#i didn’t want to be annoying by posting too much low effort stuff

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

The Perfect Halloween Look - Gerard Way x Reader

Summary: You are attending the college Halloween party, not sure where you are standing with your friend Gerard, when he asks you to do his make up Reader: should be gender neutral (no pronouns used, Reader wears a dress and a hairband as a custume) Word count: 4 177 A/N: This didn’t post on Halloween for me and I don’t care what, it makes me fucking angry, because nothing since I got up went right and this is just the last straw. Take it or leave it. I’m off for today.

With furrowed brows you looked at your reflection in the mirror. For the past thirty minutes you had worked on your face paint for the college Halloween party. You planned on going as a dead cheerleader, already dressed in the short, red and white dress, which you had splattered with fake blood. You had applied a thin layer of white make-up all the way down your neck, giving your natural skin colour a sickly touch. Your eyes and hollows of the cheeks were powdered with black, green and blue eye shadow, making them look fallen in. All in all, you really did not look very healthy anymore. Maybe it was a bit too much though, not natural looking.

But who cared? This was not costume make-up for a realistic movie but for a college party. Nobody would care if it was a bit too much. It looked good.

You just hoped Gerard would think so too.

Gerard and you had been friends since your first year in college and had somehow ended up sitting next to each other in almost every class you took. You knew he loved dressing up and playing around with make-up, but much to your surprise he had been rather hesitant about answering your questions as what he wanted to dress up this Halloween until he had finally confessed that he just didn’t feel like dressing up at all. You had offered to help him with a bit of spooky face paint if he wanted, but he had turned down your offer.

Honestly, you did not have a lot of experience with make-up at all, but you had worked out some techniques by now, and any excuse to spend more time with Gerard alone was good enough. The way he had rejected your offer had just sounded a bit too annoyed for your taste, and now you were not sure if he even wanted to hang out with you at the party at all.

It was fine, you told yourself, as you applied a bit of blue eyeliner as lipstick, coating it with lip-gloss, and contemplated the result. You had other friends to spend the evening with, other friends who you could laugh and have a good time with.

But the truth was that it was not fine. None of them understood you quite as Gerard did, none of them made you feel as accepted, as noticed as Gerard. Your heart ached at the thought of him maybe not wanting to hang out with you. You had known for a while that you had developed a crush on the cute artist.

The way he was so passionate about his projects, be it for art school, comics, or music was enthralling and contagious. The way he talked about certain topics, you could just relate to him. And maybe that was what had prompted him to be more open with you recently. He had begun talking about more personal stuff recently, stuff you really hadn’t expect him to ever share with you. But maybe he had felt the same, and instead of feeling good about having confided in you, he had pulled away, drawn back.

Or maybe he had noticed you liked him and tried distancing himself in order for you to not get your hopes up.

Either way: his behaviour these past weeks made your stomach churn. With a sigh you grabbed the small tube with fake blood and slipped it into the box with the rest of the make-up which you planned on taking along to the party since you had offered a few girls from your class to do some low effort face paint for them. More white powder, black, green and blue eyeshadow, black lipstick and the fake blood should be enough. But you didn’t dare bringing up your hopes that maybe Gerard would ask you to do his make-up.

~*~

You were one of the first people to arrive at the party. It was held in one of the college buildings, a whole corridor of classrooms unlocked with each room offering different activities. One room had mostly snacks and drinks, one karaoke, and one even beer pong, even though the party was rather small and intimate, since it was only off your department at college. That meant about fifty people max, plus maybe a few friends and acquaintances. It also meant that you knew almost everyone there, and as soon as you had stepped foot into the building you got pulled into conversations.

An older student handed you a red solo cup filled with coke as you were discussing the new professor you both had, and how he seemed rather overwhelmed and unprepared for his classes, when the first of your friends arrived. Like promised, you helped them with a bit of face paint.

It was strange being so close to them as you tried to apply the different products to their face. You could smell their perfumes, and a few of them seemed to have had coffee not too long ago, since you could still smell it on their breath.

The task of getting your friends touched up made you forget about Gerard temporarily, and only after about an hour you noticed that he still had not arrived. You could not help but feel strange about it. You had noticed he had kept his distance recently, obviously you had, but that he would not even turn up the Halloween party because he would meet you here? The thought stung, and you bit your lip hard to hide its quivering, quickly reaching to a bowl with crisps to distract yourself.

That all your friends had left you hanging once you had done their Halloween make-up, and decided to get as drunk as possible in the first hour did not help your mood either. You didn’t feel like drinking. You didn’t even feel like being here at the party anymore, now that everyone had migrated to talk to other people, and not even Gerard was around. It was ridiculous really, how all of a sudden you felt lonely, even though the room was semi-crowded with people looking for snacks that were lined up on the table underneath a window.

You were just about to reach for the bowl a second time, already chewing on the salty crackers, when suddenly you spotted Gerard. His hair was black and dishevelled, just like always, and he wore his normal everyday clothes. One of your classmates walked up to him, doubtlessly commenting on the lack of Gerard’s costume, but Gerard’s eyes flickered through the room, until they landed on you. Quickly you sent him a smile and lifted your hand in greeting, your heart hammering in your chest. Gerard nodded at you, and – without taking his eyes off of you – made his way across the room to where you were standing next to the table on which your friends had sat while you had done their face paint.

“Hey,” Gerard greeted awkwardly, running his hand through his hair. A nervous gesture of his. “You look great.”

You felt your cheeks heat up as Gerard’s eyes skipped over your body, the tightly cut dress, your exposed legs, the white sneakers, and back up to your face. A smile tucked at his lips as he saw the red bow you had tied into your hair, perfectly matching the red of your fake-blood splattered dress.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, fidgeting around with one of the eyeshadow pallets you had used on your friend a few minutes ago.

“Your make-up looks really good too,” Gerard added, as if he wasn’t sure what else to talk about.

“Took me long enough,” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You didn’t dress up?”

Gerard shrugged. “Didn’t really feel like it…”

His eyes wandered from the eyeshadow palette between your fingers to the other make-up products you had still spread out over the desk besides you.

“Is there a chance I could still get a make-up appointment though?”

Your heart missed a beat and almost you would have dropped the palette you had been fiddling around with.

“What?”

“I mean… I know I said I didn’t want to. But seeing everyone else with this cool Halloween make-up on…” Gerard pulled up his shoulders, slipping the sleeves of his hoodie jacket over his hands insecurely.

“Uhm, sure,” you quickly, answered, trying to calm down your racing pulse, and gestured to the desk. “Sit down.”

Before this evening, when you had imagined doing Gerard’s make-up it had all been nice and cosy, but after having done the make-up for about half of your friends, you had realised how close you sometimes had to get if you wanted to get the details and everything else right. You had stood between their legs, sometimes leant in so close that their breath had fanned over your face, or spread some of the make-up with your fingers, since that had worked better than with sponges or brushes. It had not been weird with them, because they were your friends, and you were not interested in any of them romantically. But with Gerard…

Following your invitation, Gerard hopped up on the desk, letting his legs dangle like a little kid.

“What do you want me to do?”

Gerard furrowed his brows for a moment and looked across the room for inspiration.

“Just a skull, or something like that. Or what you did for yourself. I like that a lot. I can just be dead me.”

You laughed quietly at that, before you grabbed the white eyeshadow. You had experimented with theatre make-up, but the eyeshadow had worked best for your limited experience. And it made adding other colours easier.

With shaking hands, you dipped a little sponge into the eyeshadow (the cheapest you had found) and moved close to Gerard. You had wanted to stand beside his legs, positive standing between his legs like you had done earlier with your other friends would give you a heart attack, but he already had spread them for you to stand between them, so you did.

You could tell he was watching you closely as you began dapping the white powder all over his face. He was pale already, but the additional white made him look sickly. He was leaning back on his hands, drumming along to the music that was playing from the other room.

“Okay, close your eyes,” you demanded, and when he did, you gently dabbed more of the white eyeshadow over his lids, so you had an even foundation. It was tempting to use the moments in which he had closed his eyes to study his face more closely. His dark lashes were incredibly long, framing the curve of his eyelids perfectly. Quickly you focused back on the task at hand, and gently dapped more eyeshadow onto his skin.

“Whoa, why is it so bright here,” an older student, who had helped organise the party, suddenly exclaimed. Indeed, all the ceiling lights of the classroom were on, making the room look like a normal evening, instead of a Halloween party. “Let’s make this a bit more spooky, shall we?”

And with that he turned off almost all the ceiling lights, immediately covering the room in mysterious twilight.

Gerard was about to protest, that they should turn the lights back on, so you could see, but you shook your head.

“Let’s look for another spot, and let them have their fun,” you suggested, and he nodded obediently.

Quickly you gathered your make-up products and shoved them into the little bag you had carried them in, before stepping out into the corridor. The party spread along the whole hallway. The room you had just left was illuminated only by a single lamp now, the next room over by the reflections from a silver screen on which a few people were singing karaoke. Further down the corridor were more rooms, all comparatively dark, and probably swarmed by a few couples making out in the dim lights.

The only room that was probably well lit and empty was the bathroom for the disabled. A few doors down were the normal bathrooms, but this one was usually not used by regular students because most of the time it was lacking toilet paper. Which meant nobody would be bothered if Gerard and you occupied it while you finished his face paint.

You pointed to the door, and Gerard followed you into the small room. Inside were no booths, instead a toilet with a handle at the side, a shower, and a low sink. You had never understood why there was a shower in here, and your best guess was that it was due to the fact the building had been a residential building before it had been integrated into the campus of the college.

“Sink or toilet, where do you want me,” Gerard asked after he had turned on the lights and locked the door behind you.

Quickly glancing between the two options, you pointed to the sink, and Gerard hopped to sit on its rim. In the back of your mind, you wondered if the sink would break, since it certainly had not been made to be sat on, but when there were no suspicious noises, you relaxed, and stepped closer to Gerard again.

In the small bathroom the light was better than it had been in the classroom, and you could see just how spooky Gerard already looked with the bit of white make-up.

“I’ll add some green, blue and black around your eyes and to your cheekbones, so your face looks more fallen in,” you let him know while grabbing the first colour, making him nod.

“Sorry for not spending so much time with you lately,” Gerard suddenly blurted out, just as you began adding a thin layer of black to around his eyes.

“Don’t worry,” you shrugged, pretending like this was not exactly the conversation you had feared for weeks. “We’re all pretty busy right now, I guess.”

“No- I mean yes, but… I could’ve made time, and I didn’t.”

“It’s okay. We don’t always have to hang out if you don’t want to. Don’t worry about it.”

You could tell Gerard was shivering slightly, as you kept working.

“Everything okay,” you asked worriedly, dapping more colour onto his skin.

He just hummed in response.

“You’re shaking. Are you cold? Did you have enough to eat? Low blood sugar?”

“I’m fine. Sorry if I’m making this harder for you.”

“That’s not the problem, Gee,” you pulled away from his face, taking a look at your work. “’s just that I’m worried.”

“I’m okay. Really,” Gerard assured you, opening his eyes, when he noticed you had pulled away from him.

He looked sad, you suddenly realised. Sad and a little lost.

“Okay, if you say so…” not really believing him you packed away the brush for the eyeshadow. “We’re almost done, the last thing missing are the lips.” Suddenly self-conscious you pressed yours together, noticing how Gerard mimicked you, his eyes shortly flickering to your colour-coated lips. “Do you want to do them yourself? There’s a mirror behind you…”

Gerard couldn’t possibly feel comfortable with you applying make-up to his lips, with your bare fingers no less.

“Uhm… could you do it? If you don’t mind…”

You shrugged. “I don’t,” you lied, “but I’d have to do it with my fingers…”

“That’s okay.”

You shrugged again, and motioned Gerard to scoot a little, so you could quickly wash your hands. Once you had dried them well enough to be able to handle the colours again, you stepped back between Gerard’s spread legs. So far you had managed to stay a safe distance away from his face, but the lip make-up was a delicate matter. With the lips the whole look could either look great or absolutely terrible.

Taking a shaky breath, you dipped your finger into the colour, and brought it up to Gerard’s lips. They were warm and soft under your touch, almost plush. As you ran your finger along his lower lip, leaving a faint shimmer of blue, you concentrated on keeping the colour on his lips, and not accidently slip. But the intense stare with which Gerard was watching your face contort in concentration made focusing difficult. You pretended not to notice it, the way his eyes skipped over your face as if he tried to memorize every little Halloween make-up covered crease and pore.

It was only when you reached for the last colour, that you couldn’t take it anymore, and for a moment your eyes flickered up to his. That was when you froze. Your face was only inches away from his, and his eyes were taking you in with a sense of wonderment and…

“Your pupils are huge,” you whispered, not sure if you had meant to say that out loud.

Gerard blinked a few times before he answered, speaking just as lowly as you. “They are?”

You nodded with an affirmative hum. Somehow it was impossible to look away. It was as if Gerard was pinning you in place with his stare.

“Did you know our pupils dilate up to 55% when we look at someone we love?”

His words were but a breath in the silence between you. There was the humming of the neon tube of the bathroom lights, and the hammering of your heart in your ears, and Gerard’s stupid little fun fact, that almost made your heart stop as you wondered how wide your pupils were right now. Certainly dilated beyond normal. He could absolutely tell you felt attracted to him just by looking into your eyes alone.

But before you had time to realise that the statement was true for him as well, that his pupils were dilated because he looked at someone he loved, and the person he looked at was you, he had already closed the last inches between you, and pressed his lips to yours.

A quiet sound of surprised escaped you, before you dropped the eyeshadow pallet you had been holding into the sink, and wrapped your hands into his hair, kissing him back.

How often had you dreamt about this moment, of kissing Gerard? Far more often than you wanted to admit even to yourself. And you had certainly not imagined it to happen while you both were wearing layers and layers of carefully applied Halloween make-up.

His lips tasted powdery from the colours you had used, but when he kissed you deeper, a note of coffee and indescribable sweetness overwhelmed your senses, making you dizzy. As if Gerard had felt the reaction his kiss had on you, he brought his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him, and kissing you harder. His body was soft and warm against yours, his clothes smooth under your hands. As you ran your fingers from his hair down his neck, you could feel tiny goosebumps rising underneath your fingertips, and he shivered, before he kissed you even harder.

He knew exactly what he wanted, you realised, as you let him take complete control over the kiss. He moved as if he had planned every single moment of this, as if he had imagined kissing you just as often as you had imagined kissing him. Both of his hands were placed at your waist now, pulling you in as close as possible, until your hip was flush to the cold porcelain of the sink he was seated on. His legs were on either side of you, not quite wrapped around you yet, just pressed to your side, warm, strong, stabilising you on your wobbly knees and keeping you close. You did not stop kissing until both of you were out of breath, but eventually, your lungs aching for oxygen, you pulled away.

Only then it really hit you, what had just happened. Gerard had kissed you, as if his life depended on it. Confused and shocked you stumbled a step back, taking in the man before you. His eyes were wide as he nervously tried interpreting your expression. A soft blush shimmered through the white powder, and the colour you so carefully had applied to his face was smeared around his lips in a mixture of the eyeshadow you had used for him, and your lip-gloss. He really did look like a Zombie who had just made out with someone with blue lipstick. If you could have seen your reflection in the mirror behind Gerard, you would have found you did not look much different.

With his feet dangling in the air, a few inches over the ground, Gerard watched you closely, as you blinked a few times in irritation and surprise before you carefully spoke up.

“What was that for?”

You could still taste him on your lips and tongue, the coffee and the sweetness, something so typically him and at the same time so much different from what you had imagined him to taste like.

Gerard gulped audibly at your question and averted his eyes embarrassedly. Fiddling around with the sleeves of his jacket, he took a deep breath, before looking up at you again.

“I know I hurt you by trying to distance myself from you recently,” Gerard suddenly blurted out. “I tried to convince myself that I wasn’t actually in love with you. But I am. And I’m sick of pretending I’m not.” His voice shook slightly as he talked, his still darkened eyes, pupils blown impossibly wide, staring at you, pleading you to understand. “I’m sorry if it makes things weird between us, but I can’t pretend to be someone I’m not. And I just happen to be someone who’s totally, head over heels, helplessly in love with you.”

His words took a moment to register for you, took a few seconds for you to understand them before you could reply.

“It doesn’t have to be weird,” you told him, stepping back closer.

Slowly you brought a hand up to his face, careful not to destroy the make-up you had made such an effort of applying. Immediately he snuggled into your touch, his eyes not leaving yours, until you moved forward and pressed your lips to his again, shorter, sweeter this time, but with just as fast beating heart.

Gerard’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact, and his lips pulled into a smile. When you leant back again, you took a closer look at his face once more. His cheeks were pink underneath the white make-up, making him look more alive than he was supposed to look.

“I’m in love with you too,” you whispered into the narrow space between you, making him smile. “So, so much.”

You weren’t sure if you had ever seen Gerard smile as brightly as he did in that moment. His face was all crunched up, teeth showing, eyes glimmering happily. With a quiet, almost disbelieving laugh he nudged his nose against yours, before he pulled you into a hug. His arms around you, his chest against yours, his nose buried in your hair were so familiar, so well known, and yet at the same time something entirely new. Before, when he had hugged you, it had been quick, casual good-bye hugs. But now he lingered, deeply inhaled the scent that clung to your hair as you tightened your arms around him.

When you eventually pulled away, you brushed your finger over his lips, spreading the colour which your kiss had left a little more evenly, before you gave him a nod.

“You’re all good to go,” you let him know. “The perfect Halloween look.”

Gerard grinned and shimmied off the sink he had been sitting on, watching you as you put away the products and utensils you had used. From the corner of your eyes you could see Gerard biting his lower lip, and almost you would have scolded him for endangering the face paint you had applied so carefully, but he spoke up quicker.

“Is it too bold to ask you to be mine?”

Surprised you looked up at him, before you smiled again and stepped closer to Gerard. Immediately his hands came up to your waist, and you could not help but feel like it was a motion he had waited for ages to be allowed to do.

“It’s not,” you whispered and softly pecked his lips again, intertwining your fingers with his.

Together you walked over to the door, and as you unlocked it, you couldn’t help but think about how about thirty minutes ago you had stepped in here, thinking Gerard might have enough of you. Turning around to him, it seemed as if he had read your thoughts, because his eyes met yours and he lifted your hand up, pressing his lips to your knuckles, the expression on his face an almost dreamy, happy smile. He didn’t have to put it into words, with the way he was looking at you now, to eradicate all doubt, but you could see it in his eyes: the promise to never pull away from you again.

Taglist:

@alexstyx​​ @jayloverthe3rd​​ @robinruns​​ @lookalivefrosty​​ @butterflycore​​  @omgsuperstarg​​ @fivelegance​​ @deadlovers​​ @casmustdiee​​​ @cmtryghoul​​​  

#gerard way x reader #gerard way x you #gerard way imagines #gerard way imagine #gerard way fanfic #gerard way fanfiction #mcr imagines #mcr imagine #mcr fanfiction #mcr fanfic #my chemical romance imagine #my chemical romance fanfic #my chemical romance fanfiction #my chemical romance imagines #halloween #halloween fic #halloween fanfiction #fluff #hurt/comfort

[pomellon]

Alright! Some thoughts for the mermaid!himbros au since I haven’t touched it in a while. I really want to explore more of the differences between Punz’s breed, the narwhals, and Foolish’s breed, the belugas.

As stated in an earlier post the narwhals are more of a warrior race. They’re very minimalistic due to being nomadic, only carrying things they need in kelp bags and pouches wrapped around their waists and tails. They will carry stuff like weapons, tools, and rations, but don’t bother keeping much that won’t come in handy simply because it will add extra weight and slow them down. 

The belugas on the other hand are the exact opposite. Usually their pods will settle down and stay in one area, meaning they have the space and time to collect useless trinkets. They like to craft pretty things like figurines and jewellery and like to cover themselves in pretty items like shells and rocks.

This means Punz and Foolish tend to act and see things quite differently. Punz wants to constantly move, while Foolish prefers to stay in one place for some time to relax. Punz will only gather and keep what’s necessary, meanwhile Foolish will pick up and save shells or shiny rocks for no other reasons than that he finds them neat or pretty.

This does end up creating some conflicts between the two.

The constant moving easily makes Foolish annoyed and stressed, and at one point the two get into a heated enough argument that Punz simply leaves him behind. Punz was convinced they had been tracked by a larger sea beast during the last couple of days and didn’t want to stop until he was sure it had given up the hunt. Meanwhile Foolish simply wanted some time to settle down to work on some of his craftings to relax a bit. 

This results in a close call, the beast that Punz had been concerned about being a very real threat and one that was determined to make a meal out of Foolish, who only managed to survive thanks to Punz returning at the last moment and helping him escape.

It did lead to some injuries, mostly for Punz who put himself between the creature and Foolish, but the incident made Foolish realise the dangers of staying in one area for too long without the safety and protection of a large pod. It also made him trust Punz a lot more. Up until that point they had just been two merfolk travelling together out of convenience, they enjoyed each other’s company but they weren’t necessarily friends. Punz refuses to tell Foolish why he came back for him, but after that moment their relationship starts to grow closer.

Punz finally accepted the fact that Foolish wasn’t used to the constant moving and grew to understand that the beluga used his time to craft and work with his hands to destress. Keeping that in mind he started to make an effort to find temporary safe spaces to lay low for a few days after long stretches of travel, giving Foolish time to rest and work with his hobbies. 

The whole collecting trinkets thing, on the other hand, is something Punz has a hard time wrapping his head around. It makes him grow increasingly frustrated and anxious about Foolish slowing them down or the beluga potentially putting himself in danger due to the extra weight he’s carrying. 

This does lead to a few more disagreements but Foolish eventually manages to show Punz the usefulness of his crafts. While Punz has amazing instincts and is a great fighter, Foolish has a creative mind and is a great problem solver. He makes little items to help distract or confuse the dangerous beasts that try to hunt them. He carefully watches Punz’s hunting technique and crafts him a net that works perfectly with his movements.

But what really has an impact on Punz is when his lance breaks. The lances are like an extension of the narwhal mers bodies, a weapon that they craft in their late teens as they come of age. It’s their pride and joy and should be able to withstand use and last them throughout their life. Punz is devastated when his breaks, he kind of gives up on everything once he can’t fix it, so Foolish takes the matter into his own hand.

He carefully pieces it together when Punz is asleep, uses his various items to glue and tie it all together, carefully mimics Punz’s own craftsmanship to make the cracks and broken patterns look deliberate rather than patched up.

Punz is completely speechless when Foolish hands him the final result, and when it finally clicks that Foolish did indeed fix his lance, beautifully at that, he’s overjoyed. He tries to act nonchalant about it, but he can’t quite hide his smile and the way his mood brightens immensely over the next few days.

He doesn’t really question it when Foolish picks up and keeps random items after that, if anything he sometimes gives in and adds some of Foolish’s trinkets to his own bags to make it easier for the beluga. Likewise, Foolish stops questioning when Punz keeps them moving, knowing that if the narwhal isn’t stopping there’s probably a good reason for it.

They definitely start out with their ups and downs but the more time they spend together the more they get to know each other, eventually coming to understand and adapt to each other's cultural differences.

#punz #foolish gamers #himbros #funz #mermaid au #apologize for any spelling mistakes or mixed tenses #my brain is mush atm XD; #pom talks

[quikyu]

arbitrary hollow knight doodles that i give no context for

#hollow knight #white lady #hornet #pale king #quirrel #ghost #grimm #radiance #the knight #monomon #grimmchild #hive knight #i didn’t want to be annoying by posting too much low effort stuff #but i realized that i loved it when my fav artists posted stuff #even if it was lazy or whatever #so #*drops this and runs away* #(hehe yes one of de photos has invader zim styled hk characters) #quikyu artiste

[hermannsthumb]

For the Spring Prompts 28. Under the weather (bad spring allergies bc I myself am dying rip)

28. Under the Weather

from spring fic prompts meme here

feeling this one today 😔 spring allergy gang unite. set loosely post-movie, you can decide where/when

—————————

Newt’s efforts to sneak back into the apartment undetected after his run to the grocery store are less out of courtesy to Hermann—poor, sniffly, sleepy Hermann, who has been languishing away dramatically on the couch under a throw blanket watching oldschool Doctor Who since ten that morning—and more out of the desire to not be accosted with complaints about an aching throat or repeated, throbbing headaches before Newt’s even finished unpacking the frozen stuff. Newt can only take so much. Is that mean? It’s maybe a little mean, but to be fair, Newt knows that he’s just as annoying when he’s sick, and Hermann puts up with it a whole lot less than Newt does. Newt’s the goddamn patron saint of patience compared to Hermann. No, that is mean, Newt isn’t being serious. He loves Hermann, and he’s sorry he isn’t feeling well, because he’s a good colleague/roommate/quasi-partner(? Hermann can be very hard to pin down to a label, but they live together and kiss a lot now, even if their arguments have only decreased by a marginal amount), and it’s his job to tend to Hermann’s needs.

Even if it’s just seasonal allergies. And Hermann gets them every year. And Hermann complains about them every year. And if, every year, he becomes convinced he has the flu, or pneumonia, or a terrible, terrible cold, and spends a few days watching Newt wistfully while Newt heats him up chicken noodle soup or tosses his favorite sweater in the dryer for a few minutes for extra coziness, like he's on his deathbed or something and trying to savor the rest of their time together, before finally getting up and announcing that he was overreacting and is really quite fine now and going back to snapping at Newt for forgetting to start the dishwasher or leaving the soy milk out on the counter again. Like clockwork. Newt could mock up his own highly accurate predictive model if he wanted to be annoying. 

He locks the front door behind him with the world’s quietest click. It’s not quiet enough. “Newton?” Hermann calls drowsily from the living room, and, despite all his complaints, Newt can’t help but smile. Drama queen he is, sick Hermann is also kinda cute. It doesn’t hurt that sick Hermann gets ten times more cuddly with Newt.

“Be there in a second, babe,” Newt says.

The low hum of barely-audible TV dialogue suddenly tapers off. Newt hears the springs of the couch squeaking and groaning as Hermann, presumably, sits up. It’s not the exact couch they had in their lab (Hermann had that hauled off as garbage while Newt was still recovering from his double-drifts in medical, the bastard), but it’s pretty identical to it—they were maybe feeling a little nostalgic while they were thrift shopping for furniture. Just as noisy, just as comfortable.  “Have you got the lozenges?” Hermann’s voice is scratchy.

Newt got the lozenges. Newt got oodles and oodles of lozenges. Newt has so many lozenges in his tote bag that it’s actually almost too heavy to carry. Newt bought every single lozenges in the entire store, every brand, every flavor, even the flavors he knows Hermann hates, God forbid anyone else get a tickle in their throat, because they’re fresh out of luck. Newt fought for those lozenges out of sheer love for his colleague-roommate-partner, and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant Hermann’s throat felt even a tiny bit better. (He also just got kinda tired of hearing Hermann clear his throat and pointedly remark that he would be endlessly grateful if someone cared about him enough to, say, run out to the store in the rain, and...) “Dude,” Newt says, “I have so many lozenges. Also, can you just call them cough drops like a normal human being?”

Hermann mutters something grumpily. “And the tea?” he says.

“And the tea,” Newt says. Newt didn’t get as much tea as he got cough drops, but he still got a stupid amount. “And the soup, and the tissues, and the Advil, and the cookies, and—”

Hermann shuffle-clacks into the hallway, throw blanket wrapped tightly around his shoulders like a shawl, mis-matched socks peeking out at Newt from under the cuffs of his pajama pants. His nose is rubbed red. Newt smiles again. “Aw, Hermann,” he says. “You look so miserable, it’s kinda adorable.” He wants to wrap Hermann up in his arms and big-spoon him until the end of days. Or, at the very least, bundle him up in another sweater and a million more blankets so he’s never cold ever again. He couldn’t help himself from turning the heat on before he ran out to maximize Hermann’s comfort, even though he knows Hermann will complain about it later when he finds out. (It’s April, after all, it’s not like they really need it, and they’re just running up their oil bill for no reason. But Hermann is toasty, so Newt is happy.)

Hermann whaps a grocery bag with the end of his cane. "Where are my biscuits, you wretched little man?”

He sneezes. Newt tosses him one of the little foil packages of weird British cookies he had to get from the international aisle, and Hermann catches it in the crook of his arm. “Thank you,” he says primly, barely concealing his delight.

“I’ll make you tea,” Newt says, and waves Hermann off when Hermann makes to grab the tote bag of lozenges. “Get back on the couch, come on, you shouldn’t be getting up. Lemme unpack the bags and I’ll get in there too. It’s soooo gross out, you have no idea.” Hermann sniffles, blinking at Newt with pitiful, watery eyes, and Newt feels his heart wobble a little. “Dude, seriously, get back in there before I kiss you and get all your germs and get all gross and sick like you, and then we’ll both be sick, which will totally suck.” Which won’t happen, because these are just Hermann’s usual allergies, but Newt’s practiced enough by now to know that humoring Hermann is the best course of action. It leads to the least amount of arguments, anyway. “Tea, and soup, okay? And cough drops.”

“Hang your raincoat up,” Hermann says, and, just as primly as before, attempts to tear open the cookie package with his teeth as he shuffle-clacks back to the living room. 

Hermann’s moved his blanket nest around a little to make space for Newt on the couch, and, when Newt finally finishes unpacking the groceries and drops down next to him with a yawn, he immediately settles his head down into Newt’s lap the way they’ve done a million times before. He groans quietly when Newt pushes his fingers through his short, badly-trimmed hair. (Newt always thought Hermann’s DIY haircuts were a result of wartime stress, but then the war stopped and the haircuts didn’t, which means they’re apparently deliberate, which raises about a hundred other questions.) He’d like to do this kind of stuff with Hermann outside of sick days, but he’s not totally sure how to breach the subject without bearing his soul a little more than he’d like. Like, hey, Hermann, I know we share a bed and file joint taxes and stuff, but would you be weirded out if I held your hand every now and then? You would? Okay, cool, nevermind. “I feel dreadful,” Hermann moans. “I’m quite certain I’m dying. I won’t say it’s been a pleasure knowing you, Newton, but it’s certainly been interesting. Oh. Could you use your fingernails again, please?” Newt obliges, and Hermann makes a weird, contented, almost catlike purring noise, leaning into Newt’s touch, his eyes fluttering shut. “Newton, darling,” he says. He has cookie crumbs at the corner of his mouth.

Newt bends down and kisses his forehead. Hermann’s skin is cool but sweaty, probably from his fifty layers. Not at all feverish. Good. Newt wasn’t kidding about the predictive model thing, but he still can’t help but worry for Hermann, just a little bit. “I put honey in your tea,” he says. “It’s on the table whenever you want it. So is the soup.” Newt likes soup that has noodles shaped like rocketships and stars and other dumb things like that, so he’s always secretly a little glad when Hermann lets him do grocery shopping and he can get that instead of the boring low-sodium healthy stuff Hermann always gets. He also knows that Hermann likes the soup with fun shapes, too, so it’s a win-win for both of them. 

“Dear, wonderful Newton,” Hermann mumbles. Newt brushes cookie crumbs off his sweater. “I haven’t the faintest idea what I’d do without you. You’re the most—”

“I know,” Newt says. 

“And—”

“I know,” Newt repeats, tugging on a strand of Hermann’s hair.

Hermann bats him away, wrinkling his nose, but then catches Newt’s hand to press a clumsy kiss to his knuckles. Newt’s heart feels kinda funny again. “Um,” he says. Hermann’s thumb rubs in a circle against his palm. He blinks up at Newt, and there’s something tender and warm in his eyes that makes Newt’s mouth go dry. “Um. W-want me to unpause the show?”

“Mm,” Hermann says.

“Cool,” Newt says. “Um. Let me know if you need another blanket or something.”

“Mm,” Hermann says again.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

[iwantutobehapppier]

Uninvited

Pairing: Alpha!Bucky x Omega!Reader, Bucky x Reader

Summary: You and Bucky end up stranded in a safe house after a mission. Should be fine, except your early heat and Bucky’s secrets.

Warnings: +18 only. Smut, knotting, A/B/O stuff, dubcon

Word Count: 3,401

A/N: Okay this is for the 6th Night of Chanukah. So sorry for the delay. I really hope you guys enjoy and I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors. I’ll read it back over later.

Bucky observed your mannerisms from the pilot seat of the Quinjet. Your scent was becoming musty and he knew exactly what that meant. In fact, his whole body knew, the way he would naturally gravitate to you when your scent took on this unique change. The raging hard-ons and the… nocturnal emissions. He felt like a teenage boy when your heat came closer.

He wasn’t sure this mission was a good idea for the two of you. It was an expected smash and grab then lay low but with your oncoming heat, faster than he recalled last time, Bucky wasn’t sure about your safety.

Not from the targets. No, you could hold your own.

Your safety from him.

Bucky wouldn’t call himself feral by any means as an Alpha but to say he was untethered around an omega was putting it lightly. Specifically you. Your smell even without the musky allure of on-coming heat is entrancing to him. He was never sure how to broach the topic of the two of you, after all, he’d have to confess to something Sam playfully jab at him about. 

But Steve knew better. Bucky was a one Omega kind of Alpha, as was Steve. That’s how it was ingrained in them and no amount of brainwashing could undo instincts. 

Landing the jet you jump out of your seat to get your gear on for the mission.

However, Bucky did have one other issue when it came to talking about any of this with you, your avoidance of him if at all possible one on one. 

He assumes it’s his overbearing Alpha presence, in the past Omega’s had commented on his scent which made him stay clear of them. What was worse and unthinkable was your avoidance due to his past with Hydra. 

You’d lost everything to them at a young age when your powers came out in their warpath to obtain you.

Shaking the thoughts from his head he clears his head to focus on the task at hand. He knew focusing would be instrumental in the success of this mission, given the thickening of your scent. Setting the autopilot to return the Quinjet he confirms the location of the safe house before exiting the Jet so it can return.

The mission was barely a success, while you and Bucky had been able to take out guards from afar your scent was spreading and alerting the enemy of your arrival. Bucky had taken lead, making you stay farther back. And finally told to go get a car for travel to the safe house

Huffing out in frustration you kicked dirt up making your way towards the already cleared front entrance. The last thing you wanted to show in front of Bucky was weakness, he was a man of duty and efficacy. He was an Alpha you admired and fantasizes about. The last thing you needed to be was a thorn in his side.

After all, you put so much effort into being an exemplary team member, not being in the way, only noticed when doing what needs to be done. Effective and unnoticeable. It was how you lived your life. 

Your oncoming heat due to your designation was ruining your first duo mission with Bucky, and honestly, you would rather be shot in the head. To be an inconvenience and deterrent on a mission, to be one to Bucky no less. It made your chest squeeze, your growing heat scent sour. 

Locating a quick get-away car you pull out your kit to unlock the door, your mind wandering as you began the task of hotwiring, something you could do in your sleep after years of “borrowing” cars.

What if he was hurt because you didn’t have his back?

Worse, your mind supplied, what if he’s disgusted by your heat? 

Oh, that hurt.

Your stupid heat wasn’t supposed to be starting for another two days, let alone pre-heat scent spikes. Though, if you were honest the last couple of heats had been irregular in starting. One even started without any lead-up, just bam you were ruining your clothes and craving a knot like an Omega on her first heat. 

It was embarrassing, and thank god Bucky had left the common room well before it started. When Nat found you, you let a comment slip that Bucky was nearby but wasn’t affected by your smell. She simply scoffed mentioning something cryptic about only one Omega for Bucky.

At that moment you thought nothing was as embarrassing as that, well tonight you proved yourself wrong. This was the most embarrassing thing ever. Certainly, after this, you’d be on desk duty for a while until your heats got under control.

The loud explosion signals Bucky’s success in taking down the hideout you wait for him to appear and he does making a brisk jog for you. Once in the car, you take off. The only conversation between the two of you his instructions to the safe house. His hand over his nose was enough to keep you silent and compliant. Clearly, your scent had gotten worse. 

You two make it to the small cabin 2 hours later, and you’re sweating even in the cool temp. You tired to air the car out but the open windows only proved to push Bucky’s smell directly in your path and that only made your thighs clench, slipper with your slick. You watching Bucky shift in the seat in what you assumed was uncomfortable at your growing arousal. Missing when his metal hand rubbed on the growing erection trying to soothe his own ache.

You both jump out of the car once parked needing out of the confined space of smells, desperate to put some walls between each other. Yours out of shame, Bucky’s out of necessity. 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could handle this. He’d never been around an Omega in their heat, sure pre and post but never right in the thick of it. He was a faithful man about Omega’s, if he’s with one that’s the one. Wringing his hand he heard you cry out in pain. He may not have experienced an Omega in their heat but he knew you didn’t have anything here to help you go through this. But he did. 

He had the thing you needed, and god did he want to give it to you. You whimper out, even with a wall between you two the sound carried as if he was beside you. He was getting restless, the longer your scent permeated the air, the harder it would be for him to keep his distance. Bucky would rather have this conversation now while you were both somewhat coherent before he did something he’d regret later without permission.

With wide steps, he finds himself in front of the door where you laid. Bucky inhales deep and it was a mistake, the voracious growl he can’t stop from smelling you scares him, and the hint of sour in your smell scared you too.

Knocking is the only thing he can manage to do, the doorknob in his metal hand crunching under pressure. When you call for him to enter the knob falls and he pushes the door open. Taking a tentative step in he sees you on the bed.

Curled up, simply in your bra and underwear, skin shining with sweat or slick depending upon where he looked. The smell was better than anything he’d ever smelt. 

Smelling Bucky closer, you felt your abdomen spasm and more slick produce from you. Your body readying you for the Alpha who smelled so tantalizing and forbidden. Not bothering lifting your head to see the sexual temptation of this Alpha your voice muffled. “Unless you’re here to help you need to leave now.”

“I,” Bucky pauses, “I want to help but I gotta tell you something first.” Closing your eyes tightly you were dreading his next words. Obviously, it would be just sex for him, what good are you to an Alpha such as Bucky Barnes?

“Go on,” you nod your head trying to hide your rejection before he can speak by keeping your head down in the bed, but he catches the faint sourness in your sent. He won’t let it deter him though.

“You know I’ve never been with an omega,” Bucky shifted awkwardly at his confession. Your head lifted looking at him in barely disguised shock. Never been with an Omega? It seemed unlikely, perhaps he meant since Hydra.

“Even before?” You paused not wanting to elaborate on what before was, doing your best to ignore the growing slick and cramping frequency.

“Yeah, even before. Just beta’s.” His head bobbing up and down, the metal hand running through his short locks a nervous tick you found endearing. But now, with this new knowledge, you were trepidacious. 

“So what, am I some kind of uncharted territory for you to conquer?” Bucky’s eyes widen at your words, baffled you would think so little of him but then again what actions has he taken to show otherwise he thought to himself.

“What?! No! I just-” His backpedaling was annoying, you could be just sex, it would be hard to work together afterward but to be a conquest, an experiment that’s just too far. 

“The connection between an Alpha and Omega is tantric and pure during a heat, you can’t do this because you just want to see what it’s like,” your ire making the room smell of burnt hair.

“I would never-” He tries once more to take control of the conversation but god you were stubborn.

“Cause Bucky if you just think I’m an object that you carve one minute and-” He cuts you off, voice raised.

“Will you let me talk!?” The boom in his voice making you cower at reflex from a loud Alpha. Your pheromones pushing out a pleasant scent to calm him. 

“I’m doin’ this because I care about you,” Bucky looks down while your eyes round at his confession, you sit up on your knees edging towards the end of the bead. “I think about you a lot, and not just cause your smell is everywhere Omega.” 

Looking up you’re in front of him, his eyes widen to match yours. He’s never called you by your designation before, your name, and maybe on the rare chance doll but never this. Your scent permeates the air around him.

“If we do this-”

“Okay Alpha,” your voice more confident than it had been since Bucky broached this subject. 

He knew he should tell you he’d mate you, that nothing would stop him but he couldn’t find it in him with your consent, and the way you smell he fell. In an instant Bucky is on you, lips colliding, fingers digging into your flesh. You mutter against his lips. He pulls away only a fraction.

“Nest,” you whimper, slick pooling down your legs. “I need a nest.” Nodding his head as Bucky doesn’t trust his voice he kisses you once more only to disappear out the door.

When he returns he has the pillows from the couch, a throw blanket, and even some couch back cushions. Leaving once more he finds the laundry room and grabs all the blankets and sheets he can before dumping them on the bed. You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up when he returns.

He leaves to get more but you call out his name. He turns back to you with a brow raised. “This is enough but clothes, I need clothes. I need your clothes.” You inform pulling your shirt from the ground where you had ripped your clothes of for reprieve from your heat. 

“Right,” He rips his jacket, sweater, and undershirt off throwing them in front of you before taking his pants off to do the same. 

You’re body humming with giddiness as you build the nest with his scent and yours slowly molding together to give a safe space. Too consumed in your task you miss the shift on the bed, Bucky coming behind your bent form tucking his pants into the intricate weaving you had done with the clothes and sheets.

Rough warm hand and cool sleek metal land only your hips. You whimper at the feeling, falling into the just set nest.

“Oh sweet Omega,” voice enticing against your ear while he leans over you. His chest barely touching your back but you can feel the heat radiating off of him. His arms slip down yours, intertwining your fingers. Suddenly he falls back pulling you with him to hand in his lap.

He’s hot, so hot, or maybe it’s you? You wiggle on his lap, feeling his erection bare against your covered back end. He shimmies you on his lap, the space allowing for his engorged cock to jut out between your legs.

You salivate at the sight of his large cock twitch. “You see that Omega?” a tingle slips down your spine at his rough voice in your ear. 

He reaches down with his flesh hand holding your hand he wraps your fingers around the base, feeling the beginning of his knot swelling. It’s just the faintest bulge to the eyes but in your hands, it feels fully formed. You know it’s not, your omega instincts tell you it’s not but you shake your head anyway.

“Too big,” is all you can get out, heat consuming any syntax. 

“Oh my sweet omega,” mewling at his endearing words he chuckles. “It’s not even near popped, but it will be.” his hand leaves yours holding him. “Once I’m rooted deep here.” His hand covers your mound, pushing the soaked fabric to the side he slips his fingers between our swollen folds. Twirling fingers along your clit you buck on top of him, crying out.

“I think my Omega is ready,” you writhe against him, moaning in agreement at his words. You were beyond ready, you had been ready the moment you stepped into this cabin but you had to wait. Had to wait for your alpha “Present.”

Your omega instincts move you immediately to your hands and knees. Bucky’s metal hand slides up your spine to between your shoulder blades pushing you down to your elbows and your ass up higher. Satisfied with your position he raises to his knees.

Pulling your underwear down to your bent knees at the same time he takes his red cock weeping cum from the tip. He feels something crawling just below the surface, a sensation he’s never had when fucking a beta. 

It had been bubbling at the surface when he began to smell you but now, with you presenting, his cock head slotted at your entrance you rock back pushing his cock head but not entering just yet, needing more force to take such a bulbous tip, something is slipping away. 

No, you shouldn’t be trying to take it. He snarls at your movements and you freeze. Satisfied at your response he pushes in, it’s almost impossible, but when he swivels his hips and growls your name he’s in. Then he’s pushing all the way in, your walls suffocating him, struggling to take him. But you will take him. Slick is pouring around him and out of you, your body desperate to take everything he gives.

Blood is rushing in his ears, he can barely make out the sounds you are making. All he can feel is your body beneath his, the way he’s dominating you, how your pheromones release the most exquisite sweet smell when he enters you. Had he known, if he had only known…

“Bucky,” you sigh in relief when he bottoms out, your full, more full than any time you could recall. It was like he was made to reach every part of you. He growls out and you’re quick to correct yourself. “Alpha.”

“Fu-uck,” he gets out, eyes squeezed tight. “I never knew-” he can’t finish his words. 

“I know,” you concur, “I know.” 

He pulls back and slams into you faster than you’re prepared for. You wail and your arms collapse under you but you turn your head, pushing one side of your face into the mattress that smells like you, like Bucky. Together.

Fingers dig into the sheets, drool pouring out your mouth and your eyes roll back when he pulls back to shove himself back in you, your body jerking forward at the force. 

Something wicked is climbing up Bucky’s back with each thrust, the sensation mudding his brain but it’s different from the brainwashing. It’s different from anything else he’s ever felt. It’s part of him but something he’s not familiar with. As he continues to thrust back and forth you move with him.

He holds your hips still, hissing as he slowly pulls back. Punishing you for trying to take control. A pitiful wail falls from your mouth when he eases his hips forward into you. “You are mine Omega,”

You nod your head against the bed, anything to stop this slow pace. “You will submit to your alpha.” You whimper out a scratchy “Yes Alpha.” It’s enough.

He pounds into you, no not pound, pummels. His pace is fast, unforgiving, and more pleasurable than anything you’ve felt before. 

Your hair falls in front of you, displaying your mating gland to him. It calls to him, the rush of blood making it swell, preparing for him, for his mark. He just knew it. Never mind it was always inflamed during an omega’s heat.

The wet slap of flesh meeting, his staggered breaths, your moans growing in volume, the taste of your sweat when he licks a trail up your back, the smell of your fluids combined that’s squelching out with each thrust, it’s all a new symphony to his senses. 

One that sends him further to the place he’s wanted to be for decades. When he swivels his hips moving in and then out of you you’re crying, gushing out around him, cumming so suddenly you’re gasping for breath.

Your limp but Bucky holds you up by your waist, Your plaint body swaying with his thrusts, never once losing his tempo. He’s chasing something, something a fleeting thought that he may not want to do so but it was too late. Too late and too good.

When you finally regain the sensation of your body he’s never stopped once. For a moment you’re worried but remember Bucky is more than a simple Alpha. He knows you’ve returned to your sense before you can say anything.

He hooks his arms in yours, pulling them back behind you at your elbow joint. Thrusting wildly your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“Are you ready to take my knot?” He growls, his voice is deeper than anytime you’ve heard before. If it wasn’t for the heat fuzziness overtaking you maybe you’d register the warning sign.

“Yes Alpha, please.” You whine instead, begging for what your body craves, the very reason you’re in this position. 

“Are you ready to be marked?” He nuzzles into your neck, licking your mating gland. Something doesn’t feel right about that. 

“Alpha?” Your head moves to the side to move him away but Bucky remains steadfast in his attention on your gland.

“Mine forever,” his voice is garbled, you’re fairly certain his smell has taken on a spicier sent. He’s in a rut. The base of his cock is swelling, catching almost in the last thrust. He pushes in all the way and it pops.

“No!” you try to struggle but he has you prone to his desires. “What are you-” 

It’s so much at once, his knot is caught and you feel his cum flooding your insides. Nothing slipping out at the pulsing knot keeping you sealed

You cry out when his teeth land on your matting gland piercing with ease. The groan that vibrates from his chest shakes you. There’s a pop and then snap sensation that reverberates through your whole body as the mark takes.

He pulls his teeth back, licking and humping against you, pushing himself further into you though it’s impossible to give you more his instincts demand he is rooted to you. After a few more seconds he is rolling you both to your side, releasing your arms and warping his around you to cocoon you in his sent.

“You’re it for me,” his voice is rough but he sounds like your Bucky. “There’s no choice.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #alpha bucky #omega reader #alpha bucky x omega reader #James bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #smut #18+ only

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Never Too Late 4

Warnings: noncon sexual acts (later in series)

This is dark!Steve Rogers and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’re turning forty and life seems to be forging ahead on its one way track, that is until you meet Steve Rogers.

Note: So I wouldn’t say I’m back just yet. I was just getting ready to answer more of your amazing asks and I’ve been sitting on this chapter forever so I decided to edit and get it out between my original stuff. I won’t be posting regularly just yet but I just wanted you guys to know I appreciate you!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Series Masterlist

It was a bad day. Well, only morning so far. You woke up stiff. Work, your mother, life. It all piled up and wound a knot just beneath your shoulder blade. As you sat up, you realised it was more. Not just your shoulder but your neck and all down your sides; the muscles stiff and unyielding.

You barely managed to grab your phone from the bedside table. You whined as you fell back onto the pillows and dialed your manager’s number. It was early enough that all you got was her voicemail. You sucked in all your breath and quickly left your message. A sick day ticked off your yearly tally. You hung up and stared at the ceiling. Ow.

You turned your head and that hurt too. Just inside your dresser were your freshly washed capris and the dark blue tank just waiting for you. Well, you didn’t imagine a run would do you much good. Or be possible. You sobbed in frustration.

It was an hour of agony. You tried to fall asleep but the pain was too much. You groaned as you pushed yourself up. A yelp escaped you as you hung your legs over the edge of the bed and stood. You hobbled to the bathroom and caught yourself on the sink. You opened the cabinet and used one hand to break two capsules free of the packet. For emergencies only.

You tossed back the muscles relaxers with a handful of water from the faucet and grumbled as you made your way back to bed. You could have fallen onto the mattress but even the thought made you hurt. You lowered yourself carefully and laid face down. You stayed like that until your phone vibrated against you.

You felt around beneath your side and answered without looking. 

“Hello?” You croaked as your eyelids began to droop with the weight of the medicine.

“Hey, you okay?” Steve’s voice rose from the speaker.

“What? Steve?” You rolled onto your side and wheezed in pain. “Yeah, I’m… fine.”

“I’m at the park.” He said evenly.

“Oh, I--” You tried to relax and urge the tension from your back. “Sorry, I hurt my--ugh, back.” 

You couldn’t get comfortable. Every which way only made it worse.

“Your back?” He asked.

“I’ll be fine. I took some relaxers. I just need to sleep it off and-- urg, call my chiropractor.” You balled your other hand around the corner of your pillow. “Ow, ow, ow.”

“What did you do?” He asked. “Did you lift something or--”

“You really don’t need to worry,” you gritted through your teeth. “It happens. It could be from just sitting in the same chair for eight hours or you know, just father time. Ahhhh.”

“I’ll come check on you,” You heard him walking and then a car horn. “Um, I just realised I have no idea where I’m going.”

“Steve, really, I can take care of myself.” You insisted. “The pills are already kicking in.”

“I can help. I have some experience with physical therapy.” He replied. 

“No, no, it’s--” You tried to sit up and almost screamed, instead muffling it in your throat. 

“You can text me the address. You don’t sound fine.” He urged. “Please.”

You sighed. Then gasped as it sent a pang through you.

“I can’t--” You were tired and your head was fuzzy from the meds. “Alright.”

You hung up without awaiting his response and keyed in your address before you dropped the phone. You closed your eyes and let yourself float away in the static, the knot in your back still thrumming in your subconscious.

Your phone kept you from sinking entirely. It shook again, this time without pause. You answered and Steve’s voice came over the garbled buzzer.

“Hey, I’m here.” He said.

“Here?” You blinked at the phone.

“It’s Steve. I’m downstairs.” He said.

“Why?” You asked.

“Oh, never mind,” He replied. “Thanks.” You heard before it cut off entirely. The line went dead and you slung your phone down beside you.

Then the knocking came. You were annoyed. You got up, with an effort that made your entire body throb. You ambled into the living room and neared the door. You peeked through the little hole and slid the chain free. You leaned heavily on the door as you opened it.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked and you just bared your teeth at him. “Wow.” You stumbled back and hit the closet behind you. You winced and your legs threatened to crumple. “Here.”

He closed the door and wrapped his arm around you as he pulled you away from the closet. You whimpered as he led you back into the living room. He hesitated as he looked around then continued to the bedroom door. He peered inside before he angled you within and towards the bed. He was warm. Hot against you.

“Oh, I can feel it.” You mumbled as he lowered you down to the mattress. “The relaxers are hitting.”

“Good,” He carefully laid you down and turned you onto your side, your back to him. “Where does it hurt?”

His hand started at your neck and you groaned. He brushed down and you got louder as he touched your shoulder then your lower back. His fingers tickled your hips and he lingered along your pajama bottoms before he retreated. He pressed his palm more firmly to your back.

“Definitely tension,” He said.

You hummed and bent your arms in front of you. He let you fall back and your eyes slowly closed. 

“What did you take?” He asked.

You pointed to the bathroom and your arm quickly dropped beside you. You opened your eyes as you heard him. He frowned and left you. He re-entered with the package of capsules and read it.

“How many?”

You held up two fingers and he shook his head.

“It says you should only take one every six hours.” He turned the box in his hands. “These are extra strength.”

“No, regular,” Your lashes fluttered and you let your eyes close again. “I only get regular.”

“No, these are extra strength,” His weight settled on the mattress. “You should be fine but no more for today.”

“You go,” You grumbled as the drowsiness rested over you like a shroud. “I told you… I’m okay.”

“You need someone to keep an eye on you.” He said. “You took a double dose.”

“Tired,” You yawned. “Go.”

You didn’t register his response, only his tone. Stern. You were dragged deeper into the dissonance until all was black. Until all that remained was the distant pain along your spine. The whisper of the worries which had turned your muscle to stone.

💊

You woke as the pain needled into your neck deeper than before. Your head was cradled between your pillows and your arm bent beneath you painfully in your drugged sleep. You groaned and pushed yourself up, vaguely aware of someone else moving around in your apartment.

You touched your forehead and tried to clear your head. You remembered calling in and taking the relaxers but after that, it was all fuzzy. You rolled over with a squeak and carefully sat up. Your eyes welled and threatened to overflow from the sheer agony down your spine.

A count of ten readied you for the torturous effort of standing up. You staggered and caught yourself on the nightstand. Your shirt was twisted around your torso and your pajama pants were rumpled from your heavy sleep. You moved slowly and stiffly to the door and eased it open as you listened to the activity on the other side.

You followed the steady chop of a knife against the cutting board and leaned inside the kitchen doorway as your shoulder twinged sharply. Steve was focused on chopping a cucumber as low jazz floated up from his phone. You gripped the wooden frame beside you and rubbed your eyes.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice scratched in your throat.

He looked over at you and placed the knife down. He wiped his hands on the dishcloth and neared you. “You shouldn’t be up. You’ll only make it worse.”

“What-- I don’t--”

“You took too many relaxers.” He said flatly. “You’ve been sleeping it off for the last… six hours.”

“Six hours?” You muttered as he guided you around and into the living room. You hissed as another jolt rattled your bones. “Ahhh.”

Steve caught you before you could collapse and scooped you up in his thick arms. He sighed and sat you down on the couch softly.

“What were you doing?”

“Making a salad.” He answered. “I didn’t want to just leave you here alone.”

“You didn’t have to come in the first place.”

“I think I did.” He brought his hands to either side of your neck and you winced. A blinding pain ran from the back of your skull, down your neck, along your shoulder blade, and all the way to your ankle. “Do me a favour.” He dropped his hands. “Turn your head to the right.”

You squinted at him and reluctantly did as he said.

“Left.” He demanded and when you tried the other side, you cried out and reached up to grip your neck. “Hmm, raise your arms.” You did that but your left didn’t get as high up as your right. You gasped in pain again and he sat beside you. “Turn your back to me.”

“I should call my chiro.” You said. “You shouldn’t--”

“I know what I’m doing.” He insisted and squeezed your hip. “Turn.”

“Steve.”

“I’m trying to help you.” He poked your arm and you relented and shifted until you were sideways on the cushion. He bent his leg up and faced you.

His large hands settled on your shoulders and he ran his thumb up your neck. You whimpered and he slid his hands lower, feeling your muscles.

“Tell me what hurts most.” 

He touched your left shoulder blade and paused as you cried out. He poked along it and your voice rasped even louder. He continued down your back and sides and the weight between your hips made you shake as it felt as if your entire body would dissolve from the pain.

“I don’t know what I did,” you whined. “I just woke up like this.”

“Anything happen yesterday? Something stressful?” His hands crawled up your back and he grasped your shoulders again. He began to stroke the back of your neck lightly with his thumbs. You went rigid as he coaxed the muscles. “Just relax, you’ll only make it worse.”

“Ah,” you did your best to let go of the tension but you weren’t comfortable with him touching you. In fact, you weren’t entirely fine with him being in your apartment.

“So, what’s going on?” He asked.

You exhaled deeply and he moved to your shoulders, a surprised groan escaped you as he hit a particularly tender spot.

“Definitely a pinched nerve.” He said. “So tell me, what’s go you all knotted up?”

You shook your head and that only jarred you again. You couldn’t help but lean back as he kneaded your flesh. The pain was unbearable and overwhelmed your caution.

“My brother’s birthday is coming up. I’m supposed to go to my mom’s--” you sucked in air as you resisted a moan. He definitely knew what he was doing. “She called me last night and--” You couldn’t hold back the next and the long whine escaped you. You closed your eyes in embarrassment and searched for your voice. “You know, she didn’t do anything for my birthday but she wants me there and I love my brother but-- ughhh, oh my god, Steve.”

You covered your mouth as your wispy tone sent heat through your body.

“I told you, relax. Keep talking.”

You tore your hand from your mouth. “You don’t have too--”

“I want to, now what’s going on with your mother?”

“The usual. She’s disappointed in me. She… wants me to bring a date but even if I had one, I wouldn’t want to bring them around. I wish she’d just accept me for just me but--” You pressed your lips together and dug your nails into the couch as his hand got lower. “I don’t know. It’s stupid.”

“I don’t think so.” He continued to work your muscles and you leaned back against him without thinking. “Your mom shouldn’t be pressuring you like that. You’re doing so well. You’ve been running, you work hard, and I think she should be proud.”

You dropped your head back against his shoulder as your eyes rolled back. His hands were on your hips, kneading and gripping in turn so that your right leg slung down limply over the side of the couch. He didn’t seem to mind as you pressed against him and your voice swirled up into the air in relief.

He was quiet as he continued to massage your lower back and along your sides. He repeated his course up and down until he was focused on your hips again. The remnants of the relaxers rested on your eyelids and your breath slowed as you were tempted to fall back asleep.

He rubbed your hip bones lightly as you floated in a haze and all was quiet but for the beating of his heart against your back. His hands moved around your front and his fingers crawled over your pelvis. You were startled by how intimate his touch was but could do nothing but remain as you were.

He retracted his hand as if surprised himself. He cleared his throat and eased out from behind you, lowering you onto your back as he stood. He sniffed and his jaw tensed as he forced a smile.

“You stay here. Don’t move, I mean it, you’ll hurt yourself worse than you already are.” He took a pillow from the other side of the couch and slipped it under your head. “I’ll go finish lunch. You need something in your stomach.”

He turned and took the slender black remote from your low coffee table. He placed it beside your hand. His blue eyes flicked across your middle and you pulled down the hem of your shirt as you realised it had ridden up. He shook his head and backed away.

“After you eat, you should take a hot bath. Liquid heat is good for tension.” His voice faded as he strode back to the kitchen. “And I think you should take tomorrow off too. That’s not going away overnight.”

#steve rogers #dark steve rogers #dark!steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #never too late #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #mcu #marvel #captain america #au

[padfootagain]

Grumpy

Hi everyone! I'm back with a very cute little drabble for Christmas! We're one week away from Christmas, and I'll try to post a few of those little drabbles before the 25th!

This is a very cute, grumpy Ben with a cold! I hope you like this!

A little comment is greatly appreciated, if you have a second to spare!

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Word Count : 1672

Ben was grumpy.

It wasn't in his nature, and it wasn't in his character at all. He was a rather shy, goofy and quite adorable man with a mischievous sense of humour most of the time. There were only a few instances that brought him to a more bitter state of mind: the remnants of a hangover in the early morning, being stuck in traffic for a long time, and being sick.

And now, Ben was sick.

Nothing dramatic, but a seasonal cold that would have disappeared in a few days. But for the moment, Ben was in the dark phase of the disease.

A runny nose, a sore throat that was sometimes scratched with a rough cough, fever and a migraine that made him feel like someone was piercing his skull with needles. He had no energy for anything and was stuck in his bed, under a pile of blankets and pillows you had brought for him.

And it would have been bearable, had you been there with him to distract him from his miserable state, give him cuddles and bring him regular doses of his favourite tea. But you were at work, and he had to survive four more hours without you. And the more time he spent on his own, the grumpier he became.

It was snowing outside upon London, large snowflakes brightening the days of children and turning the old city into something a little enchanted, a little magical. Low clouds almost as white as the snowflakes they released hovered lazily above the tall buildings and worn-out stones, businessmen hurrying under the cold weather while the more innocent kinds carved faces for snowmen and threw snowballs at their friends. Cars of those reckless enough to try to drive through the city under this weather honked loudly, punctuating the rhythm of the city that never slowed down, especially at the approach of the holidays. And Ben would have loved the spectacle it offered, had he moved to his window to glimpse at the outside world. He would have dragged a chair by the window, and enjoyed a warm cup of coffee while watching peacefully as the snowflakes fell in his garden. Or perhaps, had you been there, he would have enjoyed looking at strangers running down the slippery street, imagining with you crazy lives for these people he didn't know. You would have found an astronaut in their midst for sure, you always did, for some reason. Ben's theory was that it was because of how much you loved the stars.

But again, you were not there, he was alone in your shared home with a buzzing brain that was slowly turning into jelly, and sore limbs, and a nose that wouldn't allow him to breathe. And now, the snow annoyed him, the cold weather the cause of his pain, after all.

He checked the time again, and heaved a desperate sigh as he counted – with much difficulty – how many more hours he had to survive through without you. He had never cursed your job more than now, as he grumpily mumbled a string of curses under his breath, wrapping himself even more in his blankets until the only part of him still visible was his forehead and messy dark hair.

He counted the minutes till you'd be back to fall back to sleep, and he spent most of his afternoon tossing around, somewhere between sleep and reality, in a daze that wasn't peaceful and didn't bring to his tired frame any rest. He reached for a book after a couple of hours, but the words written on the page required from him way too much concentration and his migraine got worse after only a couple of pages, so he discarded the item once again. He checked the time one more time.

He had two hours left.

He made an almost-unbearable effort to extract himself from the covers and finally head for the shower, figuring that some warm water would help.

And it did. The shower gave him enough energy to carry his set of pillows and blankets to the sofa instead, moving his mess to the living-room so he could watch some stupid things on the TV.

He spent most of the rest of his time alone watching some old episodes of Columbo, keeping an eye on the time while he waited for you, hoping you wouldn't be delayed by the snow on your way home, his mood darkening some more at the mere thought.

And when you finally walked in your shared home, Ben couldn't refrain a relieved sigh.

He waited for the sound of your keys to drop on the little bowl by the door, for the sound of the shuffling of fabric as you took off your scarf, beanie, gloves and coat, and finally the thud sound of your shoes being kicked off. Finally, the muffled thumping of your footsteps on the wooden floor echoed through the hall, and you appeared by his side, your hair a little wet because of the snow, but you still seemed warm and cosy in your warm jumper.

"How are you feeling, baby?" you asked in a soft voice, tilting your head in wonder, and Ben swore that he had never seen anything cuter in his life.

He let out a groan, pouting dramatically.

"I feel awful," he mumbled, letting out a grumpy growl and holding his cover closer to him.

You sat down by his side on the sofa, and rested the back of your hand against his forehead.

"You still have fever, babe," you told him in the softest voice you could muster, your fingers sliding from his forehead to his hair, soothingly travelling through the dark strands. "Have you taken a shower?"

He nodded, before sneezing very loudly, the noise echoing throughout the room, and letting out a frustrated groan.

"I hate being like this," he pouted.

"I know, love. But you need to rest to get better, that's all we can do. I'm gonna make you some tea with honey, it'll help, okay?"

You were about to get up when he quickly grabbed your wrist, pulling you back to your seat gently. The quick gesture seemed to exhaust him even more, but he didn't mind, for once.

"No, stay. You'll do that later."

"It would be good for you…"

"No, please. Please stay with me. I've waited for you all day. Just… stay."

His eyes were watery because of his cold, and his nose all red, and his cheeks flushed with fever, and he was poutier than ever, buried under three blankets. There was simply no way for you to say no to him.

And it was unsaid, right now, but it wasn't hard to read in his eyes that he meant to add I love you to his plea.

So, you settled properly in the sofa, opening your arms for him to snuggle into your side.

He heaved a sigh, finally relaxing, as he tucked his head in the crook of your neck.

"I hope you don't get sick holding me like that," Ben mumbled into your skin, his voice muffled and barely audible, but you were so used to his voice by now that it wasn't hard for you to decipher what he was whispering.

You smiled a tender smile, that he couldn't see and that you barely noticed yourself as it formed across your lips, but it didn't matter. It wasn't aimed at anyone in particular anyway. It was just how he made you feel all the time.

"Well, if I do catch your cold, you'll have to nurse me back to health too, then," you replied, making him chuckle, his first laughter of the day.

"That's a deal. Besides, I'm gonna be a little selfish here, but I need you too much now to really care if you get sick or not."

It was your time to laugh, and your heart was filled with love as you did so, the bright sound illuminating the whole room.

"Well, you're feeling very bad, so, I won't hold that selfish act against you," you reassured him, and Ben closed his eyes as you started running your fingers in his dishevelled hair again.

"Thanks. Because I really do feel awful."

You hummed, focusing on the TV before you, but only for a moment, as Ben spoke again. He had missed your voice too much during the day, after all. And if having you in his arms was already working wonders on his mood, still, he wanted you all to himself, and you seemed to give way too much interest to the crime show on TV.

"How was your day, baby?" he asked in a hoarse voice, before he would be shaken by a cough.

"It was okay, a bit long," you admitted as Ben settled back into your arms.

"Tell me everything that happened, please?" he asked, looking up at you with puppy eyes, and you could only let out a fond chuckle as you kissed his forehead and proceeded to tell him everything about your day at work.

"Well, Marjorie broke the coffee machine this morning, which was undoubtedly a good odd for the rest of the day!"

You went on for a long time, sometimes slowing down to a stop when Ben's eyes remained closed for a while, and you thought he had fallen asleep, but he kept on asking you to continue then, his eyes still closed, so you did. He did fall asleep though, once you had finished your story and settled back in a comfortable silence with him nestled in your arms. You didn't mind, despite your position growing a little uncomfortable after a while. You watched TV while Ben caught up on some most needed sleep, a soft snore coming out of him once in a while making you smile fondly at him.

Yes, Ben was grumpy when he was sick. But then again, sometimes, he wasn't that grumpy, even if sick, for as long as he had you.

************************************************************

Taglist :  @ponycake27 @horsesreign @xinyourdreamsx @jbluevelvet@notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky@snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity@i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters @staringmoony​@geeksareunique​ @giggleberts​ @sad-orange-thoughts​ @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla​ @madamrogers​ @drinix​ @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse​ @newtstarmander​ @iammadeofstarsandlazyness @shinebrightlikeafanbase​ @wangmangagavroche​@presstocontinue @ilmiopiccolounivers0​

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes drabble #ben barnes fluff #christmas fic #ben barnes fic #fanfiction #fanfic #writing #drabble #imagine

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Under My Skin: Chapter 1

Series masterlist

Word count = 4,6 k

Chapter Warnings = swearing, canon-typical violence, bad writing

Summary = You hate Poe Dameron. Simple, right?

Edit = Cross posted to AO3

Part 1 of 4 (I think)

Poe Dameron didn’t like you and you didn’t like Poe Dameron.

“Because!” You grouse to Rose as you make your way to the cantina, “he thinks he’s so much better than everyone else, no one could ever come close to his skills, and he always gets the best missions, and he’s good, but he’s not that good, he acts like he’s god's gift to women - no scratch that - to the galaxy, and he’s so arrogant!” You’re growling in frustration as you round the corner, suddenly lowering your voice as much as you can because Dameron is right there at the end of the corridor, deep in discussion with General Organa and Finn.

Rose’s only response is to whack you over the head as she walks through the swinging doors in the centre of the corridor. You’ve never been so glad you don’t have to walk past Dameron in your life. “What was that about?” You hiss as you catch up with Rose, grabbing your own tray and helping yourself to dinner. “You didn’t have to hit me in front of General Organa.” Rose snorts. “Yeah the General was the one you were worried about.”

Trays full, the two of you spot an empty booth and hurry towards it, sitting opposite each other. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You won’t shut up about Poe.” She jabs her fork at you, causing bits of potato to fall to the table. You can only gape, words escaping you momentarily.

Momentarily.

“What! I won’t - Dameron - he - he and I - urgh! - never in my life - he’s annoying!” You settle on finally, fully aware that you’re now whining. “He frustrates me!”

Rose raises an eyebrow, “Well maybe you need to work out those frustrations.” You shake your head, deciding to ignore her for now as you concentrate on eating. “You do need to get laid.”

You yelp, coughing when you try to swallow too quickly in shock. And then- “I can help with that, sweetheart.” You whip round, eyes narrowing when Dameron’s behind you, his flight suit tied around his waist, exposing his dirty vest and irritatingly strong arms. The only person who can beat him in arm wrestling is Finn - you can no longer count the amount of times he’s beaten you.

You take another scoop of dinner before talking with a full mouth. “Ok, one, I’m not your sweetheart, and two, Rose is wrong, and even if she was right, I definitely don’t need your help with-” you pause, swallow, and gesture vaguely in his general direction. “That.”

This, annoyingly, only seems to make him grin more. “That? You’re not gonna call it what it is?” You lean back, pulling your most unimpressed look onto your face, as he continues, still smirking, even having the audacity to wink at you. “Hot, animal sex.”

Rolling your eyes, you scoff, turning back to your dinner. “Whatever you say, Dameron.”

“Does it make you feel better, being mean to me?” Dameron asks as he squeezes onto the small piece of bench next to you. You huff, moving up so that you’re not touching. You don’t like him, but you’re not rude. 

Ignoring his question, you deflect. “Where’s Finn? Don’t you want to sit with him?” It takes more effort than it should to sound like you’re asking out of interest, and not because you want him to go away. Which you do.

“He’s still talking to Leia.” Your eyes flick to Rose, and she knows what you’re thinking. You twist your body to face Dameron, bringing a leg up under you. “Is this about the mission?” Her voice is low as she leans across the table, forgetting about the rest of her dinner.

The last few days have been hell. Rumours have been flying around base, centered around a box full of Jedi crystals. Kyber crystals, you’d told Rose the other day, not that the name cleared anything up. You’d poked around the base’s library on your datapad when you had the odd chance, but the Jedi were now the stuff of legend, just stories told to children about ‘the good old days’.  

The rumours made things worse - you’re not sure how much of it to believe - there were so few people who were even Force sensitive but as far as you were aware there were no Jedi left. Luke Skywalker was lost, and therefore probably dead. And even if Jedi did still exist, weren’t they supposed to be the good guys? Why hadn’t they come to help fight along with the Resistance?

But Dameron decides to play dumb. “What mission?” His eyes are too wide to be innocent and it annoys you. “Finn’s talking to Leia about…” he pauses, eyes desperately searching the cantina as he tries to think of a good excuse. “The quality of the food!” Turning to you, his eyes are intense. “I know you want more chocolate pudding.” You ignore how he knows that, instead focusing on glaring at him. “Dameron do you think I’m a good pilot?”

“Look,” he turns to face you, ignoring his own food even as you continue to eat, “it’s nothing to do with your skills as a pilot.” He pauses, but you interrupt before he can give you some empty platitude. “I think it is - otherwise why am I not being included?”

“Hey, will you listen,” he turns to you, poking his finger at you for emphasis. “This mission is top-secret and the risk of the First Order finding out is high so-” This time you properly interrupt, flicking his finger out of your personal space.

“So you just decide to talk about it in the corridor by the busy cantina, where everyone and their mother will see you?”

This shuts him up.

The two of you are looking into each other's faces, inches apart. And it’s annoying because Dameron is unfortunately handsome. Why? Why is he of all people so good looking? Rose coughs obnoxiously loud, causing the two of you to break eye contact and turn to look at her. You lean back from him, trying your best to look thoroughly unimpressed as he stands, picking up his tray and when he speaks, huffing, his voice is sharper than it was before.

“Look, I only came over to say that we’re going to have a mission briefing tomorrow at 6. Ok? So, just-” He leaves, mumbling the rest of the sentence under his breath as he walks across the cantina towards Rey, leaving you with your mouth hanging open, looking and feeling like an idiot.

“Well,” you say as you turn back to Rose. “That’s why I hate him.”

“You’ve got a mission, aren’t you pleased about that?” You can tell you’re annoying her now, but you roll your eyes. “Yeah, with Dameron. He’s just going to be hanging over my shoulder and passing judgement whenever he can. I’m not getting my hopes up.”

Every time you came back from a mission Dameron was there. Always. Just waiting to tell you what you should have done, how you should have flown, how he would have done it. As though the only reason he hadn’t done it was because he was too important.

You knew you didn’t fly how most people did, it had cost you marks in your final exams at school, and it cost you a place in a higher squadron, but it was hard to find the will to change when the poster boy for the Resistance saw nothing but incompetence when he looked at you. Bastard, you couldn’t help but think as you stabbed the last of your greens, wishing it was his face.

***

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

The mission had been going so well. You’d dropped into the planet’s upper atmosphere, bypassing the planet’s security, got inside the compound, obtained the uber-secret box (your briefing hadn’t quite covered what was inside, annoyingly) and you’d been about to sneak out when you’d decided a bit more snooping was necessary.

The box had been in the centre of a library/museum set-up and even you could tell that these were rare books. So you’d told Dameron to inspect the objects while you scanned the books, pulling out a few that caught your eye.

The first warning you had been given was a blaster grazing your arm, causing you to yelp in pain, dropping the books and duck to the floor as another shot had ripped through the shelves - an inch or two above where your head had been. So a crap shot then.

Paper had fluttered down around you as you looked for Dameron. The shelves would provide good cover but unfortunately it also meant you couldn’t see your shooter. Pulling your blaster out from its holder, you aimed a couple of returning shots into the darkness at the edges of the room as you looked for Dameron.

You found him near the exit, standing over a number of droids. He’d been holding the box with one arm, the other bleeding heavily, but you’d managed to escape, tangling with another droid who’d punched you as you left the way you came, avoiding the crap shooter on your way out. You didn’t want the First Order to know who’d been there.

So now you and Dameron were walking back to the ship, cutting through undergrowth as you desperately tried to remember the way, face throbbing in pain. Dameron had fallen quiet very quickly, and you were alarmed to see how much blood he had lost so far. His face was pale and all you could think was that it was your fault. If you hadn’t’ve tried to poke around and look for other useful bits and pieces, you would have got out with no trouble.

Oh shit.

You were definitely lost now. You’d taken a gamble on the last turn and this was wrong. There should be a stream somewhere to your left which led back to the ship. Where was it? This was so wrong. And how were you going to admit this to Dameron? “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You swore under your breath.

“What’s wrong?” Dameron’s voice wasn’t right. He’d lost a lot of his power, and you turned to face him, watching as a small drop of blood fell to the floor. You don’t want to say it, you know he’s going to hold this over your head later, your first truly important mission and you’ve fucked up so bad. “I -” you hesitate, mouth open, so unwilling to say it, especially to Poe, you have to force it out. “We’re lost...I don’t know the way back.”

And...oh god, you’re not going to start crying are you? You can feel the familiar burn on the back of your eyes so you blink, looking away from him. But Dameron starts struggling, using his injured arm to try and reach down, looking for something. You move closer, grabbing his wrist and forcing him to stop moving, to stop aggravating his injury. “What are you doing?” And your voice is mean and you don’t know why but his skin is cool, cooler than it should be causing your heart to skitter out of control.

Dameron looks up into your face and his eyes are a little unfocused. Shit. “Looking for a tracker - the ship -” His voice doesn’t sound normal. But you have to be the calm one, you have to be the one in charge so you push the panic down, trying to speak normally. “Where is it? You shouldn’t be using that arm.”

“In my pocket, I -” But you’re one step ahead, unceremoniously dropping his wrist and reaching in, pulling the tracker out. A thin disc with a central button, which you press, and a red light spins around the edge before settling a direction to your left, forcing you to turn about 45 degrees.

You set off, pushing through the undergrowth and snapping branches from trees, kicking any debris out of Poe’s path as he stumbles behind you. Panic is still rising in you, you can’t be the reason the Resistance’s best pilot dies. Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuckin’ motherfucker, please, please, plea-

You pause for a second, trying to get your breathing back under control, even as it skitters away from you. You glance back at Poe, who nods at you.

BB-8 is waiting back at the ship, preliminary checks before take-off having been completed. You help Poe lift into the co-pilot’s chair you’d been occupying earlier and squeezing into the pilot’s chair. You don’t remember the flight back, don’t remember dodging the planet’s security as you took off, all you remember is how pale and quiet Poe is. He watches you the whole way which would normally annoy you, but you don’t think his eyes are fully focused.

You’ve done better landings when you get back to the base, but you don’t really care, Poe’s breathing is different, you can’t stop the panic rising in you, and the second you’ve opened the door you’re yelling, voice already hoarse. “Medic! Medic! I need - I need a medic!” People swirl around you, when did they get here? But you don’t want to let go of Poe, one arm around his back, his uninjured one around your neck while you keep a tight hold of the box.

You fight as someone tries to unfurl your fingers, Poe’s weight disappearing and you’re crying now, hardly able to open your eyes. You don’t feel the sharp sting of the tranquilizer, instead blindly fighting the rising darkness inside you, unable to recognise it for what it is. Voices are all around you, muffled like you’re underwater and lights are appearing in bright spots above your head. You’re floating, falling backwards, further and further, until everything turns black.

***

The debrief was not fun.

Barely out of the medbay, you’d relayed to General Organa what had happened, how it had been your idea to stay back, how you’d got lost in the forest after, how you made a mess.

Due to your injuries, it had been just you and her, and even now, safely in your bunk, you couldn’t decide if that was better or worse than having to tell a whole command room. Sure, you’d been spared public humiliation, but at the cost of having General Organa’s full attention on your failure.

You’d pulled your curtain across your bunk, and you felt as though you might have to stay buried under your covers for at least a week to emotionally recover from the whole ordeal. The worst part of it was that General Organa hadn’t even seemed disappointed, or angry, just...like she expected it.

And Dameron was still in the medbay. It was coming up to 4 days later, but you’d maintained your distance, not sure your fragile heart could stand the pain of knowing his condition was your fault, no matter what anyone said.

You wanted to see him, to apologise, but at the same time the idea of facing him made you feel sick. It was your fault he was in the medbay, you should have prevented it. In fact, the only reason you even knew he was still in the medbay was because you assumed there would be some kind of announcement or celebration when he was better.

A knock on your door made you jump, and then frown, however the door began to open before you could respond which you supposed was kind of your fault, you should have locked it, now you were going to have to talk to someone-

And General Organa walks into the room.

You stand up so fast, you get a rush of blood to the head, your vision going black slightly at the edges. “General, I-” you start talking before you even know what you’re going to say, so shocked to see your hero in your room. Your eyes flick over to the mess of clothes you haven’t bothered to wash in the last week, tissues on the floor, half eaten snack bars and their wrappers littered around as you wished the room was a lot tidier.

“I wanted to check how you were getting on.” Her voice is soft, but still carries that familiar authority as she pulls out the chair from your desk and sits on it.

Your mind goes blank. General Organa...wanted to check...on you?

You manage to pull yourself together, sitting back down on your bed with a suddenly excellent posture. “Good, thank you General.” You can hardly look at her, it’s like she emits light, and it’s too bright, too much.

You’re hyper-aware of your every movement, this is the first time you’ve properly talked to her, you want her to like you, and oh my god she’s in your room? Her eyes never leave you, so you stare at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “Call me Leia.” She pauses, but it’s not enough time for the implications of that to sink in. “It’s understandable if you’re still feeling rough.” Oh stars you’re going to cry.

Your eyes are watery and you know looking down only increases the chances of them falling, but if you look up, she’ll see. “I wish I’d done things differently.” You say, and your voice sounds rough.

The room is swimming when you finally look up, but General Orga - Leia is smiling softly at you. “I think about every second of that mission and for every decision that I made, I wish, I wish I did the opposite thing.”

“Why?” The question is asked so simply, and there are so many answers, they crowd your mind. “You were successful, weren’t you?” Still you can only gape at her. Successful? Dameron is still in the medbay-

“I know what it’s like to blame yourself for a mission going sideways.” Leia continues, “But you retrieved the box, you’re both alive, Poe is healing well, the medics say the bleeding has stopped and his stomach is on the mend now.” His stomach? You frown, his stomach wasn’t injured, it was just his shoulder, but Leia mistakes your frown for further dissent.

“I know you think it was your fault because you said let’s stay behind, but what if you had found something important? And Poe agreed, didn’t he? It’s not just on you. You just have to learn when the risk is worth the reward.” With that, she stands, so you do too. “I’ll formally debrief the two of you together when Poe’s out of the medbay, but I thought you needed to know this.” You nod, unable to speak again, but this time for an entirely different reason.

It’s almost too late before you can speak again, Leia halfway out of the door, but she turns back when she hears your voice. “Thank you.” And you mean it. Leia didn’t say much, and nothing new, but she was right. The mission was technically a success. Things went wrong, but you were both alive.

Sitting back on your bed, you feel lighter, more like normal. And a part of that normality is annoyance towards a certain pilot. He was injured in his stomach? The more you think about it, the more a cold fury rises in you. Why wouldn’t he say? He was carrying that heavy box and - you let out a growl, surprisingly loud in the quiet room.

You make your way to the medbay, becoming angrier and angrier with each step. No wonder he had so much blood loss! How dare he not say anything! How could he not tell you? Did he not trust you?

You ignore the signs that tell you visiting hours are over, and maybe it’s the look in your eyes that stops any medics from reminding you as such when you march up to the front desk. “I need to see Poe Dameron, which room is he in?” You feel a tiny bit bad for being so demanding to an overworked medic, but you can’t think past how Poe Dameron lied to you.

You’re shaking as you walk to Dameron’s room, not bothering with pleasantries as you bang open the door. He’s lying in the bed, BB-8 charging in the corner and had you been calmer you would have noticed how Dameron jerked awake when you slammed his door shut. You ignore how he’s hooked up to various machines and drips, bandages covering his body.

“You were shot in the stomach?” Your voice is mean again.

Dameron just blinks groggily at you, a combination of drugs and tiredness, but you push down any pity, letting righteous anger flood your veins with fire. “What?” His voice is hoarse from misuse and sleep.

“You were shot in the stomach?” You repeat, keeping hold of that cold fury as you look down at his face. This extra minute is all Dameron needs to wake up properly and realise why you’re so upset. “No- just, just stabbed.”

“Just!” - and it’s like you’re watching yourself, no control over your actions and even to your own ears you sound hysterical, the volume of your voice rising.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” You demand as he presses a button, lifting the top half of his bed up. Tears are once again pricking your eyes, but this time you will not be crying, so you wipe them away quickly, past caring.

“Because,” Dameron huffs, realising that's not a full sentence. “I don’t know - you...you had enough on your plate, I didn’t want to add to it.”

“You should have told me.” Your voice is dangerous now, your whole body thrumming with an unshakeable anger, even as you stand completely still. A strong undercurrent continues to carry you onwards in the conversation, and you know you’ll need to leave before it runs out. “You carried that box for fuck knows how long, and what? You were just hiding your injury? You just wanted to be a hero, or embarrass me?”

Dameron stays silent, glare heavy in his eyebrows. It’s too much, you want, you need answers.

“ANSWER ME!” You roar, lashing out in defence.

“I had to!” He’s shouting now too, pushing against the bed with his strong arm. “It was hard enough to snap you out of it when we were in the compound - I wasn’t going to add to it - I had to know you could fly us home!”

His words are like they punched you, a heavy exhalation, and it’s as though all the anger was tightly held in your lungs. “I flew us home.” Your voice sounds small as you take a step back. Dameron’s found the one chink in your armour again, just like he did when you first met, the one weak spot of your insecurity and smashed it to smithereens.

There’s silence in the medbay, pushing against your eardrums as though to emphasise just how the loud the two of you were. There’s a brief flicker of curiosity in the back of mind, wondering why the nurses haven’t intervened yet.

You can’t look at Dameron anymore, instead taking in the number of different machines he’s hooked up to, watching the drips, how his heart rate starts to lower as he forces himself to calm down. “So you didn’t trust me?” You don’t want the answer, but you can’t stop the words.

He takes his time answering again, but you still don’t look at him, hands playing behind your back with the hem of your jumper. “If you don’t trust me - you should have asked Leia to switch me out!” Shut up, shut up, shut up, why can’t you stop talking, you stupid-

“Maybe I should’ve!” His voice doesn’t change, there’s no difference in his heart beat, although it’s on the high side of normal, matching yours, but something changed. There’s a split in the room, a chasm separating the two of you that wasn’t there before.

“Well why didn’t you?”

“Because I felt sorry for you!” Your eyes snap up, looking at his face in terror. “I wanted to give you a chance! I didn’t think you’d fuck up like that.” If Dameron’s earlier words were a punch to your gut, these sent you sprawling. Short of an atomic blast inside you, any feeling left inside you was obliterated. Hot embarrassment crawls up your arms and you want Dameron to feel the same pain.

“Fuck you.”

The words hang there, each second an eon. Poe instantly regrets his words, knowing he’s gone too far. He opens his mouth to apologise, but the words don’t come.

Neither of you say anything, glares still spitting red-hot fire, when you suddenly want to leave. You don’t want to see Dameron’s face again, not for a long time. So you clench your jaw, throwing up your middle finger and slamming the door behind you.

***

Isolating yourself doesn’t seem quite so appealing once you’ve left the medbay, so instead you make your way to Rose’s room, grabbing a bottle of firewater from the cantina as you pass. You need a drink.

When you arrive, you’re not sure you want to talk about the recent shitstorm your life has recently become so the first words out of your mouth when Rose opens the door is- “Do you like Jannah?”

It’s a little mean of a conversation to spring on your friend, but you’re a lot of things, and blind is not one of them. You’ve seen how the two mechanics look at each other. Especially when they think the other won’t see. Holding up the bottle as a peace offering, Rose smirks at you before leaving her door open as an invitation.

Rose denies having a crush on Jannah as you work through the bottle, only conceding on the point that Jannah is very pretty. You’re probably a little too quick to agree, blaming it on the drink that’s currently making you feel like you’re floating a couple of inches above the ground.

Comfortable silence falls on the two of you as you sit there, the floor a little cold under you, leaning against Rose’s bed.

“I’ve been thinking-” Rose starts but you interrupt before she can get any further.

“Dangerous.”

Rose doesn’t dignify this with a response, instead waiting until you wave a hand at her to continue.

“We’ve got a coordinating day off next cycle, if you wanna go to Sanctuary III. They’ll have a festival then, I can’t remember which but it should be good fun.” You can tell she’s keen, so you’ll go with her, but you find it hard to inject any enthusiasm into your voice.

Rose picks up on this, sighing as she refills her glass. “Alright don’t seem too keen on the idea.”

Your shrug, not really wanting to talk about the real reason you can’t find any excitement. “Sorry. I’ll go with you. It’ll be fun.”

“What’s wrong?” Her voice is gentle, and her hand is on your arm, and it’s so reassuring, so warm, your skin sings under her palm.

You talk to your feet as you tell Rose what Dameron said. “-and he - it was horrible, Rose,” you sniffle, tears springing into your eyes again. “And I - we’ve never got on, he’s, y’know, annoying, we’re always bickering, but I just - I never thought that he actually - it’s my fault he’s injured, and maybe he does hate me and-”

You stop your tirade and for the first time, just let yourself cry and breathe for a second. Rose’s arm comes around your shoulder and you lean into it, slightly. “It’s fine - I mean I never liked him anyway, now I can just move straight into the dislike section, maybe even hate I dunno.”

“Ok you should know that that’s not healthy first of all.” Rose’s voice floats out from above your head. “Second, I’m sure he didn’t mean it, and anyway, who cares what he thinks? Leia thought you did well. And third, this is all the more reason to do something on our day off!”

You give a weak chuckle and nod. You spent the rest of the night, playing cards and chatting about lighter topics until both of your eyes start to burn and you make your way to bed.  

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Chapter 2

#poe dameron x reader #poe x reader #...eventually #Star Wars #poe dameron #fanfic #please be nice lol #so nervous I'm grinding my teeth #but I couldn't look at this anymore it was just getting worse by the second #if anyone wants to listen/know about the playlist I made for this let me know #I have a problem with both italics and commas #who knew #I physically feel sick posting this oh god #should be writing my uni essay instead #if I missed any warnings/triggers please let me know

[purrincess-chat]

My Chosen’s Keeper CH3 (FINAL)

Here is the last chapter of the petty kwami AU. I have basically this whole week off because of Hurricane Sally, so I decided to go ahead and post the last chapter since I finished it up. I’m so happy you all enjoy this fic, and I hope you like the conclusion!

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

After a week, Lila stopped scheming against Marinette. In fact, she’d stopped doing much of anything. Every so often she’d look over her shoulder as if expecting someone to be following her, and she flinched every time she opened her locker or her bag.

Tikki was satisfied enough with their efforts, though she worried they’d gone too far when Lila spun around on poor Nathaniel walking behind her to his seat. Her goal was to inconvenience Lila, not scare her out of her skin, and now her stomach was churning too much to enjoy her morning macaron. She popped into Adrien’s bag where Plagg was dozing in an empty Camembert carton and shook him awake.

“Plagg, do you think maybe we went too far with all of this?” She asked, but Plagg simply shrugged his shoulders and burped.

“Relax, sugar cube. That girl got what was coming to her.”

“Yeah, but she’s petrified now, and people are starting to notice,” she said with a nervous glance up at the open zipper. “I think we should stop.”

“Fine,” Plagg yawned, and Tikki prodded his side.

“I’m serious, Plagg. No more pranks.”

“Okay,” he said, and she sat back, antenna pressing low against her head.

“Good,” she said with a nod.

As the bell rang, Tikki slipped back into Marinette’s bag before her owner noticed her absence. She tried to push the whole situation from her mind, but when Alya leaned against Marinette’s neighboring locker, her nerves only worsened.

“Lila’s been acting super paranoid today. I wonder what’s bugging her,” Alya whispered, casting a glance at their classmate across the room.

“Nathaniel told me she thinks she’s being haunted,” Marinette said. Even she seemed concerned, and Tikki shrank deeper into her purse.

“I mean, a lot of crazy stuff has been happening to her, so maybe she is,” Alya said with a wince.

“I wouldn’t doubt if she’d made a spirit angry,” Marinette mumbled, and Alya leaned in closer.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I feel kinda bad for her. I saw her dozing off in class earlier. She must not be sleeping,” Alya said, biting her lip. “Hey, why don’t we all plan a sleepover? Maybe if a group of us supports her then she’ll feel safe enough to sleep.”

“Uhh, yeah, sure,” Marinette said, sounding anything but willing. “You plan it, and I will definitely not think of an excuse not to go.”

“I’ll ask her this afternoon. It’ll be fun.” Alya nudged her with her elbow before they headed to their next class.

To Tikki’s horror, not only did Lila accept the sleepover invitation, but somehow, she managed to convince them to host it at Marinette’s house. Lila had a way of backing people into corners, and Marinette didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Tikki was equally as unenthused. Just what she needed—another reason to get involved.

“Plagg, what am I gonna do?” Tikki asked that afternoon in art class. “I know she’s up to something!”

“Do you want me to leave stinky cheese in her locker again?”

“No!”

“Good because it’s a terrible waste of perfectly good cheese.”

“Plagg! I’m serious. What if Lila does something to my owner tonight?” Tikki said, tugging his arm. “Help me!”

“I thought you wanted to be done with all of this? No more pranks?” Plagg said, and Tikki averted her gaze, antenna lowering.

“I do, but she’s coming into her personal home. What if she finds her diary and learns that she’s Ladybug? Or what if she just so happens to steal her earrings? Or what if-”

“Don’t worry, sugar cube. I’ll help you tonight. Lila won’t get away with anything, okay?” Plagg said, patting her head.

“You mean it?”

“Have I ever lied to you?” Plagg asked, and Tikki’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, bad question. I promise I won’t let you down—this time.”

“Thanks, Plagg.”

Later that evening, Tikki chewed her lip as Marinette tidied up for her guests. She’d helped remove any lingering Adrien pictures despite her friends all knowing about her crush, but Marinette was just as wary of having Lila over as Tikki. As a result, she was taking a few extra precautions like hiding her diary and anything else Lila could use against her. It eased some of Tikki’s worry, but not all of it.

“Are you really going to have that girl over?” She asked as Marinette locked her important belongings in her chest.

“I couldn’t exactly say no. Lila is too good at manipulating everyone. If I had said no, she would have made it seem like I hate her,” Marinette said, leaning against her fist.

“But you do hate her.”

“Yeah, but I can’t prove why I hate her to everyone, so I don’t have a choice,” Marinette sighed. “We’ll just have to be extra careful tonight. I doubt Lila will try anything with all of the girls over.”

“Yeah. Hopefully.”

Thankfully Alya arrived first to help set up because Lila was the first after her. She seemed surprised and slightly annoyed to find Alya there as well, and Tikki’s blood boiled at the sight of her. She popped up to the roof, tapping her paws together as she peered out over the street. The night was calm and quiet—a direct contrast to the storm brewing inside her. Where was Plagg?

“Ya know, you really worry too much.”

She spun around to see him lounging on the chair with a cheese danish from the bakery. Relief flooded her mind, but it was quickly replaced by annoyance. “Where have you been?”

“Relax, sugar cube. I was doing some important reconnaissance,” he said around a mouthful.

“You mean helping yourself to whatever your greedy stomach wanted?” She crossed her arms over her chest. “You are so selfish!”

“Oh, then I suppose you already know that Lila has a lockpick in her bag?”

“She- you- oh…Well, then we should-”

“Already did. And her toothbrush just for fun,” he snickered, and Tikki lowered onto the chair beside him. “I’m a little insulted that you don’t believe in me.”

“Dinosaurs, Atlantis, the Black Plague…”

Plagg bit off a chunk of his pastry and chewed it grumpily. “We never talk about your mistakes.”

“Thank you, Plagg,” Tikki said, and he blinked, swallowing the rest of the danish whole. “For everything.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me.” He turned his back to her and waved it away, but she could see the smile tugging on his lips. “Now come on. We’ve got work to do.”

The girls were gathered in Marinette’s room when Tikki and Plagg snuck in and took position on Marinette’s bed. Marinette had strategically positioned herself on top of her locked chest, and partnered with Plagg’s disposal of Lila’s lock pick, it eased some of Tikki’s nerves. At least her secrets would be safe, but that didn’t mean Lila didn’t have other tricks up her sleeve.

After a while, they moved downstairs to watch a movie, and Mr. Dupain brought up homemade pizza. Plagg groaned beside her as the girls pulled apart stretchy strips of cheese, and Tikki restrained him from flying down and helping himself.

Halfway through the movie, Lila got up to go to the bathroom, and Tikki followed. Just as she feared, the moment the door closed, Lila set to work silently opening cabinets. Tikki had half a mind to spray her with the sink nozzle again, but after a few minutes of searching, Lila found what she was looking for—a metal nail file. She pulled a bobby pin from her hair and tucked them both into her pocket.

Back out in the main room, she announced that she was going to go upstairs and call her mom who was traveling overseas on some important ambassador thing, and she only had a short window in the evening to talk to her because of timezones or something. It didn’t matter the reason because it was a lie. Marinette’s glare followed her up the stairs with Tikki right behind it.

“Plagg?” She hissed, glancing around for that lazy black cat, but she didn’t have to guess where he was. “I told you not to touch the pizza!”

Plagg clung to the piece he was greedily stuffing in his mouth as Tikki tugged on his tail. “Oh come on! Mr. Dupain makes his own mozzarella. I couldn’t resist!”

“Lila is on the move! She took a nail file from the bathroom, and now she’s upstairs! Come on!”

Plagg caressed his slice of pizza one last time before Tikki dragged him up the stairs. Lila was already kneeling beside the chest, nail file and bobby pin at work.

“Come on, stupid chest. I know Marinette is behind all of the weird stuff happening to me lately,” she grumbled. “I just need something to blackmail her with to make it all stop. Just open!”

“Plagg, what are we gonna do?” Tikki whispered, and Plagg was already surveying the rest of the room.

“Follow my lead,” he said, darting for the nearest mannequin.

Lila nearly had the lock open when a stack of shoeboxes toppled over, and she jumped. Seeing that it was only boxes, she took a deep breath and turned back to her work.

“What?” She gasped when her makeshift lock picks were no where to be found.

“Lila…”

She startled, jumping up and spinning around, but no one was in the room. No one she could see anyway.

“Liiiila…”

“Very funny, Marinette. I know it’s you. It’s been you the whole time. I don’t know how, but you won’t beat me,” she said, but the way her eyes flicked frantically around the room betrayed her true fear.

“Leave her alone…”

The mannequin by the chaise, surged forward, and Lila’s scream filled the house. She scrambled for the trapdoor, but it wouldn’t budge no matter how hard she tugged. The girls rushed up the stairs, Marinette at the front. She pushed the trapdoor open easily to find Lila curled into a ball on the floor, tears streaming down her face.

“What are you doing?” Marinette demanded, and Alya crawled up to wrap an arm around Lila’s shoulders.

“The mannequin!” Lila wailed.

“What about it?” Marinette asked.

“It-It talked and moved and-and-” She pointed across the room, but the mannequin had returned to its original place. Even the shoeboxes had righted themselves. “But…”

“Maybe we should all just go to bed,” Alya suggested, and Lila grabbed her shoulders.

“But it did move! I swear I’m not making it up,” she said, gripping her shirt so tightly that Alya swatted her hands away with a hiss.

“I think you’re just tired-”

“Or crazy,” Marinette mumbled, masking it with a cough.

“Sleep deprivation can make you see weird things,” Alya said. “Come on. Let’s get you some sleep.”

As the girls moved downstairs again, Marinette eyed her chest, but her secrets were safe. Tikki still stayed up all night to make sure Lila didn’t try anything again, but their ghost stunt seemed to have scared her off the idea.

When morning light streamed in from the windows, Tikki sat back with a yawn. Curling in next to Plagg snoring loudly on Marinette’s chaise, she slipped off into sleep with the reassurance that Marinette was safe.

***

The Monday after the sleepover, Lila entered the school on a quest for vengeance. Dark bags hung under blood-shot eyes, and her whole demeanor was slightly unhinged as everyone hung out in the courtyard on break. Tikki knew she was going to target Marinette again, so she lingered close by—waiting.

Marinette was sketching on a bench by herself while a maintenance man repainted the railing to her left. When he reached a stopping point, he scooted the ladder next to the bench and took his break, but Marinette never looked up from her drawing.

“Hey, I heard about the sleepover. What happened?” Adrien materialized at Marinette’s side, startling her out of her skin. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Marinette relaxed. “I don’t know. I knew she was up to no good, and while we were all watching a movie, she went up to my room to ‘call her mom’ then she just started screaming and freaking out,” Marinette said, shooting her a glare across the courtyard. “I don’t really know what happened, but she swears my mannequin talked to her.”

“Do you think she’s doing it all for attention?” Adrien asked, but Marinette pursed her lips.

“I don’t think so this time. She seemed really freaked out when we found her. I think she’s actually losing her mind,” Marinette said.

“You don’t think she’s really being haunted, do you?” Adrien’s green eyes clouded with worry.

“I don’t know,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Maybe she is making it all up for attention, or maybe all of her lying is finally catching up to her.”

“Let’s hope this convinces her to start telling the truth whatever it is,” he said. “I’m just glad she didn’t do anything to you. I was worried when I heard she was coming to your house for a sleepover.”

Marinette’s cheeks flushed at that, and she took her eyes off Lila. Adrien was the perfect distraction, but Tikki wasn’t so easily deterred because Lila was watching them too. Their friendly smiles and close proximity drove her over the edge. When she dashed toward them, Tikki braced herself, but Lila wasn’t aiming for the bench.

Tikki glanced up at the paint can resting precariously on the top of the ladder beside them, recognizing the intent in Lila’s eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” she said, flitting up to the bucket.

Lila rocked the ladder, but against the laws of natural physics, the can twirled around and dumped on top of her. The courtyard fell silent as the can clattered to the ground, and Lila wiped green paint from her face.

“That’s it!” She screeched, pointing a finger at Marinette. “This is all your fault!”

“Lila, Marinette didn’t do anything. I was talking to her the whole time,” Adrien said, holding up cautioning hands.

“No! Everything is her fault!” Lila stomped a foot. “I don’t know how you keep doing it, but I know it’s you!”

“Lila, what are you-” Alya started, but Lila lunging at Marinette cut her off. Nino and Ivan caught her, and Adrien took a defensive stance in front of Marinette.

“How did you do it, Marinette?” She growled. “I put those test answers in your schoolbag, but they weren’t there when Mlle. Bustier checked! I planted my necklace in your locker during lunch, but somehow you put it back! How did you do it?”

Marinette and Adrien cupped hands over their mouths as the weight of those words settled among their classmates. Confusion and anger snaked its way onto every face, and more classmates joined Adrien guarding Marinette.

“Wait, you tried to frame Marinette? But why?” Nathaniel asked, and Lila shot him a glare.

“Because I hate her! She’s always getting in my way and ruining my plans. I’d have you all eating out of the palm of my hand if it wasn’t for her!” She said, shoulders heaving. She ripped away from Nino and Ivan and kicked the paint bucket with a shriek.

“Whoa, so all those times Marinette said you were lying…” Nino said, lowering his gaze.

“She was right,” Adrien spoke up, and all eyes turned to him. “Lila is a liar. Nothing she’s ever said is true. She just wanted to use all of you for attention.”

“So, you’ve never met Jagged Stone?” Rose deflated.

“And let me guess. You’re not really bffs with Ladybug,” Alya said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Of course I’m not friends with that stupid insect! I hope Hawkmoth takes her Miraculous and rids the world of her stupid face!” Lila shouted.

“What’s going on here?” Mr. Damocles demanded as he and Mlle. Bustier approached.

“Karma,” Marinette said with a grunt.

Lila glanced between each face glaring back at her, the rage-induced fog clearing enough for her to see the damage she’d inflicted. Her eyes widened, and her shoulders shrank. For the first time since she’d stepped foot in their school, Lila was exposed. Powerless. Small.

“My office. Now.” Mr. Damocles barked through gritted teeth, and Lila followed behind him quietly. She had nothing left to say. No more lies to tell.

“M, are you okay?” Alya pulled her best friend in for a tight hug. “I’m so sorry I never believed you.”

“Yeah, we should have known better. You never trip out over anyone unless there’s a reason,” Nino said, ruffling her hair.

“We’re sorry, Marinette.”

“Yeah, we shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“It’s fine,” Marinette said, cutting everyone off. “Really. I’m not mad at you. Lila manipulated all of you. It’s not your fault she can’t tell the truth.”

“Marinette…” Alya cooed, and all of their classmates huddled around her.

When the bell rang, they all dispersed, heading to their next class, but Marinette excused herself to the bathroom. Tikki slipped back into her purse, relieved that it was finally over and that she hadn’t been caught. Or rather, she thought she hadn’t been caught until Marinette ripped open her purse and dumped her out into her waiting hand.

“I thought kwamis weren’t supposed to meddle,” she said, quirking a brow, and Tikki shrank guiltily.

“I’m sorry, Marinette! I just knew she was up to no good, and I couldn’t let her frame you,” she said, pressing her paws together.

“Putting the test answers back and moving the necklace are like you, but exploding milk cartons and mannequin ghosts?” Marinette cocked a hip. “Plagg, I know you helped too.”

A sinister chortle echoed above them as Plagg floated down beside Tikki. “I couldn’t let sugar cube have all the fun.”

“We’re really sorry,” Tikki said, lowering her head.

She braced for her punishment, but instead, Marinette lifted the two of them to her lips and planted a soft kiss on each of their heads. “Thanks, you two.”

“You mean you’re not mad?”

“Nah, Lila deserved it,” she said with a shrug.

“I’ll accept my reward in the form of one of those tasty cheese danishes your dad makes,” Plagg said, puffing his chest out, and Marinette scratched under his chin with a giggle.

“You can have all the cheese danishes you want,” she said. “It’s nice to know you two have my back.”

“Of course,” Plagg said, draping an arm over Tikki’s shoulders. “If someone wants to mess with the Bug, they’re gonna have to go through us.”

“We’ll always make sure you’re safe,” Tikki added, and Marinette held out a pink with a smile.

“Bien Joué!”

#miraculous ladybug #tikki #plagg #marinette dupain-cheng #lila salt #petty kwami au #my writing #uninteresting tidbit #chapter 1 was 1k chapter 2 was 2k and now chapter 3 is 3k #this was unintentional but i find it amusing #anyway #enjoy #hiatus cat

[flwrpersona]

I am once again thinking about Shu’s social link in P4, and about how so many let’s players seem bored/annoyed/indifferent about Shu. Some never continue his link, prioritizing others. He comes off moody in your first interaction with him (you can even call him a prick, right to his face!) His initial behavior seems to turn a lot of ppl off from trying his link any further. Which is a damn shame. Shu’s social link is underrated as hell, since he’s low key a very important social link.

You learn through it that Shu is facing immense pressure from his mother to have the best grades. He himself puts value on the grades he gets. Shu knows that studies are his strong suit, so that’s why he accepts that schooling will be his path for the future. He’s so young, yet college is brought up at one point. He’s at the top of his class, but still hires you to tutor him. And even if you’re there to help him study, he starts hinting that he enjoys your company, despite how anti-social and pessimistic he seems initially.

Achievement in school is tied into how successful his future will be, how successful of a person he currently is, and even his own mother’s love for him. But when he starts to feel like he’s falling behind in school he cheats. To such a young kid, everything is on the line if he’s not the best of the best. And that’s damn heartbreaking. Most of his inadequate feelings probably started with that new transfer student he tells you about. The kid’s previous school was ahead, so he’s smarter than everyone (which was Shu’s thing in school.) And the new kid is apparently also good at sports and talking with everyone.... (He seems to have it all.) Shu is dejected and heartbroken by the entire situation.

Because of Yu Shu has support through it all. Instead of feeling scared and alone, he has a shoulder to lean on. He can vent his feelings and get advice of what he should do. If you didn’t have an impromptu birthday party for him he’d never open up to you about his feelings. You’d never have the chance to help him. And I’d bet that if you don’t do his social link he’d not have the confidence to talk to his mother about the cheating situation. And after the whole experience he realizes that his studies aren’t the most important thing. He and him mother come to an understanding, and she affirms that she’ll always love him. He says that he‘ll join a sports club, has always wanted to try it (but put all his effort on his studies before.) Lastly he stops hiring you to tutor him. Which is a happy ending to the social link.

But what if you ignore Shu? Unknowingly leaving Shu to deal with the heavy pressures of school life alone. (There’s a chance his mother would have noticed and maybe they’d still have a conversation, but would it be too late? Would Shu isolate himself from everyone completely? Convince himself that his grades will determine is future, that he has to be the best of the best to be successful, to be loved, to do the things society expects of him?) Would Shu learn to hate the world around him? To hate that transfer student, who seems to naturally be smarter and better that Shu in so many ways. He was on a path of becoming cynical at life. I know that it’s kind of an extreme, depressing what if situation but....

Ya’ll this is just a precursor of Adachi. Adachi says that his parents only ever wanted him to study. He was the “best of the best”, smarter than most others around him. He wasn’t allowed to be with friends or have hobbies, he studied. He couldn’t pursue frivolous hobbies/interests (*cough* magic), he studied. So much of the stuff Shu talks about, even his standoffish behavior towards you, is reflected in what we know about Adachi’s past. It’s crazy to me to think about how many ppl seem disinterested in his social link and just decide to ignore it. Feeling alone while growing up is a driving factor of how Adachi turned out the way he did. So everyone that ignored Shu just created another Adachi in the world, congrats.

I did not expect this post to get very long, so while I could probably go off about this topic more specifically, I’ll wrap it up. Shu is an important social link bc it helps you understand Adachi a good bit. And I do wanna leave this post off with how oddly similar Adachi’s Beta Design looks to Shu’s design. Intentional? I think they both have socially awkward boy genius vibes to them, at least.

#persona 4 #p4 #Tohru Adachi #Shu nakajima #social link #meta #analysis #mine #it’s me Of Course I tie it back to Adachi #Shu’s situation with the transfer student is so similar to Adachi and Yu...like Yu is perfect who took Adachi’s place w/ the Dojima’s #plus Yu is super good with school and sports and a social life that Adachi was never allowed growing up

[rainywritingsx]

scenario: Beelzebub & Asmodeus trying to get reader back

Request: wOAH your cheater head cannons were AMAZING dude!! if you want, could you write the rest of the brothers? or if that's too much could you do beel and asmo trying their hardest to get MC to forgive them but it just doesn't work and MC gets with someone else and it's super a n g s t y ?

ahh thank you so so much!! Seriously, to everyone who read that, I was so surprised by the response it received. I’m not very experienced with writing angst which is why I was actually terrified of posting it at all since I was worried I might’ve been too dramatic. But all of the positive feedback made me feel at ease, so thank you all so much for giving the scenarios this much love!

I only write for a maximum of 3 characters per request, I’m sorry :/ buuttt this means I will write part 2 for Asmo and Beel! Also you didn’t specify who this other person would be so,,, I decided to use one of the undateables, since I’ve been playing the game for a longer time now and kinda figured out their characters. Also,,,, the thought of MC ending up with one of the other brothers hurts me oof

++ I just noticed that I kinda went somewhere else with your request, I’m so sorry. I only realised this afterwards and well, throwing this away completely isn’t really what I want to do ;-; my dearest apologies, I’ll make sure to be more careful nex time. Now, have fun reading, I hope you’re still able to enjoy it despite the fact that I kind of changed it up a bit!

Total word count: 2498

Beelzebub

To say the demon was absolutely devastated, would be an understatement. His sadness had gotten to the point where his appetite was way less than usual, which did not go unnoticed by the other brothers. They all got worried about him.

It got to the point where Belphegor was fed up with it, which he made clear to his twin brother. They were now in their room, Beel was just staring at the wall without saying anything. His eyes were teary and his cheeks were puffy. The sight was heartbreaking, but Belphie was tired of this and worried, because it’s been at least a week since you two broke up and he hadn’t gotten any better. So he knew something had to change now.

“Beel, listen up,” Belphegor said, his voice low but sharp. Beelzebub looked at Belphegor, indicating that he could go on. “You can’t keep being like this. I get that you’re sad but this won’t get you anywhere. You miss y/n and want her back? Then you have to work for it. She’s not going to come back to you if you don’t even put effort into showing how sorry you are. Stupid humans aren’t that smart.”

Beel didn’t reply for a while, taking in his brother’s words. Belphegor let out an annoyed sigh before mumbling quietly “I’m gonna take a nap.” He didn’t wait for his twin brother to reply and soon dozed off into a deep slumber.

Beelzebub tried his best to concentrate, but his never-ending hunger seemed to be unbearable right now. He made the decision to go to the kitchen and find some food in the fridge to eat. However, even on his way to the kitchen Beel couldn’t stop thinking about Y/n. Since they had broken up with him, he had barely seem them. It seemed they either ate breakfast early as a way to avoid him and at school he barely had any chances to talk to them either. So how was he going to be able to apologise to them? He had to find a way to be with them alone. But what was he even going to do? What was he going to say? A small pout had formed on his face at this point as he looked through the fridge for something tasty.

Upon seeing his custard, his face lit up. And that was also the moment he realised what he could do for y/n. When they were still together, the two would hang out very often and there were so many times where they’d eat custard together, to the point where Beel did not eat it alone anymore. It showed how much he cared about them, as he didn’t share his custard that easily. It also felt like a thing the two of them had at this point. So when Beel grabbed the custard and devoured it, he felt empty. It was different now that he was eating it on his own.

He knew it. He was going to buy the two of them custard, ask y/n to hang out with him and if they don’t want to he will give them space. If they do want to however, he will give them the little surprise and talk to them. He just had to find the right moment. And while on one hand Beel wanted to wait, his heart told him to do it as soon as possible.

“Tomorrow it is, then.” he mumbled to himself.

The next day Beelzebub felt nervous. It had been a while since he talked to y/n and he had no idea how they were feeling right now. But he wouldn’t know unless he tried to find out, right?

So, after their classes, during lunch, he couldn’t take it anymore and tried looking for y/n. He was thinking they were maybe with Mammon, so he tried to find him. Though, when he did find his brother, he noticed he was alone.

“Lookin’ for Y/n?” Mammon asked. Beel almost slightly flinched at how sharp his tone was. It was clear that Mammon was angry at him for what he had done. Without saying a word he nodded.

“I think I saw them walkin’ somewhere with Asmo, towards his locker.” Beel nodded and quickly thanked his brother before leaving to find Y/n. He knew where Asmodeus’ locker was, or at least the area it was at so it wasn’t very difficult to find. When he found them a small smile played on his lips. However, as he took more and more steps forward, he saw that Asmo wasn’t the only one accompanying them. Solomon was there too. He had an arm wrapped around Y/n’s shoulder and laughed as he pressed a kiss to their cheek. Beel could feel his heart drop at the sight. He wasn’t expecting this at all and felt incredibly hurt.

Asmodeus somehow caught sight of his brother, and his eyes widened slightly when he saw his heartbroken standing there like a sad puppy who had just been kicked. Y/n and Solomon noticed their friend looking at something, so they turned their gaze into the direction he was facing. But before the two could see him, Beel quickly walked back.

“Asmo, is something wrong?” Y/n asked, their voice laced with concern. The demon was caught off guard by the question, not even realising he was staring but then smiled and nodded.

“Oh yes! I just suddenly remembered I forgot to close my purple nail polish jar in my room, I’m sure it’s all dried up now.”

“Oh that’s okay! How about we buy a new one after school? I have to get some stuff anyway. Solomon does too, right babe?” Y/n said and looked up at their boyfriend with a small smile. The boy nodded in agreement.

“Alright, sounds great!” Asmo nodded and smiled at the two. Soon his thoughts drifted back to his brother. While Asmodeus definitely did not think what he did was okay, he couldn’t help but feel bad for him. He was still his brother. Part of him wanted to check up on him but he felt like Beel probably needed time alone to process what he had seen.

In the meantime, Beelzebub was walking towards the cafeteria, shoulders hung low, gaze towards the ground and eyes filled with tears. Y/n had the right to move on, of course they did. He just wasn’t prepared to see it happening already. He felt like now there was no way of getting them back.

Of course Y/n would rather be with Solomon. He was a human just like them, they’d be able to live their regular life in their own world while also having a boyfriend. Of course they wouldn’t want a sinful demon like him. He decided to just give up. Maybe it was best for them both, or it was just best for Y/n. He wasn’t sure. But he knew they were happier with Solomon than with him. He saw a sparkle in their eyes, the one that had left when Y/n caught him cheating on them. Anyone that could make them that happy was worthy of being with them to Beel.

But if it was the right thing, why did it still hurt this much? The emptiness that he felt was bigger than any hunger he had felt in his entire life. But he had to accept it because at the end of the day, it was his own fault for making that horrible mistake.

Asmodeus

To any outsider, Asmo seemed completely fine, as if he wasn’t sad at all. But his brothers all knew it was the exact opposite. Asmodeus tried doing even more self care, went shopping even more than usual and spent an extra amount of times around succubi and witches. It was all to get Y/n off of his mind because as soon as soon as he would get to the house of Lamentation and had nothing to do, thoughts about them filled his head. Something in him wanted to find them and almost beg them to take him back, but there’s this other part of him that’s incredibly ashamed of himself.

And as mentioned before, his brothers could notice his change in mood. Though they condemned his actions, he was still their brother and they couldn’t  just ignore him. Of course Asmo was going to make some very stupid mistakes with heavy consequences, but he would learn from those.

So at one point Satan made the decision to talk to his brother about the problem that hadn’t been talked about just yet. Satan knew Asmo regretted what he did and wanted Y/n back and he also knew that his brother was stuck on what to do now.

“How have you been, Asmo?” Satan asked as he entered his brother’s room after having knocked on the door. The younger demon quickly forced a smile as he looked at his brother, hoping that he would fall for his trick. But knowing Satan, it wouldn’t be long before he noticed Asmo’s facade. Still, he wanted to try.

“I’ve been doing great Satan! Oh, I bought some new makeup and accessories today and some would look lovely on you! Wanna try them on?”

“That does sound nice, but I need to talk to you about something right now.” Asmodeus could feel himself sulking as he knew where this conversation was heading. He also was aware of the fact that avoiding it would be pointless, so he decided not to protest and just nodded.

“We’ve all been worried about you Asmo. Of course I do know how you are, but we can all tell that something is off.” Asmodeus bit his lip as he averted his gaze, his eyes falling on a shirt that seemed to have fallon the ground. And of course, it was Y/n’s… They had probably left it here once and forgot to bring it back.

His brother’s eyes followed the direction in which he was looking, and he quickly realised what the piece of clothing was.

“Hey, how about you bring it back to them and talk about what happened?” Satan proposed. Asmo shook his head immediately, not wanting to be confronted with his disgusting actions again. He was already ashamed of what he had done.

“Satan, they will never forgive me. I hurt them so badly even though I never meant to. There is no way that this will be fixed.” Satan sighed softly and shook his head at his brother's words.

“But hey, you’re Asmodeus, aren’t you? Who can resist you? Who can not love you? Has anyone truly hated you for a long time?” He edged on, knowing that Asmo needed little confidence boosts like this. He knew these would cheer him up eventually, it just took some time and patience.

“Well there was a witch one time…. no nevermind she forgave me after 100 years so it ended up totally fine.” His brother chuckled and nodded.

“See? And on top of that, humans have a shorter lifespan, so I think everything will be okay soon. Y/n definitely loved you while you two were together and I find it hard to imagine that they have lost all of their feelings for you by now.”  Satan could be right… After all, he was very smart, so he would not say something if he hadn’t thought about it or hadn’t put some logic to it. Perhaps he was right. Maybe trying to talk it out was a good idea. If they wouldn’t take him back, maybe they could still be at least friends. But first he had to find them of course.

“Do you happen to know if Y/n is here?” Asmo asked Satan, who pondered for a moment before replying.

“I think they went somewhere with Luke, Simeon and Mammon. They said they’d be back soon though.” Mammon too? That was an interesting combination. “Mammon went along because ‘a weak human and two angels aren’t safe here’” Asmo chuckled, yeah that does sound like Mammon and explains a lot.

“Well, I will be taking my leave now then. Tell me how it went later, okay?”

While Asmo waited for Y/n, he could slowly feel a slight feeling of anxiety creeping in. He hadn’t felt this way in a very long time. It scared him a little even. He always felt like he was in control in some way, since it was always people fawning over him, being nervous around him, but now it seemed to be the other way around. How could a mortal human have this influence on him? Maybe it was their presence, their uniqueness, he didn’t know. He couldn’t pinpoint what exactly it was.

However, he didn’t have more time to think about it now, because he heard the sound of a few voices in a conversation. Immediately his head perked up and he couldn’t help but smile when his eyes caught Y/n walking in his direction. That smile fell soon though, because then his gaze fell on the angel walking next to them. He was holding their hand as his eyes looked lovingly into theirs. He knew exactly what that look meant, and the fact that Y/n had a similar sparkle in their eyes said a lot.

Asmodeus felt defeated. He wasn’t expecting this and maybe that was why it hurt so much. The two radiated so much joy. It seemed like Y/n was completely healed from the pain Asmo had caused them. Soon his throat felt dry and his eyes quickly filled with tears. Before anyone noticed, Asmo quickly went to his room and locked the door before plopping down on his bed. He finally let out sobs which he tried to muffle by covering his hand with his mouth.

Why was he even crying? He was the one who hurt them. This was his fault, not theirs. He was the last person who was allowed to cry over this. But still, he couldn’t help but feel his heart crumble when he tried to process what he saw. They moved on. He messed up and now there was definitely no way that they were going to take him back. And he only had himself to blame for this mess.

#obey me x mc #obey me x reader #beelzebub x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x mc #asmodeus x mc #obey me scenarios #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me beelzebub #obey me asmodeus

[youwontlikethisblog]

I'm not a woman of my word lol

LMBO SCREW IT I'LL TALK ABOUT MORE THAN ONCE SCENE JUST DON'T EXPECT IT TO BE GOOD(honestly I want to binge watch the entire show but then see one thing and I'm like this deserves an entire post!)

Betty brings him his caldo and he gets in the way and takes it from her hands and thanks her. The phone rings and she rushes to her office and Mario mocks him by saying "Oh but she spoils you" Armando then turns to look at Betty's office like he realized that she is like that with him.

However the moment is ruined, remember again how when Mario told Armando that Nicolas was after their money even then Armando didn't want to continue with the plan but now that he hears Betty's conversation with Nicolas all of a sudden 'it's for the good for the company I must make her fall in love'. This clashes stupidly with the actions before.

"Ay Betty, I don't know if I woke up with my liver or brain because everything is still party, praty, point is I woke up with a pretty bad hangover."

Betty not once has gotten mad, showed annoyance or really indicated to Armando that she personally cares about him and his hangover as she tells him that the caldo is only because he needs to be on his best for the sake of the company's benefit.

Now Armando hears Betty upset with Nicolas over his drinking as she says:

"Ay no, Nicolas. Don't tell me you started to drink with him."

Nicolas goes on to say he is an easy prey to peer pressure and that the word no is not in his vocab that if she sees it floating around there to send it his way.

"I just don't like for you to go into those kinds of places where you spend it drinking." now Armando seems annoyed and Mario looks at him shocked at what he's hearing.

Armando and Mario have now first hand witnessed the dynamic of Nicolas and Betty in the work world. Nicolas informs Betty of the situation Eco Moda/Terra Moda is facing and Betty calls the shots. Just like Betty had told them two days before.

So it shouldn't be a cause of concern as now Betty proceeds to tell them exactly what went down, again showing that they are trustworthy.

I don't have to explain once more who is concerned and worry about who and what. *See the Betty, My Betty posts 1-3

Mario then tells Armando(After he[Mario] sent off a guilty Betty to get some paperwork from Marcela) that he doesn't like that Nicolas is becoming friends with the lawyers and he needs to prepare for a sober night with Betty.

Armando doesn't say anything.

Again, it could not be more clear who is actually distrusting in this situation.

Betty walks into Marcela's office and after she sees she's busy she goes off on a daydream, more like a day-nightmare as we see the penance of her guilty conscious accuse her in the form of Marcela.

As Betty returns to their offices Patty stops her and asks when she's getting her paycheck, to which Betty replies that she doesn't know but sometime that weekend and goes to Armando's office.

In there she gently shuts the door and in a low tone tells him that Marcela didn't have the papers. Armando now turns away from her and gives her his back, again this could show guilt but also anger(that she showed more concern over Nic being hungover than him) as he doesn't want to see her. Betty then proceeds to ask him if he's alright to which he replies that he has a hellish headache.

Betty tells him she'll get him some pain relief and picks up the tray of dishes to take with her. In this moment as Betty nears the door Patty opens the doors loudly and starts to yell.

Betty looks mad at Patty as she is yelling at Armando.

Why does she?

Betty has been very, extremely, attentive to Armando, more than the usual. She's taken notice of his demeanor, respected his evasiveness, spoken in a more hushed voice, gotten him food to get him to feel better, hasn't made much noise knowing that he's hungover and trying to keep his office peaceful and calm as well as instantly telling him she'd get him some relief for his headache but in an instant all of her efforts to keep him well are brought down by Patty who goes to at yell at him for her paycheck.

One: well she legit threw away all her work to keep Armando at peace

Two: she doesn't like that Patty is yelling at him and accusing her.

"[...] Betty when will it be possible to pay this...bleach blonde?"

Betty clears her throat and gently speaks "until this weekend. I had already talked to her about it, Sir."

More talking, Armando asks Betty to bring him what she promised and she tells him "right away" and leaves, Patty then pushes her away and Betty gently shuts his office doors.

She returns with the alka-seltzer and a glass of water for him and sets it in front of him. He once again keeps his eyes low.

Betty jokingly tells him that she warn him not too drink too much and now he's got a bad hangover and she laughs lightly. She then tells him she'll go get the paperwork from Marcela once more and asks if Mario has his too.

As she leaves the office Armando looks in pain because of his headache and again, guilty.

Betty stands outside Marcela's office door as she hear her and Patty talk bad about how she's dressed and how embarrassing it must've been for Armando to be seen with her the night before. They start to insult her and downplay Betty and she visibly looks upset but not in a sad way but angry.

This pushes Betty to not feel guilty over the entire situation(affair to be) with Armando.

This is her first mistake.

Her second being she is permitting herself to be involved and a willing participant in an affair with an engaged man. Armando isn't the only one to blame about this. They are both responsible and at fault for the dissolving of a (toxic) relationship and engagement. Did he make the first advances? Yes but at the end when the ball was in her court she willinging decided to throw her shot. This was her biggest sin, up to this point.

Betty is now talking about the sales report that Marcela gave her and the money they have to pay the banks. She then tells him that she'd like to talk to Mario regarding his reports. Armando has his shades, covering with his hand around his eyes, again he isn't able to make eye contact with Betty and doesn't want her to see him.

He then removes his shades and while explaining that Mario might be busy he tries to make eye contact but again looks away from her.

They both agree to wait for Mario and FINALLY after everything that has happened they make eye contact.

The previous times that Armando and Betty have had to wait for someone to call, or show up to the office Betty stared at Armando who would then catch her and tell her to get going or basically kicked her out of his office however this time it plays out differently.

They make eye contact for a minute or so.

While Armando is tense but staring at Betty she starts to get fidgety in her seat and says "I'll go wait in my office, Sir."

This time Betty is the one that removes herself and not Armando basically kicking her out or sending her away from him.

(I just realized I finished my cheese crackers and this makes me sad)

Armando then calls Mario to please get to his office that he can't be by himself with Betty anymore.

Now something happened with Sofia bla bla bla.

Mario shows up at Armando's office and asks if anything has happened, if she has exceeded herself with bla bla bla and Armando tells him that nothings happened.

"She talks about the banks, the payroll, about the loans, she talks about everything minus what we need to talk about." Armando (WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THE KISS WITH BETTY HE WANTS TO BE VULNERABLE WITH HER. Okay now that my irrational side has let lose let's get to the objective writer side.) displays a classic behavior of confusion and sadness.

"Which is?" Mario shrugs.

"Well what happened last night. Calderon, I don't know if this is right or wrong but I'm starting to feel really awful. I feel really uncomfortable when I'm by myself with her. The only thing she's scolded me for is this hellish hangover I've got."

Armando isn't scared that Betty is going to take advantage of him or cross lines. He feels uncomfortable because Betty won't talk about it, like it's not a big deal or important to her. He feels uncomfortable with the silence of it all and he's having to fill in the blanks.

Now Marcela and Sofia are talking about about Jasmine and Sofia getting fired.

The other day I was writing a draft for Armando's toxic behavior(I said I'd write a post dedicated to just his toxic/abusive tendencies) and hit this wall of realization. While to some degree I connect with Marcela being a victim of gaslighting, to another it's really hard to understand why she is in the relationship even though she shows no sign of insecurity or bad self-image/worth or threaten to stay. See when I was in this terrible toxic friendship I was gaslit to the point that their perception of me became mine I still remember the exact day I looked at myself in the mirror and broke down in tears calling myself ugly(I'm fine now lol) and I still remember the feelings I felt every time I was given the cold-shoulder and silent treatments as a form of punishment for calling the out on their lies while having witnesses(Now I wasn't a saint sometimes my anger would blind me and I'd say pretty mean stuff. This is why I call it a toxic friendship). To this day I feel shame for that and find ways to blame myself for it all. Gaslighting isn't just manipulation it is the warping of someone's reality and their understanding of the world surrounding them. It really messes you up.

So as much as I want to be understanding of Marcela and find excuses as to why she stays that don't have to do with her ego, I can't.

The thing is that when you are a victim of abuse you don't have an ego. You don't stay with the person because you believe they're the only person you'll ever love, no, you stay because you believe they are the only person who will ever love you and these are two very different mindsets.

In this episode you can see that. Marcela doesn't have bad self-image or self-worth. She thinks she's above the women that Armando sleeps with. She believes she's above Betty. She has a pretty big ego. She often places herself before anyone. She takes Armando's decisions as personal attacks which means she believes to be the center of his universe. All of these are characteristics of someone with a big ego. She doesn't compare herself to Armando's conquest but rather blames them for his affairs. They're the bad ones because they decided to sleep with him(yes they are to blame because they are aware of his relationship statues but so is Armando and she needs to hold that fool accountable as well) because Armando is just a fool who likes to shove it where he can, as long as they've got statues. She knows Armando has a strict palate for women and the fact the he is marrying her means she's the best of the best, even with affairs being involved.

I can go on and on about this which is why I'm dedicating a post to Marcela just about this(It's in my drafts. I need to watch the rest of the show to really understand her character. I don't just want to be like "Marcela is the only abuser" because she's not. ) Anyway this scene just reminded me of that because here she displays that boastful attitude as she tells Sofia to behave and have dignity regarding Jasmine working there and that she'll talk to Guti Guti regarding the cuartel being fired for standing with Sofia but that she'll accept Betty's resignation letter.

(Honestly watching Bertha eat Ruffles makes me crave them rn)

The ending of this episode is Marcela kissing Armando good-bye and telling him she'll wait for him at her apartment.

This wasn't a heavily emotional episode so there isn't much to breakdown however the small bits we do get move the plot forward and are details that are important to the coming episodes.

The one scene I am really looking forward to breaking down, that totally highlights this whole "Armando is in denial" plot is the one where he fights Roman and his friends.

But until then I'll see y'all next time!

#armando mendoza #don armando #armando ysblf #analysis of ysblf #betty #beatriz pinzon solano #betty pinzón solano #betty ysblf #betty la fea #yo soy betty la fea #marcela valencia #mario calderon #nicolas mora #i need to go to sleep

[kinsey3furry300]

A very confused Star Wars Fan desperately tries to justify their belief that “Caravan of Courage” shows the way forward for the franchise. No, really.

Ever since I was a little kid, I’ve loved Star Wars. And I mean, all of it. The books, the games, the Lego, the spin-offs: I even enjoy the Holiday Special in a The Room so-bad-you-just-need-to-see-it sort of way.  But particularly the films. But here is when we run into the big problem: I’m just the wrong age. The original trilogy launched before I was born, the prequel trilogy hit cinemas when I was already a teen and while I went and saw them and enjoyed them, I was at that age where I was self-conscious about seeing a “kids” film, and hyper-aware of how silly and cringy those films were in parts. So my indoctrination, my inoculation with the Star Wars bug didn’t happen in the cinema, and it didn’t happen with any of the main franchise works. It happened on home video, on a skiing trip in the French Alps in the early 90’s. I’d have been about 6, and this was the first time I’d ever been abroad other than to see relatives in Ireland.  And I loved it: to this day I love skiing, but more than that, I have very, very fond childhood memories of this trip. This was shortly before I lost my biological mother to cancer, she’d have received her diagnosis just after we got back from the trip. This was when my younger sister stopped being an annoying screaming thing and became and became an actual person I could talk and play and share ideas with, this was before the combination my mothers long illness and my father having just launched his own IT start up meant I didn’t see him or her any more, despite the fact they were in the same house as me. This was this wonderful, nostalgic child-hood bubble when my family was intact, and nothing could ever go wrong. I skied all day with mum and dad, and would come back to the chalet in the evening. It was an English speaking chalet, I met my first real-life American there, and having grown up in the 90’s in the UK nothing was cooler than making friends with an actual American my own age. He had a hulk Hogan action figure with springs in the legs so if you put him on a hard surface and punched his head down, when you let go he’d jump really high in the air. We used to play with it together in the bath, back in that weird 90’s time-bubble when it was possible to convince two sets of parents that this kid you’d just met was you best friend in the world and of course shared bath time was, somehow, normal and appropriate. And fresh from bath time, tired from the day, the parents would give us some hot coco, dump us kids in front of the tv and grab the first shitty low-budget VHS they could find to keep us distracted while they went to the bar. In this particular time, in this particular place, that shitty low budget cartoon was the  complete set of the 1985 Lucasfilm/ABC Ewoks cartoon, plus the two spin off movies, and to this day that cheap, kitschy, kind of bad series has a special warm and cosy place in my heart. I remember being enthralled by the world, in love with the characters, applied by the bad guys and the injustice they caused (to this day I’m still irate about that time Wicket lost his set of beads documenting his progress towards becoming a full warrior and the older Ewoks basically said, tough, you need to re-earn all those merit badges from scratch. This struck me as exactly the sort of bullshit an adult would pull, and pissed me off) and on tenterhooks about what would happen to the characters.

It was also, by a coincidence, the first ever Star Wars media I was exposed to, and the above combination of events probably explains a lot about me.

So I was surprised, the other day, when scrolling Disney+, to find they’d added Caravan of Courage AND Battle for Endor to the roster in my region. Surely Disney wouldn’t want their slick, cool brand associated with this old trash? Surely there could be no place for this in the post-Mandalorian Star Wars cannon? Surely this is a horrible mistake some intern made, right?

Unless…. What if I’ve miss-remembered? What if it’s not just rose-tinted nostalgia goggles, and it’s, in fact, secretly really, really good?

I rushed to my comfy chair, got a blanket, dimmed the lights, made some coco (with rum in it, because why the hell not?) and sat down to re-examine this lost gem.

And wow: it’s every bit as shit as you’d expect.

It has aged exactly as poorly as you’d expect a cheap, mid 80’s direct to video spin-off to age. Caravan of Courage? More like Caravan of Garbage, am I right?

And yet… I still enjoyed every moment.

And it was sitting there, in my pyjamas, watching a cheaply made direct to video cash-grab from just before I was born, seeing it again for the first time in nearly 30 years, and I realised something.

It doesn’t really matter if this film is bad, so long as I enjoy it. And if it doesn’t really mater if this is bad, then I, like many Star Wars fans, wasted a huge amount of time and emotional effort on being butthurt about stuff I didn’t like about the Rise of Skywalker and it’s ilk. Because somewhere, right now, a tired and frustrated parent is putting Disney+ on to keep their kids quiet for two hours. And they won’t think too hard about what they put on, so long as it keeps little Timmy busy for a bit. Somewhere, right now, a kid is watching Rise of Skywalker, and it’s the first Star Wars media they’ve ever seen.

And that’s okay. Because we don’t know what that kids home life is like. We don’t know if it’s good or bad. Maybe it’s great, maybe it’s about to take a dramatic plunge like mine did, and this moment here will be the cosy, warm memory they look back on in 30 years time, and that’s beautiful.  They’re getting introduced to a fun, wonderful fantasy world that could be with them all their lives, through good times and bad, and as fans we should be happy about that.

Star Wars will never, die: it’s too darn profitable, Disney will never let it. And while I hope they learn from their mistakes and make sure every future Star Wars is a timeless gem of story-telling, statistically, if you keep making enough films, some of them will be bad. And while I’d like them all to be great, it’s still okay if they’re bad.

Because nothing can take away my memories of that week in that chalet. Nothing can take-away my memories of when they put the original trilogy on in cinemas for the special edition and I had my jaw hit the floor with how good it was on the big screen, not knowing or caring who shot first. Nothing can take away you memories of the Original Trilogy, the Prequels, or the Clone Wars. Nothing can tarnish the bits of the sequil trilogy that you like, and there are good bits in there.

But wait, what about continuity? What about the sacred, perfect written time-line that used to exist?

Well, what about it? Have you seen any other big, epic fantasy universe before? They’re all a mess. A work of fiction, particularly fantasy, can be extensive, or tightly written, but not both. Harry Potter is only seven books, and the last two feel, tonally, like they’re from an entirely different series. I love them, but the grim-dark kicked in so fast you’ll get whiplash. The Hobbit is a perfect written self-contained novel, and LOTR is *The* big boy high-fantasy trilogy: fast forward 50 years, and Christopher Tolkien is desperately squeezing every last drop of money out of his father’s corpse by finishing and publishing every unfinished note JRR ever wrote right down to his shopping lists. Even Dune goes of the rails with sequels. I can only think of four fantasy works that are both extensive and consistently tightly written, Song of Ice and Fire, Wheel of Time, Malazan: Book of the Fallen and Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere universe. And even then, the prequels and spin-offs mess with the timelines: the Dunk and Egg novella’s change some character’s canonical ages and timelines, Wheel of Time was going slowly off the rails even before the Jordan died, Forge of Darkness made what was a good metaphor for the creation of it’s world into a literal war deep in the past, and Sanderson’s first Novel Elantris got a re-write to bring it more in line with the rest of the shared universe. The MCU, oft held up as the modern example of tightly planned, well thought out ongoing storytelling, is a lie: it was never as pre-planned out as Disney wants us to think; the first Iron Man, apparently, barely had a script, with Downey ad-lib-ing most of his scenes. None of the MCU films are direct sequels to each-other other than Infinity war and Endgame. There are three Iron Man films, and Three Thor films, and none continue an ongoing story line across multiple films, and the Cap films barely continue an arc, but only where Cap’s relationship with Natasha and Bucky is involved.  Much like these, Star War’s cannon is a complete, nightmarish, confusing, tangled, illogical mess. And it has been since 1984, as Caravan of Courage proves. It was never consistent and well planned.

And that’s okay.

I used to care about plot holes. I used to care about which works were cannon in Star Wars lore. I’m over that now. I’m happy to imagine the books, films and games not as a blow-by-blow historical account of a galaxy far far away, but as campfire stories from within this fun, imaginative world that we’re all invited to listen to. Stories that are in-universe myth and folklore, that we can all snuggle up and listen to while drinking highly alcoholic rum and remembering better times, knowing that wherever the future throws at us, no matter how the world goes to hell around us, we’ll still have the memories, and the ability to make our own new stories in the wonderful Star Wars world we all share.

And that’s okay. No, more than that: that’s beautiful.

Also Star Wars is completely unambiguous on the fact we’re allowed to kill fascists no matter how many times they keep coming back with a new logo, so that’s timely I guess.

So, there’s my hot take two-years after everyone else stopped caring about this stuff, as per bloody usual. Tell me why I’m wrong below, and does anyone else have any truly awful spin-off shows that they kind of have a nostalgic soft spot for?

#star wars #ewoks #caravan of courage #Star wars universe #epic fantasy #MCU #tolkien #LOTR #malazan #song of ice and fire #wheel of time #brandon sanderson #Cosmere #dune #late opinions delivered badly #i'm wrong and i know it #seriously hot coco with rum #spin off #bad spin off #so bad it's good #I love the ewoks cartoon #but you don't have to thats okay too

[joheun-saram]

“If this movie is scary, I’m breaking up with you.” (jhs)

Summary- Hoseok loses a bet and now has to endure watching your favourite horror movie.

word count- 1.3k

pairing- boyfriend!Hoseok x Reader

rating- PG-13

genre- fluff

warnings- none! just eluding to smut

a.n- Part of my drabbles for @btsholidaybingo​, ticking off the horror movies tile! Let me know if you know which movie they’re watching - this is definitely one of my favourite movies haha. I’ll be posting these every week or so as I get them done. Check out the other drabbles here :)

As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask! 💌

-

Your apartment was completely dark, curtains drawn to keep any light out as you sat on the couch cuddling your boyfriend. The only light came from the screen of the obscenely large television hung on the wall opposite you and ominous music filled the room. Unlike most Halloween nights Hoseok and you had spent together, you were both dressed in sweats, your head on his shoulder as he draped his arm around you, eyes fixated on the movie playing on the screen. For once you were kind of glad Halloween fell on a weekday, so you could save your costumes and shenanigans for later in the week and just relax.

“I swear to god Y/N if this movie is scary, I’m breaking up with you.” He says jumping as the title of the movie comes up, his arm around you tightening tenfold and his head tensing where it rests on top of yours.

“It’s not scary, it’s meant to be like a conspiracy thriller type. Relax babe,” you say almost absent-mindedly as you watch the group of friends in the movie load up their car to embark on their vacation to a cabin in the woods. You pull the blanket over the two of you, gently squeezing Hoseok’s thigh comfortingly. You knew your boyfriend was a big baby when it came to horror movies so you hoped this little white lie would calm him down. It works for all of three scenes before Hoseok moves his arm from around you flailing and covering his eyes.

“Oh my god! Why are they going in the basement? PEOPLE DIE IN THE BASEMENT!” He says as he watches the film through the cracks in his fingers. 

“Relax, I’ve seen it before it’s not scary.” You lean into him as you soothingly rub his back, trying to hide the smile that overtakes your features.

“If you’ve seen it before, why are we watching it?” Hoseok is half looking at the screen and half at you. Even though he’s scared shitless, he would be lying if he wasn’t intrigued by the film on the screen. He would never admit it to you of course, but he was invested in the plot, waiting to see which monsters the group would unleash onto themselves.

“Because you lost the bet and you said I could pick whatever.” You say smugly as you sit up straighter to reach for the bowl of candy on your coffee table. Hoseok and you had moved into this apartment last month, taking the first big step in your relationship, and while celebrating your house warming, you had made a friendly bet. A bet to see if one of your friends would throw up if you provided all the drinks you could. Hoseok being the ever optimistic and trusting friend insisted that your friends would never go that wild in your new home, but you knew your friends and won the bet when Jimin vomited in the plant that he had brought as a present for the two of you earlier that evening. 

“I hate you so much. ARE THOSE PSYCHO ZOMBIES?!” He jumped, pulling his feet onto the couch and hugging his knees as the family of zombie murderers on the screen started to unleash hell on the group of unsuspecting college students. You couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed at your boyfriend quivering next to you as you bit into your snickers bar, ignoring the glare he threw at you.

“Everyone’s dying. Why is everyone dying? We aren’t even half way through!” He yelled at the screen as yet another character met their gruesome demise. You had to admit it, when you first planned to show Hoseok this movie, you didn’t think it would be this fun. You loved watching him squirm and yell. What did that say about you, you thought smiling as you watched his face turn pale at the events taking place on the television.

“DID THAT UNICORN JUST MURDER THE GUY?! That’s it. I’m done.” He paused the movie, fixing you with a glare. This was your favourite scene. Just watching a magical happy creature stab someone made you laugh. In your opinion this movie was more of a comedy than horror.

“Babe it’s almost -”

“No, don't babe me. This is so scary, we’re breaking up.” Hoseok folded his arms on his chest as he looked at you, shaking his head.

“Sure I guess if you want. You can leave, I’ll drop off your stuff tomorrow.” You sighed mockingly, diving into the bowl for another mini candy bar.

“What? You’re gonna show me that horror movie and then kick me out?!” He yelled in disbelief, grabbing your shoulder to shake you dramatically.

“You’re the one who wants to break up.” You shrugged the best you could still locked in his iron grip, trying extremely hard to school your face into a neutral expression.

“You’re cruel. So cruel.” He pulled you closer, nuzzling his face in your neck as his arms tightened around your waist. You could feel his pout against your neck as he whined.

“I’m cruel? You just broke up with me!” You gasp dramatically as you playfully smack his shoulder.

“Baby you know I would never break up with you.” He starts kissing your neck as he leans over you making you lie against the couch, his hands reaching under your sweater to feel the soft skin of your stomach.

“You’re just saying that because you’re too scared to sleep by yourself tonight.” You try to ignore the effect his kisses have against your neck as you try not to moan at his ministrations. Damn, he really knows how to work you.

“Tonight and every night. My hero Y/N please protect me!” He sits up on his elbows to capture your face between his hands and rain kisses on your face, making sure they are obnoxiously loud as you groan at the affection.

“You are so annoying, get off me!” You push him off as he clings on to you, trying not to laugh as you almost fall off the couch in an effort to sit up.

“Nah-uh! I love you and I’ll never stop smothering you with my love!” He pulls you into his lap, arms around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your hair kissing wherever his lips land, finally breaking your facade as you burst out in giggles. 

“Pay attention to the ending, it’s good!” Whining, you unpause the film, the sounds of the characters screaming bloody murder filling the room.

“Nah… wanna pay attention to you instead.” Hoseok’s voice is low as his actions turn more purposeful, his lips sucking on your neck leaving behind pink spots that he soothes with his tongue. You moan as you feel one of his hands travel from your waist to under your waistband, teasing you while he nips your ear.

“But it’s my favourite movie!”

“Fine, baby.” He relents, pulling his hand out of your pants as he rests his chin on your shoulder to watch the end of the movie, getting more disappointed as the main characters decide to end the world. “Wait so the whole world ends? This is your favourite movie? You are so depressing, jesus!”

“Rude! You don’t see me complaining about watching Step Up like a million times!” You huff as you cross your arms.

“Correction. It’s Step Up 2, actually.” He smirks as you roll your eyes at him, before picking you up, making you yelp and wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the bedroom. Laying you on the bed he kisses you deeply, as you pull him impossibly close, relishing his lips - a taste you will never get tired of. “Now I think it’s time for my reward for putting up with that awful movie.”

#bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #btsholidaybingo #hoseok fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok fluff #jhope imagines #jhope x reader #jhope fluff #boyfriend hoseok #thebtswritersclub

[timextoxhajima]

Playlist Feels

Member: L E E J U Y E O N

Genre: idk anymore, jealous boyfriend juyeon, fluff?? idk idk idk intense staring idk idk can you feel my breakdown through this LOL :D (i WILL cry writing this)

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: there was absolutely NO WAY i could’ve gone to sleep knowing i just spent the last 4 posts going off about juyeon because it’s virtually impossible to ignore the fact that he’s a REAL person living in the SAME era as us like, aren’t we the luckiest people in the world UGH

p.s: requested? NOPE. 

“down for your love”

“난 늘 목말라 babe”

(this line literally translates to: I’m always thirsty babe)

(i did NOT know what this song was about until i searched up the lyrics I DID NOT EXPECT THIS TURN OF EVENTS LOLOLOL)

you hear the music begin in the earpiece stuck in your left ear. your head naturally jerks on beat and shifts along with the melody, your dance partner dragging his finger along your arm and leans into your ear. 

the crowd cheers and ‘hoots’ at the start, and you could hear jacob and kevin’s excessive screaming at the sight. 

you wanted to smile and bask in the attention, but the music blasting in your earpiece stops you and your muscle memory takes over. 

you’ve been preparing for this stage for so long; for the past three months in fact. you were in the school’s dance crew which was split into a dance-cover half and a self-producing half. 

your dance partner snakes his arm around your waist, turning you around and stroking your hair ever so gently. your gaze was sharp as your laid your eyes on his jawline and you caress his neck.

“sexy mama!” you hear kevin yell at the top of his voice as you turn around and allow the music to guide your body across the stage with your dance partner’s hands still all over you. 

other students were beginning to gather around, and the sudden realisation that you were performing in front of a potentially large audience of university students was so difficult to believe for some strange reason. 

what you don’t notice though, was your boyfriend being exceptionally quiet. he and his crew were standing at the base of the stage that was set up in the middle of the concourse. despite jacob, kevin and the other boys hyping the hell out of your performance, his lips were sealed shut and he stood still like a statue.

lee juyeon was fuming.

“yah hyung, it’s just a performance,” eric runs over to juyeon and pouts, hugging his torso. he finds it difficult to perform the act of affection when juyeon has his arms crossed extremely tight across his chest. 

but you were immersed in your own world on stage. 

while your boyfriend was in the self-producing half of the dance crew alongside your best friends kevin and jacob, you were stuck in the dance-cover part because it was undeniable that the 11 boys were all too talented to be in the same half as you. 

this was your first performance as part of the large dance crew, so everybody knew very well how much effort you’ve invested in it, how much time you’ve spent in the practise room with your dance partner. 

all you wanted to do was to show your best and deliver a performance you’ve worked so hard for, not caring about the extent of intimacy the performance was supposed to display. if you wanted to show a great performance, then acting and professionalism were the two key ingredients. 

that was what juyeon told you anyway. 

the music finally comes to an end, and you finish by wrapping your arms around hyunjun, allowing him to completely hide you from the audience standing at the the bottom of the stage. 

the other members of your crew and the boys erupt in loud cheers, signalling for you and hyunjun to turn and bow to the audience. you run off stage and watch as the boys head onto stage from the other side.

you were so excited to watch juyeon perform, because the last time you watched him dance, it was like walking into a whole new dimension. it was so difficult to choose only one member of his crew to watch because all they did was enhance each other’s abilities and talents. 

hyunjun grabs you a chair and a bottle, opening one for himself as he stands next to you. working on that intimate dance cover not only brought the two of you closer, but it made you feel like you gained a new best friend. 

naturally, you shift yourself so your butt only occupied half the space of the seat, and you pat on the empty half, inviting hyunjun to share the space with you. he looks at you with wide, questioning eyes, before you grab his arm and pull him down, forcing him to seat half his butt on it too. 

you watch carefully as the 11 boys on stage get into position, and you feel a surge of overwhelming pride when you see a ton of girls start to gather around. phones and cameras were out and about, and you catch a glimpse of a few girls focusing their views on your boyfriend. 

you smile widely, and hyunjun elbows you in the side.

“i know you’re proud but you don’t have to make it so obvious,” he teased, trying to stifle a laugh as he raised a brow at you. you pout playfully, elbowing him a little harder. 

the song starts and juyeon’s head jerks along with the starting beats. usually he’d be looking dead straight, killing all his fangirls in the process.

but this time round, though he was facing straight ahead, his eyes were off axis and staring straight at you. 

you get goosebumps, letting a prolonged “ohhhhhhhhhh” escape between your lips. you couldn’t help yourself as your face lights up at the eye contact, and the sight of all his fangirls dying around you was so gratifying. 

“yah!” hyunjun burst out into giggles, punching your arm. “you don’t have to make it so obvious! else his fangirls would totally swamp you!”

you laugh out loud, feeling your face burn up. there was absolutely nothing in the world that could make you jealous, not when you knew that juyeon’s strength in performance was his stage presence and his eyes. he was bound to get his own fanclub, you were just one of the lucky fangirls who ended up dating him. 

but over time, your aggressive screaming over the handsome boy faded into admiration, and he had to come to terms with the fact that it was terribly hard to make you jealous. you trusted him completely, so there was absolutely no reason for you to feel jealous despite all the girls drooling over him all the time. 

throughout the performance, juyeon shoots you looks and glares that sent chills down your spine, and with every passing moment, hyunjun gradually got annoyed with you spitting out “ooooooooh”s and “ahhhhh”s, even when juyeon wasn’t center.

“ah, can you shut up?” hyunjun snickers, pulling you into a headlock and ruffling your hair.

“또 다른 날 깨우는 밤”

you hear his voice through the sound system, and the only thing that comes to mind was: “wah, how long did they take to get this choreography down?”

hyunjun releases you upon processing the question, his smile never once leaving his face. both of you were so satisfied with the performance you gave, it was almost impossible to wipe the smiles off your faces. 

“i don’t know, there’s a reason why i’m in this half of the dance crew,” hyunjun snorts. before you could say anything else, two female students come up to hyunjun and asks for a selfie. 

you smirk at him, for a moment forgetting that your man was giving his all on the stage. 

the music stops and the now nearly all-girls audience begins screaming. the sharp, rumbling noise startles you, and you instinctively cover both your ears while hyunjun thanks the two girls who now each have a picture with him. 

“WHOO! SICK STUFF!” you and hyunjun stand up, throwing fists into the air and screaming all the names of the boys on stage. your eyes naturally find juyeon, who was now smiling at the audience. 

but strangely, his eyes didn’t look satisfied. it was so easy to read juyeon sometimes, you found it adorable.

you and hyunjun wait patiently by the chair you were just sharing as the boys come down and gather around you while the next group heads on stage. you give nearly all of them tight hugs, kevin and jacob especially giving you compliments on how believable your performance was with hyunjun.

“oh, you should’ve seen juyeon hyung’s face when hyunjun was nearly about to kiss your ear,” eric giggles with mischief and you laugh it off by gently pushing him backwards. you look at juyeon, who was circling the group and walking towards you.

“you did so well!” you exclaimed, throwing both arms in the air and over his shoulders. you had to tip-toe, thanks to his taller-than average height.

hyunjun grins at the other boys, giving them shoulder bumps and fist bumps while juyeon pats your head with a lack of emotion. but since you couldn’t see his face while you had your face in his chest, you don’t notice it. 

the crew spends the rest of the performance time screaming and hyping up whoever was on stage. you let sangyeon and hyunjae share the lone chair, while you stand between juyeon and hyunjun. 

you were so engrossed in the group that was performing on stage, all you did was yell and scream alongside hyunjun and kevin and jacob, never once picking up on juyeon being silent the entire time. 

the performance period ends, and everybody congratulates each other for the impressive performances that required both time and effort in the last few months. 

you wave goodbye to hyunjun and the other boys, juyeon following closely behind you as the you leave in the opposite direction from the boys.

“you were so good on stage, do you know that?” you grin widely, naturally wrapping your arm around his. he smiles emptily at you, his ends of his hair-sprayed blue hair sticking to his forehead due to the sweat. 

you step back and admired him, who was still in his white and black outfit for the performance. you completely forget that you were also still in your slightly provocative outfit from your performance with hyunjun.

“yah... they really did it this time with that low-ass v-neck, huh?” you smirk at him, playfully pulling on the edge of his collar that dipped down so low between his pectorals. 

“what about you and hyunjun?” he laughs, but it wasn’t a laugh you heard often. you pick up on it, but you try not to show it on your face. “they also really ‘did it this time’ with your all-black outfit. why’d you agree to let them put you in a tube top and leggings?”

you raise your eyebrows in surprise, and a smile of disbelief creeps up on your lips. you burst into giggles, grabbing his arm and interlocking your fingers with his.

“awww, is lee juyeon jealous?” you start to poke his upper arm and his chest where the v-neck was. “i let them dress me like this because of the performance! how were we going to sell that if we were dressed in pajamas?” 

“no, but don’t you think hyunjun was too close to you all the time? i mean, if you were in a bar and you simply closed all the gaps between the both of you, it’ll totally look like you two were hooking up,” juyeon looks down at you, a tiny pitiful smile left on his lips. 

you couldn’t help but to laugh again, nearly doubling over from the effort it took you to stop laughing. 

“you were the one who told me that acting and being professional was the most important ingredient of a performance!” you were so engrossed in making your point, you don’t realise you were already at the doorstep of his room where he stayed. yours was just a few floors above.

thank god the dorm building you were staying in was close to where all the events happened. 

juyeon glares at you while he pulls out his room key, and you do nothing but shake and twist on the spot. 

juyeon finally gets the door open and you rush in before him, throwing your bag on the floor, wanting to collapse on the ground because you were just so satisfied.

you turn around, wanting to invite juyeon to sit with you on the floor and do nothing but talk about the performance.

but you freeze with a desire to laugh on the inside when you see the juyeon you only recognised on stage closing the door behind him.

a laugh crawls along your throat and you purse your lips, trying your best not to break out into a giggling frenzy. 

“earth to lee juyeon?” you wave your hand loosely in front of him, but his eyes were looking at you like he did during the performance. it sent chills down your spine and you suddenly feel like you were one of his fangirls again, never mind the fact that you were actually dating him.

“uh... is anything... wrong?” you slowly start to back up, realising that juyeon’s completely lost his composure. juyeon doesn’t say a single word, but his eyes scream so many things that you had trouble reading him. 

you suddenly remember how powerful he was on stage, and on top of that, the fact that he knew how you felt seeing him on stage. 

“isn’t this a little unfair--” your voice gets stuck in your throat once you feel your back hit the cold, hard wall of his room. “you’re using your stage eyes and it’s unfair because you know i can’t handle them-- hnnng--”

you whine and turn away, feeling your heart mercilessly picking up its pace while juyeon traps you between both his arms. 

“that’s exactly my point,” his voice was low and rumbled through the air between you. you wince at the sensation of his breath on your ear. suddenly, your provocative outfit doesn’t do anything to feed your confidence. it’s almost like your stage self had completely combusted and disappeared off the face of earth, because you were face-to-face with juyeon. 

“i know i told you that those two things were important for a performance but i never expected you to go all out with them, especially with a provocative one.”

you lick your lips, still wanting to laugh from embarrassment. you were a mixture of intimidated and mischief, but right now, juyeon caging you was doing nothing to fuel your mischievous self. instead, it was completely killing it. 

“does that mean i can’t do anymore provocative performances anymore?” you finally gather the courage to look at him straight in the eye. though his eyes were now dark and piercing, he was still your boyfriend after all.

you wait patiently for him to respond, but all he does is crash his lips onto yours without warning.

you feel the heat from him radiate into your chest and stomach, and his hands were now on your bare waist where your tube top doesn’t cover. 

“you can still do provocative performances--” he huffs through kisses. “but you either do them with me, or you promise me you’ll do nothing that looks like a discount hook-up session.”

you laugh into the kiss, feeling his stage self slowly disappear as the kisses become lighter. 

“oh, i’ll gladly do a provocative performance with you, and you know what?” you pull away, brushing his hair aside and noticing your lipstick smudged on his. 

“i’ll gladly do one without an audience.”

#timetohajima #timetohajima playlist feels #whoa had to stop myself there #i was contemplating if i should include light smut content #but i couldn't really see juyeon doing anything remotely dirty #idk #lee juyeon #the boyz #the boyz juyeon #the boyz lee juyeon #lee juyeon fanfic #lee juyeon one shot #idk is this an au? #fluff #jealous juyeon #boyfriend juyeon #aaaaaaaaaaaa

[starrynite7114]

Misconstrued: Part 2

A/N: Good evening my lovelies! I was going to post this last night, but it became too late when I got home. Hopefully you all will enjoy this one! Snapshots and another request will be posted after this! Hope you all will enjoy the update as much as you liked the first one! 

Anon:  I don't know if this is too specific but could you do something about Angel ruining a date and later admits it because he loves them and then they have some angry smut and late night fluff

Word Count: 7317

Masterlist

Tag List: @iambabyharry​ : @justahopelessssromantic​ : @carlaangel86​ : @marvelmaree​ : @mrsamaroevans​ : @ifoundmyhappythought​: @woahitslucyylu​ : @cind-in-real-life​ : @briannab1234​ : @fairygardenss​ : @gemini0410​ : @everyhowlmarksthedead​ : @losolvidad0s​ : @whyisgmora​ : @comasi-world​ : @xserenax-13​ : @chibsytelford

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know! If I forgot to add you, I’m so sorry!

Ever since your date two weeks ago, Angel has not been around you as much. Whenever you were around the clubhouse, EZ was your constant companion and if it veered from the norm, it would be Coco or Gilly. From time to time, you hung out with Riz. It was always fun to exchange information about hair care products with Riz. It was ridiculous just how nice his hair was.

But you missed Angel. 

You’re not sure why he avoided you like the plague, but you figured it had something to do with the date and how you confessed your feelings for him. You appreciated the distance cause maybe you can resume the friendship between you two. He would be pleasant with you, but he wouldn’t stay around like he usually did. 

And it was fucking hard for Angel.

He tried his best to stay away from you. It would become difficult at times. He missed hearing your ridiculous ass stories about car owners and how much their egos reflected on their cars. He missed hearing you babble about the newest recipe you made for yourself and how you couldn’t wait to share it with him. 

It broke him when you would come by the scrapyard looking for him. He would send Ezekiel to deal with you.

=================

“Come on Angel, don’t be a douche, just go talk to her.” EZ snapped. He was so annoyed by this whole situation. This had nothing to do with sponsor and prospect. This was between brothers and EZ was going to strangle Angel soon.

“Ezekiel, I’m busy, just talk to her. I can’t play hard to get if I’m readily available.” Angel argued. 

“You’re such a fucking idiot.” EZ walked out of the clubhouse to meet with you. Chucky had informed them that you were at the front office, asking for Angel as you had brought him something.

Angel waited for EZ to come, slightly anxious. He should stop playing this game, he fucking knew that, but he was already invested, he had to follow through.

EZ came into the office and found you sitting down, with a tupperware in your lap, and your right knee shaking away. He noticed it was something you did without noticing and from Angel told him, it was due to you becoming anxious. Angel was such a pain, the fact he was doing this to you made him that more annoying.

“Hey,” EZ greeted you.

You looked up at him and he saw the deflated look on your face that you quickly tried to mask. “Hey Ezekiel.” You greeted him. “Angel isn’t around?”

“He’s working on something, can’t pull him away, you know him. Once you distract him once, he’ll never get back to it.” EZ attempted to joke with you, but you just gave him a tight smile.

“I made him cookies, some sort of peace offering.” You extended the container towards EZ. 

EZ gave you a small smile and nodded his head. “There’s no need for a peace offering, Angel isn’t mad at you.”

“Yeah?” You stood up. “Doesn’t feel like it. I’ll see you later boy scout.” You left before EZ could even say anything else. 

EZ shook his head, cussing his brother’s name under his breath. He made his way back to the clubhouse, debating if he should just keep the cookies to himself. Angel didn’t deserve these cookies, especially with the way he was making you feel. 

“Here, you douchebag.” Ezekiel placed the Tupperware in front of Angel, who was sitting in the clubhouse while EZ spoke with you at the scrapyard.

“What’s this?” Angel opened the Tupperware and it was your infamous cookies that he could devour without a problem on his own. They were addicting. They were white chocolate macadamia. “Fuck.” His mouth watered.

“You know this is really fucked up. She thinks you fucking hate her now.” EZ scolded his older brother. “This is a stupid game Angel, just tell her what’s going on.”

“I did, she brushed me off. I can’t be the only one putting in some effort.”

EZ rolled his eyes. “God, you’re so fucking stubborn.” EZ stood up. “She brought those as a peace offering. She knew how much you love those cookies and that maybe now you’d speak to her like before.”

Angel remained quiet, eating the cookie as EZ watched him.

“You don’t deserve those cookies with the way you’ve been acting towards her.” EZ hissed as he walked away. He paused by the door and turned around, grabbing the tupperware from Angel. “You don’t deserve these cookies.”

“Hey! Ezekiel!” Angel chased after EZ.

After that day, you kept trying to leave Angel food, but EZ was always there to intercept. It got tiring for you that Angel kept avoiding you, so you decided to give him his space. The excuses were lame and EZ knew that, but he tried to cover for his brother. 

So you started giving EZ the things you were supposed to give Angel. 

The one time you happened to run into Angel, he wasn’t exactly happy about your choice.

“Hey, shocking you’re here, is EZ here?” You asked Angel, trying to keep your focus. Angel was currently shirtless, wiping off all the sweat dripping down his body. You’re thankful that the sun was hitting your glasses so you could squint and not truly see Angel’s ridiculous body.

“Ezekiel? Why the fuck are you looking for him? You need someone to go with you?” Angel was avoiding you, but if he knew no one could be with you, he would go.

“No, I brought him food for lunch.” You held up the plastic you were holding. 

“What do you mean they’re for EZ?” Angel noticed that you stopped dropping stuff off from him, or maybe his little brother had decided to keep things for himself. 

“Yeah well, you’ve made it very clear you don’t want anything, so I don’t want to push myself onto you.” You placed the food on the picnic table. “Can you just give it to him? I gotta get back to the shop.”

“Hey, why won’t you and I grab lunch? I’m sure you haven’t eaten.” Angel was starting to see that maybe Gilly’s way was not working. He didn’t want to keep pushing you away.

“It’s okay, I have work to do, I just came to drop this off for EZ.” You slipped back inside your car, leaving the yard. 

Angel cussed under his breath. EZ came out from the clubhouse, giving him a questioning look?

“Was that Y/N?” EZ questioned.

“Yeah, you making moves on my girl?” Angel knew it sounded stupid, especially how he saw the expression on EZ’s face change. 

“You fucking serious right now?” EZ demanded. “You’re the one playing this stupid game.” 

“Fuck you Ezekiel.”

“Yeah, well you can go fuck yourself Angel.”

=================

Currently you were getting ready for your second date with Damien. You didn’t tell anyone at the club where your second date would be or that there was going to be a second date. All you wanted to do was enjoy the night with Damien and truly get to know him. 

You needed to know if there was a spark, to know if this was going to be worth it. If not, you were definitely staying away from anyone under the club’s influence.

You heard a knock on your door and opened it, the smile on your face slightly faded when you saw Angel on the other side. 

“Hey.” You greeted him. “What’s up?”

“Can I come in?” 

You opened your door a little wider and stepped aside to let Angel in. He scanned the room making you roll your eyes. 

“Who told you I have a date tonight?”

Angel chuckled. “Not important, Damien warrants a second date?”

Angel broke his deal with Gilly today after EZ overheard your plans for a second date. He couldn’t let you go on that date, even if he’s been MIA lately.

“Why do you care? You’ve literally avoided me for the last two weeks Angel, you don’t have a club hang-around to stroke your ego tonight?” That was a low blow, but Angel needed to know that he wasn’t going to always have the upper hand.

“You jealous?” Angel smirked.

You were surprised by his question and you opened your mouth to reply no, but nothing came out.

“I think it’s cute you're jealous, cause you know how much I don’t like Damien.” Angel stepped closer to you, your back was against the door. “I’m jealous querida, I fucking hate knowing that you’re going on another date with him. Why won’t you just cancel and you let me take you out?”

“Angel, I told you, stop with the games.” 

“What fucking games? I told you I fucking want you, I like you and you’re still entertaining this fucker.” Angel stepped away from her, frustrated with her. 

“You’ve ignored me for two weeks, you expect me to believe you want to be around all of a sudden?”

“It was Gilly’s idea, play hard to get. You have no idea how much I fucking want you.” Angel felt like he was going crazy. All he wanted was to be with you, to start this relationship. 

“Listen, I don’t need this right now. Go to Vicky’s get your dick wet, you’ll forget all about this.” It hurt you to say that, but you didn’t want to play this game with Angel. You were trying to put yourself out there. And Angel was your friend, you didn’t want to go back down that road again.

“Do you know how hard it is to fuck another woman when you’re the only thing on my mind? I can’t even get fucking hard without thinking of you.” You slightly gasped at Angel’s confession. You’ve never known anyone as blunt as Angel. He wore his heart on his sleeve, which was why you were surprised to find out he likes you or apparently does. You’ve had conversations like this with another man before, nothing came to fruition, but it was eerie to you how familiar this conversation was. He wasn’t as blunt as Angel, but he always knew what to say to keep you around. Not this time, you wouldn’t fall for it.

“Cat got your tongue querida?” Angel knew he had you. He should have been more straightforward, but he was out of his element. He was finally getting his footing.

“Angel, I have something good with Damien, please don’t ruin it.”

“Is he better than me? Is that what you’re trying to show me? I bet that he won’t make you feel as good as I do.” 

“You know what, fuck you Angel. If I want to fuck anyone, I’ll fuck Damien.” You weren’t even sure why you said that. You had no plans on fucking Damien, none whatsoever. But you knew it would get to Angel and quite frankly, you felt good digging it into him. 

Angel’s phone rang, preventing him from even replying to your ridiculous ass though.

“This is not finished. Have fun on your date querida.” Angel left after the phone call, most likely club business. 

“He is so infuriating.” 

You sat back down on your couch, awaiting Damien’s arrival, but he never came. Just a text message. 

‘I’m sorry, I don’t think this is going to work out. You’re a nice girl, very beautiful, but I just don’t think there’s a spark here.’

You reread his text message a few times, but eventually you placed your phone down, letting out a sigh. 

Guess you’re back in the dating game. 

=================

Currently you were at a club party. You had just walked in with EZ and your eyes immediately roamed around the outside of the clubhouse and found Angel. A beer in one hand and his other resting on a girl’s lap as he whispered into her ear. It was like what happened a few days ago didn’t even fucking happen. He was back to ignoring you, which was so much more difficult with Damien not distracting you. 

“Well that’s nice.” You bitterly chuckled. “EZ tonight might be a short one.”

It was always a short one, but EZ wasn’t a dick. He wasn’t going to let Angel play his game and get a reaction from you. Angel’s game plan was simple, distance himself from you so you could seek him out and to make you jealous so that you would break and proclaim your undying love for him. But you did technically do that, Angel was just being irrational. Gilly was talking him through the whole thing while Coco and EZ just shook their head, not wanting to further egg on Angel’s stupidity.

You looked around, trying to avoid Angel. You noticed then that there were more bikes than usual. When other charters came to Santo Padre, you tried not to come to the parties since you didn’t want to run into him. You knew that he was a full patch member of Stockton. There were times you couldn’t avoid it, but when he would come, Angel was around so he didn’t even try to come near you. But it was different this time, Angel wasn’t around. 

“Which charter is here?” You saw plenty of Mayans' kutte's on their backs flashing that pride proudly, but you couldn’t exactly read the patch at their front. 

“Stockton.”

“Okay, I don’t know why I come to these club parties.” You shook your head. You should be over it by now, it’s been years since your last encounter with him. But knowing he used you just to get some head with the Mayans, it never sat well with you. Five years you were his so called friend and every time you tried to walk away, he gave you enough for you to stay. He kissed you once or twice, just to keep you with him, but as soon as he was a full patch, it was like you were beneath him. You never told your Tio Bishop or Tio Marcus. He was a good foot soldier and the last thing you wanted was to cause drama. This was why you promised yourself to never fall for a Mayan, you had too many connections for there to be no ulterior motive. 

“Come on, you know you don’t mind the free food.” EZ teased you.

“Does your brother hate me now?” No offense to EZ, but you would really much rather have Angel as your protection detail. He kept any other club member from coming up to you. EZ was a prospect, he was technically their bitch. 

“What? Don’t be ridiculous. Angel could never hate you.” And this was why EZ thought Gilly’s plan was ridiculous. You weren’t going to seek out Angel. For people who claimed they knew you, they don’t seem to know you at all. You were going to shy away. You wouldn’t put yourself in the position that would make you more vulnerable. You already thought Angel didn’t like you in the way you like him and this further cemented it. 

“He doesn’t really hang around me anymore. Guess the guard detail changed.” You tried to joke around with EZ, but he could tell you were hurt. The incident a few days ago was most likely a fluke. You tried to text him after, and no answer. 

“Look, you’re not an idiot. Angel told you he liked you that night at the fair right?” If his older brother wasn’t going to be smart about this, then EZ would take matters into his own hands. 

“Yeah, I mean, I don’t know if he actually meant it seeing as how where we are now.”

“It was difficult for him to tell you that and you just kind of brushed it off. We all have our insecurities, but don’t be obtuse, Angel only hung around you whenever you were here. He likes you, a lot.” EZ could see Angel watching them as your back was towards Angel. “Why not put all of us out of our miseries and talk to him?”

“Hey Diego.”

Your reply surprised EZ and he turned around. The man behind him was almost as tall as Angel, muscular built with black short hair. His eyes weren’t even on EZ, it was just on you. 

“Hey, you mind giving us a minute prospect?” Diego acknowledged EZ.

“Sure, not a problem.” EZ looked over at you for some confirmation and you couldn’t exactly escape this conversation now. You just gave him a smile. 

EZ made his way over to where Coco, Gilly and Angel were sitting. His older brother looked at him as if he grew another head, pointing at you.

“The fuck are you doing?” Angel demanded, watching as Diego spoke to you.

“He asked to talk to her, he’s full patch Angel.” EZ explained, he knew the rules. As much as he wanted to stay, a patch asked him to walk away. There was hierarchy for a reason. 

“Yeah, well he’s not your fucking sponsor. If I tell you to stay with her, you fucking stay with her.” Angel’s jaw clenched. Your conversation from a few days back was fresh in his mind. You texted him, but he was across the border dropping off Creeper after he was injured on a run. 

Coco knew Diego. Both by association to the club and from what you told him. He was your confidant, the person you trusted with your secrets. Coco was the first person you befriended in the MC and you two remained close since then.

“Shit,” Coco stood up, thinking of a way to get you out of this conversation. He knew you could fight your own battles, but from what he understood, you had a weak spot for Diego, the man who basically used you to get into the good graces of the MC. “Boy Scout, tell Y/N I gotta talk to her.” If Diego had a problem with that, Coco would handle it then. 

EZ and Angel, who were arguing about EZ’s duties looked over at Coco, who interrupted their bickering. “What?” They asked in unison.

“Just do as I say, go get her.” Coco would do it himself, but he didn’t trust himself to not give Diego a piece of his mind.

“Shit, is that him?” Gilly knew of Diego as well. Him and Coco came over one night and you three happened to get drunk. You told Gilly all about Diego and all about your crush on Angel. Gilly had a soft spot for you as well. The MC were tough bikers, but they were sweet guys, as long as you didn’t fuck with them. 

“Yeah, that’s Diego.” Coco nodded his head. “Prospect, go get her.” He ordered EZ once again. 

“What the fuck is going on?” Angel looked at his best friends, wondering what was going on. Who the fuck was this guy?

Gilly and Coco both ignored Angel, keeping their eye on you. 

“How are you?” Diego wasn’t going to approach you. He would have done so the few times he had been down here with his charter, but Angel Reyes was always attached to you. He didn’t want any unwanted attention, so he didn’t pursue you. Also, he was certain that you weren’t exactly happy with him after everything that transpired. 

“Good, you?” Diego still looked the same, maybe a little older, but he still looked like the same person you had fallen for all those years ago.

“Good, just the same old shit.” He grinned, stuffing his hands in his pocket. “Big move to Santo Padre. Doesn’t look like your scene.”

You nodded your head. “Time for a change of scenery. Besides I followed my mom here and she decided to move back.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen her a few times, she still gives me the death glare.” You two laughed at that, knowing well how that looked like. “I don’t blame her.” He bowed his head, looking at the dirt beneath his feet. Diego was thankful that the clubhouse was full of life. 

You didn’t want to have this conversation, at least not a a fucking party. 

“Don’t,” you shook your head, holding up your hand. “It’s fine. We’ve all moved on.”

“I haven’t, I hurt you. I’ll always be sorry for that.” Diego knew how it looked. He led you on, which he did for his own benefit. But he truly did cherish you. All that hardships you two had shared together wasn’t for nothing. “Can you just let me explain?” He appeared remorseful, but you couldn’t fall for this again, he always looked remorseful. Even when he tried to apologize for that incident with Regina. 

“Some things are best left unsaid.” The last thing you wanted to do was talk about the past that you’ve tried so hard to bury. It didn’t seem like a big deal, but your life revolved around Diego for five years. After he got his patch, he didn’t exactly stop talking to you, he kept you around. You were his unofficial girl that never came into fruition. He would become jealous whenever another guy was around you. He would always reel you back in with sweet promises. To this day, you’re not sure why you let his sweet words get to you, but here you two were now. 

“No, it’s not, I fucked up.” Diego tried to talk to you. Everything fell apart when he fell for another woman. You guys were never official and if he was honest, he felt like a dick for keeping you around. He knew that he would be favored since he was close to Alvarez and Bishop’s niece. Was he a bastard? Absolutely, especially when he realized just how much you did for him. “I hurt you, you didn’t deserve that.”

You are tapping your foot now. Anxiety coursing through your veins. You were not ready to have this conversation even though you thought yourself to have moved on.

“Diego, please, it’s okay. Let’s not open back up old wounds.” You couldn’t even look at him. You were awful at confrontations and you tried to look anywhere but him. Where were Coco and Gilly? Where was EZ? Hell where was Angel?

“Look, I get it, but I think it would be best for both of us to try and get closure. I can’t keep avoiding you and I don’t want you walking on eggshells around me. You were my best friend and I took advantage of that.”

“Will told me that she left you. Is that why you’re speaking to me now?” You hated Regina. She was the one who basically put you on blast over your “annoying obsession” with Diego. You felt like a fool, especially since Diego didn’t do anything but watch. 

“You know that’s not it.” Diego said through gritted teeth forgetting how stubborn you could be. “That bitch has nothing to do with this.”

“She has everything to do with this.” You gnawed at your lip again, not liking the fact you said that. “Just please leave me alone, you’ve done a good job for three years, let’s just keep it that way.”

“You good sweetheart?” You heard Will Medina, the sergeant of arms at Stockton, asked from behind Diego. He was the only one who knew of your plight with Diego. Your tio’s former prospect who used to pick you up from school as one of his duties as a prospect. One of the hardest things to do was leave him, since he was like your pseudo older brother, but you had to go with your mother, just to get a chance of scenery. It was hard whenever you ran into Diego and Regina. 

“Will,” you greeted him warmly. “Yeah, we’re good, right Diegito?”

“For now,” Diego decided to let you go. He’ll try again. He wanted you back in his life. You didn’t belong in Santo Padre. You belonged in Stockton, with your family, with him. He was a bastard, but he was going to make it up to you. This wasn’t about Regina, this wasn’t about the club, this was about you two. 

Both men watched you walk into the clubhouse, not speaking till you were inside.

Medina shook his head, sighing at Diego. “She has a good life here Diegito, stay away. She’s happier here.”

“You know her, she’s good at masking her emotions.”

“And you think she’s hiding her unhappiness?”

“No, I just think she wants to come back home, but doesn’t want to because of Regina.”

“Whole world revolves around you, huh?” Medina knew that they may have been part of the reason why you didn’t want to come home, but he doubted that was the main reason. 

“You know that’s not what I meant, but her mother couldn’t stand the heat, she won’t be able to do so either.” At least Diego hoped you couldn’t. He wanted you back in his life, and he would make sure of it.

“Who the fuck is that guy?” Angel was standing up now. He saw your foot tapping and he was going to make his way over to you, but he saw Medina approaching. You didn’t even look his way when you made your way inside the clubhouse. 

“She really has never spoken to you about Diego?” Coco was surprised that Angel didn’t know about Diego. You were comfortable talking to him and Angel knew a few things, but you withheld a few things from Angel.

“Is that him?” He didn’t know who the fuck Diego was, but he would gladly beat his ass for you. The way your body language changed when EZ left you alone with Diego, it bothered Angel. 

“Yeah, look, I don’t want to step on things. She obviously told me in confidence and Gilly since she was drunk. You can ask her about it.” Coco didn’t want your business out in the open like that. Diego was a big part of your life.

“Coco, you’re my best friend. You’ve known how I felt about her and she apparently confided in you that she likes me, why didn’t you tell me?” It was burned in Angel’s memory that Coco knew everything. He wondered why Coco never said anything to him. They were best friends, brothers. 

“Because she was so afraid to tell you. I didn’t want to do it for her even if I knew how you felt about her. I encouraged her to tell you, but it’s due to her experience with Diego that she didn’t want to do it.”

“She liked him?”

“Fuck.” Coco closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He looked at the women around them. “Leave us.” They dispersed quickly, he didn’t need them gossiping about you. “Diego was her best friend, they became friends their senior year of high school. Once they graduated, Diego expressed his desire to prospect for the Mayans, but they didn’t take him. Using her connections, she somehow convinced Medina to sponsor him.” Coco lit up a cigarette and took a puff before continuing. “He treated her just like you did. He pretended to have feelings for her to keep her by his side even after he got his patch. A few years after he got his patch, a woman came and he fell for her. Bitch called Y/N out, saying that Diego will never have feelings for her and her obsession with Diego was annoying. He just watched as she berated her and after that, Y/N has stayed away from him. She was humiliated and broken apart since she thought Diego had feelings for her, but he didn’t.”

Angel sat back down then, upset at what he was hearing. Who the fuck did Diego think he was? He used you and couldn’t even defend you from a psychotic woman.

“How could Bishop and Alvarez let him patch?” Angel finally spoke up after a few minutes.

“Because she’s never told anyone. She cared about the guy regardless of his past indiscretions.” Gilly answered. “Fuck, I didn’t know all of that.”

“That’s why she thinks you’re just talking to her because of Bishop. That you were bestowed with the duty of being her bodyguard.” Gilly explained.

“I’m already a patch, and even if I wasn’t, I wouldn’t fucking use her to get my patch.” Angel fumed.

“Hermano, calmate, that’s not what I meant.” Coco shook his head. “She knows who she is and who she’s connected to. It’s just her thinking that you stayed around her because of orders from prez. She just has a hard time separating the two due to being burned before.”

Angel felt like an asshole now. What he’s been doing, it basically cemented your thoughts about the whole situation. 

Angel was done with the games. He was going to show you that he was serious. Fuck Diego. He’ll show you how much you were worth it.

You were able to avoid Diego the rest of the night. You were also able to ignore Angel who for some reason decided he was going to talk to you now. The mixed signals and mood swings were too much. Thankfully he left early and you didn’t have to deal with him. He most likely brought a woman home, which you didn’t look forward to since he was your neighbor. 

That’s right.

You lived right next to Angel. 

It was opportunistic, but Angel had told Bishop that the apartment beside him was open. Better way for a Mayan to be close by to ensure your safety. 

Opening the door, you almost had a heart attack when you found Angel waiting for you at your apartment.

“Fuck! Angel, what the hell is the matter with you?” You closed the door behind you, taking a deep breath to calm your heart rate.

“You wouldn’t talk to me, so I figured I’d wait here.” Angel was smoking, sitting on your couch in silence. He looked so damn good. 

“Couldn’t you just have waited at your apartment?”

“Last time I waited at my apartment, I had to barge in here to make sure you weren’t going to fuck Damien.” You has dropped something, causing you to shriek. Angel thought you had come home with Damien, but in reality, you had been at your apartment the whole day and dropped a glass. Angel barged in anyway, looking around wildly to see if Damien was there. You haven’t exactly told anyone that Damien was no longer dating you.

“And as I’ve said before, I don’t know how that is any of your fucking business.” You’re not sure where this confidence came from, but it was here and you plan to utilize it.

“It is my fucking business, why wouldn’t it be?” Angel stood up, putting out his cigarette on the ashtray. “You doing okay?”

“Yes, why wouldn’t I be?” You walked past him, not wanting to be close to Angel right now. Taking off your jacket, Angel whistled at the shirt you were wearing, thankful you never took off your jacket. 

“Who was that guy at the clubhouse?” Angel came in here with the intention of having you tell him about Diego. He didn’t want to throw Coco under the bus.

“None of your business.” The last thing you wanted was to talk to Angel about Diego. The man who you thought would end up like him.

“Come on querida, I didn’t come here to fight. I’ve missed you. Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. He’s just an old friend from up north.” You gave him the cliff notes version of your relationship with Diego. This wasn’t Angel’s business anyway.

You went inside your room, closing the door hoping Angel would get the hint. You changed into some basketball shorts that you absolutely loved due to the comfort and a white shirt you had stolen from Angel during one of the times you slept over his home after a scary film, not wanting to be alone. Coming out of your room, you weren’t surprised that Angel was right outside of your door, what did surprise you was when he crashed his lips on yours, your eyes widening as he did. Before long, your eyes closed giving in to the kiss. How could you deny him? You’ve liked Angel for so long and now he was kissing you.

His hands slipped under your shirt, caressing your sides as he opened your mouth with his tongue. You sighed arching your back against him. 

Pulling away from you, you two were breathing hard, his head resting on your forehead. 

“I like you, Y/N.” He didn’t want to say the other L word yet, that might just scare you away. For now, he would settle with the word like.

“I like you too Angel.” You replied, kissing him one more time before pulling away.

“I know you’ve been burned before, but I won’t do that to you, I could never do that to you.” He began to walk as you walked backwards, your knees hit the edge of your bed causing you to sit down. “I want you, do you want me?”

Was this the right time to tell Angel you were still a virgin?

“Yes.”

Angel groaned, kissing you again as he laid you down on your bed. He hovered over you, making sure he didn’t put his weight on you. Pulling away, your lips chased after him making Angel chuckle. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this mi dulce,” he moved your shirt up, well his shirt, shivers running up your spine. You’ve never gotten this far with anyone. You’ve kissed people, but nothing like this. “Your skin is so fucking soft.” He assisted you on taking off your shirt, your bra was a deep shade of purple. “Purple’s my new favorite color.”

You became nervous then when Angel caressed your breast, softly squeezing it causing you to moan. You’ve never felt that sensation before, everything was so new to you.

“Angel, before we go any further, I have to tell you something.” You placed your hand on top of his, stopping his sinful ministrations. 

“What’s up baby?” Angel’s eyes were dilated, looking at you wish such desire.

“I’m a virgin.”

“You’re a what?” Angel gave you an incredulous look.

Before you could reply, there was a knock on your door. You two looked at one another, before you grabbed the shirt that Angel just discarded. You quickly made your way over to the door, embarrassed by Angel’s reaction. You were certain he would leave after that bombshell. 

Reaching to open the door, Angel pulled you back against his front, “I got it.” He informed you as he moved you behind him. He opened the door and your breath hitched when you saw Diego on the other side.

Diego’s face went from worried to anger in less than two seconds after his eyes landed on Angel.

“What the fuck is this?” He demanded.

“Diego, can I help you?” Angel further blocked you from Diego’s view, putting himself between you and Diego.

“Yeah, I need to talk to Y/N.” Diego straightened his form, trying to assert some type of dominance. But it wasn’t working on Angel. “So if you don’t mind, you can leave her with me.”

“Don’t think that’s going to happen. She’s my girl, you expect me to leave you all alone with her?” Angel scoffed. “What business do you have with her?”

“Your girl? She wasn’t with you a few hours ago. If I remember correctly, you had a whore sitting on your lap for a major part of the night.” Diego smirked. He wasn’t sure why the fuck Angel was here, but he wasn’t leaving till you two spoke.

Angel smirked. “I suggest you walk away before we have a problem here.”

“We already have one.”

Next thing you knew, Angel punched Diego on the face, tackling him to the ground. 

“Angel!” You yelled his name, trying to pull him away from Diego. “Stop it, come on, he’s not worth it.”

But he didn’t hear you. Angel continued to land shots on Diego’s face and body. But then Diego was able to hit Angel on his rib cage, knocking the air out of Angel. He turned them around, with Diego now landing the blows.

“Diego, please stop it!” You pleaded with him and tried to push him off Angel.

“Diego!” You heard Medina running towards you three, pulling off Diego from Angel. He came with Diego to assure that he could intervene when you became upset. He was smoking by his motorcycle when he heard the commotion.

Angel stood up, and was going to lunge for him again, but you wrapped your arms around him, trying your best to hold him back.

“Please stop, he’s not worth it.” 

Angel and Diego glared at one another. Diego was bleeding profusely from his lips while Angel had some blood coming out of his as well. His ribs hurt the most, but he had too much adrenaline coursing through his body. 

“Stay the fuck away from her.” Angel wanted one last time. Spitting out the blood that formed inside his mouth.

“Fuck you Reyes,” Diego snarled. “She can’t be yours when she’s always been mine!” Diego shouted back as Medina pulled him away. 

Angel led you back in your apartment, closing the door and locking it. You looked at him as he leaned against the door. 

“You didn’t have to hit him.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

“I know mi dulce, but he didn’t get the fucking hint.” Angel pushed off your door and walked over to you. “Why the fuck is Diego claiming you?” He knew what he was, but again he didn’t want to throw Coco under the bus. You walked away to the kitchen to get Angel a bag of frozen vegetables to put on his face. 

You gnawed at your lip as you handed him the bag. You knew you could trust Angel, you just didn’t know what to say. He was definitely your best friend once upon a time, but he proved that wasn’t the case. “We went to high school together and became close during senior year. He wanted to prospect for the Mayans and was rejected so I convinced Will to sponsor him. He became a patched member and nothing really changed. I always thought he had feelings for me because he acted as if he was my boyfriend. I always reasoned that he was protecting me or that we didn’t need the labels.” You pursed your lips, your arms crossed once again, but it looked more to Angel that you were holding yourself together. “I, I felt foolish, especially when his girlfriend called me out. It was his birthday and I came to his apartment with cake and his gift. I got him this new riding sunglasses that he had been eyeing for months.” You smiled sadly, trying your best to keep your tears at bay. “She threw my cake to the ground and told me that they were together, she berated me about my obsession with him and how he didn’t feel the same. That he kept me around since I was connected to Mayans royalty.” You looked up at Angel, his heart broke as he saw just how much it hurt you. Even after all these years and he couldn’t blame you. “Five years, I waited on him hand and foot thinking we would be together at the end, but instead I was the dumbass. I couldn’t stay there, it was the reason my mom moved to Santo Padre. Sure, she wanted to be closer to Tio Bishop, but it was due to me.”

Angel watched as your shoulder shook, head towards the ground. How could he do that to you? Use you and throw you away like a piece of trash? His blood boiled just thinking about how heartbroken you must have been to have that happened. It made sense why you kept him at arm's length at the beginning. You were very nice and cordial, but whenever he would try to get to know you, you would just excuse yourself. 

He walked over to you, lifting your face with his finger under your chin. “I would never do that to you. I get he hurt you and the mother fucker is going to pay. But you’re safe here with me. He’ll never be able to fool you again.” He wrapped his arms around you, letting you cry into his chest. Kissing the top of your head, he promised himself that he would do everything he could to make sure you never cried. The way his heart clenched as he just imagined you at Stockton, giving everything you had to a motherfucker who didn’t deserve it.

“I’m sorry,” you pulled away from Angel, wiping your eyes. “If you’re totally not interested in me anymore, I completely understand.” Who would want someone with baggage that involved one of his brothers? Though you were certain Angel never saw Diego in that way. 

Angel rolled his eyes, cupping your face and forcing you to look at him. “Listen I’m fucking here to stay. I’m not Diego, and all you have to do is let me prove it to you. Querida, I like you, why won’t you let me take you out and show you a good time?” Angel wasn’t even sure when he’ll find the time with everything going on, but he’ll make time, for you he would.

“Okay.” You grinned.

=================

Medina pulled Diego to the side, shaking his head. “Haven’t you done enough damage?” He pushed Diego, smacking him upside the head. “We had a deal. I agreed to let you come if you stayed the fuck away from her.” Medina knew he should have never let Diego come. He was too persistent for him to not do anything. 

“I have to get her back.” Diego spat out the blood in his mouth. “I know we had a deal, but when I saw her, I couldn’t help myself. I miss her.”

“I don’t give a fuck. You fucked up. Just because the pussy you gave her up for left you, doesn’t mean you should disrupt her life.” Medina has his hands on his hips, watching as Diego sat on the floor collecting his breath. 

“I love her.”

“No you fucking don’t. You romanticized her because of her connection to Bishop and Padrino, but she’s more than that. She fucking did everything for you and what did you do? Break her fucking heart. You don’t love her, you just missed how she waited on you hand and foot.” Medina scoffed. “Stay the fuck away.” He warned. He never told Bishop or Padrino, but maybe it was time to do it now.

“I listened to you once and I’m not going to stay away. You can’t tell me how I feel about her. I know what I feel regardless of my past indiscretions.” Diego stood up then, spitting on the ground once more and dusting off his clothing. 

“Angel would never let you near her.” Medina knew of Angel’s liking towards you due to Bishop. He kept him updated since Medina had been around you for years. 

“He won’t always be with her, after all, I’m gonna be here for the next few months.” Diego smirked. 

“What?” Medina was confused. What the fuck was he on?

“Santo Padre is down a man, they need someone to fill in, so I volunteered.”

“Diego, this is a bad fucking idea.” 

“She was mine first and once I treat her like how she deserves to be treated, show her how much I love her, she’ll come back to me.” 

Medina knew that wasn’t going to be the case. 

Angel wouldn’t let that happen. 

He had to make sure Angel wouldn’t let that happen.

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