over my shoulder to the dais behind me for the tenth time since we started dancing. Normally, I wouldn’t be bothered by her paranoia. But given the fact that her hand is gripping my shoulder so tightly I’m surprised she doesn’t squeeze it out of the socket I do feel like something has to be done.

When my arm is starting to get sore from her constant squeezing, I drop my chin to press a kiss to her temple and whisper in her ear, “don’t worry, the deepest pool of water Iris could throw me in is still shallow enough that I can sit in it and keep my head above water.”

I pull away to with a cheeky grin, expecting her to at least try to hide a smile. When her eyes return to mine though, but there is no amusement in her glare.

“That’s not funny Cal.” She hiss whispers before throwing her gaze back over my shoulder.

Rolling my eyes, I glance over her head at the beautiful fountain I had been referring to. It spills water from multiple pools starting from the ceiling and trickling all the way down the floor. It’s actually quite beautiful, and perfectly befitting of a Nymph palace. “I thought it was pretty clever.” I admit before sliding my hand from her waist to her lower back to bring her closer to me. She continues to glower around me like she could strike Iris through the chest with her lightning without anyone noticing.

“Don’t ruin this night for Evangeline, she worked hard to get us here.” I warn her as I smile at the Magnetron across the room. She sits at a decadent table nursing a glass of something golden and bubbly. Next to her, Elane chats sweetly with a Lakelander noble, who may or may not notice some papers missing in his office when Elane’s spies finish sweeping it. Not that it’s likely. Elane had hand-picked every operative for that part of her mission. On top of that, the man’s face was flushed silver from the wine. I doubt he was even going to remember Elane’s face in the morning, let alone a set of papers he had been given at lunch.

“I told her I didn’t want us to go.” Mare growls when she turns her head to glare at Evangeline instead of me this time.

Evangeline’s iron irises shine like her pewter dress as she raises her glass to us. Throwing her arm over the back of the chair and delicately splitting the metal of her skirt so that her leg flashes into existence while she crosses it, she looks remarkably like a cat toying with prey. Her lips curl up into a grin as she brings that glass to her lips and sips delicately.

I hope she doesn’t toast to anything too ridiculous. Last time she had toasted—quite loudly actually—at a dinner with Carmadon and our friends to bison, cattle and their fertility. Mare had choked on her wine and spit out the rest in her mouth, ruining a very nice white table cloth while Kilorn had laughed so loud the table across from us had turned around and glared at him. Carmadon had grinned wickedly though and raised his glass with Evangeline to drink to the toast. I hope she wasn’t toasting to something like that again, that’s the last thing we need luck with right now.

“Even if she hadn’t made us come, I would have been required to go anyway.” I tease as I kiss the top of her head. One of the glittering pins in her hair presses into my lips as I do so. I plan to take my time picking each and every one out of that beautiful cornet when we get back to our rooms tonight.

“I would have tied you to the bed so you couldn’t.” Mare grumbles, and that brings another smile to my lips that she must register because her shoulders tense.

“Well I would have enjoyed that very much.”

“You know that’s not—” she sighs, giving up with refuting me. Tipping her head back to scrutinize me, she says, “I don’t see why we have to be here.”

“Part of being an abdicated king is proving to countries still struggling with the decision that my life is actually going quite well and that the States are prospering.” I spin her away from me before pulling her back into my embrace and closer than before. She melts into me, and for a moment, I debate pulling her behind one of the massive pillars lines one side of the room. The other side is floor to ceiling windows, opened to the magnificent full moon shining on the lake separating the States and the Lakelands. It feels odd to finally be on this side of it after standing on the other bank for so long.

Mare huffs as I press another kiss to her temple, deciding to stay out in the open for a little longer. “I think we’re doing very well. Iris hasn’t tried to kill me this week, and the loosened restrictions seem to be holding up.” I murmur against her hairline when she stil refuses to smile.

“They hold up until we leave.” She grumbles before turning her head to glare at me from the side. “The same thing happened in Piedmont.”

“Piedmont is harder. She’s made up of separate Prince States with very stubborn men ruling over them.”

“Are you really inferring that women are less stubborn than men?”

“Mare Molly Barrow, do you really think I would believe that after being with you this long?” I laugh quietly and get a rapier sharp smile from her in response.

“Do you mind if I cut in?” A delicate, accented voice asks from behind me. Mare’s face pinches in too many places for me to determine if she’s furious or surprised. I glance down at a set of delicate brown eyes that glint up at me under the lights of the ballroom. I try to ignore how my stomach drops at the sight of them. The last time I had been close enough to see those eyes, they had been looking up at me from the deck of a war ship with enough fury to shred me to pieces.

Mare squeezes my hand tight enough that I grimace and try to extract my hand unsuccessfully.

Iris raises a well-manicured brow at us before smirking. “I’m here to test how good of a dance partner you are Tiberias. If we are to be working together in the future, I must know if you will step on my feet or crush them often.”

I really hate political word play. It’s one thing I do not miss. “I don’t go by that name anymore.” I end up saying while looking down at the tips of my fingers that are slowly going grey in Mare’s crushing grip. “Cal is fine.” I say as I finally manage to pry her fingers off of mine.

“One dance, I promise Barrow.” She throws in Mare’s direction with a little pout that is far too mocking to be genuine. When Mare doesn’t say anything, only sharpen her glare, Iris says, “A dog that bites and is possessive, interesting.” Her smile hints at an inside joke they might have, but Mare is far from amused.

“As long as you also promise not to throw me in a bay again.” I snort when Mare crosses her arms and appears on the verge of ruining any treaties Evangeline may have created for us to set foot on Lakelander earth.

Iris’s eyes widen at my words and it looks like she doesn’t understand my reference. Something flashes across her face though and she throws her head back to cackle. When she looks back down from the ceiling, her eyes shine dangerously. “No promises on that front.” She offers her hand and I dip my head respectfully before letting her slide her fingers into my palm.

“It’s not funny Cal.” Mare jeers near my elbow, but gets a smirk from Iris as she saunters past.

“If he can laugh about it, then I didn’t throw him hard enough.” Iris says over her shoulder before I can apologize to Mare. She pulls me into the center of the dance floor, and most of the other dancers pull away to give us a wide berth. I’m partially grateful for it. Anything we discuss will at least be semi-private now. The music cues up, and we stap into a frame that both of us know well. She’s taller than Mare, which means I don’t have to drop my shoulder as much for her to rest her hand there. Her other hand is perhaps just as calloused as mine. I always forget that she’s technically a warrior princess, and belongs on the battlefield as much as I do.

Our steps our quick and measured, practically perfect. It’s a little jarring at first. But we adjust well to each other, like two experienced performers. Which I suppose, we are.

“You’re a better partner than most of the irritating men here tonight.” She sighs, breaking the silence while she waves the hand resting on my shoulder. “Certainly a better dance partner than your brother.”

A pang of sorrow rushes from my chest to my stomach. It’s not as sharp as it used to be, but it still aches all the same. Iris must see it flash across my face because her expression softens a fraction.

“Apologies, that was crass.” She tilts her head to the side so the silky hair not tied into her updo brushes against my hand resting on her lower back. “But I’m sure you can understand that my despair doesn’t run quite as deep as your own.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to.” I murmur, turning my eyes away from her. Pushing Maven far from my mind, I try focus on her face when I bring my eyes back. She is very lovely, but she has the same cunning look in her eye that Maven always had. They would have made a good match—a formidable one--if he hadn’t been chasing Mare still. While she does apologize for her comment, I have a feeling it was actually a probe, a means of testing me and the waters. “Maven was always a better dancer than me though.”

She raises a brow at my words, but thankfully doesn’t comment. She shrugs her shoulders and turns her eyes over my shoulder as we continue to move in our tiny box. The music shifts into a delicate, flowing melody and she shifts her movements in response. I suppose it’s fitting that she dances like water, with each move flowing into the next like the fountain behind us.

“What are your thoughts on the changes in restrictions?” I ask, hoping to end the silence between us again.

“You certainly cut to the chase unlike him, I’ll let you know that.” She shakes her head, but there is no amusement in the smile she gives me. “That’s probably for the best though, Mare Barrow does not strike me as a woman that likes to mince words.”

“No she doesn’t.” I admit. “Which is good, because it keeps me honest.”

“Perhaps we all need a bit of that.” Iris draws her lips into a line, and sets her eyes on Mare who has finally sat down at the table with Evangeline. While Evangeline appears to be having a good time trying to pester her, Mare hasn’t taken her eyes off of us. I wonder if she can read our lips from that far away.

Iris sighs again. “Forgive me for asking such a personal question, but what exactly is it about her that made you and your brother trip over your own two feet like bad drunks?”

I stiffen in surprise, and she turns a quirked brow on me when I twist my lips and reply. “I wouldn’t say—”

“She turned the two of you into love sick puppies. Forgive me if I’m a little confused how two young men that seemed perfectly in control of their inhibitions lost them when she walked through a door—”

“I don’t have an answer for you—”

“--Evangeline Samos I could understand. She’s stunning, as is her lover. There are a number of other Nortan girls that I’ve seen that also are very eye catching. So why this one Red girl?”

I almost stop dancing so the full force of my scowl can reach her. “She tried to pickpocket me when I first met her.”

Iris blinks at me, waiting for me to elaborate or perhaps laugh at what she might think is a joke. When I don’t do either, she frowns. “You’re serious.”

“She was unlike anyone I’d ever met.”

“I’ll say. I don’t know many who would try and pickpocket a prince.”

“She didn’t know I was a prince.”

Iris’s frown deepens, before her lips twist to the side in disgust. “Never mind, I don’t want to know anymore.”

“She made me want to be a better man.” I amend, earning her attention again. Shrugging lightly I say, “She treated me like anyone else, as if I was like everyone else. A part of me had always wanted that I suppose.”

The music dies around us, and the dancers applaud lightly. Tilting her head to the side again, as if listening to the sound, Iris considers my words.

“I think she did the same for Maven. Or he may have seen a kindred spirit in her. I’m not quite sure.” I shake my head, before spotting Mare as she approaches us. I give her a little smile, assuring her that everything is fine. A couple steps in her path, forcing her to find a different route and buys me and Iris more time.

Iris turns to glance at her as well, but loses her in the crowd at the same moment that I do. “You do not regret anything?” She asks aloud.

“No.” I answer immediately. Maybe a few years ago, I would have hesitated and tried to sort through whatever emotions that question brought up. But I haven’t been tangled in that complicated web in a long time.

Iris nods once, then twice. “Then I suppose I like the eases in the restrictions.” She says as a flash of lilac purple near her elbow announces Mare. She appears at Iris’s side before setting her hand on my arm. I give her a small smile and take her free hand before turning back to Iris with the same smile.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

Nodding once more, she tilts her head respectfully. I nudge Mare lightly as I dip my head as well. Taking the hint, Mare bobs in a quick curtsey before staring openly at Iris with a confused glare when she leaves.

“What did she say?” Mare demands as soon as the Princess of the Lakelands is out of earshot.

“Just asked me about things. But she did mention that she didn’t plan to throw me in any bays anymore.” I smile even as Mare sends a strong enough jolt of electricity up my arm that my heart skips a beat.

“It’s not funny, so stop joking about that.”

“Alright that was the last time, promise.” I say as I pull my hand away to set it on my heart and hold my other hand up.

Mare snorts, clearly uncertain, before smirking. “Swear on your colors.” She pokes at my chest to enunciate each word. I catch her finger and pull her toward me so quickly she squeaks as her feet slide across the floor.

“I swear on my colors that it’s the last time.” I whisper as I give her the one smile I know she can’t resist. It’s my only weapon against the arsenal she commands against me. She doesn’t have to really try where I am concerned. Even when she is sleeping or simply sitting in the window box watching the snow fall outside, a part of me is crushed by her. She strikes me though, with and without her lightning by simply existing.

Playfully batting my face away, she laughs lightly, her mood finally breaking like a storm that was about to boil over into a hurricane. When she stops struggling against my hold and simply grins up at me, I allow myself another opportunity to drink her in. Under the lights, the purple strands of her hair almost blend into the dark chocolate of her hair, and her eyes shine like glass.

“I will never want anything but you.” I admit quietly to her. Her cheeks flush red and she blinks in surprise before cupping my cheek softly.

“I know.” She press onto her toes to kiss the underside of my jaw before I drop my chin further to complete the kiss.

#(*ask lily*)#(*shut up lily*)#(((:#sorry this took so long to get out #but here is something!!!!#I miss these two losers #red queen #glass sword #kings cage #war storm #broken throne #post broken throne #marecal #featuring Iris being a sneaky lil you know what #she knows what she's doing #also this song is one hundred percent Cal #please listen #it's amazing

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castiels-majestic-wings · 3 years

Text

HISTORY - PART 2

Paring - Loki x Reader

Word Count - 2,262

Warnings - None

Ever since you returned from Asgard, Tony has been less than happy with your decisions. He refused to let you be alone with Loki, he didn't trust him. Whenever you would go to the Library to show Loki your favourite books, Tony sent someone in with you. Everyone agreed except for Thor, he had seen you get along before. He knew Loki meant no harm to you. Tony on the other hand, was getting under his skin, and the only reason he hasn't been harmed is because you had asked him not to.

Loki showed great interest in the midgardian ways of living. He asked many questions while reading your books but not as many as he was asking now. You were showing him the museum that wasn't that far from the Tower. You had left without informing Tony so you could finally be at peace without being watched like a hawk.

It was peaceful looking at the exhibits. You had attempted to answer all of Loki's questions to the best of your ability. He was such a curious soul. So full of knowledge and craving for more. He seemed to enjoy himself, his eyes were sparkling with curiosity and infatuation. You had gone through half of the museum before you heard the black sabbath ringtone Tony had set for himself. You rolled your eyes as you answered the call placing the phone next to your ear.

"Hey Tony I-"

"Where on earth are you? I can't find you or Loki anywhere? Did he hurt you? Are you okay?"

"We went out as per my request. No he didn't harm me, yes I'm fine. But I'm a little irritated now that you've disturbed my peace." Loki had looked towards you knowing exactly who you were talking to.

"I've told you (Y/N) you can't be alone with him!" You rolled your eyes again. He's so predictable.

"Why?! He's really nice Tony. He's changed, if you just got your head out of your ass you would see that! You need to learn to accept people. Thor has changed a lot since you first met him right? Why is Loki any different?! You would see that he's a great person if you actually gave him a chance! Im hanging up now, and don't you dare look for us" You hung up and placed your phone back in your pocket finally returning Loki's confused gaze.

"Honestly Tony has no idea what he's talking about. I was there in New York too and I've looked passed that I don't see why he can't." You sat down on the bench close by, needing to sit before you get too frustrated.

"I presume the cause of his mistrust is my actions. I did try to kill him, but I never tried to harm you." He spoke matter of factly leaning on the wall next to you.

"Whether you tried to harm me or not, I've was terrified of you until i asked for your help in Asgard"

"Yes I do recall your reaction to seeing me in the Library. I always stay in there but my Brother had told me that you feared me so I left. Started reading in my chambers instead. I can't complain though, it was a nice change." You frowned at the thought. He had known of your fear of him before you saw him in Asgard.

"Is that why you avoided me then? Because you knew I was scared?"

"Well yes. You intrigued me when I first saw you in Midgard. I hadn't expected someone to be at the tower. I could tell you were scared of me. The fear in your eyes. And the shaking in your hands. You never once looked away. I knew you wouldn't be a threat to me. So when Thor had asked me to avoid you I didn't take it lightly."

"Well thank you for- for that. I was scared. I was terrified to ask you for help but I'm glad I did. Otherwise we- we wouldn't be here right now. Not in this situation at least." You smiled towards him standing back up. His eyes were full of hope and admiration. The way he looked down at you was different now. You couldn't quite tell what it was. He was good at concealing his feelings. His eyes lingered on your lips before they flicked back up to your eyes.

"I'm glad also. You're a glorious companion to have, you're such a beauty." You're face flushed at the compliment. Not just because of the compliment, but because it came from a god. A man who had grown up with plenty of beautiful and strong women, you were merely average compared to them. Plus you were just a human -a midgardian- in his eyes at least. He was higher than you, in authority, power. You had never thought he would look at you the way he is now.

"You're flushed my darling. Would you like to get some water?" The smirk on his lips confirmed that he knew what you were thinking. Over the past couple of months you've become closer. And over time you had caught feelings for the god in front of you. And he just found out.

"N-No need. It's fine. Shall we continue the tour? We can look at the artwork next"

"My I would love to but the best piece of art is right here" He became more bold after he confirmed his suspicions. He wanted to make you a blubbering red-faced mess. And he was successful.

"Lets just- Lets just go then. We can go back home and tell Thor all about the new knowledge you received. I doubt he remembers anything I explained to him when we came here together."

"So you brought him here too?"

"Yes he was curious about us midgardians. But he didn't hold on to the information like you have. You enjoy the knowledge you possess but Thor just needs his power to be satisfied." Loki stayed silent. Stuck in a thought he didn't want to share. So you didn't pry.

"Come on let's head home, we can come back here another time." He nodded without saying another word. It wasn't often Loki was silent when he wasn't reading a book. But you let him be. You walked towards the exit Loki not far behind you. You had found a cafe nearby and asked if Loki wanted to join you. He smiled and accepted your invitation.

It was a small place, only 6 tables. Four of them being able to seat four people and the rest could hold two, maybe three if a chair was placed on the outside of the table. The smell of coffee and pastries filled the air, making you inhale deeply to take in the scent.

Loki had noticed how calm you were in this setting, he took note of that for next time you were upset, he could perhaps bring you here himself. You ordered your usual beverage and a muffin while Loki looked at the menu above the baristas.

"Have you tried midgardian beverages Loki?"

"Not really, Thor tried to give me coffee but it wasn't to my taste." His face showed disgust at the memory.

"I'd say to try a cappuccino, Thor takes his coffee black and that's so bitter compared to a cappuccino."

"I'll take what you recommend." He smiled.

"I'll take a cappuccino and a blueberry muffin too please" The barista nodded as she wrote down the rest of your order. You paid before she left to make your drinks. You went to sit at the two-seater by the window. You cupped your chin within your palm leaning on it for support. Looking out to the streets of New York. Loki took notice of the way your hair fell onto your shoulders, small strands parted in front of your eyes.

He didn't know when he started caring for you, but knowing that you liked him made him wonder if he felt the same way. He wasn't exactly sure what it meant to love someone. He had never felt it before, except his love for his mother. He cared deeply for her. But she had told him that loving a parent, and loving a partner are two very different things. Just then your order had arrived. You thanked the barista before giving her a warm smile as she turned to tend to the other customers.

You took a sip of your drink letting out a small moan of delight. It had been a while since you enjoyed drinks at a cafe. Loki hesitated before taking a sip of his coffee. He paused, letting the taste linger before judging it.

"I have to say this is a delightful beverage. You have great taste (Y/N)."

"Well I've always enjoyed Cafe's, I always tried to taste every type of coffee, tea, even the seasonal drinks. I enjoy most of them, but I don't like them if they're too bitter." He hummed taking another sip of his drink.

"I see why you would enjoy it. It's peaceful here"

"I always thought it was the perfect date spot. But I never dated anyone who wanted to come to a place like this."

"Well they must have terrible taste not to enjoy this. I must say though. I would rather enjoy it if you called this a date." There he goes again, being bold. Your cheeks turned red at his comment. You looked down and played with your cup not knowing how to respond before he chuckled making you look up swiftly.

"You don't have to call it that darling. It was just a suggestion."

"No. I- I'd like that." You gave him a smile. You never thought that day you asked for help, would result in you going on a date with a god you feared in the past. But you enjoyed it. You continued talking until the barista came to tell you they were closing. You apologized and collected your things before exiting the premises. It was darker now. The cold air of the night getting to you as you rubbed your hands together.

Loki took your hand in his and began walking to the tower not giving you a chance to respond. He didn't even look towards you. His boldness made it seem like he was experienced in relationships, but the way he avoided your gaze made you think the opposite. Had he not loved before in his long life? God's live for millennia while humans live for 80 years at average. You didn't know what was going to happen next, but you hoped you could start a new chapter in your life. One with Loki by your side, not as a friend. But as a lover.

When you made it to the tower Loki didn't let go of your hand. Tony didn't notice either, he was preoccupied. He started yelling explaining that you can't leave for a whole day with a 'war criminal' because it's unsafe. You let him finish before you picked up your joined hands.

"He is anything but unsafe Tony. Plus he will never harm me. He never even tried to. I trust him so should you." His breathing went heavy in fury.

"Youre dating him? How can you do that after everything he did?" Tony became aggressive. Of course he would, he's very overprotective of you, he's known you for years and saw you as his own daughter. Everyone became aware of the situation and tried to calm him down. Thor was happy knowing his brother found love. But the rest of them weren't so sure about your relationship. They aren't aware that you had your first date today or the fact that it became official just 20 minutes prior.

"Well if you listened to me for once in your life you'd know why! Tony I'm not going to argue with you okay. And I'm not going to break up with him just because you disagree with it okay!" You dragged Loki with you to your room and avoided Tony for a while.

"I wasn't aware you felt so strongly about me." Loki smirked.

"My reactions to you calling that a date was enough of an answer for you. But, what are we now? Are we dating? Or are we just-" At that moment he silenced you. With his lips pressing against your own, his hand rested on your cheek while the other was on your waist. You froze but soon melted into the kiss. Placing your hands around his neck pulling him closer than you already were. It felt like hours before you finally pulled away gasping for breath. You rested your forehead against his own giggling at his previous action.

"You are so bold my king." Knowing how much he wanted to rule a kingdom, you thought that would be a fitting name to give him. He pulled away to look you in the eyes, shock washing over his face. He didn't know how to react to you calling him that, but he liked it. He smiled at you, glancing down at your form.

"Of course, I cannot hold my tongue in most situations darling" You smiled happy at where you were. It took Tony a while to accept the fact that you were indeed dating, and you were so glad you found the courage to speak to him that day. Because now you were where you needed to be. By his side. Ready to take on anything as long as you were together.

@prepareforsomestrangethings

#loki #mcu loki #loki x reader #loki lafeyson #loki odinson #loki fluff #mcu #mcu fic #cazza writes

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

Text

Deathless Gods

Part 2 to Hades and Persephone

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed the first part. I really had a lovely time writing this so I appreciate everyone who liked it!

Alfie never kept a steady appointment with Rachel at the bookstore although he made sure never to go more than a week without seeing her. He came and went as he pleased. However, he knew her work schedule enough to only go to the shop when she was there. He had a feeling her father wouldn’t be keen to know Alfie Solomons was chasing after his daughter.

Not that Rachel was running away from Alfie in any way, much the opposite in fact. He noticed that when he came into the shop, a smile always formed on her face. Soon he found himself returning the favor.

If she was helping a customer, Alfie strolled around the shop, glancing at a few books even if he wasn’t interested in finding anything. When she was free to talk, he pulled up the chair that had become unofficially his. It was a chair that Rachel had brought down to the shop so she could reach things without having to drag the ladder around. But it was now Alfie’s.

He’d bring in the book that Rachel had recommended he read so he could discuss any qualms he had about it. That’s what he seemed to like to do best. Rarely did he tell her about any passages that he liked. He waited until she showed him her favorite lines. Then he secretly reveled when they shared favorite passages.

He had long finished the collection of myths that had begun their relationship. Though it certainly held a special place in his apartment. In his sparsely decorated room, usually, the only things on his nightstand was a lamp and his glasses. But now, the book of myths sat beside the lamp.

Every time they met, Rachel made Alfie fall more and more for her. Every little thing she did or said enchanted him. He just didn’t know that she was realizing the same thing.

Rachel felt as though she was turning the page every time Alfie stepped into her shop. What was once some myth entering through the door, he was now just a man. Every visit, she read more about him, diving deeper into his story.

Of course, he wasn’t very forthcoming about himself. He merely made little slips that gave her hints into his world. Some of them weren’t even verbal. The persistent smell of rum, though he said he never drank. His affection for Cyril. The scar on his cheek. The weary lines on his face. It was like sitting at a museum and studying a very detailed portrait. Every other second, she was finding something new about him.

~~~~~~~~

“Did you know that they’re calling us the Lost Generation?” Rachel asked when their conversation about Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises dried up.

“That so?” Alfie checked his pocket watch, not at all surprised they had been chatting for two hours. Time flew by so fast with Rachel. One time he’d spent nearly four hours in the bookshop, consequently missing two meetings. Instead of fretting, he simply blamed Ollie for mixing up his schedule. “Why’s that?”

“Because of the war.” She smiled down at Alfie’s bull mastiff when he nudged her hand.

Cyril had taken a shine to Rachel. Early on, he would sit obediently by Alfie as they talked. But over time, he inched toward Rachel until he was lying down at her feet, waiting for a pat.

“Huh. Don’t feel lost.” He pocketed his watch again and tipped back in his chair, casually leaning back.

“I suppose it’s more of a…sense of confusion. What do we do after something like the war?” She tilted forward so she could scratch behind Cyril’s ears.

He frowned. “What do you mean? Ain’t nothing else to do but move on. It’s over with.” He concluded with certainty.

But Rachel wasn’t so sure. “I was reading in the newspaper about men who are still suffering. Men who were in the war who can’t seem to forget it. I guess that’s what I mean about being lost. They don’t know what to do with the things they saw over there. And, I suppose people who were here don’t know how to help them. Because we never experienced the things you did.” She tried to capture Alfie’s eyes but he was trying to look busy with cleaning his half-moon glasses.

“Nothing to help.” He replied curtly.

Rachel bit her lip and knew she was taking a risk. “The article talked about nightmares.” Her forehead wrinkled with concern.

He let out a little huff of disgruntlement. “Why’re you going on ‘bout this, Rachel?” He asked.

“I just wanted to know what you thought about it.” She tried to defend herself even if she had been prying a bit more than she usually did.

Alfie ran a hand over his face. He wanted to storm out, avoid any conversation she was trying to strike up about nightmares. Memories of the war. Things he could perfectly avoid because no one dared ask him.

Yet, no one looked at him the way Rachel did. No one smiled at him like she did. Laughed at his jokes. No one saw the humanity in him the way she did.

And even if he left and never returned, he would never be able to get her out of his head.

“Why do you care? Aye?” He asked harshly. The conflict inside of him was stirring up anger that he was trying to keep from her.

Rachel saw the pain in his eyes. He sounded angry but she knew better. It was like a wounded animal biting the person trying to heal them. He was only trying to protect himself.

“Because, I’m very fond of you, Alfie, and I care about you!” She replied firmly so he wouldn’t mistake her intent.

He finally looked up at her.

She let the words sink in for a bit before she continued. “Because I know that you make yourself out to be an evil man, but you’re not. You’re scared of something, just like everyone is. You aren’t heartless.”

Alfie’s conscious was urging him to get up and leave. Who was he to walk into this woman’s life and cause whatever sort of hell he might cause? Even if it was unintentional. The bookshop was like a little bubble, blocking out the rest of the world. But it didn’t matter, he was still the same man. A man who sinned, lied, robbed, and killed. He couldn’t delude himself to think he was any different because of how Rachel might see him.

But he couldn’t budge from the chair.

“Alfie, if you’re alone, just tell me. I enjoy your company and I-I would be there for you.” Rachel confessed something deep from within. Although she adored her time with Alfie in the shop, it was never enough. She always wanted him to stay a bit longer. She wanted to see him outside of the shop. She wanted to see him in the real world. She wanted to see every part of him.

“That’s the problem, innit?”

“I don’t understand.”

“Love, men like me aren’t meant to have women like you in me life.” He responded steadily. “Just like that fucking myth. Hades never deserved Persephone, now did he? Just a miserable fucker who took what he wanted and didn’t care what anyone else thought. We can talk ‘bout books all day long but my life ain’t anything you’ll get used to. Not a life you should know.”

“You don’t know that,” Rachel replied stubbornly. “I don’t care what you’ve done, Alfie. I know who you are!”

“That’s the problem, Rachel. You don’t care. You’re willing to make excuses for me when there ain’t any excuses.” He pointed to the door. “Your neighbors, yeah? You know their son?”

Rachel didn’t answer.

“’ Course you do. Their son works for me. I’m sure you’ve seen him, he’s in a sling now. Why’s that, aye? ‘Cause someone broke his arm. Care to guess who broke his fucking arm? How are you going to excuse that?”

Tears began to form in her eyes as she shook her head. She didn’t want to hear what he was saying.

“When I walk down the street, what do you think people think, aye? Do you think they think the way you do? Or do they think I’m the fucking devil?”

“Just stop.” She lowered her head, not wanting him to see her cry.

Alfie’s shoulders fell as his anger cooled down. He heard a small sniffle from Rachel and he felt his heart shatter. It was everything he feared. A self-fulfilling prophecy, as it were. He was afraid he was going to ruin her life, so he did it just to prove himself right. Just to prove to himself that he wasn’t meant to have people like her. She was unattainable and rightfully so. Such a lovely woman deserved to be with someone lovely too. A man like him deserved loneliness.

He reached into his pocket and took out a handkerchief. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled as he held it out to her.

Rachel took it to wipe her eyes. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for. I should have realized I was being foolish.”

“You’re not-you ain’t done nothing wrong, love.” He assured her. “I just-I don’t know what to tell you. I don’t know what to say to make you understand.”

“Just tell me. You know what to say, you just have to tell me.” She urged.

He couldn’t look away from her. Fierce hatred for himself drove deep knowing he had made her cry. But his heart wouldn’t let him leave. He needed her.

“The first time I got a proper bath after the war ended, it took hours before I felt clean. Even then, I really didn’t feel right. I couldn’t quite scrub all the dirt off. The mud from the trenches, right, it just…it permeated every bit of me. I couldn’t get it all out. Even if I didn’t see any dirt, it just…I knew it was there. So, I figured, yeah, if I ain’t ever able to leave the battlefield then might s’well embrace it. I’d make London a warzone because that’s what felt right. It makes the nightmares feel more…seamless, I s’pose. If I fight all day then it don’t bother me as much if I have nightmares ‘bout the war.”

“I don’t understand how you could be unbothered by them. It must be awful.” Rachel realized Alfie wasn’t the type of man who afforded himself any time for grieving or sympathy. He didn’t pity himself because he didn’t think he should be pitied.

Alfie stared at her a bit blankly. It was awful. They were awful. The war in London was nothing compared to the things he revisited at night. He didn’t have nightmares about Camden Town. He had nightmares about France. He woke up in a cold sweat because he thought he was back in the trenches. Shin-deep in mud and dead bodies. It was so vivid.

“Alfie?” Rachel coaxed him out of his stupor.

“Sorry.” He said in a quiet voice. “Just…I dunno.” He felt lost.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rachel didn’t expect Alfie to return. She was right. He didn’t.

Two weeks passed without any word from him. With each passing day, she became more and more saddened, worried that she had chased off the only person she truly had feelings for.

Every time the bell above the door jingled, her heart leapt in her chest, hoping it was Alfie. But it never was.

She felt empty inside.

~~~~~~~~~

Then, one blustery day, a man in an apron delivered a letter to her. He didn’t say anything, just saying he was supposed to give this to her. Then he left.

Confused, Rachel opened the envelope which was addressed to her.

Rachel,

I’m sorry for my absence but I’ve had an accident and needed to be in the hospital for a bit. If you’d like, I’ll be sending a car around the shop to pick you up Saturday at eight in the morning. The driver will bring you to my place in Margate where I’m recovering. There, I can explain more. If not, tell the driver you’re not going and he’ll tell me in turn.

Hope to see you soon,

Alfie

~~~~~~~

Rachel was outside the shop when eight rolled around that Saturday morning. Almost on the dot, a car pulled up and a young man came out to greet her.

“Miss Watkins? Mr. Solomons sent me to bring you to Margate if you wanted.”

“Yes, thank you.” She nodded and got into the car.

On the way to Margate, she and the driver chatted casually. But he wouldn’t say anything about what happened to Alfie. He said he was specifically told to let Alfie explain everything. So Rachel was left wondering the long drive to the beach town.

~~~~~~~

The large house on the bluff was quintessentially Alfie. The garden wasn’t very well-kept but it wasn’t overgrown either. The house seemed to be in good condition and yet there was a sort of sadness lingering over it.

Alfie hadn’t mentioned his place in Margate before. But he did mention how fond of the ocean he was.

Rachel went to knock on the door and heard Cyril start to bark in response.

The door opened and a middle-aged woman greeted her. “You must be Miss Watkins.”

“Yes, is Alfie in?”

“Come in, he’s in the sitting room.” She let Rachel in and offered to take her coat before showing her to the sitting room.

Cyril happily greeted Rachel but she was a bit distracted. Alfie was sitting in an armchair, turned to the balcony, watching ships pass by.

“Alfie?”

He turned and she gasped.

He sighed and stood up. “I know, I know. I should’ve warned ya but I-dunno, couldn’t find the words.”

Rachel felt her eyes prick with tears when she saw the state his face was in. Fresh scars scored around his left eye. And his eye had turned from deep turquoise to a cloudy grey. She struggled to find the words. So instead, she rushed to him and embraced him tightly.

It was a reaction Alfie wasn’t expecting. He was frozen a bit before he wrapped his arms around her.

It was awhile before they let each other go. Alfie was afraid to tell her the story of how he ended up in such a state and Rachel was afraid to hear it.

But eventually, he withdrew his arms from around her and offered her a seat and a handkerchief to wipe her tears.

“I don’t understand…”

“Right before I met you, right, I went to the doctor and found out I have skin cancer. I made a plan to divvy up me wealth and go out how I saw fit. Then I met you and…well, I s’pose you changed the plans.” He cleared his throat and scratched his cheek absent-mindedly.

“Cancer?” Rachel’s eyes widened. There were brief moments where she noticed abnormalities in Alfie’s skin but she didn’t think it was anything serious. For the most part, he kept the condition hidden.

“I thought I could make the best of life with you but then…after we spoke last, I decided it would be best if I went through with my original plan.” He tried to breathe steadily but the event was still so raw in his mind.

“What was your original plan?” Rachel hesitated to ask.

He didn’t meet her gaze.

“Alfie…please tell me.”

“I had someone shoot me.” He finally admitted. “Reckoned he was a good ‘nough shot but he-well you can see what sorta job he did.” He waved a hand over his disfigured eye.

“And what if he hadn’t missed? I was just supposed to find out you were dead?” She asked, horrified the thought had even crossed his mind.

Looking guilty, Alfie sighed. “M’sorry, love. I felt like I had no other choice. I couldn’t be a part of your life. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“So, it’s fair that I would have to grieve you and wonder if it was something I had done?” She retorted.

“I hadn’t thought about it that way.”

“Clearly.”

The grandfather clock in the corner of the room ticked the seconds of their silence.

Alfie fiddled with the chain of his glasses. “I didn’t want to die that way, just wasting away. But, while I was in the hospital after Tommy shot me, the doctor said I’d been misdiagnosed. It’s just a skin condition.” He let out a bitter laugh. “Think that’s irony or just stupidity?”

Rachel wasn’t sure what to say. At least she knew he was okay and would be okay in the long run. She couldn’t completely understand his thought process but perhaps he was just in a desperate state. “I’m just thankful you’re still here.” She answered quietly. “That’s all that matters to me.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He said gently. “Honestly, I just didn’t know what else to do. I never wanted you to suffer.”

Rachel stood and walked over to him. She knelt in front of him and took his hands in hers. “Can you just accept me into your life? Accept that you deserve happiness?”

Since he was meant to be dead to most of London, Alfie figured it would be best to retire and stay in Margate. Of course, he assumed that meant he would be leaving Rachel behind in London. And yet, maybe that’s why he sent her the letter. Maybe he didn’t want to leave her behind.

“Yeah, love.” He lifted her hands and gently kissed her knuckles. “I can do that.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Papa, read another,” Meg whined and grabbed at the book.

“No, no, my dear you need to go to bed.”

Rachel walked down the hall, carrying Cyrus who was only four months old. She turned into her daughter’s room. It was very late, way past her bedtime. But it was a common occurrence in the Solomons’ household. The little girl was, in Alfie’s opinion, just like her mother. She ate up books at an alarming rate for a six-year-old. She’d begun reading much sooner than most kids her age and refused to even get in bed unless her father was there with a book in hand, ready to read to her.

“But I’m not tired, you need to read more!”

“We’ve finished the book, princess, there aren’t any more words to read.” He chuckled softly.

“Meg, it’s time to go to bed. You’ve already stayed a half-hour past your bedtime.” Rachel reminded her from the doorway.

Her daughter pulled a pout. “But I want more stories!”

“If you read more stories tonight, you’ll be out of books to read.”

“What ‘bout this one!” Meg popped up from bed and went to the bookshelf in her room. She stood on her tiptoes to reach the top where a lone book had been placed.

Alfie looked perplexed when she brought over the book to him. “Where’d you get this, princess, aye?”

“In yours and mum’s room.” Meg crawled back into bed, pushing the book into his hands.

Rachel got closer to see what Alfie was holding. She smiled when she recognized the worn collection of myths that had united them all those years ago.

“Love, this is mum’s book. Not appropriate for you.” He gave it back to Meg to put away.

But his daughter was just as relentless as he was. She haphazardly flipped through the pages. “Read this, papa, what’s this word?” She shoved the book toward him.

Alfie sighed and looked to see what she was pointing at. “Orpheus. That’s the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice.” He explained.

“Read it, papa, please!” Meg begged.

“Fine, but you’re going to bed after this, miss, no more whining.” Alfie scolded.

“Okay!”

Rachel smiled and sat down in the rocking chair near the bed. She cradled Cyrus close to her chest as he slept peacefully.

Alfie held the book open but didn’t read the words. He knew that if he read right from the book, Meg would be stopping him every sentence asking what a word meant. Plus, he knew the myth well enough to just summarize it for her.

“Orpheus, right, he was the son of Apollo. Apollo gave him a lyre and Orpheus was well known for his songs. Everyone loved them. One day, he fell in love with Eurydice and they were married. But unfortunately, Eurydice was bitten by a snake and had to go to the underworld.” Alfie did his best to skirt around the death part of the story. He wasn’t quite in the mood to have that discussion with his six-year-old. “Hades ruled the underworld with his wife Persephone. Orpheus was very sad that his wife was trapped in the underworld. He decided, that he would see her again and went down to the underworld, protected by the other gods. He played his lyre for Hades and the god decided to let Eurydice go back to Earth with Orpheus. But he had a condition. Orpheus had to walk ahead of Eurydice, and he couldn’t look back to see if she was still walking behind him. If he looked back before they were home, Eurydice would be stuck in the underworld forever.”

Meg looked up at her father, bug-eyed and rapt with interest. Just as she always was when he told her stories. “Did he look back, papa?”

Alfie glanced down at the book before shutting it. “No, princess. He didn’t. They returned home and they lived happily ever after. The end.”

Meg smiled, finally seeming content. “I like that story, papa.”

“I’m glad. Now, time for bed.” He got up and kissed her forehead.

Rachel handed Cyrus to her husband so she could tuck Meg in and kiss her goodnight as well.

Alfie shut off the light before going to put Cyrus in his cot for the night. Rachel was waiting for him in the bedroom.

“That’s not how the myth ends.”

He chuckled, undoing his bracers. “I know. But you know how I feel ‘bout that one. It’s a shit ending.”

Rachel smiled. “Alfie Solomons, the only man who can rewrite ancient myths to his liking.”

“Well, I’ve never heard any complaints from you, Mrs. Solomons.” He replied with a grin. “As I recall, you didn’t like the ending to that one either.”

“Well, I appreciate its message.”

He scoffed and walked over to the bed where she was sitting. “You’re just saying that. You think it’s shit.”

Rachel let him lay her back as he lightly peppered kisses down her neck. “Fine, it’s shit.” She grazed her fingernails down the nape of his neck. “I like your ending much better.”

“Mhm, that’s what I thought.” He murmured lovingly. “You were always a sucker for lovely endings where everything is all nice and happy.”

“Like our ending?” She gazed into his eyes.

He smiled and brushed his thumb over her cheekbone. “Ah, love, our story ain’t ended yet. We’ve got lots more chapters left.”

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serenasoutherlyns · 3 years

Text

Full of Surprises ch. 1-3

casey/alex, past alex/olivia. semi-au & fuzzy timeline, set post season 9. cross-posted from ao3 so the first three chapters are coming at ya all at once. TW for series-typical violence, SA, and discussions of mental illness. less graphic than the show. Fluff, romance, angst! First three chapters are totally SFW.

And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, an empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

1 .

This wasn’t where Alex would usually find herself. Or at least, it didn’t used to be. Maybe it was now.

Emily had spent her evenings sat at a booth in the back of the local pub, watching and sketching. The books she’d filled, she kept them safely tucked in a box in the back of her closet, initialed “EC.” Alex couldn’t find it in her to draw much anymore.

Anne was alone more than not, spent long evenings reading philosophy, went running early mornings, yoga classes, taught herself guitar, filled hours on hours with ideas and exhaustion. Alex didn’t spend much time poring over The Republic these days, her guitar was long covered in dust.

In law school, her friends had a favorite table in the window of a little cafe, they would go from morning coffee to afternoon study to sharing bottles of red wine, coming and going as they pleased, debating with hopeful glimmers in their bright eyes. Late into the night, arm wrapped around Sylvia’s waist, listening to her classmates carry on, she’d watch the candles burn down. Sylvia had called her Lexi, whispered in her ear on night walks in the cold Cambridge air to their little apartment, gentle hands soothing her most anxious times. Alex hadn’t felt like that in years.

College weekends were spent at punk shows in basements, though she knows now nobody would believe it, young Alex Cabot (the nickname had been coined in those years, sharper edged than the elaborate Alexandra) knew how to have some fun, at least back then. She’d dyed her hair black and worn studs on her collar, had a reputation for being a player, and it seemed like the back of her right hand was constantly stained with marker residue. Sticky floors and lipgloss on her neck, so many firsts all at once.

Her evenings during her years in the DA’s office were usually full of work, except the odd night when she’d meet the detectives for a drink at their haunt or head out with the other ADAs to some upscale cocktail bar. Two different crowds with two different mentalities, the detectives were dedicated to a fault, while the prosecutors were insufferably full of themselves. The detectives would tire her out by 11:30, but she’d find an excuse to leave the ADA excursions before 9. Far more special were the many evenings spent in Olivia’s apartment drinking two beers each and filling the quiet air with soft laughter and conversation.

But a little library themed speakeasy? Not her typical place. Well. No time like the present to change one’s habits. She’d been recommended it by an old law school friend a couple weeks ago, bumped into him on a whim in a coffee shop, was surprised she wasn’t dead, had been there last night, said it was right up her alley. Its illicit vibe wasn’t exactly to ADA Cabot’s tastes, no. But it scratched something in Alex, that hadn’t been satisfied since those basement nights and cozy cafe afternoons. From the place’s shelves she’d pulled a book of Pre-Raphaelite poetry and sat in a comfy chair with a scotch and a San Pelligrino, pleased, at least, to be out of the apartment for the evening.

She didn’t need the money, but she’d been copyediting textbooks freelance, filling up her time with grammar and word choice. She’d been reading a lot of fiction. She adopted two extremely fluffy cats. It was a pleasant, if mundane, life. It turned out, Alex had realized, that there were plenty of eager and capable young attorneys who could do her former job as well as she ever had. She felt, finally, like she deserved a bit of a rest. Needed one, really. Someone would do the prosecuting. The thought of stepping back in the courtroom, looking at the bench, examining witnesses, made her feel sick to her stomach, though she had once loved that life. It wasn’t her anymore— maybe it never really had been. She decided this was her kind of place after all. This iteration of Alexandra Cabot would drink bubbly water in secluded speakeasies while reading poetry.

Alex didn’t expect to see anybody she knew, not somewhere you needed a password to get into, where the music was indie folk and old jazz from a vintage record player, the drinks had names like the “Lady Brett” and the “Daisy Buchanan,” and most of the patrons were dressed in flannel with their noses buried in old books. And yet, as she scanned the place, she caught someone she recognized. Sitting at the bar, bent over a notebook, was Casey Novak; her deep red hair tied back in a casual ponytail, a half-empty highball glass in front of her, chewing on the end of a click pen.

This was surprising. Alex, though she hadn’t ever known Casey well, before her first brief return to life as Alex Cabot, only as one of the white collar ADAs (they ran in a bit of a pack, didn’t shy away from imitating the lifestyles of those they prosecuted). After knowing her as a prosecutor, Alex would expect to see Casey in a sports bar watching a game, or in some chrome-gilded bar with high ceilings drinking designer cocktails and cheering on a verbal showdown between her colleagues. Or in the center of a showdown like that. Not alone, writing in a moleskine, wearing a red flannel over a simple black dress. Casey was striking, Alex realized, before she realized she’d been looking a little longer than was considered normal. She hoped she didn’t seem like a creep watching from afar. She considered getting up, saying hello, but felt that Casey may not even remember her, may not want to be disturbed as she wrote, may not even recognize her anymore. She’d changed her appearance when she’d gone back to being Alex Cabot, cut her hair in a short bob, dyed it dark brown, wore thick rimmed glasses and simple clothing, too painful to be the formal blonde she used to be. Barely the same woman who’s once-murderer Casey had put behind bars those years ago.

Alex didn’t have to consider talking to Casey, however, because almost as soon as she returned to her book, she heard the sound of rubber soled sneakers against the old hardwood floors and a voice beside her.

“Hey stranger,” she said.

“Hi Casey,” Alex said as she slid her bookmark into place and looked up at the familiar face with a smile. “Care to join me?”

2 .

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” Casey said as she sat down. “I’m allowed to, uh, talk to you right? Though I guess if I wasn’t you wouldn’t acknowledge me, which would be fine, by the way.” There was the Casey Alex remembered, her words getting ahead of her.

“It’s fine, I’m me again,” Alex said calmly, “It’s really good to see you, though I wouldn’t have imagined you to be the writing type, or the underground-library-bar type” Alex gestured to the leather notebook in Casey’s left hand.

“I’m full of surprises, Alexandra Cabot.” Casey said in a tone that suggested she was sarcastic, yet convinced Alex she was telling the truth. Alex sipped her water.

“What were you working on?” She asked, not wanting to pry, but very eager to catch up, to know why she was alone in a place like this.

“Oh, nothing, nothing interesting. Just some little bits and pieces.” Casey replied.

“Not argument notes on a Saturday night, I hope?” Alex asked, though she knew that she would’ve done the same thing back when she was in the DA’s office. Casey looked pale, uncomfortable for a moment. “I’m sorry,” Alex said, trying to soothe any pain she may have caused, though she couldn’t fathom why. “I don’t mean to bring up work when you’re trying to relax.” At this, Casey just looked confused.

“Alex, have you not heard?” Casey said, searching for signs of recognition in the woman’s eyes, but finding only further confusion continuing, her voice low, “I was censured a few months ago. I can’t practice law for at least three years.” Alex’s eyes opened wide and she set her glass down on the table between them. “I’m surprised the rumor hasn’t reached your circles yet, though I admit I’m glad I get to be the one to tell someone for a change.” Alex noticed Casey cross her arms together over her chest, closing herself up, making herself seem smaller.

It was quiet for a while, the sounds of Ella Fitzgerald on the speakers, quiet conversations, and pages turning filling it. “I’m sorry, no, I hadn’t heard. That’s too bad. Do you want to talk about it?” Casey grinned at the suggestion, oddly intimate for the two women who, while they hardly knew each other, had shared some of the most intense moments either of them had experienced in a courtroom.

“I think I’ve gone over it enough in my head, but uh, thank you.” Casey said, her voice wobbling on the thanks, “You know, you’re the first person so far to actually ask me that?”

“I’m sorry.” Was Alex’s reply. Surely Casey had people who were interested in her feelings?

“The circumstances were,” Casey trailed off as she looked for the right wording, “I was at fault, for sure. But I was just trying to do the right thing, and I made a mistake.”

“Nothing shocking, I hope?” Asked Alex, still trying to ascertain the nature of the censure, wondering about what the woman sitting across from her could’ve done.

“I violated due process, technically.” Casey replied, attempting to gauge Alex’s reaction, but seeing that it continued to be contemplative rather than condemning, continued, “I shouldn’t’ve, but I think all of us have done worse in our time. But I was not in Donnelly’s good graces, so…” instead of ending her sentence, Casey sipped the last of her drink and looked up at Alex nervously, hoping the woman wouldn’t judge her too harshly.

“Oh man, Casey. That’s really tough. I’m sorry.” Casey searched for any sign of disapprobation in Alex’s tone, but finding only genuine concern, relaxed.

“So I’ve been doing other stuff for a little while. Using my undergrad,” she said, truly sarcastic this time. “What about you Cabot? What’s keeping you from your old haunt? And what’s with the brunette look?”

Alex wanted to answer, but wasn’t going to let Casey get away completely with deflecting. “You didn’t answer my question, Novak. What’s in the notebook?”

Casey laughed. “You really are relentless.” Alex just raised an eyebrow smugly while sipping her drink, as if to say, go on. “It’s a poetry journal. I’ve kept one since college.”

This admission broke the unflappable Alex Cabot’s reserve and she couldn’t keep herself from a few giggles. “I apologize,” she said, “for laughing at you. Just, the idea of Casey Novak the poet would not have occurred to me.”

“Like I said,” Casey started, “I’m full of surprises. And nobody has laughed at me in a long time,” she continued, beginning to laugh herself. “Believe it or not, I have an English degree.”

“Ok, ok, stop. I’m not sure I can take many more shocks tonight,” teased Alex.

“And you, didn’t answer my question. What’s with the brunette? You look beautiful,” Casey said before realizing what she was saying, shutting herself up before she said anything embarrassing.

“I needed a change,” Alex said, “Something to distance myself from my old selves. I never dyed my hair before, or switched up my look at all really. Just, a change.”

“I get that.” Casey said, and Alex felt like she really did get it, somehow more than anybody else had to this point. She’d seen a few old colleagues and friends, and they all had looked at her with this mixture of fear and pity that made her wish she was invisible. But Casey seemed to say something deeper in just three words.

They talked together late into the night, about books and drinks (Casey had been a bartender in college, her knowledge on pairings was unparalleled) and everything but law. It was close to 2:00 am when Casey started to yawn.

“I’m really glad I ran into you, Alex,” she said as they left the bar, her voice scratchy from talking quietly, a subtle accent that Alex couldn’t quite place showing through under the influence of sleepiness and her light buzz. It was adorable, Alex found herself thinking.

“Me too, Casey,” Alex replied, and before she could turn to start walking towards her apartment, only a block or so away, she was met with a hug. It was brief, but Alex took in the scent of Casey’s coconut shampoo, sweet and pleasing.

“I wouldn’t have expected you to be much of a hugger either,” Alex said as she pulled away, brushing her hands on Casey’s elbows.

“I guess you have a lot to figure out,” she said, playfully, as Alex handed her into a cab.

As Alex walked up the stairs to her apartment (she could afford a bigger place, but this one, this one felt right), Alex replayed the evening and regretted not asking for Casey’s phone number before she left. When she pulled her keys out of her pocket to unlock the door, she found a piece of paper, with a number and a note:

text me, so I can learn some of your surprises.

3 .

Alex was awake.

The same old dreams kept her restless. It had been a bad night, she’d slept less than 3 hours before she woke, startled, as the sun just began to rise, 5 am on a Saturday in September.

Foggily, she attempted to reconstruct the details of her pieced together dreams, her therapist, Julia, had convinced her to keep a journal. She said the nightmares of being shot, of nobody recognizing her, those made perfect sense, classic PTSD symptoms. With what happened to her it would’ve been stranger to not suffer it. But these hadn’t been those dreams.

Clare Cartwright, age 15 stood in line at the coffee shop. Her face was pink with tears but nobody saw anything out of the ordinary except for Alex, watching her from a table. Clare’s cheeks were wet and covered in running mascara but the barista didn’t bat an eye as she ordered an iced chai and sat down alone with her laptop. Tears turned to sobs turned to screams, thrashing, but she just kept typing, sipping her tea, nobody did a damn thing. Alex tried to rise from her seat, go to the girl, hold her and scratch her back while she cried, but the heavy weight of her own body kept her seated, powerless to do anything. She tried to yell across the room, tell her that it was going to be ok, she was going to put whoever hurt her behind bars, protect her from them forever. But when she opened her mouth all breath was sucked out of her lungs, she collapsed. Clare’s cries echoed ceaselessly.

Trevor Hamilton, a 20 something pro, had been turning tricks all night but one guy had taken it a little too far. He was sure his neck, hips would be covered in nasty bruises the next day. Oh well. Nobody believed a pro who cried rape. He stuffed his cash in his briefs and made his way towards the van he slept in with three other guys but before he could get there, he fell, body bloody. Nobody heard a sound but Trevor must have been shot. His blood was cold as it poured out of him onto the sidewalk but he stood up. He wasn’t dead. In the morgue, Melinda Warner ruled the cause of death a fatal gunshot wound to his back, probably a stray bullet, but he’d had sex the night he died, maybe an angry John. Alex told everyone that he wasn’t dead. Trevor whispered in her ear, asked her how could she let them say he was dead, how could she let them get away with saying such a thing like that, how could she let them call what had happened to him sex. Alex repeated herself over and over but all she got in return from the detectives were sympathetic looks of confusion as they sent her home for the day. She must’ve been too tired, Alex heard Olivia tell Elliot, maybe her mind was acting up again, sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis. Someone would check in on her that night, make sure she wasn’t relapsing. Alex knew she wasn’t hallucinating, because Trevor had spoken to her in the clearest voice she’d heard in months. Alex wept for Trevor the whole way home and then some but nobody seemed to notice.

Annabelle Lamm wore a fuzzy pink nightgown when her grandmother brought her into the precinct one snowy night. Olivia called Alex to come to the precinct, they needed a warrant for the apartment, they found fluids in the girl’s hair of all places, grandma handed them an envelope full of pictures of Annie that nobody in the family admitted to taking. It was a no brainer warrant, Alex didn’t even mind waking up a judge for it if it meant getting whoever had been hurting this little girl as soon as possible. When Alex arrived to the building, Olivia wasn’t there and all the lights were off. Alex clicked on a lamp, wondered if Liv had found another ADA and rushed off without telling her anything. But the room was unfamiliar, empty, concrete. In the center of the room standing perfectly still was a 5 year old girl in a pink fuzzy nightgown. Alex ran to her but couldn’t get any closer. The little girl had a hollow expression and didn’t move an inch. Alex kept running and running but her feet stayed in the same spot, powerless.

Yeah. Powerless. As she awoke she felt like she was still running, head still spinning, still heard screams.

She wrote it all down in her journal. Julia had said that it was unusual for people whose jobs involved consistently levels of high stress and disturbance to have the severity of symptoms she had; that there was usually a tolerance that was built up to being horrified. Alex had either never had that tolerance or it had been washed away during the years she’d spent in WITSEC because her very brief return to the practice of law had nearly broken her.

“Sleep deprivation can kickstart psychosis,” Olivia had told her once when they first worked together, ostensibly referring to a case of statutory rape where the perp didn’t recall a single piece of the event; but Alex knew the comment was pointed at her, not the perp. Olivia could tell that Alex’s patience was growing thin, her mind unfocused; she must’ve deduced that Alex wasn’t sleeping much. But Alex already knew the warning signs.

Alexandra Cabot, age 16, sat shaking in a hospital room. It was almost finals week, she’d pulled a few all nighters, it was nothing serious, she’d told her school counselor a week prior when her friends had noticed her speech patterns growing muddled. She stayed up another 24 hours and the last thing she remembered was her roommates grabbing her wrists and pulling her inside off the balcony. After that, the school had installed locks on all the windows. Alexandra was freezing in her hospital gown, brain numbed out from the IV antipsychotics she was attached to. A few days in the hospital to take care of her injuries (she was informed that she had thrown herself against the wall while school officials took her to the ER), then a summer of residential treatment, hopefully she would be able to return to boarding school in the fall. Her father looked at her with a shattered expression, her mother treated her with cold indifference, her friends didn’t talk to her. Major depression with psychotic features.

Alex knew the consequences of not sleeping enough. She considered taking her cup of mint tea and heading back to bed, cuddling up to her cats, reading a book maybe, just trying to screw her head on right. Her body fought her though, nervous energy ran through her veins, so she elected to have a walk instead. Besides, it had been years since she’d had any serious episode. Anxiety, sure, and the occasional month or so of depression, a few close calls, but regular therapy and medication kept her more or less in the clear since college. Her family, her therapists, had suggested she go into a different kind of law, something stimulating but less distressing like, intellectual property, but she had refused, felt called to prosecuting. But her experience was what made her a great prosecutor, and it was why she had been so adamant about the proper handling of cases involving those suffering from mental illness, especially victims, but perps as well. She knew how it felt, more than she admitted to almost anybody, but she also knew there were paths through it.

The same old nightmares, but Alex was a different person. The old Alex would’ve thrown herself even harder into work than usual, won her cases even more viciously, assuaged her feelings of powerlessness by asserting control. This Alex knew that complete control was unattainable.

The September air was cold this early in the morning, but bracing. The contrast between her thermos full of hot tea pleased her, she pretended she was a dragon as she breathed steam. She smiled to herself at the thought and at the bright orange sun rising through the treetops in the park by her apartment. This had been the right choice, sunrises were her favorite magic. Content covered her like a well fitting dress, shaking off the nerves slowly. The most dedicated joggers and newsstand operators were the only other people out this early, the quietest time in the city. Alex’s phone buzzed.

Casey: Nice coat, Cabot.

Alex looked up from her phone, confused. What? Maybe it was delivered late. She’d seen Casey two days ago for coffee— they’d developed a friendship. Texts, coffee, nothing too deep; but then it had only been a couple weeks since they’d run into each other at the library bar. Alex liked Casey. She was funny and a good listener, and she always had something to say. She didn’t walk on eggshells around Alex either, making Casey unique among her friends. She’d tried to meet up with Liv right when she’d gotten back to the city the second time, but the way she looked at her cut way too deep, like she was a hero, like she was a victim. Both of those she may well be, but she needed to be treated as a friend. Casey did that for her, down to playfully teasing her over her eccentric habits. Another text:

Casey: Turn around, Clueless.

Not many people had ever called Alexandra Cabot clueless. Alex turned around, and Casey waved at her excitedly from the jogging path and without waiting for Alex’s reaction began to run up to where she was sitting. Alex was surprised to see her, happily so. She knew Casey was athletic, but didn’t take her to be the 5:30 running type. She wore tight leggings and a running jacket, and the biggest smile Alex had seen from her. She looked beautiful in the soft early light, Alex thought, then immediately blushed at that thought.

She’d never been one to shy away from her sexuality, especially when she realized the destructive role repression had played in her life before she came out. Alex had been out since college, but she tried very hard not to crush on straight women. She knew she couldn’t control who she was attracted to, but it always made her feel a bit dejected, so. Nip that in the bud.

Alex didn’t have much time to consider the ethics of her thoughts, because Casey was right in front of her, grabbing her hands.

“It’s so good to see you! A second surprise encounter, must be fate, Cabot,” Casey said in a quiet voice, a wink in her words.

“Something like that,” Alex replied, “What are you doing out so early?”

“I could ask the same of you; I’m just finishing up my run. You are wearing a fancy coat and looking deep in thought, in fact, you are being far more suspicious than I am, look at how many people are out here jogging, I mean,”

“Oh my god,” Alex cut her off with an eye roll, “Ok, stop cross-examining me.”

Casey gave Alex a genuine laugh, “Old habits die hard.” She paused for a second. “You look pale, did you sleep?”

“Thanks, Casey.” Alex gave her a playful glare. “If three nightmares in three hours counts, then yes, I slept.”

“Oh you poor thing. I’d hug you but,” She gestured to her sweaty figure. “You wanna get breakfast? I’ll pop back to my apartment, shower, and meet you at yours in say, half an hour?”

Alex started slightly at the familiarity, but responded, “Yeah, sure, sounds fun. Uh, here I’ll text you my address.”

Did Casey blush? Alex couldn’t be sure due to her post-run glow and the chill in the air. “Sorry if that’s too familiar, I know we usually plan these things out, and I guess I just assumed you didn’t have plans, it’s totally fine if you don’t want to, you know, runner’s high and all,” but Alex cut her off again with a raise of her eyebrows.

“Are you retracting the offer, Novak?” Alex couldn’t resist the urge to tease the woman in front of her. “Because if I recall correctly, I said yes.”

Casey grew more flustered, replied with a quick, “Nope, still happening, see you in half an hour,” and took off running, leaving Alex behind as she laughed in disbelief.

#law and order svu #calex #cabenson #alex cabot #casey novak #olivia benson #svu #svu imagines #alex cabot x casey novak #alex cabot x olivia benson #svu fanfiction #fanfiction #author #casey novak poetry nerd

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aiorevelations · 3 years

Text

A Number, Not a Name: Part 18

Enjoy everyone!

4 months earlier:

Regis scanned the fragment of paper spread out across the table before him. Not even a month ago he was a desperate man chasing the shadows of his lifelong mentor. What he’d found in the jungles of South America had been nothing short of a profound revelation. The ancient words inscribed held the key to changing humanity. From the very beginning, he had believed deep within his soul that what Professor M spoke of was true. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew it. Though he’d never have suspected that the place which possessed what he sought was merely some speck on a map. A hamlet of small-town America. In the end, though the where didn’t matter. What mattered was that he attained his goal. Failure was his greatest fear. After what he’d sacrificed to get this far he wasn’t about to fall short an inch away from the finish line. Like Professor M had. When he stumbled upon he’d found a broken sickly old man barely clinging onto life. Filled with regret and sorrow that though he literally held in his hand the culmination of his life’s work, he would never live to see it. Regis had vowed that would not be his fate.

Fate, however, was a funny thing. Previously Dr. Blackgaard had possessed adequate resources yet lacked the knowledge he required. Now just when he had attained the necessary knowledge his funds were depleted. Alas Professor M had died, weighed down in debt, and without any assets to further fund Regis’ research. Dr. Blackgaard was one to keep his research away from prying eyes. The last thing he wanted was to inform anyone of his discovery. Who knows what might happen. Word could spread to the general public if that happened it was game over. Blackgaard was well aware however that the little venture he was starting in Chicago wouldn’t provide him with the funds he needed. The choice was before him. Either choose not to share his work and lose any chance of funding or take the chance and inform potential investors of his findings. When put that way there was only one option - the latter. “Blast” he muttered under his breath.

He rolled up the parchment and stood up from his chair, grasping his walking stick as he sat up. Pacing back and forth on the wooden floor he tried thinking of someone who would work as a potential investor. Blackgaard’s mind raced. Too many people had their motives and agendas they were trying to serve. The last thing he wanted to be was someone’s puppet. He’d rather give up his work altogether than be a pawn in someone else’s game. It has to be someone who has enough resources yet can be easily fooled. Someone obsessed with power and ambition that they’d do anything to obtain it - even trust a complete stranger. A person who is so full of themselves they’d never think anyone could bring them down. Sasha meowed, interrupting Blackgaard’s thoughts. He stooped down and picked up his faithful feline companion. Softly, he stroked her neck and behind her ears, prompting a deep purr from Sasha. “Oh, Sasha…Now, who do we know who’d be aware of someone like that.”

Blackgaard had a long list of reliable contacts. Men and women spread across the globe. People who were aware of plots and schemes of power and the people behind them. Blackgaard’s polished shoes thudded on the packed earth as he circled the jungle cabin, left exactly as it had been when Professor M died. Professor M’s research notes and documents were packed carefully in boxes that were neatly stacked. His personal effects and clothes were strewn throughout the room.

Regis placed Sasha down on the floor and walked to where Professor M’s trunk was located in the corner of the small hut. He opened the lid and searched through it until he found a notebook. He scanned over the pages looking for a particular name. An old contact of theirs who Professor M had known even before he met his esteemed mentor. They had come to value her greatly. Every secret or scheme going on she always found a way to find out. Finally, Regis' eyes landed on the name he was searching for. Blackgaard knew she was the answer.

…..

4 months earlier:

Liana stared blankly ahead. She was busy pouring coffee yet her mind was somewhere else. Today would have been Erik’s birthday. She tried to push it to the side and carry on waitressing, but the memories would come flooding back. Picnics in the park. Splashing each other in the lake. The way he’d shower her with flowers and chocolates on Valentine’s Day.

Liana had known she’d never be able to have peace until her father and all those responsible answered for their actions, but she at least thought with time she’d be able to have a sense of healing. Instead, the more time passed the more angry she became. She should be spending these years with Erik. If he was here she was certain they’d have been married by now probably with children. Living a happy and beautiful life. She’d been robbed of that life and forced to live a cold and lonely one.

“Liana!” Hearing her name, she snapped out of her thoughts.

“Uh sorry. Millie. What is it?”

“You’re pouring coffee all over the counter.” Liana glanced down and saw she’d overfilled the coffee cup, causing the liquid to flow all over the countertop.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” She set the decanter down and grabbed some napkins from the dispenser.

“Are you okay? You’ve seemed distracted all morning.”

She wiped up the spilled coffee. “I’m fine.” Liana picked up the coffee cup and walked to a table by the shop window.

She set the piping hot coffee on the table. “Here you are, sir.”

“Thanks so much” the man graciously responded.

“Would you like anything else?”

“No, this is good for me. Thanks.”

“Of course. If you need anything please let me know.” She forced a smile and began to walk to another table where two women were waiting to order. Halfway to the table, she stopped. Her eyes were drawn to the television mounted in the corner of the room. An image of a man’s face caught her eye. His familiar features, grey hair, wrinkled skin, piercing black eyes, matched the image she’d seen in person on multiple occasions. One of the faces seared into her head for the last nearly five years. There was no mistake, the man was none other than Davit Dalmar. Below his image was the headline “Breaking News: Davit Dalmar, CEO and founder of Dalmar Petroleum, announces run for Krudian parliament.”

Liana found herself chilled to the core seeing his face. It took her back, back to that night. The worst night of life. She holding her dying boyfriend in her arms, knowing there was nothing she or anyone else could do. She bit back her lip and took a deep breath. No, she wouldn’t break down, especially in a Budapest cafe.

What was that expression? The past has a way of catching up to you. She’d always planned to go back. To go home. Deep down she knew what she had to do. That pain. That anger. That overwhelming feeling of loss. It was still there. Burning in her soul stronger than ever. She knew she’d never be able to move forward unless she went backward. Nevertheless, when it came to confronting her past she’d find herself paralyzed. Unable to go back. Memories of Krudia, her father, Eric haunted her. Every street or shop in Bulin came with some painful reminder. The very thought of stepping off the airplane filled with her dread and terror.

But now seeing Dalmar had served to remind her of the men she’d left behind. And of what she’d lost. He was a monster. Him and her father both. She felt another wave of anger surge through her. In what world was it fair that Erik was dead and Norvan and Dalmar were still breathing? How could someone be so heartless as to take him from her without a second thought? How could people, like her father and Dalmar, find pleasure in killing others? She may have thought the removal of some malevolent individuals necessary but never took pleasure in their demise only in the justice being served. One thing couldn’t be denied: her father and Dalmar were insane. They had to be brought down. Any reservations or fears she had, Liana knew she couldn’t wait any longer. She was done running from her past.

…..

Present-day:

Jason woke, tied to a chair. Ropes dug into his wrists. Beads of sweat trickled down his face, or perhaps blood, though he wasn’t sure which one. His eyes adjusted to the dim light. He appeared to be in some type of warehouse. Above him, warehouse pendant lights flickered the only source of light in the room.

It all came flooding back to him—what he'd prayed had been only a nightmare—The car chase, men shooting at them, Tasha slumping forward on the steering wheel ….

Tasha. His heart began to race and a sinking feeling settled in the pit of his stomach. Where was she? He prayed she was still alive. He frantically glanced around him but saw no one.

He couldn’t help but wonder if his earlier actions had caused this.

He struggled to loosen the ropes that bound him. Straining he turned every which way trying to free himself. It was no use. He let out a scream of frustration and lowered his head. A feeling of helplessness and utter loneliness consumed him, His head throbbed but the physical pain he was experiencing didn’t compare to his overwhelming guilt.

It’s my fault. The words stabbed through his mind. I got us into this. I shouldn't have acted recklessly—Why didn’t I just stick to the plan? Why did I have to be so stubborn? He shook his head. I wanted so desperately to prove myself that I ended up screwing everything up. If I get out of this I’ll probably have to resign. The last thing the NSA wants is someone who can’t complete a routine mission, let alone their first assignment. Who knows, maybe that’s probably for the best anyway. Donovan saw right through me. My flaws and weaknesses…how careless I could be…and I proved him right. Now not only is the mission ruined but Tasha’s life is in danger because of me. If she dies I’ll never be able to forgive myself.

He glanced up at the ceiling. Right now he didn’t feel like he belonged anywhere. His whole body felt numb.

There was nothing he wanted to do, nowhere he wanted to go. Nothing mattered anymore, except doing everything he possibly could to right his mistake. To make sure Tasha was safe and if possible successfully complete their assignment.

Whoever was behind this would probably hurt him. The thought barely registered in his mind. He knew he should feel something. Dread. Fear. Anxiety. But he didn’t. All his thoughts were turned to Tasha. They could do whatever they wanted to him. It didn’t matter. He would willingly sacrifice his life without hesitation if it meant they didn’t touch her. At that moment he knew he was powerless. There was only one thing he could do. He bowed his head and closed his eyes.

…..

Tasha’s eyes darted around the room, her eyes landing on the metal door to the side of her. She felt something digging into her skin and realized she was tied up. Tasha lay against the wall struggling to recall previous events, how she’d ended up here. Her mind was blank. The last thing she remembered was leaving with Jason for the gala. She looked down at her clothes. Instead of the dark blue dress, she remembered she was wearing light pink pajamas. She looked around the room. The floor was layered with dirt. Cobwebs hung from the corners of the room. Jason was nowhere in sight. Who knew where he could be. For all Tasha knew he could be lying dead somewhere or being mercilessly tortured.

The door creaked open causing Tasha to look up. An older muscular man entered the room followed by a tall brown-haired woman.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what they were probably after. Information. Luckily, Tasha thought, she’d been briefed and trained how to resist such efforts. She sat up in her seat and braced herself for whatever was coming, though she couldn’t help the shivers that traveled down her spine.

Milena’s eyes met Tasha’s. Tasha tried to read them yet they seemed nearly expressionless. The man’s on the other hand were easy to read. They were deathly cold.

Milena spoke. “I have to say that was quite a showing back there. Very impressive. My hired men are known for their efficiency. You and your associate were their hardest targets ever by far.” She crossed her arms. “So congrats.”

Tasha kept a blank expression on her face. "You might as well just skip to the end. I’m not saying anything.”

“Who said anything about getting information? I’m not so stupid as to waste my time trying to get intel out of an NSA agent.”

Elias walked over to Tasha “Never saw that coming did you?”

Tasha looked him directly in the eyes. “Can’t say I didn’t. If I was in your shoes I wouldn’t waste my time either.” Fear trembled through her, but at the same time, there was a defiance in her eyes. Even in face of danger, she wasn’t one to submit or hold back on fiery comebacks.

A dark chuckle escaped his lips. He glanced at Milena. “I like this one. Too bad we can’t keep her around.”

“I’m afraid I wouldn’t be the best company anyway.” Tasha glanced at the metal door beyond Milena and Elias. There was one question she had to ask. Though a possible answer filled her with dread. Life had a funny, even almost cruel way of unfolding. Not even a few hours ago Jason and she had been going at it and now here she was worrying over his safety. Though she was still deeply angry and upset at Jason for what he had done, all that mattered to her right now was that he was alright. “Is…he okay?”

“He’s alive if that’s what you’re asking,” Elias replied.

A wave of relief washed over Tasha. At least she and Jason were both alive. When it came down to it that alone only mattered. A dark thought crept into her mind. But then again who knew what their captors had in mind for them. Perhaps it would have been better for him not to survive, that might have been a merciful fate.

Elias stepped closer to Tasha. Then, from under his black shirt, he unslung a small black pistol from his belt.

Tasha’s mouth began to run dry and her heart began to race. Elias twirled the gun on his finger, only increasing Tasha’s uneasiness.

She ignored him, keeping her eyes fixed on Milena. “You know, you seem like a straight shooter so I’ll cut to the chase. Why exactly do you need us? If you’re not after information I fail to see the point.”

Milena gave a small laugh. “Aren’t you a fast talker? Trying to hide your fear?”

“No, my boredom.”

Milena clasped her hands. “Let’s just say I need you both for a plan of mine.”

Tasha eyed her confusingly. “What kind of plan.”

“That would be giving things away now would it?”

“What things? Are you working for Dalmar?”

Pain flashed across Milena’s eyes at the mention of his name. It was only there for a second and was gone as soon as it came. Not before being noticed by Tasha. “Dalmar, that monster. Heck no! Your whole plan of bringing him down is still happening. You and Edward are just playing a different role than you originally planned.”

Tasha found herself shocked by Milena’s revelation. However, she made certain not to show her surprise to those in the room. Basic training - never show your opponent what you’re thinking.

Milena turned to Elias. “Would you give us a moment?”

He glanced from Milena to Tasha and back to Milena again. He placed his gun back in its holster. “Sure.” The door clanked shut behind him.

“I know what you may think of me and I can’t say I blame you. I’d probably feel the same way too…but I just want to say that I admire your tenacity. I respect what you’re doing.”

Tasha leaned forward. “Really. I would never have guessed. If you respected my mission, why interfere with it?”

“Trust me. I had my reasons. The justice I’d get from your NSA wouldn’t be enough.” She spoke, a hint of sadness showing in her eyes for a brief moment.

From the first time she laid eyes on her Tasha could tell that the woman standing in front of her wasn’t a hardened criminal. That there was something beneath the surface. It was obvious now she’d suffered some tragic painful event in her life. Dalmar’s doing most likely. Tasha thought for a moment about how to respond. She knew the words she’d say would probably not change her mind or course of action, but she had to try.

Tasha spoke softly. “I know what horrific things Dalmar is capable of…Sometimes it seems that men like him just end up walking away but that’s no ex—”

“Excuse for me to take the law into my hands. Yeah, I figured that speech was coming. Guess what, I don’t have time for it.” Milena said strongly before turning around and walked across the room. Well, that went well but pretty much how I expected. Tasha thought as Milena shut the door behind her as she exited the room, leaving Tasha alone once again.

#aio fanfic #Adventures in odyssey #adventures in odyssey fanfiction #aio fanfiction #aio #adventuresinodyssey #jason whittaker #tasha forbes

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ayatosmlktea · 4 years

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hey❤ can i get a Erwin X wife Reader which he gets angry at her cause he thought she was cheating on him and then she leaves and leaves him alone with an ending which has lots of fluff and sadness?

A/N: I can’t believe I wrote this whole thing not seeing that they were supposed to be married…my bad!! I fixed it

For More Feels

𝑰𝒕’𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕 𝑶𝒗𝒆𝒓 ❤️

Erwin was by no means an insecure man. He knew his effect on women and even some men, none of them mattered though; not anymore. Y/N was the only woman who had ever brought him to his knees. He was resigned to spending the rest of his life burning through one fling after the next, too scared of commitment to open up his damaged soul to anyone else. And then she had come along. Y/N had him doing things he had never thought of doing, Erwin had sworn his heart to humanity and yet she had wedged herself in without resistance. Their relationship had snowballed from casual dating to getting engaged and shortly married after within a few months.

Erwin was sure he would never feel this type of fire with anyone else and had no reservations about proposing. Erwin knew he his time in their world was uncertain but one thing he was sure of was that he wanted to spend the rest of his days with her as his wife. He had been elated when she had tearfully said yes, nothing would compare to the euphoric feeling he had around her. Y/N had expressed as much to him, often telling him that she had never felt the same way about anyone else in her life. Which is why it was such a shock for Erwin when he had heard she’d been sneaking around behind his back with Levi no less!

Now Erwin was not one to pry into Y/N’s business, trusting her enough to come to him with whatever was troubling her but the thought of her betraying that trust snapped something inside of him. He had to see it for himself. His mind was going through all the times she’d blown him off recently, at the time he’d thought nothing of it.

They were both busy people, him being the commander of the survey corps and she was equally busy with her duties as a squad leader. Reminiscing on it only made him angrier, did she really think he was that blind? All the times he’d been waiting up for her to go to bed only to have her slip in long after she’d thought he’d fallen asleep.

“Care to join me for lunch love?” Erwin asked a little too sweetly that morning. Y/N looked up at him with those adorable e/c eyes, he couldn’t find anything in her expression that was anything but sincere.

“Sorry Erwin, I already promised Levi I’d help him with something today” Biting her bottom lip unconsciously, a tell tale sign she was nervous, she flashes him an apologetic smile before quickly hurrying out of his office. The growing pit of despair in his stomach was getting the best of his nerves.

Erwin needed answers and despite his better judgement he followed her. An unamused snort leaving his nose as he watched the pair enter Levi’s favourite cafe. If they were seeing each other behind his back they could have at least made it less obvious. They’d been seated at a table outside in the far back corner, away from prying eyes and eavesdroppers.

They were sitting unnervingly close together; Erwin had never thought Levi to be a threat to his relationship but at the sight of him gently stroking her arm any respect he’d had for either of them dissipated. He didn’t need to see anymore, turning on his heels as he quickly storms back the the base.

♡ ♡ ♡

“For the last time Erwin I’m not, nor have I ever cheated on you!” Y/N cries in anguish, she had lost track of how long they’d been at each other’s throats. Neither of them really listening to each other at this point.

“Then would you please mind explaining the compromising position I caught you and Levi in before?” His tone was nothing short of snarky and taunting, Y/N couldn’t believe that her normally calm and collected husband could turn into such a cruel man when drunk.

“I told you!” At this point she was screaming at him. “Levi was helping me plan your surprise party, which NOW obviously isn’t a surprise!” Erwin crossed his arms, utterly unimpressed with her stupid excuses and quite fed up with her lying.

“Seriously? That’s why his hands were all over you?” Erwin was beginning the slur his words together, having drank a lot more than he had thought.

“I hurt my arm during training! I asked him to look at it to make sure it wasn’t serious!” Y/N was so tired of repeating herself and angry at how nothing she was saying was getting through his thick skull. She was on the verge of tears, not that he cared. He took her tears as an omission of guilt.

“We have medics here Y/N or are you really just that much of a slut for Levi?” Erwin’s words were sharp against her ears, cutting into her heart like daggers.

“You know what, if you’re going to be this fucking childish then take your stupid ring back. I thought you trusted me but I guess you’re really just the devil everyone says you are” throwing the delicate ring back at Erwin not bothering to wait and see where it landed she storms out of his office. The sound of the door slamming echoed in his ears, his emotions had gotten the best of him and he’d said things he would never have said had he been sober. The effects of the liquor he’d been drinking for the past several hours were beginning to settle in as slumped back against his chair succumbing to sleep.

The next morning Erwin had been graced with one hell of a hangover, his neck utterly wrecked from the awkward position he’d fallen asleep in last night. The dull ache in his limbs a glaring reminder of his age, rubbing the drowsiness from his eyes he calls for Y/N. Silence all too loud as his memory pieces back the events of the previous night.

He’d been stupid to doubt her loyalty to him, the memory of her teary eyes adding to the nausea he already felt. The glint of her diamond engagement ring catches his eye, the weight in his hand so much heavier than it had ever been. He might have been piss drunk but the expression of hurt on her face at being called a slut unjustly made him curl in on himself. He needed to apologize, Erwin was used to keeping his temper in check and Y/N had always been patient with his difficulty at opening up. He’d never yelled at her like that before, he’d never yelled at anyone like that!

“God I’m an idiot” he muttered before going to take a shower, knowing that it would do him no favours to beg for her forgiveness looking like the same mess that had ruined them.

The entire legion knew something had gone down between their commander and his wife, Y/N was putting up a brave front but one look at her face would give away the fact that she’d been crying all night.

“I can’t believe you think that little of me” Levi seethed over breakfast the next morning, his anger well deserved. “I would never do that to you, and neither would she”

“I know” Erwin mumbled, there wasn’t really anything else he could say that Levi didn’t know.

“I’m sorry”

“Tch, I’m not the one you should be apologizing to” Rolling his eyes Levi walked out of the mess hall leaving Erwin to stew in his thoughts.

♡ ♡ ♡

Y/N was good at avoiding him. Much to his dismay, she refused to look at him or speak to him unless he gave her a direct order. The tension between the two of them was making everyone uncomfortable. Any attempt of Erwin trying to talk to her was quickly shut down, she made herself scarce never staying in one place too long unless absolutely necessary. She was all too adept at playing this game of cat and mouse and Erwin was sure he was beginning to lose his mind without her. Nothing was the same, food didn’t taste as good, he barely slept anymore having gotten used to the feeling of her body next to his. Catching her off-guard outside her office seemed to be his last desperate option at getting her to acknowledge him.

“Y/N please! I want to apologize” Erwin pleaded with her, he was not one to beg- ever but it had been weeks since their fight and it was killing him.

“Apologize for what sir? Insinuating that I was cheating on you multiples times after I repeatedly apologized and explain the situation? Or did you want to apologize for calling me a slut?” Her harsh words made him cringe visibly, the expression she wore was blank the look in her eyes nothing compared to the love that was once there.

“Yes, I was wrong and so stupid! I let my emotions get the best of me and obviously got too drunk. I should have listened to you!” Erwin’s hand reached out to grab hers only to be shut down when she took two steps back, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well you didn’t Erwin! You said things you can’t take back” her brows furrow, her lips drawn into a thin line.

“Y/N please give me another chance. I need you. I’m so so sorry” Y/N’s heart felt like it was breaking all over again, the past few weeks had been unbearable.

“I thought I made it clear when I gave you the ring back” she muttered between clenched teeth. Her jaw ached from fighting back the urge to cry not having given into the feeling since their fight. Unable to stand not being able to touch her he grabs her arms in his hands drawing her into his body.

“I’m not a monster Y/N, I know I’ve hurt you and broken your trust but I want to make it up to you. Please baby, I can’t lose you” There weren’t many moments where Erwin expressed his feelings but the sight of his eyes shining with unshed tears began to chip away at her resolve. Y/N couldn’t deny that the bond they shared was unlike anything she had ever experienced before and it had hurt like hell to pretend that there had never been anything between them but her feelings were still undecided on whether or not she wanted to forgive him.

“Fine. I’ll give you one chance, but one more fight like that and we’re done for good.” Sighing deeply she leaned her forehead against his chest relishing how comfortable it felt to be back in his arms. Relief flooded his system, it wasn’t going to be easy but for her he’d do anything.

Masterlist

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whereistheonepiece · 4 years

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♥ If it strikes your interest: Sanji is very affectionate when he's drunk

Send me writing prompts. Status: Accepting.

Note: This is inspired by @lesbian-space-ranger Also I don’t know if you saw, but this is the last prompt I did. I think you’ll like it if you haven’t seen it.

I worked very hard to get into the proper headspace to write this.

Zoro and Sanji were not what one would consider an affectionate couple–at least not in the beginning and not when other people were around to see. This in part was because Zoro didn’t understand the incessant need some couples had to involve the public in something that was supposed to be private. This wasn’t to say that he was against hand holding or light kisses in public settings, but Zoro wasn’t in the habit of making anyone else privy to the fact that Sanji’s deft fingers in his hair reduced him from snarling tiger on the battlefield to a purring lap cat–in the beginning, that is. Nowadays, he didn’t care who saw when he settled in for a nap on Sanji’s lap, lulled to sleep by the soothing sensation of Sanji playing with his hair and lightly scratching his scalp.

And then there was Sanji, the other half of the equation. “It’s not that I’m ashamed,” Sanji had told him once when Zoro had approached him to ask him if he was having second thoughts about their relationship. “I just like that this is just between us right now. I like having this little secret with you.”

And Zoro had respected that, had understood that line of reasoning. He waited and tried to remain discreet until Sanji was ready to go public–and then he did what he could to assuage Sanji’s wounded pride in the privacy of the kitchen while the cook ranted about how none of the crew had been surprised, because hadn’t Sanji and Zoro been careful?

Zoro remembered trying at first to stifle his amusement, but Sanji, in his anger, reminded Zoro of an angry kitten Zoro had come across once. The thing could fit in the palm of his hand, and it had been startled by Zoro, and it had done its best to appear big and intimidating, arched back, tiny lips pulled back in a snarl. It had only made Sanji angrier when Zoro had started laughing, and Zoro had to fend off Sanji’s furious kicks, grinning all the while as his kitten bared his fangs at him.

Zoro looked at Sanji from across the table he and the rest of the crew occupied in the tavern, smiling to himself over the rim of his tankard as he remembered how things had been so long ago. These days they were more open with their affection for each other, but usually that stayed on the comfort of the ship or at the end of the battle, when their blood still raced and unspent energy found its outlet through heavy, aggressive kissing and gripping, pulling hands.

Zoro kept his gaze on Sanji, watched the love cook flirting with Nami, Robin, and the two friends they’d made since entering the tavern. Zoro watched the way Nami and Robin exchanged knowing glances with each other as Sanji tried to ingratiate himself with the two women seated across from them, the two female members of the Straw Hat pirates already three steps ahead of Sanji, as always.

Robin, cheek cradled in her hand, her eyes sparkling with amusement, cast a glance Zoro’s way, silently checking in with him without needing to say a word. Zoro nodded at her and tipped his tankard in her direction before finishing off his drink. He then pushed himself up out of his seat, telling the table he’d take the next round, feeling generous, earning raucous cheers from his inebriated crewmates.

Sanji noticed Zoro as he passed by, grinning at him and throwing an arm around his neck. “Zorooo,” he drawled, slightly stumbling as he followed him to the bar, leaving all four ladies behind. Zoro raised an eyebrow, putting a steadying hand on the small of Sanji’s back just in case it was needed.

“Hi, Cook,” Zoro said, raising his free hand to get the bartender’s attention. “You having fun?” He glanced over his shoulder and saw the women chattering away, the both of them already forgotten.

“Yes,” Sanji said, with the special kind of happiness that only came to small children and the drunk. “But the important question is: are you having fun, Marimo?”

Zoro smirked and looked at Sanji, who still had his arm around his neck, as he put in his order for the next round. “Yes, Cook,” he said. “There’s alcohol and all our friends are here. Course I’m having fun.”

“Good,” Sanji said, nodding with as much solemnity as he could muster in his current state. “It’s good to have fun.”

Zoro chuckled once, shaking his head. Sanji had hardly anything to drink and already he was tipsy. “Should I order you another drink or are you stopping here for the night?”

“No.”

“No, what?” Zoro asked. The bartender looked their way and sent Zoro a brief nod as he worked on drinks for a different set of customers.

“No, I’m not stopping.”

“All right.”

“‘Cause I’m gonna keep up with you tonight.”

Zoro looked at Sanji skeptically, raising an eyebrow. “Cook, you’ve probably had less to drink than me and you’re already ahead of me.” Zoro at most had a nice buzz going on and Sanji already looked sleepy.

“Don’t care,” Sanji said, resting his head against Zoro’s with a sigh. “Maybe I’ll stop and wait for you to catch up.” He hummed contentedly, his fingers snaking up the side of Zoro’s head and petting Zoro’s hair like he would a small animal. “Yer hair’s soft...”

Zoro blinked. The cook was going to have a killer hangover in the morning if he truly intended on drinking like Zoro, and he was always a complete bitch in the morning after as he nursed his headache, but Sanji was an adult and could make his own decisions–no matter how poorly thought out they were. “Don’t come crying to me when your head hurts tomorrow,” he said before placing his order. “You’ll get no sympathy.”

“Cross my heart, hope to die, Marimo.”

Sanji’s plans to drink as much as Zoro had failed. Nami was the only one on the ship who could keep up with Zoro–and maybe even outpace him–and she’d left with the rest of the others a while ago. Sanji’s efforts had been brave–and stupid–but they’d been in vain. The cook slumped over the table with a sigh, pushing his tankard away in defeat while Zoro watched him over the rim of his, small smirk on his lips.

“Okay,” Sanji said, pushing his seat out, probably ready to leave. “I’ve had enough.”

“See you on the ship,” Zoro mumbled, too busy staring into the amber depths of his drink to notice Sanji walking over to him until the cook had plopped himself in Zoro’s lap, straddling his thighs. He looked up at Sanji. “Hello–” he said before he was cut short by Sanji wrapping all four of his limbs around Zoro’s torso and burying his face in Zoro’s neck.

Zoro blinked, glancing around to see if anyone had taken notice. Most everyone had left at this point and those that had remained were too drunk to notice or care. He was the only witness to Sanji’s shameless clinging. He wished he could take a picture of this moment. Zoro let him be, taking his time with his drink, the alcohol and Sanji’s soft snoring his only company.

When he was ready for what would be his last drink, Zoro stood up and was shocked to find that Sanji’s grip hadn’t lessened, even in sleep, even as Zoro moved. Zoro stared at Sanji, his shock dulled by the alcohol. A crossbreed of a snort and a snicker emanated from his nose and made his nasal passages sore as he took in the absurdity of the situation.

Zoro sighed. “Cook,” he said, trying to push down on Sanji’s thighs. They wouldn’t budge. He tried again, this time with more force, and was met with the same resistance. “Cook. Let go.”

Sanji mumbled something in his sleep.

Zoro shook his head. To think that all of the previous moments he’d experienced in his life had built up to form this one. The absurdity of it all...

Zoro continued to try to pry Sanji off him until it finally sunk in that the only way he’d be free of Sanji’s python grip was to enact serious injury on the cook, so he relented with a long, tired sigh. “This is my life,” Zoro muttered to himself, still in disbelief as he turned around slowly and Sanji continued to cling to him. Zoro tiredly ruffled Sanji’s blond hair as he approached to pay his tab, the final drink a no-go. “Guess we’re going home, Cook.”

The bartender did little more than raise his eyebrow, having probably seen weirder. Zoro flashed the man a sardonic grin. “Gotta take my child home,” Zoro said wryly as he paid for the night.

He heard the bartender bark out a laugh as he turned and left.

He found Brook waiting for him outside, staring up at the full moon. The skeleton turned his skull, saying “Ah, Zoro-san, the others–” Brook stopped in his tracks when he saw Zoro staring at him blandly, Sanji clinging to his torso like a young koala did to its mother.

“Shhhh,” Zoro whispered loudly, finger held to his lips. “The baby is sleeping.”

Brook hesitated, tilting his skull to the side. “I was trying to say that the others thought it prudent that I escort you back to the ship.”

Zoro was already trudging past Brook. “Of course they did,” he said dully. “Assholes.”

Brook took two large steps to catch up. “Ah, Zoro-san?” he asked, concern in his voice as he grabbed Zoro by the shoulder and steered him in the right direction. “May I ask why–”

“Why I have a twenty-one year old man hanging off me?” Zoro asked, looking up into Brook’s skeletal face. “Dumbass wanted to drink with me.”

Brook laughed quietly. “I see. And have you tried–”

“Yes, Brook,” Zoro interrupted, “I tried getting him off of me. Asshole’s got legs of steel.”

“Hm. I must say, it’s interesting to see the two of you like this,” Brook observed.

“Like what?” Zoro asked, keeping his attention on the cobblestones in front of him.

“So open with each other out in public,” Brook explained. “You’re usually more reserved than other young couples your age.”

Zoro shrugged. “It is what it is.”

“Indeed,” Brook agreed. He paused for a moment before continuing. “And it’s interesting to see Sanji-san so...”

“Clingy?”

“Vulnerable,” Brook clarified.

That brought a tired smile to Zoro’s lips. He looked at Sanji, who was still snoring away on his shoulder, and he dropped his hand onto the top of Sanji’s head, ruffling his hair softly. “He’s gonna hate you for seeing him like this,” Zoro murmured, looking ahead and seeing Sunny in the distance.

“It is a rather undignified position,” Brook agreed, laughing softly.

Zoro groaned as they drew closer to the ship.

“Zoro-san? What’s wrong?”

Zoro stared up at Sunny. He then looked up at Brook. “I’m just realizing what a pain in the ass it’s going to be getting him up there.”

Brook laughed melodically while Zoro struggled to wake Sanji.

“Cook.”

Silence.

“Cook, wake up. We’re here.”

“Mmmm...”

“COOK!”

“Nooooo...” Sanji whined, nuzzling the front of Zoro’s shirt.

“AT LEAST MOVE ONTO MY BACK, YOU CLINGY BASTARD!”

“Nooo, I’m comfy...”

“ASSHOLE!”

Brook laughed. “Good night, Zoro-san,” he said as he made his way onto the ship.

“WHAT? BROOK? BROOK, GET BACK HERE! BROOK, COME BACK AND HELP ME!”

But Brook was already gone, leaving a drunk, angry, tired Zoro behind with a drunk, whiny, clingy Sanji who refused to let go. Zoro yelled up at the sky in frustration, the lion head on the front of the ship and the moon silent, indifferent witnesses to his troubles.

Note: Okay, I’m take nap. You guys can send more prompts if you so desire. I’ll even do stuff for other ships (if you know that I like them).

#zosan #zosan fanfic #zoro #sanji #fanfic #fantasytigeress #asks

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brief-candle · 4 years

Text

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ - Douma

actually probably failing my a-levels so no university is gonna accept this guy on the medicine course B)

how’s your day going?

so these headcanons are for a modern au with a stalker douma, for context!

series: kimetsu no yaiba/ demon slayer.

notes: MANGA-ONLY CHARACTER, meant to be stalking headcanons but there's surprisingly little mention of it, modern au, cult, douma being a massive snake, yandere, kidnapping.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

modern! douma:

so assuming his cult still exists in this modern au, douma is still perceived as a supernatural entity due to his unnatural yet beautiful eyes. this leads to him being extremely spoilt, even if he was still being groomed to become the leader. he's used to having everything he wants as soon as he asks. however this position of his leads to being lonely, with his lack of attachment to anyone within his cult. well, not complete lack of attachment. not with the female disciples anyway, many of whom he had flirted with and seduced before he'd even become the leader.

it was so easy to get them to do his bidding. just plaster on a cheerful façade, throw in some honeyed words and he had anyone there wrapped around his finger. sometimes he didn't even need to go so far.

sometimes he had to leave, however. to leave that place which stunk of the blood of those who tried to leave, or who turned against one another. his room stank of it the most, as it was the room his parents used to occupy. no matter how much he tried, he couldn't purge that stench. and so he left the little town of his cult and entered the city in the evenings. it was under the pretence of preaching and bringing in new disciples, but that was never done intentionally. many simply decided to join once they were drawn in too much by him, to the point where they decided that they couldn't live without him.

the first time he met you was by coincidence. he'd noticed you staring at him, most likely mesmerised by his eyes. however upon him approaching you, believing you to be like so many he'd encountered before, you'd instead asked if his eye colour was some sort of medical condition. he didn't know how to respond, as no one had ever questioned his eyes. they'd only ever blindly admired them, to such a point that he was revered because of them. however he wasn't given time to figure out how to respond, as you'd realised that such a question was awfully rude and apologised profusely. before he could assure you that it was fine (and continue trying to woo you), you'd already scurried off into the busy streets.

he'd forgotten about you until the second time he encountered you, but you hadn't forgotten about him. you were kicking yourself for asking such a question to a literal stranger and when you saw him again you hoped to god he didn't remember you. unfortunately for you, he did. and when he approached, you didn't give him time to speak, simply inviting him for a couple of drinks in an attempt to make up for your previous inconsideration. he agreed, but with different intentions to you.

you'd chatted for hours after you got your apology out of the way. he was so charismatic (at least, that was what he allowed you to see of him) that the conversation just seemed to flow into the night. he was intrigued by you, who seemed to dodge and duck his flirtatious remarks through either changing the subject or flat-out ignoring them. he was curious as to what your reasons were to blatantly ignore such obvious comments, but you didn't reveal, no matter how slyly he tried to pry them out.

by the time you parted ways, his curiosity had grown exponentially. for his whole life he had been handed everything he wanted without a moment's hesitation. to not be given what he wanted was a real shock for douma, and he was wondering with almost morbid thoughts as to how much it'd take to get what he wanted from you.

your next few meetings were through educated guesses mixed with chance, after which he began to put his plans into motion. perhaps if you trusted him more then he'd get answers, but trust only comes through familiarity. so if he wanted answers more quickly then he'd have to force that familiarity. he asked a high-ranking member of his cult to take over his work for a while as he took care of 'business' in the city. the people of the cult weren't particularly fond of this change, but didn't dare to show it. they wouldn't dare upset the very being that will grant them salvation.

his position being temporarily covered meant he had more time to invest into figuring you out, whether that be from seemingly benign conversation to committing crimes. stalking is a regular occurrence, with breaking and entering coming in at a close second. he's sure you've noticed it by now, but douma doesn't care much. you won't figure out it's him, with how meticulous he is at covering his tracks. his underlings are even more thorough, as the mere thought of him being locked away terrifies them to the core. he uses this commitment to his advantage.

after weeks upon months, all of this is beginning to take its toll upon you, visibly and mentally. you're tired, snappy, jumping at the slightest touch. and douma enjoys it, relishes each backwards glance that you thought was subtle. this helps him worm his way closer to you, playing the good-willed and concerned friend, constantly reminding you that you can tell him anything.

and finally, you do. you tell him of how scared you are of this person, and how badly it's affecting your life. you can barely get your work done. grades are dropping, your part-time job performance is slipping and your life feels like it was beginning to crumble. of course, he knew all of this. at least until that point. when you continued, it was with stuff he'd been surprised to hear.

you confessed that you'd thought he was kinda creepy at first, which probably drove you to blurt out something so rude due to being so uncomfortable. you'd (correctly) guessed that he was approaching to flirt and had immediately wanted out. you had no time for relationships at that point if you wanted to pursue your dream, and barely even went out with friends. at least, before douma wormed his way into your life and had played you like a (damn) fiddle. and, unknowingly, you followed his every move just as he wanted you to.

when you'd finished, you apologised to him, confessing that you'd been wrong about him the whole time. that he was nice, and you appreciated his company and all he did for you. you put the final nail in your coffin when adding that perhaps after everything blew over and calmed down (and when, in your words: 'that bastard is caught'), then maybe you'd have time for a relationship then.

that was the worst choice of words ever. with such wording, douma very easily took it as a hint that perhaps you'd be interested in a relationship later on. it was easy to for him, with his past of easily charming countless women. it would be no surprise to him that he was able to charm you as well.

however he couldn't help but be charmed by you as well. you with your optimism still intact and so goal-driven, even with him beside you. perhaps it was no longer curiosity that forced his hand, but rather love. he couldn't tell. it was hard to know love without knowing any other emotion, yet he put that name onto his feelings immediately. it fit well with the tightness in his chest, and the warmth blooming onto his face. not that you noticed, as you didn't look out for anything suspicious about douma anymore. and that was your second worst mistake, the first being to allow yourself to grow close to him.

that night, he stayed up for what felt like days upon days. he couldn't sleep; his mind was too full with thoughts of the future, with thoughts of the warm butterflies that fluttered in his chest that only made their appearance around you. that night he gave you a rest from the paranoia he usually set upon you, only to be far from restful himself.

then an idea came to him: if you were struggling so much, then why didn't he take you away? take you away to his village, where you needn't struggle anymore, where you could be waited on hand and foot and live out your days in peace. surely that was what you deserved, wasn't it? after all, this emotion you'd introduced him to- one which he only felt when in your presence- brought upon him the closest thing to happiness he'd experienced. it'd only grow with your constant presence, surely. besides, you deserved a reward for it, didn't you?

once that thought set root in his mind, he sprang up to transfer thought to action. preparing a room for your arrival with eagerness. he took control of everything that went on with an iron fist, not allowing it to be less than perfection. and they delivered, as it would not only be you but him staying in this room. it was only natural, with the women of his cult being the way they were. they'd take any opportunity to get you out of the picture just as they'd stab each other in the back with no hesitation. it was a vicious place to live in, but he wouldn't let them ruin you. anyone but you, the person who showed him happiness.

by the time dawn broke out, the only thing missing in the room was you. knowing you, he'd probably have to keep you confined there until you adjust to your new life. douma isn't blind to the fact that he'll be betraying the trust he'd so meticulously built up to that point. however in his eyes, he can simply build it back up again once it crumbles. after all, he knows the human mind best. that's how he's got this far, after all, both with you and with life in general.

though your life will be lonely, with no one to trust, douma will be sure to give back to you what you gave to him. he'll be sure to give you as much happiness as you gave him, as well as the sensation he names 'love' that blooms whenever you are near. no matter what, he'll make sure you experience what he does when you're in his presence.

you'll never be free, but then again, as long as you'd known douma, you were never truly free. the only change is that there's no safety in a crowd of strangers in this place. not that you'd ever be near others in this place anyway, with douma very much aware of how they behave and think.

#yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere kny #yandere douma #yandere x reader #yandere doma #kny douma #douma x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader

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ice-cream-nekogirl · 5 years

Text

1-800-273-8255 (Class 1-A X Reader)

Major Trigger Warnings: This story contains attempted suicide, mention of suicide and mention of intrusive thoughts, including some inspired by my own, if any of this triggers you, I strongly apologize.

I wrote this a week ago... and at first I couldn’t bring myself to post it because... well I wasn’t sure if I should but... National Suicide Prevention Month is coming up in September so and then school is starting and... sometimes that can be enough to stress anyone out and trigger feelings of anxiety and even depression so... I’m finally posting it for those reasons...

There is a LOT of triggers in this story, I can’t stress that enough it was hard to just write this but... I felt like I had to...

Inspired by feelings I’ve experienced before and sometimes still experience when my intrusive thoughts come back to haunt me.. I also wanted to dedicate this to anyone else who might have felt suicidal, or even just had intrusive thoughts like me, or anyone else who has thought about suicide. You are not alone and you ARE loved.

Again, there’s a lot of triggers in this story so... reader discretion is advised...

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cycUHgg0zzU

I've been on the low I been taking my time I feel like I'm out of my mind It feel like my life ain't mine Who can relate? I've been on the low I been taking my time I feel like I'm out of my mind It feel like my life ain't mine...

To be a hero, means being someone who can save people with a smile on their face.

But what if the smile isn’t real? What if it’s forced to try and make people believe that you’re okay and that you can do anything for them?

That was your life. You wanted so desperately to be a hero and to save people with a smile on your face. But none of your smiles were real, and they haven’t been in a very long time. You couldn’t even remember the last time you actually gave a true, authentic smile.

Yet here you were, in UA, the famed school for young heroes in training; the same school you sacrificed sleep, food and time to study for and prepare for just to get in. It’s a pressure you’ve been putting on yourself since the beginning, constantly trying your best to fulfill your expectations, for you, for your family, for other things you wanted to do good in.

And it was stressing you out, and every single time you tried something, you felt inadequate, especially to your classmates. Their smiles were real and you kind of hated them for it, and then you went back to hating yourself for thinking like that.

You loved your friends. You especially loved your best friends Izuku, and Ochako, Iida, Tsuyu, Todoroki, Kirishima… all of them, and your classmates each had a special place in your heart. Maybe not Mineta that much, but it’s not like you wished ill on the guy, he just seriously needed to take some hardcore classes on how to respect women.

Still, your classmates were amazing, and your new classmate Shinsou, you didn’t even know him until he got transferred into the class and you were so proud of him. He was doing something you knew you would never do, take a step closer to becoming a fantastic hero.

You couldn’t ever be a good hero. You couldn’t ever be a good person…

Everyone knew you for your smile though, but no one knew that your smiles weren’t real. None of them, not even your best friends. Which relieved you, you didn’t want to tell anyone about your problems at all, not even your teacher.

“(L/N).”

He called you right before classes were dismissed as your other classmates were already going out. Despite the anxiety swelling in your chest and threatening to pop, you turned to face him with your trademark smile, “Yes sir?”

You could see what looked like a hint of concern in his dark eyes, focused entirely on you as if trying to see even the smallest hint of trouble from you. This wasn’t the first time you’ve had someone try and look into your soul, but you had become painfully good at burying your emotions down so that way no one could see anything.

I don't wanna be alive I don't wanna be alive I just wanna die today I just wanna die...

“Have you been all right? Your grades are still decent, but it seems like they’ve been slowly slipping. Your performances in sparring have also been somewhat lacking. Is there… perhaps something wrong?” Aizawa wasn’t criticizing you or judging you, he was just making observations. You were thankful for his lack of judgment though since you haven’t been doing the best lately with all the stress starting to crush you from the inside out.

“Yeah! I just get a little nervous sometimes before a test… I’m… well sir I’m not sure if you’ve noticed but I’m a perfectionist, I just… I always want to be perfect and as a result I’m always afraid of screwing it up. So… sometimes I don’t always take the risks… and I kinda doubt myself in the heat of the moment…” As Aizawa intently stared at you and listened to your explanation, you smiled and blinked back whatever moisture wanted to gather in your eyes. Keeping your voice as level as possible and ignored the misery clawing and tightening around your throat as you swallowed it down.

It hurt… it hurt so much…

“I see.” You had a feeling Aizawa didn’t entirely believe you, but he wasn’t going to pry because for the most part, he believed most of your words since you had shared some of the honest truths with him, especially about your own perfectionism. But he had no idea what was truly going on with you, and you couldn’t be more thankful for that…

“If you need any help, I can offer you some tutoring. It’s my job to help you after all, whether it’s related to class or anything else you might feel comfortable sharing.” He said to you in a rare soft tone you didn’t hear him use often.

Never in your life have you felt so guilty for lying to your teacher, “Thank you sir. I might have to take up that offer on tutoring… I just need a little bit of help that’s all, I think from then on out I can get better and be less of a worry-wart.” You admitted sheepishly with a more bashful smile, which was enough to ease Aizawa just a little bit. “Very well then. Have a good night (L/N).”

He brought most of it, and even though he kept an eye on you as you bowed and left the classroom; he couldn’t see everything you were hiding…

“(Y/N)!”

Izuku had called you when he saw you walking towards Heights Alliance, he was standing at the front with Ochaco, Iida, Tsuyu and Todoroki, “Welcome back!” The brunette was waving to you as you looked over at them, but you were silent for a moment.

At least until you remembered to keep on smiling as you gave them a wave and made your way over to them, “It’s not like I went anywhere sillies…” You said playfully to your little group of friends, “We know! We’re just happy to see you.” The girl said to you kindly, smiling at you and you felt like you were just ready to cry right then and there.

I don't wanna be alive I don't wanna be alive I just wanna die And let me tell you why...

But you were an expert at holding it all back, so you kept your smile on. “Heh, you’re so easily amused…”

“What did Mr. Aizawa want to talk to you about (Y/N)? Is… everything all right?” Izuku sounded concerned though because he saw and heard your teacher call for you before you could leave with everyone else. Resisting the urge to gasp or even widen your eyes, you chuckled a bit.

“Ah, he was just offering some tutoring for me. You know I’m not the best test-taker and I’m just… a BIT nervous…” You let out a small laugh as you shrugged that off, but you didn’t and couldn’t tell that it just worried your dear friend.

“I can also offer you some of my own help if you feel you need it (L/N).” Iida was kind enough to offer his support to you and you perked up a bit. You always knew Iida was a noble kinda guy, so noble it was annoying sometimes but you appreciated it. And you appreciated it SO much right now…

“Really? Wow… thanks Iida… yeah, I’ll let you know I promise cuz… I’ll take what I can get… Haha…” As you gave another one of your fake laughs, you didn’t see a pensive look from Todoroki neither as he looked right at you.

Still, neither of them wanted to be rude and dig into your private life so they took what you were giving them, “Don’t worry, you’re a hard worker (Y/N), you’ve only been getting stronger and you’ve already got your hero license.” Izuku didn’t shy away from praising you, and it nearly sent you over the edge when he gave you that smile…

“I believe in you.”

It took every ounce of your remaining willpower to hold it all together as your fake smile grew despite the swirl of emotions thrashing inside your chest, “Oh Izuku… thanks… that’s so sweet…” Unable to help yourself, you threw your arms around him and pulled him into the tightest hug, earning a rather high-pitched squeak from your friend as he blushed a bright shade of red.

That was the first time in a long time you actually giggled a true giggle as you saw how flustered he was, “Hee~. You earned it you cutie…” Smiling you couldn’t help but snicker again when Izuku’s face somehow turned even redder as he looked away shyly, “A-Ahh y-y-you’re… y-you’re welcome…”

Hiding his face rather bashfully, you gave him your first true smile before you opened the doors for them to go inside, and you didn’t see the somewhat uncomfortable look on Ochaco’s face after you hugged him like that. But you did see Todoroki glancing at you with those intense grey and cyan eyes. For a moment you thought he caught on, but you just waved and smiled at him.

He wanted to talk to you, but at the same time he wasn’t sure if he would even be good at talking to you about personal things since he wasn’t like Izuku after all. And he didn’t want to bother you so he let you be. He knew what it was like to want to keep your personal things to yourself, so he wouldn’t bother you.

And as soon you ran to your dorm-room, falling to your knees as the tears quickly streamed down your face as you threw your hands to your mouth and quelled your sobs as you quietly cried to yourself again. Every day you’ve returned to your room crying, there was little you could do to stop this endless disappointment you felt in yourself and you couldn’t stand it.

You couldn’t handle the way you felt like you were letting everyone down. It felt like you were going crazy, and right now, you just wanted to die.

Eventually, you were able to prop yourself back up from your floor, stumbling as you made your way over to your desk. Writing something that wasn’t your homework…

THE NEXT DAY…

It was another day in class, everything was normal, and everyone was smiling as always and cracking some jokes despite the upcoming tests that you were not prepared for. “Hey (Y/N)! We’re thinking about getting together for another study session with Yaoyorozu this weekend, wanna join us?” Kirishima sweetly asked you with that smile.

God you wished you could smile like that…

Instead you selfishly gave him your fake one, “Sure! I’d love that, I could definitely use a lot of studying.” You giggled a little bit as your friend beamed at you, “Great! We’ll get it all done together! Help each other out. Hey I’ll even ask Bakugou to help you out if you want.”

“Word? Oh that’d be awesome…” You were amazed that Kirishima was actually going to try and get Bakugou to help you out. Bakugou! You’ve known the guy since childhood with Izuku, and he wasn’t the nicest guy in the world at all but… he was brilliant so you’d take his help if he actually gave some of it.

“Bakugou~. Hope you don’t mind if Kiri and I ask for some help…” You kinda timidly asked your irritable classmate as he scowled at you, “FINE! But you’d better not waste my time!”

Bakugou was as crass as always, and it both annoyed and amused you as you just gave him one of your smiles, “Thanks dude! Relax I won’t… I know better than that.” You covered your mouth to quell fake giggles, and pretended to be oblivious to the look Bakugou was giving you.

At least until Kirishima and Kaminari started asking him questions and teasing him about having a ‘soft spot’ for you and that made the flustered, explosive teen quite literally explode at them in response.

I want you to be alive I want you to be alive You don't gotta die today You don’t gotta die...

There was so much life in Bakugou and Kirishima’s eyes. And in Mina’s, Kaminari’s and Sero’s, and yet no one could see the listlessness in yours.

You didn’t feel like a human being at all.

You wouldn’t let them know though; you would keep your fake face on ss you shared a few insincere laughs with your friends they all got up to get ready to leave as Aizawa dismissed the classes. But you had to wait for him to leave too.

Because you were also getting ready to leave.

“Hey Iida! Leave all the cleaning to me!” You waved to the class representative when he came to the room with the cleaning supplies, “Really?”

“Yeah totally! I haven’t done it in a while.” You said smiling, but Iida seemed to contemplate on leaving you to do such a task all by yourself. So he shook his head, “Please (L/N) allow me to help you, it’s a large class and you shouldn’t have to do this all by yourself.”

Damn his chivalry…

I want you to be alive I want you to be alive You don't gotta die Now lemme tell you why

“I’ve cleaned rooms before though, it’s not that bad, besides like I said I haven’t done it in a while so… please let me help out with this. And… I didn’t want to tell you this but I overhead Mineta saying that he was going to try and hide under the stairs to take photos up the girl’s skirts… I feel bad for narc-ing but…I thought you deserved to know.” You had to lie, you hated that you were doing it but you had to…

Iida’s eyes went wide as the thought of his depraved classmate doing such a vile thing, “That Mineta! Thanks for telling me (L/N)! I will stop him as soon as I see him! And thank you for offering to clean the classroom I will have to owe you something in return for this! I will see you in the dorms!” He exclaimed to you gratefully before he rather quickly dashed out to go and reprimand his classmate for something he surprisingly wasn’t going to do, you hoped…

With that your friend was gone. Leaving you alone, and you couldn’t be happier as you looked around the empty classroom. It felt strange without all the faces and bright personalities that colored the room beautifully. The silence numbing your being as you made sure that Mr. Aizawa wasn’t here and that no one else could see or hear anything.

Carefully, you set the cleaning rags on the desk as you opened the window to see the skies one more time. Faint, bell-like chirps tingled in your ears when you heard birds flapping by and then flying outwards to the sky.

How you wished you could be one of those birds, free to fly in whatever direction they wanted and as high as they wished…

Bottom lip quivering you inhaled and exhaled deeply as you removed your UA blazer and tie; symbols of the hero school you knew you didn’t belong in. And you pulled out your hero costume from your bag and placed over your desk. (H/N) was going to be a fantastic hero, but in the end, (H/N) was just another goal you couldn’t complete because you couldn’t do any of the hero work right.

Failure.

That’s all (H/N) was.

You don’t deserve to be here; you don’t deserve to be anywhere…

Nothing would change if you just disappeared. No one might even realize if you disappeared, and it’s the best for everyone, and for yourself.

Everything fell silent in the classroom for a moment as you walked away from the window, staring outside one last time before your legs started to move with your eyes glued to the skies. You took a step onto the ledge before allowing yourself to plummet downwards as gravity pushed you…

Down…

Down...

Glimpses of brightly lit memories flashed before your eyes as you thought briefly of your loved ones one last time as you fell.

Izuku.

Katsuki.

Tsuyu.

Ochaco.

Tenya.

Shoto.

Eijirou.

All of them…

CRASH!

As your body impacted with the hard ground, everything suddenly went blurry as you didn’t see that you landed on your back. An intense, unforgiving wave of agony crashed over your form as you felt something warm leaving in several orifices under your body. Your arm… your legs… you couldn’t move them…

There was nothing you could hear other than the sound of a high-pitched ringing that screamed in your ears and blocked out the piercing, bloodcurdling shrieks coming from your friends and other students. You couldn’t hear them, and you couldn’t see the horrified and tearful looks on their faces. You couldn’t see Izuku, Ochaco, Iida and Todoroki trembling as they registered their dear classmate having fallen.

You couldn’t see the looks of shock and horror on Bakugou, Kirishima, Kaminari, Mina or Sero…

You couldn’t see anyone…

You couldn’t see Mr. Aizawa rushing forth desperately as he made his way over to your trembling body as he checked frantically for a pulse as you choked and felt the carmine spilling out the corners of your mouth. It was cold, why was it so cold…?

“SOMEONE CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

ONE DAY LATER…

Guys… I’m so sorry.

I’ve been struggling a lot lately with personal issues, with myself, with the person I am and I’m not at all happy with the direction I’m going in. I feel like I’m constantly letting everyone down and disappointing everyone I know and love.

Every morning I wake up and feel like a failure because I wake up from nightmares about me just failing and failing over and over again. I can’t escape the dark place I’m in, and I don’t feel like I deserve to be here with all of you guys.

I haven’t felt like a human being in a long time, and I don’t want to be alive anymore, I just want to die. I know I shouldn’t want that, but I can’t escape this thing that’s constantly plaguing my mind no matter how hard I try.

You guys are the only light I have ever known, which is why I can’t be here anymore, it feels like the darkness has me and I’ve tried so hard to get away from it, but I feel like I can’t fight it. I can’t be the hero I want to be, I try so hard, but nothing I do is good enough. The only good thing in my life right now are you guys, I know you’re all going to be the most fantastic heroes of our generation, so please, keep being Plus Ultra.

I love you all. All of you.

P.S: Please tell Mr. Aizawa that I love him too. And Mr. Yamada, and All-Might too.

(L/N) (Y/N).

Izuku was in tears when he found your suicide note on your bed in your room, an immense surge of so many emotions of shock, grief and remorse crashing over him and his friends as they all heard their classmate read their friends’ note. Each of them all looking distraught and confused as many of them teared up and started sobbing with every word Izuku choked out when he read it.

And when he read your name, he broke down in heavy sobs as his tears dripped onto the paper that had remnants of your own tears prior to the day before you wrote it. After your suicide attempt you had been admitted into the hospital, but you were comatose and suffered some bad injuries. Recovery Girl did the best she could and healed the broken bones, but she couldn’t only heal so much, the internal bleeding was what worried everyone because currently you were in the very fragile and thin line between life and death.

No one in 1-A was in a good place.Their classmate tried to commit suicide and very nearly succeeded and possibly succeeded and it terrified them and made them all break down together...

Izuku in particular was nearly inconsolable as he wept in the common room with everyone else. The only form of comfort all he had was the fact that his closest friends were crying along with him as they each sat with him on the couch. Aoyama holding onto him with his head in his shoulder and Iida on his opposite side with his arm around the two smaller boys.

“I-I can’t believe it…” Ochaco managed to speak as she and Tsuyu hugged each other to comfort each other, “S-She... she seemed like she was fine yesterday…” Tsuyu didn’t want to believe it, but the more she thought about it, the more tears came to her eyes as Ochaco held her hand tightly. The two girls thought you had acted kind of odd, but your smiles were so bright that they both guessed that it blinded them from the pain hidden underneath the light you made sure to constantly radiate.

“I knew… something was wrong…” Todoroki hid his face with his hands as he wiped his tears away, “I thought she was acting strange… but I didn’t ask her…” Guilt etched over his tear-stained face as he buried his face back into his hands, unable to help the ice creeping onto his right side. He had never felt this feeling before, not since his mother was taken away…

But the thought of actually losing a friend, even the very possibility, it was almost too much for him to bear, and he did nothing to stop it…

“It’s my fault… she was in pain…” He sniffled as he shook his head in disappointment, and anger at himself as he punched the side of the couch in frustration. He should have helped you; he knew what it was like to bottle up emotions and yet he didn’t do anything to help you…

“I-It isn’t y-your fault… T-Todoroki… I… I also knew that… s-she was acting different b-but I… I couldn’t… I didn’t even… t-think of asking her… I-I had no idea s-she was even in… s-so much pain…” Izuku couldn’t even finish his sentence as he sobbed a little bit louder as the guilt was eating away at him. He’s been your friend since childhood, how in the world did he not see how much pain you were in?

But before he could beat himself up any further, he felt Iida’s arm tightening around him to try and comfort the boy despite his own mourning. “W-We couldn’t have known… s-she always seemed so… happy… but I… I didn’t even… I-I… I let her smiles convince me that… e-everything was okay… I-I… I failed her… s-she was… in pain and I… m-myself didn’t even…” Iida’s voice cracked as he choked on a sob. He felt just as guilty as his friends did, because it was his job to make sure all of his classmates and friends were all doing good and following the rules. But up until now, he didn’t even think about asking if you or anyone else were feeling okay. And now he realizes that he should have been doing that, especially when had been acting kind of odd. You just seemed so happy he thought you were okay…

“All the time I’ve known her…” Shinsou kept his head turned away as he sat beside himself, not wanting to show his tears as he inhaled and exhaled deeply, “She was always smiling… she even smiled at me… she smiled so much I… thought something didn’t seem right… but I… I pushed her away…” He didn’t know you as well as he wished he did, but you were kind to him at the Sports Festival, even before he got transferred into this course. But he just had to act like the cold, tough guy and push you away even when you were still kind to him…

Never in his life has he ever wished he could go back in time to reverse that…

“O-Oui but… it’s… s-sometimes the ones who smile most… a-are the ones suffering I… I can understand that… I… I should have… talked to her more…” Aoyama knew what it was like to hide behind a smile, and he had a feeling that you were also hiding your true emotions with a smile but he couldn’t find it in him to actually have a heart-to-heart with you. And he had never felt so bad about anything else in his life…

You were his friend; you were their friend. Not just them, you were Class 1-A’s friend.

As Izuku and his friends grieved and cried for you, the rest of your classmates were all doing the same and crying together, fearing for you and praying that you were still with them. Nobody could stop thinking about how they saw your body, and the suicide note that Izuku had shown them all. All of them were missing you terribly, and were scared as hell and full of remorse because neither of them knew just how much you were going through all by yourself…

“(Y-Y/N)… please be okay… Oh G-God… I-I can’t believe she… I-I can’t believe I d-d-didn’t…” Kirishima couldn’t hold back his sobs as he sat on the floor, hands covering his eyes as he tried to stop the tears, but he just couldn’t. He just talked to you yesterday and the entire time he didn’t even notice how you used your smiles to shield your real feelings. He felt so stupid and like the most worthless friend ever but he refused to pity himself, all he would think about was you and he just hoped that you were still with them so they could all help you recover physically and emotionally.

Sitting beside him were Kaminari and Sero, who were both crying together as Sero had buried his face in Kaminari’s neck, the two boys hugging each other. “I-I didn’t even know she was going through anything…” Kaminari had hit on you a few times, and you always, always smiled at him even when he thought he looked so dumb in front of you. And god he loved those smiles because it made him feel like less of an idiot.

But now that he knew that they were fake, he felt even more like an idiot and absolutely horrible because he felt like he was too dumb to see that you were hiding your pain. “N-None of us did… like Iida said... w-we couldn’t have... known...” Sero gently reminded him, even though he felt so bad because he was just as unaware of your pain as well.

“I-I… I really hope she makes it… I-I want to just… tell her how much I love her…” Mina hugged Yaoyorozu and Jirou tightly as the three girls cried together. “M-Me too… I want to… I want to hug her and… (Y/N) was… my friend… I wish I just… c-could have… b-been there for her more… a-and maybe she… w-wouldn’t have…” Yaoyorozu couldn’t hold back her tears as Jirou rubbed her back gently.

“I-It’s… it’s okay… we… really couldn’t have known but… I… wish I could have done something too…” She expressed her own regret as she felt Hagakure hug the girls and cry, for once the cheerful girl had nothing to say. Every time she tried she would just cry, just like everyone else.

Not even the calm, collected ones such as Ojiro, Satou, Kouda, Tokoyami or Shouji could hold back their tears as they had quietly cried together, with Shouji even carrying Mineta who was just as sad as the others and crying for you. They were almost hiding from the others but not hiding their grief. However, the only person that was hiding their grief was none other than their belligerent classmate Bakugou.

He stood all alone in his room, sitting on his bed with his hands curling in his disheveled hair, grunting in anger as he willed himself to not cry but his body refused as tears rapidly streamed down his tightly shut eyes.

“Dammit… (Y/N)…” He wanted to be angry, he was angry, but he was also miserable, depressed and horrified. He’d never tell it to anyone, but he did care about you. Even if you were still close to stupid Deku, he grew up with you too, it was hard to not have some sentiment especially since you always found someway to tag along with them or have at least one class with him.

All the years Bakugou had known you he always thought you were annoying because you were smiling all the time. He wasn’t blind or stupid, he knew whenever you acted kind of weird, and ever since the two of you got into UA along with Deku he noticed your smiles seemed off. They were as radiant as ever and you always seemed to beam with this stupid energy that he couldn’t stand half the time, but he knew that they couldn’t possibly be real.

And now he knew that they definitely weren’t real. Now that Deku read your letter, he almost felt horrible for not doing shit to prevent that from happening. He might have found you annoying but you were his good friend once upon a time…

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed you away the same way he did to Deku. He always did like you better than him…

Bakugou might have been alone, but he was grieving just like the rest of his classmates for you. And they just prayed that you would survive. You were still in the hospital and all they could do was hope and they each told themselves that if you came out of this alive that they would do everything they could to let you know that they love you.

ONE WEEK LATER…

“SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

“(Y/N)!!”

“OH MY GOD!!”

“SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

“IS SHE BREATHING?!

“WHAT THE HELL JUST HAPPENED?!”

“SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

“OH GOD! OH MY GOD SOMEONE HELP HER!!”

“NO (Y/N)!! OH GOD NO!!”

“SOMEBODY CALL AN AMBULANCE!!”

The screams murmured in your ears even as you slowly regained some vision, but not all of it. Everything felt fuzzy, like you were floating on air and for a moment you felt like you were finally able to fly. But why couldn’t you move or glide away? What was going on…?

Was this a mistake?

It had to have been a mistake…

You just wanted a way out…

As your (E/C) eyes slowly opened, you blinked to see an unfamiliar room and then the sounds of beeping became more apparent to you. But you winced as soon as you tried to move as you saw casts on your arm and legs, it hurt just to even move. It hurt so fucking much…

This was a hospital room…

You remember now…

You jumped out the window of your classmate, thinking that the story fall would kill you, almost hoping it would kill you. But it didn’t…

Because your teacher and classmates were there in time to make sure it didn’t…

Your classmates…

Your teacher…

The thought made a fresh wave of tears glisten your eyes as they streamed down your face. A strangled gasp coming from your throat as you thought shamefully of what they might think now, there’s no way you could see them again now after this. Maybe they won’t even know you’re gone… you almost prayed they wouldn’t…

However, after a few moments of being alone in this white room, you had no idea how long it truly had been until you saw the doctor gently calling your name. “Hello… are you there with me…?”

You could see them, and you could hear them too as you gave a weak nod of acknowledgement, “It’s okay sweetie…” It was a woman, and she was giving you such sad eyes, sympathetic as if she were trying to keep her tears at bay, and you could hear her saying that your parents had been called and so were your classmates and teachers.

Oh God…

Not your parents, not your classmates…

Part of you was relieved, but also scared as hell…

You knew they were coming, all of them. And you couldn’t bear to face them, you just couldn’t. So you closed your eyes, trying to pretend that you were somewhere else, that none of this happened and that you weren’t even here. Yet, the sounds of rushing feet were enough to break any delusion you attempted to create as your body violently tremored the second the door open…

There they all were, all of your classmates all rushing in as the doctor understood that they all desperately wanted to see their classmate. Several eyes met your wide (E/C) eyes which made you increasingly anxious as your heart pounded in your chest and you broke out in a cold sweat as you inhaled sharply and exhaled shakily.

You could see Izuku, Bakugou, Todoroki, Iida, Ochaco, Tsuyu and Kirishima, and Shinsou and Yaoyorozu, Jirou, Ashido, Sero, Aoyama, Tokoyami, Kaminari, Shoji, Satou, Ojiro, Koda, Hagakure (sort of because she’s invisible) and even Mineta…

All of them.

I finally wanna be alive I finally wanna be alive I don't wanna die today I don't wanna die

Tears immediately springing to their eyes when they saw that your eyes were still open, and that you were still alive. And Izuku, Ochaco, Iida and Tsuyu were the first ones to rush over to you to gently hug you as they all burst into tears.

“(Y/N)!!” They each shouted as they went over to your bed, relieved as Ochaco held your good hand and Izuku was the first to gently hug you. You couldn’t hold back anymore as you let the tears fall as you buried your face into your dear friend’s shoulder.

“I’m sorry…”

You said to every one of them, and you could only hear everyone suddenly burst into tears as they all began to talk and say that no one was upset with you, that nothing was your fault and that it was all okay, that everything would be okay because they were here for you now.

“(Y-Y/N) I’m sorry… I’m sorry I c-couldn’t…” Izuku however, wanted to apologize as he tearfully held onto you, having felt horrible that he couldn’t tell that you were in this much pain.

“Izuku… no… I… don’t be…” You shook your head, pressing your forehead against his to comfort him as his cries quieted a little bit. Slowly, you peered up to see Iida and Todoroki looking right at you. Iida wiping his eyes as he tried to smile in relief but he was just as guilty as Izuku was. “I am sorry (Y/N)! As class representative and as your friend I should have paid more attention to the well-being of all my classmates!”

You wanted to chuckle, but it came out rueful, “You guys… can’t apologize for this… I mean… it’s not easy to open up about… I didn’t want you guys to know that I was dealing with a lot of things… I didn’t think any of you could understand but… I am sorry… I’m sorry for… all of this…” Reassuring your classmates, stray tears slowly rolled down your face as you saw Todoroki wiping his own tears away, only for more to well in his eyes.

“It’s not your fault… we can’t help the things we feel…” He sympathized with you, knowing full well what it’s like to keep everything inside only for it to bubble until it spills over and suddenly lose control. You couldn’t help but smile at this, of course Todoroki understood that…

However, your smile instantly fell as soon as you saw Bakugou’s fierce glare, except there was more fear and anger swirling in those eyes with lingering fury that you could clearly see. “Katsuki…” You were terrified of his reaction the most, which is why you were shocked the second you closed your eyes and found his arms coming around you gently as Izuku pulled away.

“K-Katsuki… I…”

“Shut up… just… shut up…” His voice cracked a little bit as you could feel his tears dripping into your neck. “Look (Y/N)… I don’t know what it is you’re going through… but… I’ll help you through it… so don’t even think about arguing with me about it… there’s no way I’m leaving you alone in this...” Bakugou was as firm as ever, and yet he was also weirdly gentle as he looked at you with a rare, soft gaze that just made more of your tears fall as you gave a quiet, breathless chuckle.

“We all will.” Izuku heard his other childhood friend talking, and for once Bakugou agreed with him.

“We’ll all help you (Y/N)! That’s a promise! Y-You don’t have to feel alone in this…” Kirishima spoke up, going over closer so he could hug you, which you happily took in with a small smile.

“I know we can’t make it all go away… but we can at least be there for you, give you endless support…” You looked over at Yaoyorozu, who was tearing up as she talked. And you understood what she meant, no doubt that you were going to have to see a doctor and go to therapy even and be on suicide watch for a while.

You nodded though. It wasn’t away yet, but seeing all of your friends here surrounding you and giving you their love just to make you feel better, secure and loved was enough to make it feel like it went away for just a little bit.

“(L/N)…”

But then you heard Aizawa’s low voice, and that prompted everyone to perk up and gasp as they let their teacher in. You were amazed at how he looked somehow even more exhausted than normal, like he hadn’t slept in days as he wiped his eyes once he looked at you.

“Mr. Aizawa… I’m sorry…”

“Stop that. Stop saying you’re sorry.” He quickly reprimanded you, but his voice was tender even when he started telling you what the doctors had told him. You were definitely going to the psychiatric unit for a little bit and speak to some doctors about everything that happened, and they also suggested some group therapy from the suicide hotline and professionals. Which made you sigh as you nodded, knowing that you would have to do all of that for your own sake and better your own health, physical and mental.

I finally wanna be alive I finally wanna be alive I don't wanna die I don't wanna die

“Don’t worry (Y/N)… you won’t be alone in this anymore. We’ll be there with you all the way…” Izuku saw how pensive you seemed and he smiled at you, gently holding your good hand. Touched, you gave him a small but happy smile as your cheeks warmed a little bit.

“And that’s a promise. We’re here for you (Y/N).” Iida was quick to follow Izuku’s lead, although tearful he couldn’t have sounded more determined as you saw all of your emotional classmates giving you nods and soft little smiles as they all said your name and swore to help you and be there for you. It was almost overwhelming as your heart swelled up with all of these wild emotions and you bit down on your bottom lip in an attempt to hold back any more cries. But it was impossible to stop your flooding tears from spilling down your cheeks as you broke down in heartfelt sobs.

“T-Thank you… e-everyone… thank you… s-so much…”

For once, you were happy to be alive, happy to be among people that made you remember something.

You truly are important, and that you truly do matter.

I don't wanna cry anymore I wanna feel alive I don't even wanna die anymore Oh I don't wanna I don't wanna I don't even wanna die anymore...

If you have any suicidal thoughts, or have had suicidal thoughts or even just need someone to talk to about intrusive thoughts or just need to talk to someone about anything don’t hesitate to call 1-800-273-6255, the Suicide Hotline.

And remember that your life is important and that your life matters. YOU matter.

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sevenstarsinning · 4 years

Note

Something about king vegeta talking to vegeta openly around s/o about him and whether or not he bottoms out his mate makes me wheeze and i need it

I found the part I was talking about. It apparently started during a breakfast conversation and ended at dinner. Enjoy this trainwreck lol

"There you two are. Late night?" The King smirked.

"Late morning is more like it." You played into the role.

You noticed Vegeta tense at your comment as he took his seat next to you.

"I see you're getting along better this morning. Good. You won't produce any heirs with disdain." He commented.

You nearly choked on your sip of water at the word heirs. It seemed the King was expecting multiple children like you were some kind of baby factory.

"How was the first night together?" His father asked. His nonchalance made you question whether you heard him right.

"It was fine, father. We have no interest in discussing our personal activities over breakfast," Vegeta answered before you had to.

The mood was set and all you could do was brace yourself for the most uncomfortable breakfast in history.

"If it's a problem with stamina, then maybe you should lay off the training until she's with child." He continued as if it was nothing uncommon to discuss his son's sex life.

"There are no problems." Vegeta snapped but quickly retreated into his plate as he stuffed his face.

"And you," he addressed you, "your father said you were fertile."

You coughed on the food you were chewing and felt your cheeks flush. Vegeta glanced at you with a smirk, enjoying the embarrassment you were experiencing.

"He said what?" You asked before you could stop yourself. The situation was getting more uncomfortable by the second.

"That you're fertile like all of the women in your bloodline," the King repeated between bites of his food, "do I need to have an exam done on both of you to make sure everything is in proper working order?"

"No!" You said in unison.

"There could be any number of things. Low sperm count-"

"Father!" Vegeta exclaimed as his silverware dropped to his plate.

"You'll understand the importance of continuing our bloodline when you're King and have one heir who refused to take a mate." He explained.

You glanced at Vegeta, wondering why he didn't want a mate. Was it a fear or just lack of interest in children?

"I'm sure I'll be pregnant soon enough." You wanted to reassure him so he'd move on from the conversation.

"Oh, you will be. Your sole purpose is to produce an heir," he said, pushing his plate aside to focus his full attention on you and Vegeta.

"You're to only attend palace gatherings, your joining ceremony, and meals. The remainder of your time is to be spent on impregnating her."

Your anger was close to bubbling to the surface and you could feel it practically radiating off of Vegeta.

You opened your mouth but Vegeta stood up and pushed his chair back.

"If that's the case then we should get back to our room." He stopped you from saying something stupid that would get you both killed.

Before you could say anything, he grabbed you and pulled you with him. Once you were far enough away he released your hand.

"Thanks for th-"

"Do not mistake that for interest in you. It was the only way to stop his incessant prying."

"I didn't think that was interest in me, I was just thanking you for putting an end to it." You crossed your arms and slowed your pace, fighting back tears at the entire ordeal. It wasn't like you to cry, especially in front of someone else, but everything hit you at once.

The realization that your life was really coming down to whether or not your future husband that despised you could get you pregnant. There was absolutely no way out. You were going to get tossed away, it was just a matter of when.

"There will be no heir and there will be no mating." He continued.

"Good. I don't want either, especially with you." You felt the tears threaten so you took off down the long corridor without another word.

Your chest was heavy as you walked, trying not to get overwhelmed but it was difficult. It all came down to your ability to reproduce and nothing more.

It didn't take long for you to get lost in the massive palace. The upside of getting lost was it gave you something else to focus on. You found a terrace at the end of a long corridor and made your way outside. A small wooden bench to the right of the door looked inviting enough.

You sat down and pulled your knees to your chest as you looked out at the beautiful view. Life had taken such a surreal turn, you expected to wake up from the nightmare at any second but it didn't happen no matter how hard you concentrated.

"This is my bench," Vegeta said.

Your eyes shot open to find him standing in front of you with his arms crossed.

"I don't see your name on it." You challenged him even though you'd rather just leave.

"Everything here belongs to me. You're a guest." He refused to budge.

"Soon it'll belong to me too so I should be able to try it out." You got even more settled on the bench.

"You're not staying. As soon as my father realizes you're not getting pregnant, you're gone."

"Does my life really mean so little? I could die," you took a shaky breath and tried to keep more tears at bay, "I didn't ask for this and I know you didn't either, but your life isn't at stake."

"That's not my problem." He leaned against the wall, refusing to sit next to you.

"You mean it doesn't directly impact you so it doesn't matter." You corrected him.

"Why should I care what happens to a worthless Saiyan like you?" He snapped.

"Because there will only be more after me and at least I was willing to play along. But not now." You stood up and pushed past him.

You decided to get back at the Prince. If you were going to die anyways, then you might as well have some fun doing it.

The next day you waited until the maid came into the room to clean up, deciding to put some information in her ear that you knew would get back to the King.

By lunchtime, you were pacing while you waited for Vegeta to return from wherever the hell he disappeared to.

"Woman, time for another interrogation from my father," he announced from outside of the door.

"No shit, I've been waiting for you to show up " you snapped, brushing past him to head towards the dining room.

"Watch your tone and slow down." He grabbed your hand and pulled you back just before you crossed the threshold into the room to find King Vegeta waiting. He didn't bother with pleasantries and fell right into the plan you had orchestrated.

"It has been brought to my attention that you're having trouble getting an erection, son."

Vegeta's face turned blood red immediately, "I'm not- that's- who told you that?!"

"Doesn't matter. The doctor will be by to check you out and then I've hired a consultant to watch the two of you together."

The smirk from your face dropped, "watch us do what?"

"Have sex. We need to make sure you're doing everything properly to produce an heir."

"What?!" You both shouted. The King sat back in his chair and waited for his meal to be placed in front of him.

"I don't need anyone watching me do that, father. Your information is wrong, it's the woman's fault. She's incapable of producing her own lubrication."

You nearly snorted at how procedural he made it sound, "are you serious right now? I have no issues getting wet!"

"Maybe if you wouldn't cry so much during then I'd be able to get off." You chided.

"You insolent little-"

"Enough! You'll both be examined then." The King shouted, shutting you both up immediately.

You sat down along with Vegeta and ate in silence. Your plan had completely backfired and not only did you have to fuck each other, someone would be watching and reporting back to the King.

"After you're examined, you'll be meeting with the consultant in your quarters," the King announced as he stood, "when you're finished eating, meet the doctor in the infirmary."

As soon as he walked away, Vegeta glared at you.

"Are you happy now?" He snapped.

"Obviously not. I didn't know he was going to do that." How you were going to get out of it was a complete mystery but you had to find a way.

"We will not be having sex." He blurted out in annoyance with you.

"Best fucking news I’ve heard all day!”

#supremeleadershitlord #lynn

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liloelsagranger · 4 years

Text

One night in December ( # rocketshipping oneshot) - Merry Christmas to my #rocketshipping family

Hey my dear friends, this is my Christmas gift for you. Thanks for your support, love you! #rocketshipping ahead. To @ndbern-rocketmonsters @ndbernarts @jessicarocket @estrelarabyss @prepareforetrouble @masterstarpikachu @tothestarsabove @teamrocketfanart @thelovelyjessie @webelieveinlovepower @chaosandhope @james-team-rocket @danadiversity @krazy-holly @keksrocket @harmonyrocketeeveon @pok3ship @yesjanii @thecomputergirl @elysiiandream @fugly-chan @batfamfan1 @ghostkitty @pikamofo @eclipsing-dreams @abatwc @emily1037 @texansman20 @inuyashaeienni @zayphantomslayer @cat-0301 @james-kojiro-team-rocket @stjarnflicka @diehardrocketshipper @eclipsing-dreams and everyone else <3

One night in December

Completely lost in thought, I sat at the bar and watched the singing Meowth on stage. Just like every night. Ever since I got kicked out of the college for future nurses. The talented cat-Pokémon who would work for peanuts held up a mirror of grief, depression and despair to me. « I feel sorry for you, Jessie » he would say while he struck up the next blues song. I cheered him and took a generous sip of the beer in front of me. I tried to let the malty taste of beer melt on my tongue and recover from the strains of the last days. What more could I do with my life? I was a loser, a good-for-nothing, not even capable of learning simplest medical terms and techniques. Why did I even waste another thought on a life in uniform, surrounded by illness and suffering? Because I wanted to help. Because I wanted to prove to the world out there that I had what it takes to make something of myself! I’m not just a hopeless orphan! I’m strong, beautiful and deserve a chance ! I want to decide freely about my life, but fate treated me unkindly. Used by the state, screwed over by men, my life story. I took another big sip, trying to avoid the prying eyes of a young man sitting next to me. He looked quite passable with his lavender locks and the piercing emerald green eyes, but my past has taught me to be careful. He could be just another guy who gives me a hard time, even though he looked anything but dangerous. In fact, he looked as devastated as me. A shy smile flitted across his face.

« Hey, do you need that bottle cap ? » he asked, pointing at the metal seal on the bar counter. I cocked an eyebrow. That was by far the lamest pick-up line I’ve every heard. Nevertheless, he had earned my attention with this question. «Help yourself » I replied. His eyes flashed for a brief moment as he examined the bottle cap. « A really rare find, thank you » he grinned and stowed his precious treasure in his pocket. How pathetic! How miserable must a person be when he feels joy for a bottle cap ? This man became more and more interesting. Judging by his looks, women hat to lie at his feet. Yet here he sits, all alone, collecting garbage. «My name is James» he introduced himself. «Jessie» we shook hands. «Tell me, Jessie. What brings you to this dump so close to Christmas? Isn’t your family waiting for you? A loving family that appreciates you and cares for you ? Who gives you freedom to develop and takes your dreams seriously ? » I felt a deep sadness. What he told me only existed in fairy tales, a picture-book family is nothing more than a fraud. « Family’s overrated, James » I said, « besides, I really like that singing Meowth» we both laughed.

« Can I get you something to drink ? » James pulled out his wallet. A lot of green bills jumped out at me. ‘Great, a stuck-up aristocrat. A rich, spoiled mama’s boy. That’s all I needed’ I was about to get up and crawl into another corner of the bar, but he held me back. «Please, don’t go! It’s not what it looks like. I’m not a pompous schmuck! To be honest, I’m on the run from this, » he pointed at his money. « Who would voluntarily run away from so much money?» I sat back on my seat waiting for his answer. «Money isn’t everything, Jessie. Not if it means losing your dignity and your will to make free choices » he explained. Then suddenly I realized this man got into trouble and he was seriously trying to escape from it. «Money is all well and good, but if it determines your whole life, you learn to hate it». I couldn’t figure it out at the time.

For a few minutes we sat next to each other in silence while listening to the cat’s singing.£«Would you like to dance?» James reached for my hand an lead me to the dance floor. It was very busy in the bar, people were busting on the floor, so for better or worse we were forced to move closer. I inhaled his tart sent. Although we had known each other for a little over an hour, a certainty unknown to me emanated from him. He was the type of man you would share everything with and who you could trust. He was decent, he laid his hands very carefully on my hips, fearing that he might break me otherwise. «What do you do during the day, Jessie?» he asked. It was incredibly loud on the dance floor, I almost had to shout my answer. « I actually wanted to be a nurse. Unfortunately, that dream has been shattered» disappointed, I let my head down. James lifted my chin and smiled at me. «Don’t give up, Princess ! You’re going to be great, I’m sure of it » his words were so motivating, making the corners of my mouth twitch. It’s been a long time since anyone gave me hope. It was good to hear that encouragment from James. « As a girl, I always wanted to be famous, a real star » I whispered. James looked at me with the kindest eyes. « There she is!»

«What about you?» I wanted to know. He made me twirl around. I wrapped my arms around his neck. « No one has ever asked me that before. I want to be free and my biggest wish is to become a Pokéringer» I could see James was having a hard time answering that question. Could I dare? What did I have to lose? I had no family, no home, no job, no boyfriend. «Then let us explore freedom together! With your pocket money we can travel, discover the world, feast and fall in love», romantic nostalgia was flaring up inside of me. It was time for a fresh start, and with James, I would take it. It seemed to me that he was not completely averse to the idea, but then the slap in the face. «It’s not that simple, Jessie. My life is predetermined. I can’t make decisions of my own free will. Tomorrow I’m a prisoner again. I’ll be married by force, so my parents can maintain their image. Everything’s settled, everything’s in order. I’m so sorry » he sighed. How could I be so naive and dream of a happy life? Each time, I was denied it! «Then this is where we parted ways again, James. After all, you were honest with me from the beginning. Farewell!» I didn’t turn around anymore, grabbed my coat, pushed the door open and ran out onto the snowy streets. Thickly wrapped, I strolled through the deserted alleys, only hearing the snow trickling softly. «It always comes down to just me», I rebuked myself for being so naive that I really would have given James a chance. I couldn’t get him out of my mind. So courteous and polite, if a little pathetic and shy. Would it had been funny ? Would we have supported each other? Would he have accompanied me on the road to fame ? Would I have cheered him on when he played for victory high up in the skies ? Questions upon questions, the answers to which I would never know.

« Jessie ! » I could hear a faint voice in the distance, probably fate laughing at me. « Jessie ! » There it was again. It approached with heavy steps. I turned around facing James. He was completely out of breath, his cheeks turning red from the cold. «Jessie» he grabbed my hands. «Forget the money, forget the weight on my shoulders. Ever since I spotted you in that bar today, I can’t think about anything else. You’re so different from the women I know. You’re determined, beautiful and talented. I know you’ve got big plans and I want to be with you every step of the way. We can both buy ourselves free from the shackles of society. We can do our own thing, become an unbeatable team. Jessie», he pulled me closer, so close I could feel his breath on my face. « Let’s be free. Let’s dream again, » he proposed. At first I was speechless and completely taken by surprise. We did not know if it would go wrong, but it was worth a try. I nodded. James smiled as if the heaviest burden had fallen off him. He cupped my face and pressed his lips on mine. I had never experienced such an intense kiss. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a promise. Only the night was our witness. Our lips parted and we looked at each other in silence for a long time. «Yous two can count me in» a familiar voice broke the silence. Meowth tugged at my sleeve. We bent down to him and held each other in our arms. Our little free family.

THE END

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youhadme-at-hella · 4 years

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I'd thought I'd tell a little story during this quarantine, one that people might relate to, especially black women and girls.

I remember the exact moment in my life where I began to feel self-conscious about my body.

I was in 3rd grade, standing in line in the cafeteria, next to my crush, who at the moment was shorter than me. He pointed to my arms, told me they were hairy.

And I didn't really think much of it at time, I probably laughed it off and attempted to change the subject, but here we are, over a decade later, and I still look at my arms and think about how abnormal they are.

I started to develop at an early age - by 4th grade, I needed trainers because my chest "caused a disturbance" for some.

In 5th grade however, that was truly the turning point. Aware of my hairy arms, my developing body, I was standing in line (again with the lines), going into the classroom for the morning, and I was not only taller, I was bigger. All the children surrounding me were visibly smaller. My mind started spinning in that moment. That's all I could think about.

The teacher was at the front of the classroom, and I was looking around, wondering if any of these kids had started shopping in the juniors section already.

I know there were many factors at this point that were weighing on me, but of course at the time I didn't know what that could be. I didn't know that every time I turned on the Disney Channel and aspired to be a Disney Channel star that I was using the actors on this platform as the example I'd set for myself. I didn't know that the fashion magazines in the check-out lines encouraging me to "lose fat fast" was impacting me as I tagged along with my pops to the grocery store. Some might say "societal pressures" but I know better to characterize it as colonial pressures. Not being able to afford the latest trends, not being able to be white with bone straight hair and that photographic thigh gap.

Entering middle school was an entirely different type of hell. My economic situation became more pronounced to me. My dad's girlfriend at the time (not to put him on blast) had offered me some hand-me downs, which I was really excited about because I thought she had style.

One day at her house, she was giving me the clothes to try on, and one article of clothing after the other wasn't fitting. I was absolutely mortified. This was an adult, albeit a "petite" adult, but that didn't matter to me. My understanding was the grown ups were older, therefore they were bigger (not the best logic, I know now). I broke down in her bathroom. I said things about my body that I had never uttered before. I may have thought about saying those things, but I finally made them real.

She tried to console me as best she could, but there was nothing she could do. I was leaving her house empty handed. That was the greatest reminder.

Clearly all of this did nothing for my self-esteem. Horrible things happened in my mind. I started equating my importance and worth to the amount of attention that boys would give me. I became incredibly fixated on my look, in a really unhealthy way, worried about how I appeared to others 24/7. I would cry sometimes in the bathroom if I couldn't get my hair just right. I would avoid eating lunch in the cafeteria because that meant people would stare as I walked up to the line or threw away my trash. I traveled in crowds to blend in, so no one could point me out. My whole personality was based on feeling "pretty" and starving for people to like me. Because the moment that wasn't the case, I absolutely fell apart.

7th grade was a bad year. I hated school and most places where I was required to be in public. I started having panic attacks, anxiety attacks, sometimes in the bathroom at school. I think I lost a lot of friends because I went into a shell. My family experienced more obvious economic hardships, my uncle was taken to prison, interrupting our entire family dynamic. All of these played roles.

I was very good at hiding a lot of this though. I was a cheerleader, I mostly tried to display a sunny disposition to avoid being questioned. And I'm not saying there weren't things I enjoyed about life. My family was (is) incredible, my core friends made me laugh, I loved cheerleading, in fact, I would get so lost in it. I was the happiest when all I was doing was training, hanging with cheer mates, it was the best distraction. But at this point my life took an extremely dark turn.

In 7th grade I started to starve myself. There was no other way to describe what was wrong with me other than depression. I wasn't even familiar with the concept, but that's what it was. I was so distraught, not just by my appearance, but with everything happening in my life. I ate as little as possible, most of the time just to entertain my parents, who had noticed a significant change in my behavior. I didn't see that I was losing weight. I couldn't see the changes happening to my body. My brain still saw this person at a size I despised, so I continued to torture myself. It wasn't until about three months later, standing in the lobby of McDonald's with my mom, that my charade was over. She turned to me to ask what I'd be having, and I told her I wasn't hungry.

She looked at me sternly and spoke so only I could hear. "Why aren't you eating?" I shrugged my shoulders, "I'm just not that hungry." "I see you. You haven't been eating and now you look sick. You need to eat."

I wanted to break down in the lobby, but I didn't want noses prying into our discussion, so I ordered, picked at my food, then hid bits and pieces inside the wrappers in which they were packaged.

I knew it was wrong of me, but my mom telling me that I was in fact losing weight, made me feel good about myself for the first time in a while.

I got through my first battle with depression and tried to become more positive. When 8th grade came, I vowed that things would be different for me. I started to invest more in fashion, immersing myself with coordinating quirky fun looks on a budget. I didn't realize then that this had all become a coping mechanism.

In my new outfits that I'd put together, I began to feel more confident, like myself, happy with me. It was a much better year by far and these feelings lasted up until about 10th grade.

I had just switched to a majority white school. So my out of the box fashion choices with respect to my developing curves was quickly shot down by the laid back, by the beach Hollister shorts, flip flops and tee.

I was surrounded by girls my age that we tinier than me, once again. I remember these really cute pair of shorts I had designed myself. They were once high rise jeans that I cut up to hot pants, giving it a bit of fringe and sewing some fabric behind the parts that I'd deliberately distressed. I loved these shorts partly because I had designed them myself.

One day I wore them to school and these white girls who sat behind me snickered and whispered, "she is way too big to wear those shorts."

I threw them away when I got home, staring in the garbage bin, fighting everything in me to not retrieve them.

And I started to look at my body intensely again. Fashion was no longer a safe haven because it was now being used as a weapon against me. I had nothing to hide behind. My insecurities would be forced to take center stage in my brain again.

I hated the way I looked, every year I would look at photos from the previous year and say, "man I wish I could go back to that size" not realizing at that time that I hated who I was then too.

This is a long story but I promise I'm getting to the point.

This is hard for me to say, but at this point in my life, I'm the biggest I've ever been. I've done fad diets, tried all kinds of workout regimens, weight fluctuating over the years, to no avail. I eventually grew demoralized, feeling like no matter how hard I try, I lack the patience and discipline to reach my fitness goals.

But it's taken all of this time for me to realize this struggle hasn't been about my health and fitness goals. Up to now I've only had aspirations to "look good to attract positive attention", and I've carried on up to now not being able to look at myself and love what I see at any point of my young life.

I can't recall a time I looked at myself and said, "I'm beautiful, I'm worth it, I love the person that I am, I am happy with what I've accomplished, I am a good person." All this time I've repeatedly called myself all of those things I did that day in the bathroom of by dad's ex-girlfriend. And many more insults that I've learned over the years.

No matter the positive or negative changes my body has gone through, I haven't been able to see them. So to that extent, my goals are impossible to reach. I've never been satisfied with myself, ever.

So what now?

This struggle isn't rooted merely in some superficial beauty standards. How did these standards even get here? And why have I tried all my life to reach them? That question is far more easier to answer.

I just long for the day that I look at myself and say, "I accept you for who you are" just as I have done for others. I long for the day that I can consider my reflection beautiful, just because I think so, and not because of anyone else. I don't know when that day will come. There are moments when things are good, I feel like I'm almost there, only to be crushed by my unresolved reality of dangerously low self-esteem.

This isn't something I wrote for an outpouring of sympathy, a bunch of "you're beautiful just the way you are"'s. It won't make a difference. It's not the antidote. I wrote this because I know there are black women and girls like me, still trying to answer this question, heartbroken by their own reflection.

I will say this, though. I was inspired to write this because today I completed day eleven of a fourteen day workout challenge. For some that's no big deal, for others it won't count until all fourteen days are completed. But for me, it's a huge accomplishment. I have never in my life worked out consecutively for this amount of time. I know it's not long, but for someone who is not physically active or athletic, this is a huge step. I'm doing this thing at my own pace, even though I'm still not quite sure I'm doing it for the right reasons.

I know I'm not, but I'm partly hoping that at some point it will click for me, and I'll work out beyond the fourteen days, because I should have more to live for than just the opinions of others.

Stay tuned.

#long post #mental health #body image #depression tw #anxiety tw #panic tw #mental illness tw #mental illness #black women #black women mental health #black girls #quarantine #body positivity

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billyhardgrove · 4 years

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all i want for christmas is booze (b.h)

A/N: Just the final christmas installment. I don’t like the way this turned out but it’s officially christmas morning where i am and I’m too tired to fix the parts i don’t like. Anyways hope you enjoy and MERRY CHRISTMAS!! XX

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS BOOZE

Pairing: Billy& Reader Word Count: 3.1k approx. Warning: Swearing, Smoking

Summary: You’re about to head over to your parents for Christmas until you find the one guy that you despise sitting on a bench by himself.

PART 3 | (part 2 here)

It wasn’t long before you’d arrived at your parent’s house.

Your sister and her boyfriend had given you sceptical looks when you had clambered into the car along with an unexpected guest, but you just shrugged them off, giving them a look of your own before starting the car and driving off.

Billy was quiet the whole way there, which maybe you should’ve anticipated. The only person he would know tonight would be you and maybe that intimidated him a little. For the most part he never made great impressions with parents or families, with them always finding some problem with his attitude or disapproval with his appearance, and typically he wouldn’t care, but for some reason, part of him didn’t want to fuck this up tonight.

He was still trying to figure out where this burst of kindness you held came from, and why in the world did you think to do such a gesture towards him. He didn’t know of people that did nice things out of the good of their heart, especially if his home life was anything to go by, so this was a first for him.

Listening to you chatter ridiculously with your sister and her boyfriend amused him a little. To see you in such a good mood, getting along with people, cracking jokes, smiling, laughing, it was all foreign to him. He had never experienced you so care free and… happy.

Though maybe part of him didn’t know what it was like to be that last one.

Pulling up to your parents’ driveway, you quickly parked the car and shut the engine off before stepping out. Billy followed suit, though still hovering awkwardly by his side of the car as you retrieved your presents from the boot. Your sister and boyfriend tried to make polite conversation with him but he remained closed and quiet. He was uncomfortable to say the least.

He only moved from his spot as you all made your way to the front door, and you made sure to hover behind your sister and in front of Billy so as to hopefully put the blonde-haired boy at ease somewhat. You tried to give him a smile, but he didn’t return it, his blank stare bothering you ever more. You hoped he wouldn’t be like this all night for that’d be exhausting. Maybe if he got a beer or two in him, that’d help, you thought.

But he already has half a bottle of jack in him and that’s put him in his current state, your subconscious reminded.

Shaking your head absentmindedly, you rang the doorbell, eager to get into the warmth.

It was your auntie who answered the door, all warm and cheery, the bubbly she’d most likely already let herself go on reaching her enthused personality.

“Girls, how wonderful to see you!” Her loud voice filtered through your ears and you could’ve sworn a large flock of birds flew from the trees at the sudden loud noise of her voice. “And Jeremy, darling, how could I forget you? How have you been?” Hugs and kisses were shared as you each made your way into the house but it wasn’t until you stepped toward the doorway that Billy was revealed to your aunt, still not making any movement to come forward.

God, part of you hated this Billy more than the arrogant one you were used to. It was just so… not him.

“And who’s this?” Your aunt’s tone was surprised yet in a pleasant way, no sound of disgust or disapproval like Billy had been expecting. “Y/N, you didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.” Your aunt made a face at you in teasing accusation. Widening your eyes, you felt your cheeks heat up at what she was insinuating.

“No, no, we’re not dating. Not at all.” You shook your head rigorously as though to prove your point even more.

You dating Billy? You tried to keep your gag reflex at bay. (Ok maybe that was a little dramatic)

“Billy’s just a… uh… he’s my neighbour.” You settled for, because lord knows you weren’t friends, and acquaintances just sounded awkward. Beckoning Billy forward, he finally made the motion of stepping towards the home and towards the doorway. “Billy this is my Aunt Sandra.” You introduced him, and Billy only gave a curt nod at the cheerful women before darting his eyes elsewhere. But his antisocialness seemed to go unnoticed by your slightly tipsy aunt as she suddenly pulled him in for a welcoming hug in which Billy stood stiffly in. But again she didn’t noticed, ushering him inside once more.

Billy let his eyes dart to you, giving you a weird apprehensive look. You gave him small smile in return, letting your hand reach out a gently rub his jacket clad arm in comfort.

“Come in, come in. You guys must be freezing! Let me take your jackets and go ahead into the living room. The fire will warm you up.” Your aunt mothered as you all removed your jackets and handed them to her for her to stow away. Your sister and Jeremy walked through the door into the living room and you were just about to follow when Billy’s hand caught your forearm.

Looking at him, he looked anxious, really anxious, with his eyebrows furrowed and eyes wide, his lip was brought between his lips. “Are you ok, Billy? You don’t look so good.” You told him, concern glistening within your eyes.

“I just need some air.” He told you, but you knew that wasn’t it. Leaving it be, you nodded your head before telling him to go ahead, and that you would be out in a second after you grabbed him a glass of water. Maybe he could do with sobering up?

Walking into the kitchen, your aunt stood by the oven as she based the turkey and faffed about the counters. You reached for a glass and began to fill it with water when she spoke up. “Is Billy alright? He seemed slightly uncomfortable, or is he just quiet?” You tried not to snort at your aunt’s last words. Billy quiet? In what sane world. Though obviously he wasn’t being himself at the moment.

“He’s fine. Just needed some fresh air is all.” You replied. “He was feeling a little bit sick on the drive over.” You added, making something up to sound convincing. Your aunt nodded, accepting your response though maybe not one hundred percent believing it, she left it be.

“Oh I hope he feels better.” She spoke earnestly. “Maybe he’s just hungry. I’m sure food will make him feel a lot better.” She encouraged, optimistically. And you agreed. But there was something else she was wanting to ask, though she wasn’t certain it was her place. But it was the bubbly she’d had that told her to ask nonetheless. “And, uh, how come he isn’t with his family for Christmas? Not that he’s not welcome here, of course he is, but I’m just wondering.” She rambled, and you sighed. You might as well tell her; it’s not as though she would bring it up to Billy and make things awkward for him, she wasn’t like that.

“He has a difficult home life.” You carefully selected your words, telling her what he hinted though soon realising you didn’t exactly know the extent of it yourself. All you knew really was that he was by himself this holiday. “He says he’d rather be drunk and alone on Christmas than with his family so I told him he could join us.”

Your aunt nodded once more in understanding. She always had been considerate and sympathetic for anyone that she knew and it was one of the many things you loved about her. Swiftly changing the subject, she spoke up. “He sure is handsome though, isn’t he? Are you sure you guys aren’t dating?”

You laughed at her light-heartedness, shaking your head no. “Definitely not.” You replied, giving her a smile before taking the glass of water and heading towards the front door. Though you couldn’t help but let your mind rile at the idea of you and Billy dating. Wait, what? You had to stop yourself short, not wanting to entertain that idea for a second. It was ridiculous.

Opening the door, part of you had expected Billy to have scarpered, nowhere to be seen, but there the boy was sitting on the front step of your aunt’s house, cigarette snug between his frost-bitten lips. Sitting yourself down next to the boy, you bumped your shoulder softly with his, before handing him the glass of water you had received for him.

“Thanks.” He mumbled around his cigarette, before taking the glass from you. He set it next to his feet on the ground before looking up to the sky and continuing to smoke in silence. The boy seemed to have calmed down a little compared to how frantic he looked inside the house, so that was good you supposed.

“So…” You spoke, unsure of what exactly to say. You knew it was no use prying the reason for his odd behaviour since he definitely wouldn’t tell you, but it was at this time that you realised a civil conversation had never occurred between you and Billy and it felt oddly unsettling. Small talk just wasn’t a part of whatever relationship you had with Billy and now that you felt you were in the position to start it, it felt rather unnatural. So you spoke clumsily. “How you doing?”

Billy’s eyes glanced towards you for a second before they returned to the sky. His hand reached to take the cigarette from his lips before exhaling the smoke as he scoffed at your question. “That was painful for you to say, wasn’t it?” He smirked slightly, poking fun at how awkwardly the question left your lips.

Letting out a light laugh, you pushed his arm playfully. “Hey, give me a break. We both know this is new territory for us.”

Billy nodded his head, turning his face to you with a genuine smile in agreement to your statement and it was something you hadn’t really seen before. Billy’s go-to expressions were either anger or a cocky smirk so for a smile to be directed at you made your breath catch in your throat lightly. Or perhaps it was more because it was a rather charming sight.

Staring at the boy a little longer as he returned his attention to the starry sky, you asked him again, this time more seriously and confidently. “How are you really, though?”

He shrugged his shoulders, not knowing what to say. “Numb from the cold.” He joked, avoiding the answer you were really searching for.

“I wonder why. Could it be because you’re sitting outside in December when you could be inside by the fire?”

“Perhaps.” He shrugged again.

Another silence met the two of you, this one more comfortable than the last. But it was when Billy had finished that cigarette and was halfway through another that he spoke up again.

“My family…” He began, pausing for a moment as he contemplated how much he wanted to give away. He wasn’t one to open up ever. “My family doesn’t know kindness. They never have and so when your aunt was so… so nice, it caught me off guard.” Glancing down to the ground, he didn’t dare look at you in fear of what expression you wore on your face. Probably mockery, he thought. Though that was the furthest from the truth. “My family doesn’t know kindness and so I never expected it from yours, or I at least never expected it to be directed toward me. I just, I have no idea how to act in that sort of situation.” He admitted, taking another drag from his cigarette.

“That’s ok, Billy.” You said, and there was nothing but understanding in your voice. “It makes sense that you acted the way you did.” Turning his head to look at you, your face wasn’t mocking but it wasn’t concerned either. It was simply accepting, and truthfully that was what Billy wanted. He couldn’t be bothered to endure the sympathetic, ‘aw, that’s so sad’ conversation and so for you to respond in the ideal way relieved the boy a great deal. “You don’t have to worry about stepping out of line or offending anyone. My family are very laid back and can take what they dish out so you don’t need to be on guard tonight. But if at any moment it gets overwhelming again, just let me know and we can come outside again, or maybe find an empty room in the house where my tits won’t freeze off.” You told him, your hands coming up to rub your arms.

“Thanks.” He gave you another small smile before taking drag from his cigarette once more. “But how else I’m I to see your nipples through your shirt if we don’t go outside.” He added, nodding his head to your chest teasingly and you couldn’t help but chuckle at him. The Billy you were used to was shining through again.

Snatching his cigarette from his hand, you stood up and turned to face him before taking a drag. “C’mon, dinner will be ready soon.” You told him, chucking the last of the cigarette to the ground.

The pair of you were socialising in the living room with your family. After coming back inside, you had introduced Billy to the rest of your family, your uncle, your cousins and your younger brother. He had still been slightly reserved but he was clearly a little more comfortable after being outside.

You were laughing at a witty comment your uncle had made when Billy hadn’t been able to help his eyes as they continuously glanced over at you. Throughout the evening he found himself admiring such little things about you he hadn’t noticed but now appreciated since he was given the chance. How your tongue would occasionally poke between your teeth when you beamed in a particular way, or how your eyes would screw shut when even the smallest of laughs left you. You were another kind of beautiful.

“When are your parents coming?” Billy asked you a little later on, while gazing at your family members sitting in the living room.

Looking down to the ground, you cleared your throat for a moment before replying. “They’re not.”

“Huh?” Billy looked to you as you just gave him a soft smile. “Why?”

“Well, uh, my mum… she actually passed away a couple of years ago.” You admitted, though your voice was strong upon talking about it, a sign that you weren’t searching for pity, you were merely stating a fact. “And my dad is with his new family elsewhere so…”

“Oh,” Billy frowned, not knowing what to say. Normally he would’ve said he was sorry but you weren’t looking for that so he stayed quiet. Part of him felt a little guilty as he recalled accusing you of having a perfect family earlier that same night when in fact that wasn’t the case at all. And you could’ve thrown that in his face but instead you had said nothing and instead had decided to share your Christmas with him. He was slowly getting to know you after all this time of assuming things about you, and he was beginning to realise that perhaps the two of you weren’t all that different.

“It’s fine though because all of my family are right here.” You shrugged, giving him another smile before taking a sip of your mulled wine.

Just then, before any more words could be shared between the two of you, your aunt’s singing voice was calling everyone for dinner.

The Christmas feast was delicious, with turkey and ham and stuffing and pigs-in-blankets, with carrots and parsnip and potatoes and Brussel sprouts, clinking cutlery and noisy chatter enveloped the house for the next hour. And as time went on, you noticed how Billy started to leave his shell more and more, as he realised it was safe to do that here, with your family. At one point he had even been in deep conversation with your aunt as he had been helping to put dishes away after dinner, though you chose to ignore the fact that the two of them went quiet upon realising you had walked in.

Towards the end of the evening, when your uncle and favourite cousin were taking their post-dinner nap while the rest of the family were playing silly board games, you and Billy were stood facing each other, leaning against either side of the living room doorway as the pair of you chatted. Billy was a lot happier than he had been when you first bumped into him, as it was hard not to notice the ever growing frequent smiles that graced his handsome face throughout the night. It had been a wonderful Christmas, and you never expected it to turn out the way it did, especially the part in which you and Billy were actually getting along.

“So once this night is over, we go back to the way things were, right?” Billy asked, recalling what you had said earlier on in the evening. He was smirking lightly at you as his shoulder leaned against the doorway casually. “We go back to hating each other?”

“That’s the plan.” You agreed humorously, looking up at him through your lashes.

Both of you knew things definitely wouldn’t be going back to the way they were before that night, before Christmas. But Billy played along anyway, and he used it as the perfect opportunity to do something he had perhaps always wanted, but tonight it was more meaningful than he ever meant it to be.

Pushing himself from the wall, Billy took a step closer to you, so close to where you could smell his cologne. Smiling down at you wordlessly, you gazed at him your face pulling in slight confusion at the way he was acting. One of his hands brushed a few strands of hair as he placed them behind your ear and your eyes widened at the flirty action. “Billy what the fuck-“

“For once would you just shut up?” He cut you off, grinning at you before finally leaning in, his lips pressing against yours with his hand cupping your cheek. It was a gentle kiss, nothing hungry or rough but sweet and caring. And you felt giddy, your stomach fluttering in a way that made you dizzy.

But you weren’t aware of the mistletoe dangling above the two of you, positioned there by a certain aunt; you weren’t aware that Christmas had given Billy the perfect excuse to act on the growing feelings he had started to have that night; and you weren’t aware that that night, that Christmas had been the beginning of something wonderful.

Lemme know what you thought!

43 notes · View notes