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#my throat hurts my head hurts I'm so so tired my feet hurt bc my shoes don't fit right my joints hurt bc of god knows what
septimus-heap · 6 months
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Having a bad day :(
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matchadobo · 5 months
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hi idk if this is an odd request but could you write a shanks x reader where she uses her safeword bc she’s starting to feel bad and he how he comforts her after <3 tysm 🫶
SHANKS; safeword
wc: 834
warning/s: nsfw 🔞, p0rnp0rnp0rn, fluff in the end, afab reader, wrote this in one sitting whabshabah
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you tried clawing at his chest as a sign to tell him to stop, but it seemed as if he took it as a compliment. your cunt felt so numb. you already came and you lost track how many times. shanks loves overstimulating you, that hazy look of lust in your eyes gets him going even more. but you love it too of course, it’s just that, it’s different now. he looks too feral, too hungry, too scary.
“what’s got you so quiet, princess? don’t give up on me now, yeah? you’re taking all of me so well.” he tucked a hair that was starting to stick on your forehead. “already tired, eh?” a smirk made its way to his lips, he loved what he saw. flushed face, parted, drooling lips, and the half-lidded look of sex in your eyes.
the view of him slowly losing himself by the warmth of your folds. it feels so sticky and wet and his cock was throbbing at the clench of your sopping crevice. he loved how red and used your core looked. he’d throw his head back and slick back his sweaty hair, brutally pounding into you. each thrust hitting your cervix that it started choking you.
“t-too much…” you meekly let out, but it was unintelligible to him. he was too lost in the ecstasy of you. your lower half was aching by the minute, like it was going to bleed because of his pace and size.
“s-shanks too much…!” you tried a little louder this time. you couldn’t bellow it out clearly though, your stomach was so heavy. yet he still couldn’t hear it. soon enough, tears formed in your eyes, precariously cascading down your cheeks.
“roses.”
it only took the wetness of your cheeks and the weak sobs of the safeword for the emperor to stop. that flower that filled the fields on where he met you made him remember how delicate you are and how you should be treated. he stiffened up immediately, taking his hand off your throat. his hand immediately clutched your cheek, thumbs wiping off the tears. “oh fuck- baby, sweetheart i’m so sorry.” he pulled you up into his embracd, the look in his eyes much kinder this time. your voice sobering him up instantly. “d-did i squeeze your throat too much? did i bite too hard? t-tell me.”
“are you- where does it hurt?” he pulled away, searching for any noticeable sign of hurt on your body and eyes. he was still in you though, he figured it’d hurt more if he pulled out right away.
“just my cunt that you abused.” you sarcastically remarked, laughing meekly through teary eyes.
“jesus, i’m so sorry. i was- i'm fucking stupid. you just felt so good, and i’m so tired, and i needed you. i’m just- sorry i went too far, darling.” he panicked. suddenly, the big, scary emperor was now pouting before you. “y-yeah, let’s stop here.” he lied you down, slowly pulling out while carefully watching if your face contorted in any pain.
aaand the goofy shanks you fell in love to was now back, not that cunt hungry motherfucker earlier (but that works too, sometimes 😝). he soon ran a cold bath for you, cleaning you up. he distracted you with his funny stories, reveling on how you smile and how your cries fade away.
he’d usually take you out by the deck, let you clung on his arm to help you walk. you two’d settle by the edge of the ship, he’ll grab a pillow for you to sit on while your feet hang loosely above the flowing current, and he’d have a protective arm around your waist. the comforting blues and the salty air would relax the both of you, he’d place his chin on your shoulders and revel in your fragrant body wash and natural scent.
“i’m really sorry, love.” he mumbled, bashfully looking down. “have i really not hurt you?” the look of pure concern in his ruby eyes made you remember why you fell in love with him again.
“just a little but, that’s why we have a safe word, right? i understand, love. don’t worry about it.” you tuck a hair hanging by the side of his face on his ear.
“i-i’ll take you to hongo later.”
you couldn’t help but play it off with a nod as your fingers softly brush by his scarred cheek. during the visit with hongo, shanks had his head hung low with his hand behind him sheepishly when hongo confirmed that you were just overfucked and you were totally fine.
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so i got sick again fml buuuut to the person who requested this, i aM SO SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG LMFAO 🥺 like i said, i don't want to release shit half-baked and tonight was the only night i felt the mood with this man 😏 sooo i hope this makes you happy 😩 even tho it's so short!!
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madschiavelique · 6 months
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Been vomiting my intestines out all week, can't even get up due to high fever
I need big, strong, Irish-Mexican man to take care of me. Pretty please
okay i am SO sorry i took so long but going back to school happened and i got way too much work per weeks to do
but i have a little holiday week ! so i thought catching up on my old requests might be good hehe
(i didn't include vomit in there bc it's smth that triggers me as stated in my request rules but still made reader pretty sick - i am sick myself atm so YEA enjoy)
summary : miguel takes care of you when you're sick content warnings : none, pure fluff and comfort, no use of Y/N (didn't proofread but i think i kept it a gender neutral reader way ? do correct me if i'm wrong please) word count : 1,1k
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You knew when you woke up that morning that work would be utterly impossible. Every joint felt like it was made of lead, your head felt like it was filled with cotton wool and your stomach was screaming at you that something was definitely wrong.
You straightened up, immediately regretting your choice as you almost fell backwards. Your head hurt like hell, your whole body felt cold and you were shaking like jelly.
Last night you'd simply fallen asleep with a little headache and a scratchy throat, but that was nothing like the pain you were feeling now.
"Miguel?" you called, your lips heavy.
You'd been tired the day before, but not that tired. You looked at the clock on your bedside table; it was early enough for Miguel to still be in the flat, unless he was out for a morning jog.
You hesitated to call him again, considering how you seemed to be having trouble swallowing your own saliva. You swallowed, wincing as you felt as if your throat had been riddled with blows from the inside.
You made a second attempt to sit up, less abruptly this time. You were thinking, wondering what you could have done in the last few days to get yourself into something so violent.
You needed a painkiller, and you needed it fast if you wanted to keep your wits about you for the rest of the day. You turned slowly, placing your feet on the ground. You felt completely frozen.
You pushed on your legs, feeling for the moment as strong as a slightly overstretched elastic band. Once you were completely up on your feet, Miguel entered the room.
As you'd expected, he'd just come back from his morning jog.
"Good morning, nena," he smiled as he opened one of his wardrobe doors, not wanting to let you near him while he was still sweating.
You were almost jealous of his energy at the moment, how was it that you were feeling so unpleasantly uncomfortable and he was frolicking around like a lionless antelope?
"Mornin'," you croaked, swallowing and wrinkling your nose at the sensation as this simple gesture made you cough a couple of times.
Your cough was slightly heavy, which obviously surprised you as much as it did Miguel. He was putting on a new pullover, his head sticking out over the collar, revealing his furrowed brow.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, taking a few steps towards you.
"I don't know..." you tried to speak words, but it was as if you'd bitten them into pieces before spitting them out lazily.
Not at all satisfied with your answer, Miguel placed a hand on your cheek, his frown deepening as he placed his lips against your forehead.
You let out a sigh of relief, feeling the warmth of his body next to yours, easing the chill that clung to your skin.
"Cariño," he murmured, stepping back and looking into your glassy eyes, "you have a fever."
"It's all right," you mumbled as his hand, warm as tenderness, caressed your cheek with its thumb, letting your head sink into his palm as if onto a pillow.
The 'everything's fine' was more automatic than true. You knew how Miguel, despite his sometimes disinterested demeanour towards others, could become worried about you with frightening alacrity.
"When was the last time you had a day off?" he'd ask, sighing with an exasperation that sounded like 'you weren't careful were you'.
The effort of thinking about it gave you an expression as painful as if you were banging your head against a wall. So that's why you were so sick.
It's true that, come to think of it, you hadn't managed to get even a single second's respite for several weeks. You were filing paper after paper, spending the time you had when you got home wrapping up files, and the pace had given you the impression that you were gradually turning into a robot.
"Two weeks?" you suggested.
"Nena, you've been like this for over a month now," corrected Miguel.
"Fooling is my favourite thing to do," you purred, still pressing your head into his hand and closing your eyes.
"You shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard, it's not good for you," his tone was gentle, his eyebrows previously furrowed in frustration now knotted in worry.
"You're one to talk," you laughed softly, your eyes reopening to meet his gaze.
"I - yes, well," he admitted, biting the inside of his cheek. "Let's get you back into bed."
You weren't going to fight what you wanted most in the world right now, so Miguel gently helped you to lie down. It pained him to see you in such a state. No matter how many threats he fought, he couldn't stop you getting sick.
He piled the cushions behind your back to keep you comfortable, tucked you in carefully, and sat down beside you, one of his hands resting on your thigh covered by the blanket.
He stroked it with his thumb through the fabric, letting out a sigh followed by a thin smile that made him relax his shoulders.
"Tell me what you want for today, anything. Your favourite food, watch your favourite film, have me bring you anything. I'll stay with you today."
That Miguel would do you the honour of staying with you today, putting his work aside, almost made you want to cry. Whether it was joy or surprise, or both combined, you had no idea, but what was certain was that the sensations your body was sending you, which were quite pleasant, would undoubtedly be better in his presence.
"Let's start with a painkiller," Miguel suggested as he stood up and headed for your medicine cabinet, "and something to counter the fever."
"I was looking forward to living in agony for the rest of my life," you laughed to yourself as you waited for him to return.
The rest of the day was in stark contrast to everything you'd had to endure in the last month or so of relentless work. Miguel brought you food in bed, asked how your symptoms were progressing by the hour, and you watched a number of films that you enjoyed together.
He kept hugging you, softly caressing your skin, making sure you’d always finish your glass of water and wouldn’t stop for a second to be by your side.
He’d kiss your forehead, your cheeks and wouldn’t listen to you before kissing your lips. You kept telling him you didn’t want him to be this close to you for the sole reason that you didn’t want him to get sick as well. But he didn’t care, he didn’t care if he got sick, because the one who was ill as of now was you and you needed all the comfort you could get.
You couldn't have wished for a better miracle cure than Miguel's presence.
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narrators-journal · 4 months
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How to get a promotion 101
Well, I'll be honest. Some of these asks are taking so much time p simply bc I'm working on my fic, or I can't think of much for them. Like, good set ups, or creative smut for the nsfw stuff. But! I did finally cook something up for this prompt! So I hope you enjoy, and I hope Haru is in character, at least a lil lol.
CW: Femdom, office sex, blueballing kinda, lol.
You had gone to college to have a high paying job. Something that would grant you the freedom to enjoy life while also being stable. That was the dream, anyways. Yet, the more reasonable side of yourself knew that to feasibly reach that dream, you had to climb the ladder still. So, you had bitten the bullet and gotten a meager assistant’s job.
Which, was how you had come to work for Okumura foods, under Haru Okumura herself.
A gorgeous woman who had found the perfect balance between being approachable and sweet, yet efficient and ruthless when it was required. She was almost an inspiration for you, so, even though you disliked playing puppy and fetching things for others, you looked at your assistant job as less of a tolerable humiliation, and more as a chance to learn from such a put together woman.
It didn’t hurt that Haru was beyond gorgous as well. With curly brown hair that framed her doll-like face, warm, chocolate-y eyes, a perfectly filled out body and an easy laugh, Your boss had pretty quickly become your workplace crush.
The shrill cry of your phone abruptly put a stop to those thoughts. “Yes, Ms. Okumura?” you chirped into the phone, hearing a tired sigh from the other end, “I have no time for pleasantries. Just be a good boy and start a pot of tea for me so that it’s ready when I get back.” She ordered, the edge of irritation in her words already warning you of how rough her latest meeting must have been, but it was hard to focus on that part of her words with the phrase ‘good boy’ rattling around in your skull. “-Are you listening?” She snapped, the harsh crack of her words snapping you out of your own head and sent you scrambling for words. “Oh! Y-yes ma’am! Right away, ma’am!” which, got an annoyed hum, “Repeat back what I told you to do, so I’m sure you understood.” Your boss ordered, her temper soothed slightly, but the- playful? -firmness of her words still lit a fire in your belly. But, you swallowed down the knot in your throat to reply, “U-uh...you asked me to get you some...tea, ma’am.” “Good boy,” she said again, as if she was aware of how those two words had shaken you the first time, “I’ll be back in ten minutes, have it ready by then.”
With that, Haru hung up, and you were left listening to the dial tone for a few heart beats before you remembered to finally put the phone back in its cradle. God....am I into that?You asked yourself as you sat back in your office chair, your eyes staring forward into the emails you had been mindlessly sorting through before Haru had called. Yet, before you let yourself contemplate what embarrassment that meant for you, you got to your feet and hurried to prepare your boss’ tea kettle.
So, by the time your boss swished into the office, her skirt fluttering around her shapely legs, her light brown hair as perfect as usual, and her warm autumnal eyes sharp, you were back at your desk. Obediently at work on the latest reports and emails until Haru stopped at her door to say, “Be a dear and come into my office. I need you to do something for me, dear.” Which, made you blink in confusion, but you got up nonetheless to follow her in.
And, befitting a woman of her status, her office was impressive. Rather spacious, with a cabinet of fine liquors to offer her guests or show off her wealth, a strong, dark-wooded desk decorated with pictures of her friends and papers, with two windows to give her plenty of sunlight and a view. It was the type of office you wanted one day, when you had your own business.
”Thank you for starting my tea for me, by the way,” Haru hummed as she sat in the comfortable desk chair she had, snapping you out of your thoughts of the future. “Oh, of course ma’am, I just hope I didn’t mess up your kettle or anything.” You said, which made her laugh lightly, a wonderful sound. “Don’t worry, I doubt you did. Though, could you do me one more favor?” She asked, giving you a sweet smile, “Could you give me a shoulder massage? That meeting has me very, very tense.” “Of course, ms. Okumura,” You hummed as you walked behind her chair and put your hands on her shoulders to slowly start working the tension from her muscles. All the while, her warm vanilla perfume wafted up to you to worm into your mind like an intoxicant.
Yet, the hypnosis of her alluring scent was interrupted when your boss let out a small moan and leaned into the circles your thumbs worked into her. “You’re so good at this, I should have you rub my shoulders more often.” Haru hummed, her eyes closed as she apparently enjoyed your touch, so she didn’t see the light dusting of heat her simple praise received. “Well, thank you, ma’am. I am...here to please.” You said with a small, flustered chuckle. “Here to please, hm?” The brunette hummed, opening her eyes to examine your face for a long moment before she asked, “How eager are you to please, then? I could use some pleasing after that meeting.” Her flirtatious tone nowhere near hidden while her dark eyes studied you while you contemplated the next move. Is she really coming onto me? Holy shit, has she been hitting on me for a while now? You asked yourself. And, with a glance back at the gorgeous woman who watched you with a small smile on her glossed lips, it was sealed. I mean, shit. If she has, I should take this shot for sure. “I like to think I’m pretty eager, ma’am. Is there something else you’d prefer I do?” You asked, your massage paused while you and your boss simply looked at one another.
Until, finally, Haru broke the staring contest and got up from her chair to chirp, “In that case! Be a good boy, and get under my desk. I know just the way you can help me de-stress!” with a bright smile, which, threw you off of your game. “Excuse me, Ms. Okumura? You lost me.” You asked, so the woman took a step towards you, her smile bright yet her words laced with a command. “Get under my desk. You want to please me, right? Then do as your told.” She ordered, and while she wasn’t a bitch about it, her words alone were enough to send another bolt through your body
So, you did as you were told. Allowed to watch from beneath the dark-wooded desk as Haru slid her panties from beneath her skirt and returned to her chair. “Now, be a good boy and eat me out, okay?” She said, and, again, her voice left little room to argue. So, you didn’t try. Simply moving to sit between her feet and get to work.
I really did not expect to discover this at work.You thought as you leaned forward and let your tongue slide over your boss’ folds. But what a hell of a woman to learn it from…
With that, and a growing boner in your pants, you set about devouring the woman in front of you. Pushing your tongue between her folds, sucking at her clit gently, and drinking down each small hum and breathed moan she gave. Encouraged further each time Haru’s plush thighs twitched with the threat of suffocating you between them or whispered bit of praise from her mouth. On some level, if she had decided to suffocate you between her legs and drown you in the warm slick that poured from her cunt, you wouldn’t have minded.
However, she, sadly, didn’t snap your neck with her soft thighs. The worst she did was reach down to tangle a manicured hand into your hair to encourage your tongue to dive into her slick warmth. And, when you obeyed the hints, you were rewarded with a louder moan and a tug at your hair. “God, you’re doing so good, baby. Keep that up,” She breathed, meanwhile, her words sent a bolt of fresh heat into your groin as she let go of you after a moment so that she could return to her paperwork. At least, until the alternating stimulation of your tongue thrusting into her willing cunt and working at her clit, inevitably broke her concentration yet again. But, her work wasn’t what was on your mind in that moment. All of your focus was eaten up by the tent in your pants, the teased threat of Haru’s plump thighs closing around your head, the taste of her arousal on your tongue, and the way her pussy squeezed the muscle each time you slipped it into her.
So, the finance reports could’ve caught on fire for all you cared. Especially when you felt Haru begin to shudder and squirm under your tongue while she panted and moaned more. So, you focused your attention to pressing your tongue to her clit and thrusting the wet muscle into her until you felt her fingers tangle back into your hair and her legs finally close around your head. Trapping your mouth against her spasming cunt as she rode out her orgasm with a whine. Though, after she had begun to come down from the euphoria high, she still kept you trapped between her legs for a moment longer before finally allowing you to catch your breath.
While you panted, Haru let out a slow breath of her own, pushing her chair back to look beneath the desk at you with a small smile on her lips. “Poor boy, you’re all riled up, aren’t you?” She noted, glancing down at the tent in your work pants as her smile grew and her warm brown eyes twinkled, “Would you like some help with that?~” and, she smiled when you nodded, the need and desire creating a thick, neglected fog in your head, “Uh, yes ma’am.” you breathed, but your boss merely hummed at the desperation you were sure was in your eyes and twirled a lock of curly brown hair around one of her manicured fingers. And, she took her sweet time to chew on your situation, keeping you trapped beneath her desk as she did. “In that case, I want you to refrain from touching yourself for the rest of the day, alright? If you’re a good boy and do that, I’ll help you with that.” She finally said, which made you scowl, but her, laugh. “Don’t make such a face, it’s only a few more hours, dear. I’m sure you can do it.” She assured, before she finally pushed her chair back and got up to pull her underwear back on.
With that, she went over to her tea kettle as if the topic stopped there. So, you climbed out from beneath the desk and readjusted yourself with another scowl. Yet, when Haru next spoke to you, she was back to business as usual, so, begrudgingly, you did your best to do the same. After all, you couldn’t keep your job and climb the social ladder if you got fired for slacking.
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kil-g · 1 year
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bent over backwards
a/n: things have slowed down bc i've been having a really hard time enjoying my work lately. raaaa.
pairing: chesa "smoke" fernandez (oc) x simon "ghost" riley
word count: 1.3k
warnings: blood, injury, mentions of death
--
The first time Chesa and Simon kiss, it’s slow and deliberate.
Chesa had broken glass embedded in her right arm and a gunshot in her side. The pain steadily became unbearable as time passed while they waited for exfil. 
Simon had to drag her to the extraction point. He spent the entire walk whispering his stupid, terrible jokes to keep her awake. 
“Why did the scarecrow win an award?” He says, her arm wrapped around his shoulder. The faint smell of a forest fire was somewhere in the distance. 
“Simon.” She groans. “I'm tired. it hurts.”
“I know,” He says. “I know. Why did the scarecrow win an award?”
“What are you talking about?” She murmurs, “I don't know, Simon, please.”
“Because he was outstanding in the field.” He replies, hitching her weight up slightly and sliding his arm up her side for a better grip. 
“That's stupid.” Chesa says. 
“It is.” Her foot slips on the mud going uphill and he lifts her up, just slightly. “We’re almost there. Exfil will be here any second.”
Once they cleared the hill the abandoned building, just as Price said, was there and in sight.  
“Why are there gates around a cemetery?”
A bit more of her weight leans onto him, “Why?”
“Everyone's dying to get in.”
Chesa groans, “Simon.” She coughs. 
“We’re almost there.”
She was badly injured and he felt mostly responsible. Granted, she came out of most missions with some semblance of an injury but never this bad.
The image of her falling over into broken glass left a sharp ache in his head. The dark red stain blooming just above her hip, the sweat dripping over her brow. 
It was on his watch that this happened, after all.
Simon did his best to shake the image out, and continue on through the darkness of the night. He focused on the sound of the forest floor crunching beneath his feet, itching to think of anything else.
Once they reach the building, Simon lowers Chesa’s weight to lean onto the wall and shuts the door behind him. 
Even beneath the dim light, can he tell just how close to death she could’ve been. The stain on the side of her torso had reached a nauseating size. She lets out a labored cough that even he could feel in his own chest and throat.
“Exfil will be here soon.” He offers. She nods, weakly, in response. “Stay awake, Smoke.”
“I'm not dying here, Riles.” She says. Simon huffs at the sound of the nickname that he’d begrudgingly received from her some time ago. “Otherwise—“ She coughs and leans her head against the wall. “—otherwise, the last thing I'd ever heard were your terrible excuses for jokes.”
“Can’t have that, can we?”
She hums a ‘no,’ and swallows hard. Grimacing through the dryness of her mouth and the taste of a hot iron, freshly struck. “How much longer?”
He peeks out the corner of the door, hoping to catch just the slightest glimpse of anything even resembling a helicopter somewhere in the gloom of the sky shrouded in a thick fog. 
“Any second,” He says. his eyes are trained through the window of the door. “I'll get you out, Chesa. Just stay awake.”
“I can't even have a little nap?” It's a sorry excuse for a joke, but, what else was there to do?
Simon moves away from the door and moves to stand before her.
He doesn’t know what else to say, so instead, he studies her. It would’ve unnerved her if she wasn’t already so out of it. The room was spinning and she couldn’t read him at all. “Is there something on my face?”
Her lips were a sickly pale shade than their usual warm and deep sort of pink. There’s dirt caking her face and the space beneath her eyes is darkened from exhaustion. She blinks up at him. 
His eyes follow as a drop of sweat drops down her cheek. He tries to arrange the lump of words he can immediately think of into anything that might pass as some sort of an excuse or an apology. But, it doesn’t take. And the lump quickly becomes a mass of shame and guilt.
Then the drop of sweat hangs off her chin, and falls. 
Chesa held grudges, sure. her anger, her grief, her bitterness towards all things stained the edges of her mind where other people were supposed to be. Like coffee spilled over printer paper. 
But, Simon did not exist at the edge of her head, he was closer to the center. And, whether he liked it or not, she had been there too, in the center of his head. Always tip-toeing on the borderlines of his consciousness. A pebble in his shoe. She lingered between the lines in the steady stream of his thoughts.
“If I'm ugly, just say that.” She says, weakly. And just like that, the thoughts come through the stream and slip around through the smallest gaps like water in his hands. He’s only aware now of just how long he’d be staring. 
Then, in a quick and fluid motion, he pulls the mask over his nose. He takes her cheeks into both of his gloved hands and leans in before she has half a mind to react. 
Her mouth is much warmer than he thought they would be. 
Like kissing a corpse, he thought once. It was a stupid conversation he’d once had with Soap and Gaz after too many drinks. She’d left the bar earlier than everyone else. A year later, the memory still existed in his mind and he still regretted it even then. Talking about her when he knew she couldn’t hear.
Her lips were dry, that much could be anticipated. But, she was warm. Almost, feverishly so. 
Her hand weakly grasps at the straps of his tactical vest and tug, slightly. He had to think twice about putting too much of his weight over her. He could taste her blood smudging the edges of her lips.
It felt nice. Simon, admittedly, was wary of describing it as anything else. Nice was convenient. He had to be able to live on without it. Inconvenience was just that–something you could live with–even if it was nicer to not be inconvenienced at all. This and the overwhelming understanding that death was a counterpart to each and every task they completed with their work had inspired a new kind of anxiety in him.
Despite that, he inched closer and closer until there was no more room between them. He tilts his head to one side and bumps the tip of his nose against hers in the process. Her warmth climbs up his neck and eats away at his skin uncomfortably.
Then, the sound of a helicopter beating the air began to ring in his ears. Slowly, hesitantly, he pulls away and her eyes flutter open.
“So, I’m not ugly?” Chesa murmurs breathily, the slightest smile ghosting over her lips. His eyes move rapidly between hers that are sleepier than what he last remembers. “I didn’t think you liked me that much.” Absent-mindedly, his thumbs brush shapes along her cheeks. 
Then, he lets go.
He tugs his mask back down, and pulls her good arm over his shoulder. 
When they step out of the abandoned building, the helicopter has touched down. Two privates on board scramble off it as Ghost barks, “Smoke needs medical.”
The pair take Chesa onto a stretcher and load her on. Simon’s mouth is still warm, with just the slightest taste of metal lingering over his tongue. 
His eyes don’t leave her the whole ride back even as the medical team on board treat whatever they can over the course of the trip. There’s a thick syrup shrouding his consciousness, but even still, he can’t sleep. 
And, after they’ve touched down at base. After Chesa is carried to the medical wing on a stretcher, he still can’t sleep. 
So, instead, he paces the premise until the Sun starts to peak over the horizon and stays awake until anyone with the authority to say so, allows him the clearance to see her. 
He pulls up a chair as silently as possible, even though he knows that nothing will pull her out of an anesthesia induced sleep. Surrounded by the tubes and the wires, he counts the hours it takes for the color to saturate the skin of her lips once again.
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yaboyspodcastpalace · 2 years
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Ahhh I want to ask you about literally all of them, but, please: Recognition through fear, Jon/sasha dancing and Widdle waby otters
:D!!!!!
under the cut bc three fics mean triple the space!
[WIP Challenge! ask me about my wips :} ]
OKAY jon/sasha dancing first bc its the most straightforward: one day i got obsessed with the idea of jon and sasha dancing waltz, sasha guiding him and also dipping him low and him letting her bc he's smitten okay, i rbed a prompt game begging for someone to send me the dancing one and then i couldn't finish it ;o;
[previous snippet, right before this]
The first two movements were predictably enough a disaster, as Jon started following her lead but she apparently realized the movement was supposed to be backwards, thus colliding with each other in the middle. As vanilla scent enveloped them she started whispering to herself where they were supposed to be going, both sets of eyes looking down to their feet in an attempt not to crash anymore, and after a couple of turns they actually managed to find a rhythm. Jon was the first to look up from their feet to the people around them, to make sure nobody was looking at them (nobody was, despite the prickling sensation at the back of his head), and finally lend them on Sasha's face.
She had a look of light concern, as if their joined feet were a difficult line of code she couldn't get her head around, and Jon almost expected her to stick out her tongue as she sometimes did. On a professional level, her dedication for everything was something admirable, and once again he was immeasurably glad that she decided to continue working with him. On a less professional level, maybe he was feeling a bit lighter on his feet seeing her up close, and when she finally looked back up he felt a knot at the base of his throat.
i mention the dipping bc she does, in fact, dip him later! he complains that nobody else is doing the dip and she's like Yeah but i really wanted to do it :p when will i have the chance to do this again, Jon?
-
widdle waby otters is.... exactly what it says on the title, kind of: early season 2 wolf (my beloved ♥), hera is offline and hilbert on the brig, and eiffel and minkowski spending all their time fixing stuff, when suddenly, silence....... both of them debating Who should be the one getting some sleep (minkowski voting for her second in command, eiffel for his commander), when finally minkowski says What If They Both Slept, on the bridge so if anything happened they'd be ready, tied together and to the console so they wouldn't drift apart and hurt each other, and THEN eiffels like OH.. LIKE OTTERS :D
like literally literally:
"Oh!" Up until the last point Eiffel was slowly nodding to her idea, but something about her last statement made his eyes light up. "Like otters!"
"What?"
"Yeah, yeah, like widdle waby otters!"
"...What!?"
"Like..." He laughed a bit, snapping his fingers as he recalled something. "One time my... the tv was on, right? And I see this shot of two adorable fluffy otters holding hands, and apparently they slept like that so they wouldn't float away in the water and it was so cute..." He puffed his chest with an evident overload of affection as he took his own hand in demonstration, and Minkowski pressed her mouth on a thin line.
"That... is extremely adorable, yes... Not quite what I was going for-"
"Well yeah, I mean, I assume we're not gonna hold hands but-"
"But that is the principle of what I'm saying, yeah." She took a breath, so very tired. "So...? What do you think?"
quoting this previous scene too bc its fucking hilarious (also, in case it wasn't obvious, its just a goofy fic of them doing goofy things due to sleep deprivation)
"I know how can we settle this on a simple, peaceful way once and for all." Triumphantly, he pulled out a coin. "Aha! Heads or tails?"
"Uh." That was not... "Heads."
"Heads for the lady and tails for the gentleman, come on lady luck."
And the flipped it with such force that it would have taken a couple of long seconds before it went down to his hand to reveal the winner and the loser, if forces of gravity applied in such context.
Which it didn't.
For obvious reasons.
Instead the coin kept twisting and twisting until it reached the ceiling and then with the same inertia it got thrown down to their side and then it kept ricocheting around. Eiffel looked at it as it uselessly floated progressively slower in the chamber with a sad, sad face, while Minkowski looked at him expression unwavering, if only because for a second she really did hope for it to roll heads.
"Wow."
"No..."
"You always manage to surprise me, Eiffel."
-
FINALLY, for Recognition through fear, its a small martin/annabelle fic where martin ponders about spiders while looking at annabelle sleeping on their s5 trip, wondering about what happened to her arachnophobia when she became an avatar of the web, feeling annoyed for worrying and even moreso when he carefully takes one of the larger spiders from her cheek with his hand and actually recognizes the subtle flinch of fear when she sees it up close
and it feels cruel
(and its annoying to relate, one way or another, to her)
He felt uncomfortable staring, but curiosity was contagious, he guessed, [ironically] of where and when they were, and he couldn't help but reach a little bit across the table while holding his breath to see it closer. He could barely distinguish the edges at first sight, entirely covered with thick cobwebs that resembled those edges he forgot to dust while living alone, and yet... color appeared behind it. Was it red? Pink? Something other, sickish? Part of him recoiled at the thought that that was, in fact, her brain, when a sight took his thoughts somewhere else. Somewhere close, perhaps.
The wall of cobwebs shifted under his gaze and it took him a long moment to understand what he was seeing. Spiders, tiny ones in between the holes and bigger ones raising to the surface, reaching her skin with long limbs and standing on her cheek. The thought of how he shouldn't trust them crossed Martin's mind, shouldn't like them, for they were agents of The Web just like the woman he so intensely guarded at the moment. But he was alone (and he really Was alone, wasn't he? Away from Jon, hidden from the Eye, from the Fears, the only other person deep on a dreamless sleep) and a quiet smile crossed his mouth despite the frown on his face, even that softening a little.
His moment of secret affection wasn't more than a blink, though, when he saw her twitch. Martin quickly retracted to his seat, grip tight on his book, but Annabelle didn't wake up. She simply... twitched. And shuddered. Eyes moving inside her eyelids and face contracting and breath itching and- Was she having a nightmare? Could she even do that, here? Putting his book aside again he frowned again, confused, concerned, and annoyed at his own concern. Until the spider watching back from her cheek made its way through her face and the movement of it grew for an instant, and it clicked.
It made sense, didn't it?
No, it didn't.
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yeahimaloser · 3 years
Text
Oh, To Be In Love 2
PART 2
Hawks x reader 
This story will be about how you and your best friend of 5 years, pro hero Hawks, learn how to be in love with each other. 
OMG!!! For real thank you all so much for liking my other Hawks X reader’s. As promised, here's part two of Oh, To Be In Love.
Here's the link to part 1 :)oh-to-be-in-love
ALSO THIS IS VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ!!!!! In this story Hawks picks up the reader and flies with them. I realize that some of the readers out there are plus sized, have a fear of flying, maybe some readers are disabled. But whatever the case I made a separate part were he doesn’t pick up the reader, I really want everyone who reads this to see themselves in the y/n. So this is the link!!! https://yeahimaloser.tumblr.com/post/633775712831225856/oh-to-be-in-love
No pronouns for the reader are used in this story, so feel free to read if you use any pronouns!!
Word count: 1722
Please enjoy!
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You were a total loser.
You had just called your best friend of 5 years, and also the person you were in love with, and told him about a guy you didn’t even want to go out with. Yet, you just wanted to see if he would say anything to deter you from going out with this other guy. But Hawks just gave you some friendly advice. You were expecting this, he was always so supportive of your life choices. 
You groaned to yourself, God you hated this. Wondering what he really thought of you.
You scoffed at yourself, why would the number 2 pro hero ever want to go out with you? You two were just friends, nothing else.
But you just couldn’t help but be in love with him. Maybe you really were helpless.
You could recall when you first fell in love with the winged bastard… 
“Damn,” you groaned to yourself. “I'm totally gonna be late.”
The whole start to your day totally sucked. Your alarm didn’t go off, then you realized you forgot to do the laundry the day before, and on top of that you didn’t have enough time to eat. 
So there you were, running late on an empty stomach, stinky clothes and overall just really tired.
You sighed to yourself. Sometimes life was a bitch.
But then you saw a flash of red, and looked over to see Hawks standing only a few feet besides you. He gave you that exceedingly charming smile, “Need a lift?”  
You and Hawks have been friends for around 3 years now, and yet he’s never taken you flying yet. Due to the hero licenseing law, he could only fly with you if it involved hero work.
You huffed, “Shouldn’t you be on patrol,” you asked in a snarky tone. 
“Well,” Hawks said, striding over to you, “I’m on patrol, and also insanely bored. So, why don’t I keep you company.”
You shook your head at him, “Shouldn’t you be doing actual hero work?”
Hawks just chuckled at you, “I suppose, but hear me out,” his eyes seem to light up, “your a civilan, your in destress. So as a hero, I’ll escort you to your final destionation! The fact that we know eachother is just a bonus!”
You just smirked, rolling your eyes, “Whatever bird boy, let’s go then.”
Hawks groaned, “for the love of God, stop calling me that! It’s so annoying.”
You just giggled, “never.”
Hawks also did this kind of stuff for you. He just liked helping you out. You couldn’t decide if it was because of him being a hero, or if he was just a nice person.
“You know,” he siad in a seemingly careless tone, “I could always fly us there. I know your running late, so let me give you a lift.”
You looked him up and down skeptically, “Hmmm, and if I fall?”
Hawks just smiled at you, “I’ll just catch you.”
You rolled your eyes at his cheesy line, but checking the time you realized how late you really were. 
You gave him a playful huff, “Fine, but I swear if you drop me, I will-”
But Hawks put his hands up, seemingly defending himself, “Wow there! I promise you, on my  hero’s name I will not drop you.”
You gave him a snarky smile, “Fine birdboy, lets go.”
Hawks frowned at the nickname, “Will you ever stop calling me that?”
You giggled, “nope.”
Hawks just sighed, “Alright then… I’m gonna have to hold you.”
You just rolled your eyes, “Wow Hawks, I didn’t think about that. Don't make it weird, we’ve been friends for years.” 
Hawks nodded. picking you up carefully, he positioned you bridal style in his arms. You held tightly onto his neck.
“Seriously, I’m a pro hero, I’m not gonna drop you,” he said laughing a little as well.
“Whatever, lets go I’m already so late.”
“Ohhh, someones snarky.”
But before you could retorte, he took off.
For all your complaining you really did trust Hawks, you knew he wouldn’t drop you. He was a pro hero after all. But being launched in the air would freak anyone out at first. You tried to shrink into Hawks, thinking maybe that would make you feel more safe. He seemed to pick up on this and gave you a reassuring squeeze.
At first, you were terrified. And also super mad, he took off with out telling you!
But then you realized how beautiful the world was from so high in the air. The sun seemed to make everything angelic. And everything looked so small, like you were watching the world from far in the clouds. And the wind. The wind didn’t feel harsh, in fact it felt inviting. The whole scene was enough to take your breath away.
You turned to tell Hawks how amazing it was, to tell you how thankful you were. 
But your words died in your throat.
Hawks looked… like an angel.
He wasn’t looking at you, instead he was looking ahead, his expression was one you had never seen before. It was one of pure relaxation, and just prue freedom. The sunlight didn’t bounce off his face, it seemed like his face absorbed it. The way his face shone almost made you want to look away, and yet you couldn’t. His lips formed a purely happy smile. His hair looked beautiful, flowing in the wind and shining like the sun. 
But his eyes.
It was his eyes that made your words die in your throat.
They seemed to shone with pure intensity, pure adoration, pure angelic beauty. 
He looked so heavenly.
When he finally noticed you looking at him, he just gave you a smile. 
A bright, stunning, beautiful smile that made your heart race and your face go red.
And it wasn’t just how he looked, it was his vibe too. He made you feel safe, like you could put your heart in his hand and he would protect it with his life. You realized how amazing your best friend really was. He was so calming and… warm. He just felt good.
And that's how you caught feelings for your best friend.
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You were so pathetic.
Of course you were gonna turn the other guy down. But your dumb brain thought that maybe, maybe there was a chance that Hawks would tell you no. That you should be with him and not this other guy. But he didn’t. And although you were loathed to admit it, you saw that coming.
When this guy told you about his feelings, you honestly didn’t really know what to say in the moment. But then you came up with this stupid plan, and here you are, hurt and alone.
Every time you even so much as thought of getting into a relationship with someone else you felt as though you couldn’t. Because you would just end up comparing them to him. No one could make you laugh as hard, no one could put you more at ease, no one was captivating enough to steal your attention.
You sighed, your back hitting the wall. 
“I should probably go eat,” you said to yourself.
but just then your phone buzzed, your eyes widened at the I.D.
It was Hawks, sometimes you could swear the man was physic.
Hawks: hey you doing anything for lunch tomorrow??
You smiled but rolled your eyes, sometimes the man only thought with his stomach. You couldn’t count the amount of chicken he would buy.
You: probably not 
You: why did you have something in mind birdboy??
Hawks: I literally only have wings
Hawks: I’m not a freaken bird
You giggled to yourself, Hawks seemed to never fail to make you laugh. Even when you felt like shit.
You: you sure about that bud
You: bc I could count the amount of bird shit you’ve done in my presence
Hawks: wow 
Hawks: here I was about to ask you to go out for lunch tomorrow 
Hawks: but I guess you don’t want a free meal ;)
This was something very regular between the two of you. Your lunch break matched up with his, so you two almost always ended up going out. He would also take you out to dinner on special occasions.
You: only if your paying
Hawks: wow y/n
Hawks: didn’t know you were a sell out
You just huffed.
You: last time I checked your the pro hero
You: your the one that has like an ass load of cash
You: so yeah
You: your paying 
You: :)
Hawks. …
Hawks: ok I’ll give you that
Hawks: so you're down??
You bit your lip. 
When you first realized your feelings for Hawks, you tried to push him away. You tired not hanging out with him so much. Trying to save yourself from feeling your heart ache inside.But it was so hard, you were like a moth and Hawks was your flame.
So, whenever he asked you to hang out, it was impossible for you to say no.
You: I’ll see you there :)
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Woooooow the dramaaaaa!
Ok but for real, I really enjoy writing the series! So I really hope you enjoy this too :)
I have the draft for part 3 so don’t worry, It will probably come soon. But again, with this series I like taking my time. 
Thank you again!
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kyber-crystal · 4 years
Text
department of matchmaking || s.r
summary: in which you’re asked by aunt may to babysit peter while she’s away at a business conference & steve tags along. peter, being the innocent smol bean he is, tries to get you and the Captain together.
words: ~3.1k
warnings: none, just fluff & a little matchmaking spider-man :) and OH steve’s blue jacket heheh. tony’s your dad in this oop cant resist a stark child. shhh CW never happened bc i’m still in denial 
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Peter: Aunt May says she has a couple errands to run so she won't be back until later this afternoon. Can you pick me up? School just ended.
You: Of course!
Peter: Ned and I are planning on building the Lego Death Star tonight. I know you're a sucker for building stuff :)
You: You know me so well, kiddo. I'm definitely in. How could I miss out on our weekly date nights?
Peter: You're the best! See you soon
You: See you!
"Where are you going?"
"May's busy, so I gotta go pick Peter up from school," you explained to Steve as you slung your purse over your shoulder and grabbed the keys to your (Tony's) Audi, sliding your sunglasses on. "We're having one of our weekly Friday movie nights, and he and Ned just got a new Lego set that they want me to help construct. You wanna come along?"
"Sure, I don't mind."
You headed outside to the car together, sticking the keys into the ignition as Steve slid in next to you in the passenger's seat. "I hope you don't have anything else planned for the rest of tonight. We might be there for a while...I know we were gonna see that new action movie in theaters tomorrow. I'm sorry."
"Nope, no plans," he smiled, "I'm free for the rest of this weekend. As long as I get to spend time with you, it's okay."
You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a bit at his words. 
But you quickly brushed the thought off, knowing the last thing you were supposed to do was fall for someone after you'd just gotten over a nasty breakup.
Soon enough, you pulled up in front of Midtown High School and saw Peter standing with Ned by the curb. You rolled the window down and called out to them. "Hey, boys. Need a ride?"
"My favorite Avenger! Hi!" Ned greeted as he and Peter got into the backseat, strapping their seatbelts on.
"Ouch, I'm offended," Steve placed a hand over his chest and pretended to look hurt. "I thought I was your favorite?"
"Captain America! It's an honor!" he exclaimed. "I've heard so much about you from Peter!"
"Oh, really? I hope he only told you good things?" the super-soldier chuckled.
"Yup!"
"So, how was school?" you glanced back at the two teenagers from the rearview mirror. "Anything interesting happen?"
"No, except they actually served something edible in the cafeteria for lunch today," Peter rolled his eyes. "Which is a first."
You sighed, placing your hand back on the wheel, "School food isn't the best thing ever."
"So uh, I have a question," Ned spoke up as you headed down the street, "are you and Y/N a...thing? ‘Cause I hear a lot of fans are speculating that the kickass agent and America’s golden boy are dating."
"What? No," you and Steve replied in unison, exchanging a knowing look before bursting into laughter. "No."
"Okay..."
It was mostly quiet for the rest of the car ride back to the apartment. Peter pulled out the keys from his jacket pocket and slid it in the lock, pushing the door open and gesturing for the rest of you to come inside.
"So," he breathed out, setting his backpack down by the front door and dusting his hands off. You sat around the sofa together, glancing at the massive Lego set on the coffee table. "Here it is, in all its glory."
"How many pieces is this?" Steve questioned, looking at it in shock.
"Almost 4000."
A buzzing sound from his phone made Peter look down, swiping a few times before unlocking it and scanning over the new notification.
"May has an overnight business conference and she won't be back until tomorrow evening. She wants you to babysit," he explained as he looked up at you.
"Fine by me," you shrugged. "Cap?"
"Sure, why not."
"But I'm 15 and 8 months! I'm not a baby."
"Well, kiddo, I'm 28 and Tony treats me like a baby even though I’m not a baby anymore. Steve's going on 32, and acts like he's 12."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"I do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"Arguing like a married couple," Peter coughed, and Ned wiggled his eyebrows up and down. "Cute."
"For the last time, we're not a thing," you let out an exasperated sigh, but felt a blush creep up your cheeks as you spoke.
Two hours later you were a little over halfway done with building the Death Star, and fatigue was beginning to catch up with you after you neglected your sleep schedule and pulled three all-nighters in a row bingeing Netflix with Sam.
You let out a yawn as you flipped through the instructions pamphlet, stretching your arms up in the air.
"You tired?" Steve asked. You were too tired to respond, simply leaning into him and closing your eyes.
"You can take her to the guest room. Straight down the hall, then turn right," Peter said as he noticed you'd now fallen asleep on him. "We can continue this after dinner."
Steve scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you down the hall, pushing the door to the guest room open with one hand before carefully setting you down on the bed, tucking you in.
"Sleep tight," he whispered, a ghost of a smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss your forehead and left.
"Ahem. Now that she's gone," Ned cleared his throat, "time to plan on how we're supposed to get our OTP together!"
"Ned, really-"
"You should ask her out, Cap. I see the way you look at her," Peter raised an eyebrow at him, "I mean, it's clear to everyone how you feel about her, and the way she feels about you. Sam sees it, Mr. Stark sees it, heck, I think May has her suspicions as well because she wouldn't stop talking about how great of a couple you two would be over dinner last night-"
"Look, Peter, I don't think she's ready for a relationship."
"Why not?"
"She just broke up with her boyfriend two months ago. I doubt she'd be willing to date again."
"But you're her best friend! You're literally the perfect man for her!"
"It doesn't matter. I'm not taking advantage of someone when they're vulnerable. That isn't right."
He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest and kicking his feet up against the coffee table, tossing a spare Lego piece up and down in one hand. "Yeah, I totally believe the great Captain America isn't in love with the great Y/N."
"She's my friend. A teammate."
"Friends with benefits!" Ned chimed in. Steve made a face at this. "No, not like that. I mean that as in, you guys do all the things that regular couples do, except you're not officially a couple. And I think that's big enough of an indication that you should get together for real."
"I'm just waiting for the right time."
"AHA!" both boys shouted. "So you are in love with her!"
"Keep it down!" he scolded. "She's asleep!"
"You didn't deny it this time..."
"Fine, whatever. What do you guys want for dinner? I'll go pick it up."
"Pizza."
"If Y/N asks where I am, just tell her I went to go get the food."
"Okay."
As soon as the door shut behind Steve, Peter and Ned's heads immediately whipped over and they faced each other, exchanging evil grins.
"Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" Ned practically squealed.
"Yeah, I'm thinking what you're thinking!"
"Romantic dinner and movie night setup!" both boys whooped and hollered.
"I'll light the candles and get the napkins. May always keeps a stock of scented ones when Y/N comes over because she loves the smell of cherry blossoms."
"...I'll grab the rose petals and tablecloth."
"Rose petals?"
"Mind if I tear apart the flower on your desk?"
"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. Also, the regular tall candles are in the cabinet below the sink in the bathroom."
"Yessir."
Twenty minutes later, Steve came back with the pizza in hand, setting the keys on the counter and closing the door, stopping dead in his tracks as he observed the scene before him.
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"What is going on?"
"We set up a date night for you two because we know you've been working hard this past week and deserved to relax," Peter explained happily. "So, here you go!"
"Peter," Steve sighed, rubbing his forehead, "I appreciate your effort, but Y/N isn't ready for a relationship and neither one of us has feelings for the other."
"But you guys deserve a break! After working nonstop you should at least rest or something."
"Alright, alright. I'll go get Y/N. You guys set the pizza on the plates for everyone, okay?"
"Got it."
You yawned and rubbed your eyes, then stretched your arms up into the air, skidding to a halt as you observed the sight before you.
“Wh...what’s going on?”
Peter and Ned grinned from where they sat on the couch, paper plates on their laps. “We thought you deserved a nice break, so we set up a little something for you guys!”
“A romantic dinner? Why...”
"It looks pretty and gives off a relaxing mood. Why else?” Peter laughed nervously. “Now eat!”
“Okay...” you started growing suspicious, but didn’t question it, “alright, then.”
You fell into an awkward silence after that, aside from the occasional sound of silverware clinking against plates and drink glasses being set back down on the table. The atmosphere felt heavier than before and you couldn’t help but wonder what it was. 
“So, uh...how have you been holding up?” Steve asked you tentatively. He knew the topic of your ex-boyfriend was still that of a rather sensitive one - you’d come storming through the elevator doors and gulped down half a bottle of vodka (you never drank, so this had everyone genuinely worried), before heading upstairs and taking a forty-five minute shower, then afterwards, proceeded to lock yourself in your room for the rest of the afternoon. 
When you wouldn’t come down for dinner, he had to carry up your food to you and when you refused to eat, he was the one to force-feed you. When you suddenly broke down sobbing when he asked you if you were alright, he was the one who held you in your arms. He was the one who got you out of bed to bring you downstairs for some fresh air and to interact with the others, and not once during the time he was having to take care of you for, did he question any of your behavior. You were hurting and that was all that mattered. If you were hurting, he was hurting, too.
“It’s been a rough eight weeks...” you sighed, rubbing your forehead with one hand as you took a sip of wine. “Could be better, but...I’m alright. I just wish I could’ve seen that coming from the moment I went on that blind date with him.”
“What do you mean?” Steve was confused - you’d never mentioned any details of your relationship, you were a very private person, for that matter. You rarely ever opened up to anyone. “I thought you were...”
“Happy? Hell no, I don’t even know why I stayed,” you scoffed as you took another swing of your drink. “It was so easy to fall into a routine. There was this gaping hole in my heart, and...I needed it to be filled somehow. Then Agent Williams comes along, a seemingly perfect new SHIELD recruit, almost everything a girl could possibly want in a man standing right in front of me...how could I not fall for his façade? I didn’t realize it was doomed from the start until about a week into the relationship...but I held my tongue. I knew if I dared to speak up against him, he’d somehow manage to use my words against me, twist everything I said into a whole new lie...he manipulated me, day after day...yet I still didn’t leave because I genuinely believed he’d change. 
“But I was wrong. I was naïve, I stayed because I was so desperate to experience true happiness that I went as far as to stay with someone I knew would do a number on my mental health in the long run. I shouldn’t have been surprised when I walked into HQs one day to drop stuff of for Coulson, to see Williams on top of someone else...in the gym. In the gym...of all places. I only didn’t blast him because I didn’t want to destroy Fury’s property. So I slapped him and left. That’s it. This whole...fling, or whatever the hell you want to call this shitty relationship, lasted only twenty-six days before everything fell apart. God, I’m so stupid - I should’ve known. I was so stupid, I’m such a horrible person for doing what-”
Steve felt his blood boil with anger. Williams had cheated on you - that’s why you’d broken up. All this time he’d been thinking that you simply fell out of love, or maybe ended it on friendlier terms - when in fact, it was anything but.
Nobody deserved to be treated this way, especially you. I could treat you much better, he thought to himself.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he said softly, reaching a hand up to wipe the stray tears that fell from your eyes. Instead of letting his hand fall back at his side right away, he let it linger there for a moment, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. The feeling sent electricity up his fingers. “It’s not your fault. You’re not a bad person...he is.”
“Shit, I think our plan’s backfiring,” Peter hissed into Ned’s ear as they watched the scene unfold from the couch. “What the fuck, Ned!”
“Shh! Hold on, they’re having a really deep conversation. Let them be for a second.”
“I was stupid enough to stay, when he was giving off all the wrong signs...I should’ve listened to Tony and Nat. They knew. They knew from the moment we first got together, but I didn’t listen...”
“It’s okay. You didn’t know any better,” he reassured you, absentmindedly taking your hand in his and rubbing circles across your palm, “you just wanted to be happy. To experience that feeling that came along with being in a relationship. Frankly, I think I would’ve done the same thing.”
“And what makes me feel even worse,” your voice caught in your throat as you spoke, “...were my true intentions of staying. I wanted to be happy, I really did. But I realized I’d never achieve that with someone like him...in a way, I was using him too, I guess. Not for my personal gain or anything, not to boost my social status, like he did...he always made a point of walking around and declaring that he had an Avenger girlfriend. But...”
“But what?”
“I knew if I was in a relationship with someone, that’d prevent me from thinking about being with anyone else. Well...that plan failed...horribly.”
“...What are you saying?”
“Of course, I didn’t figure that out until not long ago...but yeah. The heart wants what it wants...and it didn’t want him.”
“Then who was it?”
Your gaze flickered down to your now-intertwined fingers. You hesitated for a moment before speaking again. “...I think you know who it is, Steve.”
“See!” Ned kicked Peter in the shin as he was in the middle of finishing off his second slice, and he winced. “It’s getting saucy!”
“Ow!” 
“I think we both know,” Steve murmured. 
You let out a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a sob. “I don’t know why I tried pursuing a relationship that wouldn’t fulfill me in the long run. I should’ve known it was you all along, huh? You know me like the back of your hand. For Odin’s sake, you remembered every detail of my SHIELD file, my favorite color, my exact birth date, everything there is to know about me. It’s always been you-”
“...It broke my heart to see you with someone who wasn’t me,” he said quietly.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to feel like I was meddling in your love life. I know you hate it when people do that.”
“Steve-”
“I knew you weren’t as happy as you let on. I shouldn’t have stayed silent...I should’ve at least said something. I was terrified to speak up, thinking that you wouldn’t reciprocate my feelings-”
“You...you what?”
“Yeah,” he chuckled lightly, “I’m in love with you.”
Peter let out a squeak. Ned chucked a pillow at him, a giddy look on his face.
“Good news,” you laughed, “because I’m in love with you too.”
“FINALLY!” Ned whooped, unable to contain his excitement for any longer. He and Peter exchanged a fist-bump. “FINALLY FINALLY FINALLY! I can’t believe our ship finally sailed! Though I gotta be honest, I had no idea pizza could bring out people’s true feelings like that.”
“We’re geniuses!” Peter squealed, pulling out his phone.. “Oh, wait until Mr. Stark hears about this!”
Your eyes widened in realization. “Peter, don’t you dare c-”
Too late. A buzzing sound came from your phone, alerting you of a new notification, and you unlocked it to see a text from your father. 
Mr. Stank😡: Took you long enough, honey. I expect a grandchild soon.
Mr. Stank😡: But I’m gonna be honest, I wouldn’t want any other man for you than Capsicle himself.
You let out a loud groan, shoving your phone back into your purse. “Oh, come on.”
A buzzing sound came from Steve’s phone as well, and he took it out of his pocket to take a look. 
Stark: You better not knock her up until after you get married and then leave. I learned that lesson too late. I’m being serious when I’m telling you to treat her right - she hasn’t been the same since her mother walked out all those years ago. You make her happy, though, so I won’t try to intervene.
Stark: But if you hurt her in any way, I’ll break your face. Capiche?
Steve: ...Capiche.
“Ooh! I just got a promotion for telling him about you guys!” Peter clasped his hands together. “I’m joining you on your next group mission!”
“That’s great, Peter!” you congratulated, “but...why would he give you a promotion for...this?”
“Because he’s been waiting for this to happen for the longest time! Oh and also, your food’s getting cold.”
“We could just reheat it. Or...if you guys are still hungry, do you want to go to Olive Garden?” Steve looked over at the two teenage boys. 
“YES.”
“Y/N, what about you?”
“It’s a date,” you winked. You let out a small laugh upon seeing his cheeks flush red.
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wastelandcth · 4 years
Text
love somebody - cth
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this is based on three anon requests I got in the past week so I hope you guys enjoy! used this video and this song as inspo! 
anon: could i request an angsty fic with cal? i’ve been watching that live performance of ghost of you where he’s in that gucci shirt and supposedly crying during the song, maybe before the show he and his gf get into a fight over facetime cuz she’s back home in LA and he says smth he doesn’t mean & he tries to take it back but she hangs up so during the song he gets emotional thinking they’re gonna breakup but after the concert he checks his phone and sees an i love you text and they’re gonna be okay
anon: i loooooved your angst piece !!! could you write another one omg it tore my heartstrings but have a happy ending bc i can’t take that much heartbreak maybe another fight a breakdown whatever idk i just loved ur piece
anon: Okay yay!🥰 I'd really love if you could do love somebody-lauv with calum(obviously, we're all hoes) 🥰 if it can be like he's the one hurting her, even better lmao
Calum's hand were shaking when he walked onto the stage. He wasn't nervous about the show, the large crowds didn't bother him anymore. He hadn't been nervous for a show in years, no, his hands were shaking because he didn't know what he would be walking off stage too. He didn't know if she'd still be there after the show. His mind was busy running over endless scenarios as the show started, the only reminder that he was on stage as he went on autopilot was the vibrations of the drums on his feet. Even during his speech before he sang Amnesia, his mind felt like it was miles away in Los Angeles with her. 
It had been a stupid fight, something that had just snapped and before he knew it, he was spewing meaningless insults at her. She wanted more from him and he knew he was capable of giving her everything she wanted and more. Hell, Calum would give her the moon if it was possible. But he always did this, he pushed people away whenever they got to close to him. So he snapped, he reminded her that she was the one who had hesitated with their relationship in the first place, that she was the one to blame for the distance that was currently between them. By the time he realized the words that had left him, she had already hung up their facetime call. He tried calling her back, but before she could answer, which Calum hoped she would've, he was being dragged towards the stage to start the show. 
Calum had met her after one of their Friends of Friends shows. She had been hanging out by the bar talking to one of her friends which had finished performing a while ago, both of them laughing and chatting over the loud music playing around them. She had introduced herself and had complimented his leather jacket, giving him props for being able to wear it inside the stuffy club and still look so good. If Calum hadn't been so busy the rest of the night, hosting and playing the band, he might've caught the way she kept stealing glances at him throughout the show. And if she hadn't been so busy nursing the strong drink her friend had gotten her, she would've realized that Calum had been searching for her in the crowd until the club was empty and he was walking out onto the empty streets. He didn't expect himself to end up at the food truck a few blocks away, but it was funny how fate worked because the second he saw her standing in line their eyes met. They exchanged numbers that night and a few weeks later Calum stood at her doorstep, asking her to take the next step and be something more than just friends.
She had been hesitant, telling him that it was something she would have to think about. She had her heart broken many times before and she wasn't sure getting into a relationship with Calum was something she could handle. He had respected her decision, telling her to take her time to think about them and that if she just wanted to be friends, Calum was more than happy to oblige. A few days later, she had shown up at his doorstep in the middle of the night, his hair was messy from sleep and his tired eyes widened as she pulled him into a kiss under the moon. Calum swore it was the best kiss he'd ever had, it made him feel like he was on cloud nine, and every time they kissed afterward, he still felt the same. 
Standing on stage in front of thousands of people had always been something that brought Calum joy, it was the dream and he was living it out every night. But tonight was different, tonight Calum looked out onto the crowd and he couldn't help the heaviness in his heart. He missed her and he had a feeling that he had ruined a good thing over nothing. Maybe it was too good to be true, maybe the fact that he was finally happy and in love with someone was too good for the universe to believe in so he had to open his big mouth and ruin it. He was going to get home from tour next week and be met with an empty house and he'd sleep in an empty bed. 
Panic set into his heart as he thought about her leaving. His hands started to shake again, his mind no longer on autopilot as he heard Luke talking about Ghost of You. His mind was suddenly aware of all the people watching him. He stepped closer to the mic as his solo neared. He'd never had a hard time connected with the songs they sang every night. He'd helped write them, so it wasn't hard for him to relate to them. But tonight, Calum's throat felt tight as he sang out the words. He was on stage living his dream and all he wanted to know was if she was at home with tears running down her cheeks as she packed a bag to leave him. It was hard for him or anyone else to ignore the tears that ran down his cheeks as he sang or how his voice cracked when he sang out his feelings on stage 'too dumb to know things like love'. Even as he closed his eyes and leaned his head back, listening to Luke play the final notes on the piano, Calum couldn't help but let out a shaky breath and step off the stage to take a quick breather. He was grateful that the guys didn't mention him stepping off, even more, grateful when they stalled the crowd so he could control his tears. 
The rest of the concert was a blur to him, his body-switching back onto autopilot and before he knew it, he was playing along to the last song of the night. He was anxious to get off of the stage, to run back to the dressing room and check his phone, to try and stop whatever doomed relationship he'd caused. So as the lights turned out on stage, he ran off the second the tech had his bass in his hands. Sweat was running down his body as he entered the room, his eyes landing on his Duke phone case, he wasn't sure if he was even prepared to open his phone, to start a conversation he wasn't sure he could have over the phone. He also didn't know if he was prepared to see her face with tears running down her cheeks. But he also couldn't wait to talk to her, to apologize for being an idiot and pushing her away. Calum picked up the phone and chills ran down his body. Her name had popped up, a missed call, and a few text messages from her. With a shaky finger, Calum unlocked his phone and clicked on the message, a small laugh leaving his body as his nerves left him. It was a simple message, but it flooded him with relief and Calum didn't realize his body was so tense until he leaned against the counter and rubbed his face. I love you. All he wanted was to love her, to cherish her, and make her the happiest she could be. It's all she ever made Calum feel and he wanted to do everything to make her feel the same. Rereading the text message from her, Calum took a deep breath and clicked her number, waiting for her to answer so he could say the words he had been thinking on stage all night. 
"I hurt you and I'm sorry. But all I want is to love you." 
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Text
Criminally in Love
An analogical fic by yours truly
Logan and Virgil are roommates and dumb idiots (I know what I said) who are obviously in love but too oblivious to realize the feeling is mutual. Now let's rob them of their earthly possessions shall we?
Virgil is non binary with two different eye colors bc why not
Potential triggers : suffocation and attempted murder. (if I missed anything don't hesitate to lmk )
Enjoy!
It had been a quiet night at first. Two friends sat on opposite ends of the couch trying not to seem contemplative. The one on the right was a tall, calculating man with black squared glasses and hair that was tinted blue as a result of lost bet.The one on the right hair that was tinted blue as result of lost bet.If one were to look close, they would see purple hair and dark eyeshadow framing mismatched eyes.Eyes the person in question hated, but the man opposite of them could get lost in if given the chance.
 
Of course, he'd never admit it out loud. If he did, the whole place would go into chaos and comfortable nights like this would be lost. This was his only neutral. The only way to maintain his relationship with his best friend. He had to keep these thoughts to himself. He had to keep himself at arms length and watch what he said. It was overall exhausting, but ultimately worth it.
 
" Hey Lo?" His thoughts were interrupted by the figure to his right. He looked up at them and found both blue and green eyes staring up at him smiling softly.
 
"Yes Virgil?"
 
"I'm gonna head on up to bed, ok?"
 
"Of course, don't let me stop you. I'll see you in the morning then?"
 
"Yea, you will."
 
And just like that, Virgil stood up, stretched, and walked upstairs to their room down the hall from Logan's.
 
Seeing that there was nothing keeping him downstairs alone he decided that the best course of action would be to go to sleep himself. Standing up, he went and shut off the lights, making his way towards the stairs. As he walked up, step by step he couldn't help but feel as though something were off in his small, shared house. Mentally checking through everything he locked and shut off, he concluded that he was just tired and paranoid. All the more reason to get to bed, he thought, making his way up the stairs again.
 
Finally arriving at the top of the stairs, he was faced with a door brandishing a purple storm cloud and lightning. Logan smiled, thinking back on the day he helped Virgil paint the door. It may have taken 3 weeks of accidental peeks of bare skin, but Virgil found the door completely worth it, and that's all that Logan cared about.
 
Finally returning to the present, he gave a small knock on the door and entered upon hearing a small voice saying 'come in'. The room was painted all black with different Halloween decorations scattered around the room. (But it's the middle of March, why do you need so many bags of spider web? Because, Logan, it's my aesthetic.) He looked over at the Nightmare Before Christmas comforter and smiled, repeating a phrase he said every night.
 
"I'm going to head to bed myself, feel free to wake me up in case of anything."
 
To which Virgil giggled and said their reply:
 
"Why, would I do that when you clearly need your beauty sleep?"
 
Both friends laughed lightly and waved goodnight, not daring to break the tension. It was always like this. Every night. Everyday. All the time. It was as though they were trapped in a time vertex and every time they came close to confessing, it would start over. They were prisoners to their own feelings and insecurities. Forever in the friend zone, never to make a move. It was almost pathetic the way they let their fears control them. But it was all they had. And it's all they needed.
 
___________________
 
It was a loud crash that awoke Logan a few hours later. He sat straight up and looked around, finding his room incredibly still. He closed his eyes and listened for anything unordinary. There was a muffled shuffling of feet coming from down the hall but Logan was unsure if it was actually Virgil or not. I'm sure there's no harm in finding out, he reasoned.
 
Crawling out of bed he noticed the bathroom window was opened and his anxiety had spiked. Virgil never opened windows in the middle of the night as it was too cold. Realization finally dawning on him, he ran to the next room, accidentally hitting something behind the door that let out a loud 'oomph'.
 
Quickly, he ran to the light switch and turned the light on, revealing two masked figures, one on the floor and the other on top of Virgil, holding a pillow over his face. Upon seeing the attempted murder, Logan ran over to the bed and pushed the black clad intruder off of Virgil and punched them square in the jaw. Attempting to keep them further away from Virgil as possible, he went over to the figure on the floor and attempted to restrain him. On the bed, Virgil let out a deep gasp, attempting to get as much air as possible. Finally catching their breath, they addressed their roommate on the floor
 
"Logan wha-"
 
"Virgil call the police, now!"
 
Scrabbling to get to the phone as soon as possible, they nearly tripped over the other intruder on the floor, hitting him on the head harder than intended. It was as though they were in a movie scene and everything around them was life or death, causing a spike in anxiety and urgency.
 
It was about another 20 minutes until the police arrived and took both intruders into custody. The two roommates on the other hand stood leaning on a police car, both giving their statements of the incident. Afterwards, both of them looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say next, the tension once again surfacing in their eyes. Surprisingly enough, it was Virgil who broke the silence.
 
"Uhm, thank you, for the uh-, well the-, um, for saving my life."
 
Logan nodded, "Are you alright?"
 
"Yeah I'm ok, although my throat does hurt. I'll be fine in the morning."
 
A new silence fell upon them. Logan, more frustrated now than before decided to be the first to speak this time.
 
"Are you going to be okay in your own room? I know you kind of had an unpleasant experience right now-"
 
"I'll be fine. I might just feel a bit uneasy after tonight, one never knows when they're about to be attacked." They said, their voice dropping low along with their head, attempting to avoid eye contact. Logan lifted their head to meet his, and looked at them in their beautiful eyes. Virgil held their breath, trying not to break the tension or the bubble,they should say, that both friends tried to maintain.
"I will always watch over you, this I swear Virgil. "
They let out a laugh that came out more like a huff, and looked down again before looking back at Logan's deep brown eyes.
"You really think I'm worth so much fuss?"
"Every bit of it, and more," he paused, hesitating before deciding to continue, "Virgil, you mean the moon to me, and I don't ever want to lose you. Every atom and molecule in my body screams out to you unlike anyone else I've ever known. At first I couldn't place the feeling since it hurt as much as it felt good, but I figured it out and," he paused again, trying to think rationally about it. But he couldn't continue to just stay friends with the smaller figure before him, so he had to say it.
"Virgil Storm, I believe that I've fallen head over heels in love with you, and I must certainly do not intend to get back up."
Both friends were silent, not knowing what to say. The bubble was finally broken and feelings were out in the open. Virgil looked down at their feet, tears forming in their eyes as they tried to figure out what was supposed to come next. Confusion and uncertainty filled their mind as they went through everything that could possibly go wrong. Yet for some reason, a voice in the back of their head told him to stop. That nothing will go wrong because they loved Logan too. The voice that said that just loving each other was enough for now, and that they could worry about everything else later because now they knew, Logan loved them too.
They looked up at Logan and saw the absolute great in his eyes after their long pause. Virgil couldn't help but feel bad but they knew that Logan understood that they needed the time to work through their feelings and come to the conclusion that they did. Thats why they work so well together, because Logan understood and Virgil took the precautions needed to understand everything that was going on. They smiled as they looked back into the dark chocolate swirls that were Logan's eyes and finally gave him the answer he was waiting for.
"Logan Crofters, I'm in love with you too, and I don't plan on doing anything to change that."
And with that, they cupped Logan's face, bringing it closer to them and put their foreheads together. The two of them stayed there for a while, closing their eyes and basking in the bliss of newfound love and cherishing the moment of just being there, and never being alone again.
 Tag List:
@periwinklepost-its
@myhorriblepropeladdiction @thefluffyotter33
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ari-shipping-stuff · 4 years
Text
Nuts and Volts Week
Day One
Modern AU
———
never thought this would be my first post lmao
just note, if any of the characters in these oneshots are ooc, please don't hurt me bc it's definitely my first time writing them
Please enjoy my self-indulgent fic—
———
Arthur Watts never liked his office.
It was just… so basic. Too open. Maybe a little bright. And he had much preferred the basement. The dark, cool basement with no plastic plants, no ugly blue wallpapers.. No windows for peeping. His office, meanwhile, had all that. It wasn't even soundproof. But nonetheless, what Arthur did like was his job.
From the whirring of the gears, the clinking of steel, even when it would sometimes combust in his face. It didn't change the fact that he'd devoted his entire life into creating these machines.
Now they're going to be taken from him.
He forced his bag shut.
Ripped apart.
He gritted his teeth.
Handed over to that amateur Polendina in Atlas. His creations. Given away in mere parts. All because he testified. Now it was more than his machines he was going to lose.
Carelessly, he tossed his bag onto the glass table, hoping it would break.
He began pacing.
His shoes clacked against the perfectly polished white tiles. Cleaned this morning for the next person to work in this godforsaken office.
He stepped over several boxes, feeling too drained to even push them aside. It was as if his chest was hollow; empty. His heart gripped in the lonely hands of nothingness.
Arthur was usually a fast-paced man. Quick and efficient. Never too tired to miss any deadlines. He'd been first to finish his project out of all four competitors, giving him an extra month in the office to fiddle around and make random machines for fun. He was just so certain he'd be chosen.
But fate decided to be stupid and cruel. All his poor machines were going to take the fall now.
If there was one sentimental bone in this man's body, it would be there for the sole purpose of his work. He hated to admit he didn't want to part with these boxes or this room.
His earpiece buzzed.
"Would you quit pushing? I'd prefer you gone sooner rather than later, Arthur."
"Only my friends call me that, Cinder."
"And you have none. What's your point?"
Cinder Fall may have been an insufferable know-it-all and should have been fired instead of him, and a million different retorts could be days here. But Arthur didn't have the energy.
When she spoke again, the smirk was evident in her voice.
"I'll be sending a colleague to quicken the process. Toodles."
Arthur's jaw clenched. If only he could march into her office and give her a piece of his mind. Or a smack. Or a bullet to the mouth. Anything to shut her up, really.
There was static. Then the sound cut. It was just him and the boxes again.. And her camera in the back of the room.
Arthur sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He opened a drawer in the corner and pulled out some masking tape. Call it childish, but knowing that Cinder was watching him was.. Unnerving information.
Reaching towards the camera, he tore out a good amount of tape and covered the camera. His earpiece buzzed again.
"Arthur Watts—"
"Don't worry, Cinder, dear," Arthur smirked, falling back down to his regular height. "I'll try not to steal anything."
With that, he pulled the earpiece out and left it on the table. He turned back to the boxes.
There was a man in the doorway.
Arthur jumped back, eyebrows raised.
The man was tall, leaning leisurely against the doorframe. Stemming from his head was a long, dark braid. He fiddled with it in one hand. His smile was small, but tight and pulled back. Like he was suppressing laughter.
Arthur raised a brow, straightening himself.
"Callows," he said uncertainly. Like trying out a new word. "Right, why are you smiling?"
The grin broke across his colleague's face. He pushed himself off the doorframe, shrugging.
"Oh, nothing." he replied.
"And just how long were you standing there..?"
"Oh, not long. But.." he shook his head. "Just long enough to witness your little work of child's play there."
"I—"
"Personally, I would've broken it."
Arthur blinked at him.
Tyrian Callows was a mystery. All everyone knew about him was scarce common knowledge. Arachnologist. Entomologist. Herpetologist. Probably a serial killer in his free time. Possibly lived in his office. He might've been as work-obsessed as Arthur.
Despite this, they weren't friends. This was the first time they've spoken. Arthur found the timing of it all hilariously ironic. But now that they have finally met, he only had one thing to say—
Tyrian was an oddball. He pranced around the room, practically a child playing hopscotch. What, with his wild grin and the little 'ooh's and 'ahh's he made as he glanced into each box.
Arthur closed the door, clearing his throat.
"Cinder sent you, yes?"
"Mhm!"
Arthur blinked at the pure oddity of a man as he made himself comfortable on the glass table. Cross-legged, even.
And he remained seated.
Staring forward. Smiling calmly.
Blinking.
As you do.
Arthur cleared his throat.
"Yees, ol buddy, old pal?"
Arthur blinked.
"And you're just going to sit there."
"Apparently."
"What?"
Tyrian seemed to find this funny. He laughed. Loudly, but genuinely. Not entirely hysterical, but amused. Arthur didn't like that.
Cinder was amused when she taunted him. Ironwood was amused when Pietro Polendina stole what was his. Salem was amused as she fired him for speaking the simple truth.
Amused was mocking. Taunting. Condescending.
Tyrian doubled over, clutching his stomach. He seemed to laugh harder as Arthur glared at him, clenching his fists until there was blood between his fingernails. But he held up a hand, as if to say 'wait, don't murder me yet.'
So despite how good it would feel to punch his apparent psychopath, he decided to wait.
After a few whole minutes of laughter, it finally managed to cease. Tyrian let out a contented sigh, as if stuffed from a hearty meal.
Arthur crossed his arms and tapped his good impatiently.
"Well?" he raised an eyebrow.
Tyrian perked up, confused for a second.
"Wh-what? Oh. Right. That." he chuckled.
He uncrossed his legs, propping his elbows on his knees. He even steepled his fingers, for God's sake.
"You see, Dr. Watts, I get it."
Arthur waited.
".. You.. Get it."
"See, now you're getting it!" Tyrian clapped his hands together joyfully.
Arthur furrowed his brows at his colleague. Was this a joke? If he stared at Tyrian like this long enough, would he laugh it off, apologize, and finally explain properly? Maybe even turn sane as a bonus?
But when he started to smile and stare again, Arthur found his answer.
He didn't like it.
"I have had enough of you, Callows!" he snarled, jabbing a finger at Tyrian's chest. "Just give me a straight, coherent answer! If not, you're free to leave. It's clear you've no intention to help anyways."
Tyrian slumped, a blank expression on his face.
"So.. You don't want to cherish the time you have left with your machines?"
Arthur's posture faltered. He lowered his finger slightly.
"Wh-what?"
Tyrian shrugged, fiddling with his fingers.
"Well, I'd assumed you loved your job as much as I love mine," he paused, tapping his index fingers together. "So I also assumed you wouldn't want to part with your little machines for as long as possible."
Arthur put down his finger.
"I mean, I wouldn't want to part with Larry." Tyrian continued.
"Larry."
"My oldest scorpion. Lost his tail four weeks ago. He'll be gone in seven months without it now."
"Oh.."
"Yeah."
".. I'm sorry about that."
"Thanks. No need."
Now it was Arthur's turn to stare.
Tyrian shrugged twice. After a pause, he spoke up again.
"Fall, Rainart, even young Emerald and Mercury all have ulterior motives to accomplish once they joined this laboratory. But.. You and I, we genuinely enjoy what we do here. You love making your little machines, and I love my little venomous animals down in the basement."
Arthur hated to admit it. He really did. But somehow, this hysterical man-child really did get it.
He finally relaxed, deciding to speak up this time.
".. Venomous animals, you say?"
"Mhm!"
"Interesting. I don't suppose you could tell me all about it while we slowly.. move out the boxes?"
"Really?"
"Yes, of course. But please, do take your time."
Tyrian hopped off the table, saluting joyfully.
Arthur picked up the box closest to his feet, a smile playing on his lips. He turned the knob, about to open the door. But then he frowned.
"Wait, you own the basement?"
———
aight, so.. if you liked this, yay! bc this is gonna be the universe i'm writing in for the rest of the week!
thanks for reading my trash—
- ari
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springwritess · 5 years
Text
mr.cook | sanji vinsmoke
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anime: one piece
word count: long, but not as long as zoro’s
note: im going to write mini fics for each strawhat (including my boy jimbe hopefully) which is gonna be a zombie apocalypse au. not all of them will be romantic bc some characters are hard to write romantically. i doubt you’d really fall for someone you just met right? anyway either luffy or usopp is gonna be next.
tags: zombie apocalypse, sanji fluff, cooking, hunger, dehydration, sanji being the dork he is, recruitment (sorta)
****
The hunger was ever-present; from dawn to dusk it gnawed at you. Food was your constant obsession. You couldn't look at an animal or plant and wonder if it was edible. You didn't care if the food was tasty, just as long as it could make the stomach pains go away for awhile.
You sat there still, like an elderly person. You started to wonder whether you were going to die from starvation or from the zombies. You were too tired to move, or do anything really. You ran out of water and there was no fresh water source. It was only time for your death to approach. You couldn't even sleep either, because sleeping meant a chance for zombies to attack and devour you alive.
You were in the middle of the forest. You were camping in there after being driven out of your home. You took what you could find and left the city as fast as possible. You needed to get away from people as much as possible. Staying alive was horrible, you ran out of the food you stole from the city. You didn't possess the abilities or tools to be able to hunt or cook animals. You were such a shifty cook that you didn’t know how to make fucking tea. You couldn't stay there forever however. You needed to get off the island soon. Your stomach rumbled again.
First however, you needed food.
There was a crunch of leaves and twigs behind you. Each footstep crackled. There was someone coming. You dove behind a tree that was close by. You grabbed a large stick. It wasn't much of a weapon, but it was enough to try and knock the person out to steal their food. You closed your eyes and waited for them to draw near. Each step felt like a ripple in the ground.
You jumped out behind the tree and lunged forward. It was a blonde-haired man who was idly walking by. You attempted to land a strike across his cheek, but he jumped back. You tried again, but he dodged it. He was fast on his feet.
“What's going on?" He asked as he continued to dodge all of your attacks. "I don't want to fight a women."
"Give...me your food!" You growled as your grip tightened on the stick.
You lurched forward again and landed a blow across his left cheek. The man fell to the ground. He didn't get up after that. You ripped the bag off his shoulders and shifted through it. Your pupils dilated.
"No..." You said with a hint of panic in your voice.
You went through it again, this time your hands were fumbling. Your fingers jumped rhythmically, as if in a spasm. Your bowels suddenly churned. Please let there be food in there, you prayed. This couldn't happen...not now. Your heart was in your mouth. You couldn't speak.
“No! No! No!" This time you said it much louder, "please...I just need food."
Your heard some shifting and then a grunt come from behind you. Blood drained from your face as you turned your head around. The man was getting up. He took a cigarette box and a lighter from his breast pocket. He lit a cigarette and placed it in his mouth.
You grabbed the stick and gripped your two hands on it. You held it up in the air in front of you. You glared at him.
"S-stay...a-away or I'll hurt you!" You warned. Your hands were shaking as you fumbled on your words.
He took a breath and smoke floated up into the sky. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're hungry right? I'll make you something. I'll never let someone stay hungry."
You felt your stomach grumble again. "Liar! Y-you're going to kill me!"
He gave you a grin. “I'll never hurt a women. That's what a shitty old men taught me."
Your stomach rumbled again, this time loud enough for him to hear it. You fell to the ground and clutched your stomach. It felt as if someone pierced your stomach with a sword. "It hurts....I'm going to die."
He ran over to you. You didn't have the energy to run away. "Shit...you're malnourished and dehydrated. Is there no fresh water source here?"
You didn't have the energy to answer him, so you simply shook your head. He picked you up with his arms and started to run through the forest. You had no energy to protest or push him off. You were barely conscious at this point too, as the trees were starting to become a blur too.
After what seemed like forever, you started to smell cologne mixed with the smell of cigarettes. Your eyes fluttered open. You were still in the forest, but instead in a part that wasn’t covered in trees. There were no creatures around. The light from the sun hit your skin. Your eyes shifted to the side. You were laying on a black jacket. Ah so that’s where the smell was coming from.
You sat up. Your throat was extremely dry too. Your stomach was still hurting, but you ignored the pain. You looked around and the man was nowhere to be seen. You weren’t in any mood to talk to him anyway.
Your lips were cracked from dehydration. Your hair was matted with dirt and your clothes were were smeared with grass stains and dirt. You looked terrible. You needed a shower and some fresh clothes. You felt the bottom of your lip quiver. Will this be your new life? You no longer had the same luxuries you used to have. You took them for granted, and you only realized how lucky you were when they were gone.
You laid back down and turned to the side. You couldn’t afford to cry, because that would just make you even more dehydrated. Drowsiness overtook you. You closed your eyes and eventually fell asleep.
***
You were greeted with a sweet, savoury aroma that wafted through the air as you started to wake up again. The smell mixed in with the fragrance trees and grass. Your stomach clenched with hunger at the thought of devouring whatever food that was creating the smell.
You sat up and saw the blonde man making stew using ingredients from the forest, plants and animals you’ve seen before. He somehow was able to find bowls to give pour your stew in. You stated at him for awhile, transfixed by his ability to cut various vegetables and plants. He was so swift with his fingers.
He removed the cigarette from his mouth and exhaled the soft tendrils of smoke. His gaze shifted to you. The man gave you a smile.
“I’m so glad you’re awake.” He said softly. He came cover with a bowl of water. “I’m glad I had utensils and bowls in my bag. The water is still hot too because I boiled it. Please be careful.”
You moved the bowl of water around. The water swished back and forth. There was steam floating from it. It was definitely still hot. You sniffed the bowl of water. There didn’t seem to be any poison. Immediately after examining it, you guzzled down the water within mere seconds. You ignored your throbbing lips and your throat which felt like it was on fire. You sighed in relief. It was nice.
He finally handed you a bowl of stew. Taking in the sweet aroma, your stomach rumbled again. Every part of you wanted to lurch forward and devour the bowl. You couldn’t however. It didn’t feel right. You clenched your fists.
You spoke up. “I don’t understand.”
The man raised his eyebrows. “You don’t understand what?”
“Why are you doing this for me?” You asked again. This time with your voice shaking. “Why are you helping a complete stranger? I don’t know your name. I don’t know where you’re from or who you are. I..I don’t have any money if that’s what you want.”
He took the cigarette out of his mouth and breathed out. “My name is Sanji. I’m a cook on a ship. I already told you. It’s because I can never ignore someone is hungry. I don’t need money from you, so you can eat up. Besides....”
“Besides what?”
He gave you a smile. “Your cute face is enough of a payment for me.”
You rolled your eyes but felt a smile creep up onto your face. “Thank you Sanji.”
You ate your food in silence. You quickly finished it in mere minutes, but you were too embarrassed to ask for more. Much to your surprise, Sanji took your bowl and filled it up to the top. He handed it to you. He lit up another cigarette and sat next to you silently. Your cheeks flushed up in embarrassment.
You cleared your throat. “Aren’t you going to eat to. I’m fine really...”
Sanji shook his head. “I’m fine. I ate before I came to this island. I also have a few questions about it, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Oh sure. Also I didn’t introduce myself yet. My name is (f/n). I worked as a mechanic in my mother’s shop. It was apart of the family business.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly. “I’m not the greatest cook, so you saved my life. Thank you so much. I’ll help you with anything you need.” You said. You gave him an awkward smile.
“What’s happening on this island? The city I was just in, it was a wreck. Did something happen? I was also attacked by a group of people. I need answers. I was separated from my crew too, so I also need a map.”
The smile from your face immediately vanished. You managed to forget about everything that happened for awhile, but the reality didn’t change.
“A group of pirates brought this virus to the island. Their crewmate was dumped here. He was rushed to the hospital.” You explained. “He survived, but the virus seemed to induce range and the need for human meat. He bit the nurse that was treating him and she started to act the same. I’m not sure, but I think the virus probably travels through saliva.”
“They’re like zombies, but still alive?” He chucked. “They aren’t as smart as the ones on Thriller Bark.”
You cocked your head in confusion. “What? You aren’t scared?”
Sanji shook his head. “I have a damn skeleton who can walk, talk, eat and even take a shit on my ship. There’s nothing that surprises me anymore.”
Your eyes narrowed. You weren’t sure if he was joking or not. The Grandline is full of surprises, so anything could happen. Speaking of which, why was this man traveling on the Grandline? Is his boat a restaurant ship that floats around by any chance.
“What kind of ship do you work on..?”
“A pirate ship.”
Your stomach dropped. Of course. He’s a pirate. You felt anger churn deep within you. A pirate was the one who destroyed this island. You tried your best to ignore it. He did save your life. Perhaps he wasn’t like the others.
“What about you? Why are you here in the forest? Where’s your mom?” He asked.
You were silent for a moment. “She died three years ago. After she passed, I took over the business. My shop is probably rubble right now.”
“That’s a shame. Do you want to go take a look to see if there’s anything left? There must be something.” He asked.
You shook your head and chuckled. “It’s whatever I guess. I gotta get used to how I’m living now.” You got up from where you were sitting. “Also, I should have a map in my bag. Let me go check.”
You got up and went to grab your bag. There were mostly essentials: empty water bottle, first aid kit, a change of clothes. You let out a grunt. There was no map in sight.
“Sorry about the map. I don’t seem to have any.” You rubbed the back of your head sheepishly.
“It’s fine.” Sanji stood up and stretched. “We should get going then.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Going where?”
“To your home of course. Seeing it might give you a sense of relief. You’ll never regret not taking the chance to see if there was anything there.” He replied. He lit another cigarette into his mouth.
You were at a loss for words. “I...”
“Hmm?”
You shook your head. “I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Even if I do get a sense of closure from seeing my home, where would I go?” You bit the bottom of your lip to stop from crying and took a deep breath, “I have nobody left. I don’t have a ship nor do I have the skills to travel to another island. I also don’t trust you. You’re a pirate. What if you try to hurt me?”
The tears splashed forth and trickled down your cheeks. The thought of your home in rubble and the memories of your mother came flooding into your head all at once. You tried to quickly wiped your tears away, but they kept coming.
“Shit I’m crying. I’m sorry about that.” You chuckled.
Sanji gave you a smile. “It’s okay to cry. Everyone cries. I also won’t lay a finger on you.” He looked up into the sky. “Regarding your future, it’s up to you. You can do whatever you want. I won’t try to stop you (f/n).”
Hearing him call you by your name caught you off guard. You got up. “Let’s get going then Sanji.”
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dis-pose-able-blog · 5 years
Text
Blue moon- vmin
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Note: So hi? I was listening to 4 o'clock and well remembered that it was written based off of Jimin and then I like properly appreciated the lyrics once again because is a beautiful song and well I was like hey, why not write a one-shot based off of it... so I did and I ended up enjoying what I'd written (kind of) and well I wanted to publish it but it's a one-shot and I have no idea where to do so bc I'm too lazy to make a one-shot book :")
anywhore.... here's my one-shot based off of 4 o'clock and spring day! It's unrevised and fresh from my mind's womb! Enjoy!
-- -- -- --
I took a deep breath as the cold clawed its way throughout my body, and released it with the faintest rolling of steam slipping past my lips; the time I was unsure of though the moon was up yet I seemed to be the only soul risen with it.
My fingers numbed with the moonlight breeze, though that letter I wrote so long ago now was still firmly gripped between my fingers, it was for someone - someone I no longer have, I planned to read it to them though missed my chance and I've simply written a long, long letter to the moon. It was merely a corrupted file now for the mood could never equal that whom it was intended for - he shone brighter than the moon; everyone saw that but himself and I vaguely remember him whispering, on one of the last occasions in meeting him, that he was 'nothing more than a small lit candle in a life full of chandeliers' and I felt my face contort in almost anger yet the molten tear that radiated down my cheek, freezing my heart even more, told me all I felt was nothing but sadness toward the boy who'd sold his soul to the moon.
With a gruff weakness I wiped away the tears from my face and stood, allowing my feet to wander; my mind seeming to become confused between itself and the appendages for it began to wonder, tripping up and landing upon a desert - its once beautiful seas draining out through my eyes, washing a mirage of an oasis of happiness upon it whenever someone asks "how are you holding up?" with that condescending rub of the arm and a head tilt with that stupid tone of voice - I hate it!
I was so caught up in my thoughts, the brewing sand-storm halting at the sound of a song. Was it a bird song? That sound? Just simply a nameless bird calling out into the dark? Crying for its baby to fly back into the safe embrace of its delicately crafted fortress of a nest? Or was it you? Was it that voice I'd heard once upon a dream? Could it possibly that voice that brings a red-hot desire to see you once more each step I take this?
I found myself taking another step, one after another - I was running toward that voice, for it was more than just a nameless bird singing; so I followed it into the deep, into the ocean of darkness.
One step, another step. My grip tightening around the paper, the cold numbing being but something I ignored for I longed to see your brightness once again and I found myself stumbling into a park - one from when we were younger, happier... or were you never truly happy?
The sweet melody of your voice took me deeper into the darkness though I still couldn't find you. "Where are you?" My voice cracked and crumbled into the ground beneath my feet. "You?" My heart lurched and fluttered, I was pretty sure for a moment that repetitive thumping of it came to a complete halt upon the sight of you before me, swinging backwards and forwards shaded by the blue of moonlight, humming to yourself a tune of your own and it carried out into the night as if you were a siren calling sailors to their peril.
He's still as ethereal as ever, if not even more so- the way the light cascaded down upon him, he possessed none of his usual traits, however. His tan skin had been bleached into a radiant blue-white and his deep rose lips had been kissed with hues of navy and his once black hair had been stripped into a tincture of chalk white and there was something empty about his once full eyes - he was before me and yet something in him was lost.
"Why are you crying?" he turned to me and asked, though the oceans in his shaded eyes made me wonder too why he was crying - he'd gotten his wish and left. He did this; ran off and followed the stories of children of the moon; like Wendy, Peter and Micheal flying off to Neverland... except for this time he can't fly back. The window had been shut. Locked. Bricked up and he did it to himself.
I shook my head with a frown, running to his now standing figure, embracing him the comforting smell I'd begged my nose to remember hitting me in a strong wave, the welcoming arms and once warm, now cold, cage he'd delicately caught me in causing my heart to burn and shake and my eyes to drain the last of the oceans of my mind and I sobbed into his neck and he into mine.
"Why do you cry?" He repeated through sobs. "You and I are the only ones here - like it used to be - like you wanted! Me and you! So why do you cry?" his muffled cry of pain vibrated against my skin as my breath tried to catch up with me.
"You've been gone too long, Jimin! You left me! I loved you and you left me!" I screamed back, our voices creating a chorus of agony "You left us! I - we needed you and you left!" I tried to collect my shattered self, though the dim moonlight hindered me from putting the house of cards back together.
It remained quiet on his part, words seemingly caught in his throat as I choked out the words I'd been wanting to tell him since the day he left, I shoved the letter into his chest "read it when you miss us" I muttered, seated on another bench, though I hadn't realised we'd moved, I found myself leaning down and resting my head upon his lap, stray tears seeping out of my eyes as his fingers carded through my hair, that tune from earlier arising in his throat, a self-made backing track accompanying his words.
"Tae, I loved you, I did - do, even... Blaming yourself... don't do that. I had my reasons but you were not one of them i -"
"So what were they, Jimin?" I interjected, earning a flick to the forehead.
"Don't interrupt me, I'm older than you remember" we both half chuckled, a bittersweet exchange, however, it was refreshing - hearing his laugh for the first time, in person, after almost two years was beautiful. It was the only sound I could never get tired of and was something I never wanted him to stop doing. "Some things are best left unsaid, I had reasons and only I am to blame for my actions, don't let your heart freeze over, it's far too beautiful for that."
"So was yours and yet... you destroyed it. You did this, Jimin alas other people were also to hold accountable! You can't always blame yourself for the things that go wrong" I sighed, playing with the hand he'd rested upon my stomach "you put so much pressure upon yourself - destroy your mind with a self-made poison and it does nothing but brew trouble! You think I didn't notice how certain comments affected you, you think I didn't understand - that I'd reject you if you told me everything you felt, you thought that by putting on a brave facade that those thoughts, comments, judgments were hidden... well, they weren't! Not from me anyway! I knew it all! I should've helped you!" I gritted out through my teeth, looking up at him and sighing when I saw that lopsided half smiled he'd do and my eyes watered yet again, my mouth opening to speak yet again, though he silenced me with a small kiss - a tiny peck, a gesture that was reassuring yes though it seemed alien it'd been that long; my heart abducted and replaced with butterflies and fireworks just like it had the first time we kissed. He began to stroke my head again, causing me to shut my eyes and bask in the beauty and comfort brought to me under the blue the light of the moon shaded me with.
"I miss you." He started, his voice soft and broken "I didn't want to hurt you but I did, I came to apologise - to ease the pain, I came to erase the hurt and anger, to find closure and let go and yet I can't really let you go yet, Tae" he whispered "do you hate me for it? Would you rather forget my existence for leaving?" I stopped playing with his hand and looked to him.
"Yeah, I hate you; you left me, Jimin." I scoffed "But, the two years you've been gone? I've never stopped thinking about you and I don't plan to." I continued to play with his hand before linking them together "other people drove you into leaving-"
"Tae, it was my decision." He frowned, squeezing my hand "you keep passing blame and -"
"Because, Jimin! It hurts less than to blame you! Every day I want to see you, speak to you, you're my best friend, yet you're not there, you're gone and there's a hole in my entire existence now that you've gone and blaming you only seems to put salt on the wound and not only does it hurts but it makes me bitter toward you" my voice softened, looking to the man so our eyes were locked "and I can't bring myself to hate someone like you, Jimin. You're too... Jimin!"
There was an empty laughter, one that resonated in my heart, he sounded so pained, so broken that I recalled him using the same one just before he died. Looking up to the stars, he let out a breath before running his hands through my hair yet again, that tune from earlier bubbling up through his throat, this time in words, and out into the sky, a lullaby to the moon, a lullaby to me, a warning of the close coming pass of dawn.
You know it all, you're my best friend.
The sun will rise again;
no darkness, no season can last forever.
And, once the moon had fallen to sleep and the sun rose to suffocate my being, I sat up with a strangled, cold cry clawing throughout my body upon this dusty bench in a park somewhere just beside the city, the blue shade that'd been cast over me disappearing "J-Ji-Jimin! Please - don't leave me! Don't leave me again!" I said, trying to grab onto the soft hand stroking my hair.
"I'm sorry." It took one disgustingly warm ray of sunlight to wipe out the silhouette of the moon child before me, one final injection of UV rays to strip me of my Jimin once again.
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adelmortescryche · 6 years
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R u ready cuz i got me a LIST. I'll send prompts in separate asks and if u don't like any feel free to disregard! First off is Victuuri, with "I'm not very good with commitment, or soulmates, or love." Preferably said by Yuuri bc i l o v e angst. A lot.
hah, can i just say that i was fcking delighted to get this one with Yuuri being the one to say the line. i mean, as i mentioned before, i’d have had yuuri say it either way, but then i registered that that was exactly what you wanted anyway. such a lovely coincidence. this turned out fluffier than expected, but hey, it’s still mildly angsty.
an explanation in advance, if it isn’t obvious: soulmates live their lives in this ‘verse with sensory deprivation of some sort. so they’re all actually impaired to a certain extent until they meet their soulmates. soulmates don’t necessarily have to be romantic or stay together. guess what side of the argument these two dorks are on.
In response to this post. salty soulmate prompts ftw.
Victor supposed that he should have seen this coming. He’d spent his entire adult life wondering what taste was, read books about flavor and food, and stared at cooking shows, wondering if food was really more than just aesthetic appreciation and matter being shoveled in for energy and nutrition. Whether there was actually someone out there, a destined someone who would who would bring flavor and taste into his life like a tidal wave. He’d heard Chris think about smell in the same way until he’d met his dashing mystery man, too - if it was real, if something as mundane as the way things smelt was worth the hype.
The first thing he’d done in the aftermath was drag Chris into a flower shop. And had weathered the teasing about being a pathetic romantic while Chris all but buried his face in a vase full of lilies.
So, yes. He should have seen this coming. He’d spent enough years as a precocious teen scoffing at the thought of something as ridiculous as fate and a soulmate deciding anything about his life. He’d spent many more as a lonely adult thinking that it might not be that bad, having someone promised to you so soundly. He should have seen this coming. 
Yuuri, for his part, just looked uncomfortable. And maybe a little tired, eyes just a bit puffy and red. His fingers were tight around the edge of his door, holding it in place like a shield to hold Victor at bay. Ridiculous. As if Victor needed anything of the sort to keep him back when Yuuri-
“Sorry. I’m just… not very good with commitment. Or soulmates. Or love. We had this discussion already, Victor, I’m-”
Not good with people, Yuuri had said. Not good with relationships, casual or otherwise. Just not comfortable with social interaction outside the bare minimum at all. Funny how Victor had assumed that meant people who weren’t soulmates. Relationships that didn’t involve him. Because he was- because Yuuri was-
“Sorry.” Yuuri repeated, and slammed the door shut in his face.
 *
“You look like you need a drink.”
He blinked muzzily down at the table, then forced himself to lift his head enough to peer up at the red clad form kneeling on the other side of the table from him.
Ah. It had gotten rather quiet, hadn’t it.
“Sorry, I’ll go back up,” he mumbled, a few more blinks making it easier to recognize the form as Mari. Yuuri’s older sister.
She just shook her head, though, gesturing for Victor to stay where he was, then proceeded to settle into a more loose-limbed crosslegged posture. It took a little longer for the situation to compute, but when it did, Victor’s head drooped a little lower. 
“You heard us.” It wasn’t a question.
“Aa. You were very quiet, but…” she shrugged, unapologetic, and Victor had to give a tired laugh. Fantastic. Obviously he shouldn’t have brought the topic up at the inn. But it was either the inn or the rink, or the walk between the two. Or assorted restaurants that Yuuri had been willing to introduce him to. If nothing else, the inn had been more private than the other options.
They were silent for a moment of companionable silence, long enough that Victor suddenly found himself wondering if Mari had met her soulmate yet. What her take on the topic was. Yuuri had made his stance very clear, but that didn’t mean all the Katsukis felt the same way.
“My brother… he isn’t shy.”
Mari’s words were blunt. Abruptly so. They made Victor blink again, confused, but she barged on before he could actually understand what she meant.
“He isn’t shy, but people make him uneasy. People who want his time make him break. Ah, I mean-” she paused, looking irritable, but Victor nodded slowly in response, willing to take her at face value. Even if the thought of Yuuri breaking made something sick settle at the bottom of his gut.
“He gets very uneasy, when he does not know what someone wants. It is always better to tell him what you want.”
Victor frowns at that, and wants to argue that that was exactly what he’d done. He’d come clean. He’d said that flavors had bloomed in his mouth only after he’d met Yuuri. He’d even left himself open to hurt, and said that he was happy that Yuuri was the one to return his missing sense to him. How much clearer could a man get?
Mari just looked vaguely exasperated, though. Maybe a little long-suffering. She was older than him, Victor remembered distantly. It had been so long since he’d had peers who were older than him that actually mattered.
“You want that drink?” she asked.
Victor shook his head.
“Then you sleep. Go. And talk to my idiot brother in the morning. Oyasumi.”
“Oyasumi,” Victor parroted dumbly, watching as she pushed herself to her feet and walked away. Not sure if he should take issue with the appellation, then deciding that if anyone had the right to call Yuuri an idiot, it was his older sister.
By the time he got himself to his room, Makka was already curled up and half asleep on top of the covers. The sight makes him pause by the door, an odd smile pulling taut across his face. Even when Makka lifting her head to stare at him questioningly, wondering why he hadn’t already gotten into bed already, didn’t erase the smile from his lips.
Well. He still had Makka, didn’t he. This didn’t change anything. Yuuri didn’t change anything. Soulmates didn’t change anything. He could still try coaching for an year, be thankful for the break and actually enjoy eating food.
So what if he’d been right all along, as a teen. His seventeen year old self would probably laugh to see how far he’d fallen.
Makka whined, and Victor stepped into the room, the action a reflex more than anything else. Her stare was enough to get him switch off the one lamp that was still lit, and get under the covers without much more thought.
“You’re more disapproving than a mother with a teenager under her roof,” Victor muttered into the curls topping her head, once she’d flopped down on top of him, all but burying him beneath herself. 
No response, but then, he’d never needed one, from Makkachin. He could always tell when she wanted him around. Now if only Yuuri were that easy to re-
A cool, dry nose nudged at the hollow of his throat, sudden enough that he almost yelped in surprise. When he pulled back, he found Makka staring up at him accusingly. It had him bursting into snickers that he promptly buried into her fur, much to her sleepy irritation. Not that she protested. She never did.
Okay, then. Sleep. Actual sleep, without working himself into the ground thinking about Yuuri, or fate or anything else that was liable to leave him awake through the night. He was a coach now, after all. And if his student was avoiding him… Well, then he’d just meet his student halfway. Soulmate or not.
*
A few days down the line proved early on that Yuuri was not an easy man to meet halfway. Not when he seemed stubborn and embarrassed enough that he was doing his literal best to skedaddle whenever Victor got anywhere near close enough to ask to talk.
It was enough to drive a man crazy. Especially when Mari slowly went from looking exasperating to commiserating to amused. Hiroko and Toshiya weren’t of any help either, clearly just as amused as their daughter, and while Minako was kind enough to split bottles of sake and plum wine with him, but she wasn’t kind enough to not laugh at his plight.
“You seem to be doing something right, at least. Yuuri sure as hell wouldn’t act like this with a coach.” Minako crowed, while Victor knocked back the last dregs of whatever had been left in the flask before them.
“It’s not like it helps. He won’t even talk to me!” he snapped back, and immediately regretted it. A friendly listening ear aside, Minako was still Yuuri’s old ballet teacher. Lilia would probably smile with perfect poise in a similar situation, all the while plotting to murder anyone badmouthing her students.
Minako, thankfully, just laughed some more, and patted him roughly on the back. Hiroko, in the process of bringing out yet another bottle of wine, most likely for Minako because Victor was stopping while he was ahead, reached out to pat him on the shoulder, murmuring something in Japanese that just made Minako laugh even harder. Victor wasn’t sure if he wanted to know or not.
The mean glint in Minako’s eyes told him that he was really better off not knowing.
A clatter near the entryway had Victor glancing that way reflexively, only to find Yuuri in the process of leaving, most likely for an evening run. Yuuri barely met his eyes for a split second before he dashed away, though. It was barely a surprise at this point.
“See? That’s not how he’d treat a coach. I should know, I’ve been his teacher since he was a tiny kid. Hell, I stood in for a coach a whole lot when he’d been a kid, too.”
Victor’s not sure how it matters, when the equation there was so different from whatever was getting built between him and Yuuri. Maybe that was where he was supposed to start in that talk. Mari though he should tell Yuuri what he wanted, but… that didn’t seem to be helping at all. Maybe he should just ask what Yuuri wanted instead.
Something of the frustration brewing in his head must have shown on his face, because Minako nearly cackled. And proceeded to fill his ochoko with another shot of sake.
“Drink up, boy, clearly you’re going to need it. And then maybe you can consider going on a run to catch up with Yuuri-kun.”
“Maybe,” Victor agreed, the smile on his face a lot more plastic than it had been in a while. No way in hell was he going to go chasing after Yuuri. Not only could he set a terrifying pace when he was focused, Victor suspected that trying to catch up with him after that momentary traded glance earlier would backfire a lot more than any other attempts he’d made so far.
So no. Maybe he could try to catch him at the rink in the morning. He felt safer near the ice, right. That’s what Nishigori and Yuuko had implied, at any rate.
Well, Victor could say the same. Neutral ground! Maybe that would help, if nothing else did. Honestly, he didn’t even care as much about soulmates any longer, not after the last few days he’d been through. No, fate and destiny could go fuck themselves, all he wanted was Yuuri, acting normal again. His fledgling student, the fellow competitor who’d managed to sweep his heart away well before Victor even registered that he’d returned his missing sense as well, the man whom Victor had slowly begun to realize would be a worthy friend to have, too, aside from everything else.
Morning. The ice rink. It was on.
*
“…Victor, are you sure you’re feeling okay?”
Victor, in the process of getting his skates off, eyes hard in his head, started in surprise. When he regained enough control to look back at Yuuko, who’d managed to sneak up on him when he’d been busy knocking the ice off of his blades, she just looked more alarmed than her voice had suggested.
The expression did little to soothe his ire, but he did take the time to offer her a smile. It’s not her fault that her friend is starting to feel roughly as stubborn and bratty as Yura. Victor was tempted to shove that in Yuuri’s face, just to see how he’d react to it. 
“It’s nothing, we’ll be taking a break today, i think.” he replied, smile firmly pasted in place, and Yuuko stared at him for an uncomfortably long moment before finally coughing out a laugh.
“Don’t be too hard on him. Yuuri isn’t shy, he’s just-”
“Really not good with people. Yes, thank you, I’ve figured that out now.” Victor completed cheerfully, something in him very tempted to drop the smiles to the wayside just this once, because he was tired, damnit, but Yuuko didn’t deserve the vitriol buried beneath them, just waiting to be unleashed. 
She looked uncomfortably knowing when she waved him out of the rink, all the same. 
Cycling back to the inn in the cold air managed to cool him down somewhat, enough so that he’s relatively calm by the time he’s kicking his shoes off in the genkan and trading them in for his own pair of indoor slippers.
He runs into Mari when he’s heading up the stair, and she only needs a single glance at his face before she lips tugged apart in a delighted smirk.
“Finally,” she declared, sounding aggrieved. “Do you have any idea how irritating the two of you have been these past few days. Please go tell him what you want from him so he can stop hiding in his covers.”
“Thanks, Mari,” Victor replied pleasantly, not bothering to correct her, and somehow that just made her smirk broaden. She didn’t say any more, though, instead continuing down the stairs without giving him any grief.
By the time he gets Yuuri’s door open to drag him out to the beach, he’d almost completely managed to convince himself that he’ll be okay with however this is going to end. Even if everyone else seemed to have their own opinions about what’s going to happen. 
*
“-and even if I couldn’t actually feel her arms around me back then, something about that situation left me with a bad taste in my mouth. I just- shoved her away. Because she was making assumptions about what I was feeling, and was forcing her emotions on me… It’s never been something I’ve been comfortable with. I need space, Victor. To just exist, maybe to figure out what I want. And no one I’ve been with in even the flimsiest of a relationship till now seems to understand that, outside of my family and friends, here. I’m not weak.”
And so the unease about commitment. And love. And soulmates. Victor tightened his grip around Makkachin involuntarily, only relaxing it when she whined, confused. 
Yuuri sounded exhausted, and vehement, almost like the words he’s said had been clawing at his throat ever since they’d stopped talking to each other.
“No one thinks you’re weak, Yuuri. I certainly don’t. This entire time, all I’ve wanted was to ask you what you wanted out of this. I said that I’m certain we’re soulmates, but that doesn’t have to mean anything more that you want it to. Did you want me to be a father figure to you? A sibling, a friend, a lover-” Victor paused when Yuuri’s hand abruptly reached out to cover his mouth. 
When he looked over to the side, Yuuri’s face was flushed enough that it bordered on unhealthy. He seemed determined, though. So Victor waited, curious.
The next thing he knew, Yuuri was standing up and bowing, at a perfectly formal 90 degrees, arms steady at his sides. It’s enough to make Victor fumble in place, eyes going wide, but before he could say anything, Yuuri was speaking, Japanese spilling smoothly past his lips, in a stream fast enough that Victor had no chance of understanding any of it. It wasn’t much, only a sentence, but at the end of it, Yuuri eased off on the bow enough that Victor could see his face again. And the small, impish smile playing on his lips, too.
“Pleased to meet you, thank you for returning my tactile sense.” He said, this time around in English, and Victor choked on a surprised laugh, delight budding bright in his chest.
“Yuuri-”
Yuuri just cleared his throat rather pointedly, though, and Victor sighed, smiling a little helplessly as he pushed himself to his feet. 
“Pleased to meet you, thank you for returning my sense of taste.”
“There. That was better.” Yuuri said, actually laughing out loud when Victor rolled his eyes good-naturedly.
They stayed on the beach for longer, simply walking by the water, throwing a ball for Makka whenever she got bored, segueing into more casual topics of conversation, even discussing what it felt like to have a sense returned to them. Apparently Yuuri had been stuck in bed for weeks because of how bad the pain had been for him, years of ballet and figure skating without any tactile sensation finally catching up with him. Victor had cringed at the thought, in turn offering up photos of all the different food combinations and cuisines he’d taken to trying out once he had a fully functioning sense of taste.
It wasn’t until they were ready to leave that Yuuri slowed down to say that he didn’t want Victor to be anything but himself. Because Victor the Person, his coach and possibly his friend, was at least a little more important than whatever had destined for them to be soulmates.
It’s enough to make Victor think, if only for a split second, that he’s very relieved that Yuuri was the person that had been destined for him after all.
*
A few months down the line and Victor’s tackling Yuuri to the ice, heedless of the screams and the lights and sound of thousands of camera shutters flashing, hellbent on smothering him in kisses. He’s still not sure if that’s more because Yuuri was his soulmate or because Yuuri was Yuuri, and Yuuri was never going to stop surprising him, but by that point, Victor really couldn’t care less.
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eeveedel · 7 years
Note
Alex roughly eating louis that I'm all I'm sayin . Just a thought . I dunno . I haven't seen Dunkirk yet I'm gonna of spoilers
@celebratinglouis u send me the nastiest shit but also thank u. 
this is just…it’s porn. it’s angst and porn and feminization kink and poor coping mechanisms. also it’s written in like three different tenses. listen, I’m sorry. I hope you like it anyways, bc this is a concept I could write…more of. Also a few Dunkirk spoilers! 
————-
The train spewed steam, hot and compressed, behind him, and Alex still found the ability to push forward.
He hurt, and he couldn’t even identify where. His ears were ringing, and he’s only now noticing it. He thought his neck and his head might hurt, but then again, his wrist and his ankle might, too. It’s just everywhere. His eyes stung even though he was just asleep, his mouth tasted like warm beer and warmer water.
He blinked, and brought his hand up to his eyes, his other hand tightening on the strap of his pack. There’s no sunlight in the station, but he still feels like he should lift his hand, get a better view.
He’s standing there on the platform, three dimensions, full color. He’s wearing nearly the exact same thing he wore to the station the first time, the grey trousers and the brown braces and the big, open pale blue jumper that’s gotten paler, bordering on grey.
He’s the most beautiful thing Alex has ever seen. He’s the only beautiful thing he’s seen in a while.
Alex forced himself to take a few more steps, until he’s right there in front of him and he has to tilt his head down a bit to get a good look at him.
“Hi,” Louis said, and his voice was the same, raspy and Northern and soft, and Alex wanted to wrap him up in his arms and kiss him, dip him, spin him around like some of the other boys and their birds get to do.
But instead he just swallowed back the stiffness in his throat as Louis looked back at him carefully.
“Come on,” he said, “I’ll get you home,”
***
The flat was the same, which is to say small and dirty, partly because both of them hate cleaning but mostly because it’s a place that was built dirty and will be destroyed dirty. Louis changed the sheets on their bed, and the bathroom at least looked decent. He offered to run Alex a bath but he refused, and instead used up the warm water they could spare filling the tub. Then he stripped down, leaving his dirt and oil soaked uniform on the tile floor. There was still oil and sand in his hair, around his nails, enough he wonders if it’ll ever wash out. He wonders how Louis could bear to kiss him once the door was closed.
When he pulled himself out of the bath, he saw that Louis had set out some clothes on the bed already, a pair set of drawers and an undershirt with the paper ribbon still on it, a starched overshirt folded neatly over top of it. Alex pushes the overshirt aside and just goes for the under things. He won’t be going out for a while.
He went back out to the kitchen, then, fully prepared to sit down at the table or to first fruitlessly offer to help Louis with something. But as soon as he was in the kitchen he stopped in the doorway, almost didn’t want to breath, just wanted to stay there and remember this, exactly, forever.
Louis was standing at the stove, the gas of the machine thick and hot in the air. There was a small carton of eggs next to his elbow, behind that, a paper bag of bread. His hair is the same, soft and getting too long, his lips poked out as he cuts a razor thin slice of butter into the pan.
He was wearing his slip. The silk ladies’ night slip that someone at the corner store probably still thought Alex bought for some bird. It looked beautiful on him, it always has, even if the silk is wore and the lace over his chest looked stiff and wrinkled and a little yellow. The slip fell to Louis’s knees, the thin straps clinging to the knobby bones of his shoulders, the rest of the fabric skimming over his waist, his hips.
He was thin. He’s always been little, but he’s thin, now, some of his softness chipped away by long nights and civilian rations. His knuckles stuck out a bit, his fingers look delicate while he cracked the eggs in the pan, lifted a fork to break them up.
“How long’s it been since you’ve had real eggs?” he asked. It took Alex a minute to answer. He can see every bone rotating in Louis’s wrist.
“A fair while,”
“You’ll get sick of them soon. Probably get sick of bread sooner,”
“I’m already tired of it,”
“Then we’re off to a good start,” Louis murmured. He pushed the eggs around, the bottoms sticking to congeal the pan and sticking.
Alex breathed in deeply and went over to him, then, putting his hands on him the second he could. He pulled the cool, slippery fabric of the slip up, got his hands on the swell of Louis’s behind.
“Missed you, babydoll,” he murmured into his neck, and Louis huffed, pushing an elbow back.
“Not now,” he sighed, “You’ll make me burn it,”
“You’ll burn it anyways,”
Louis huffed and jabbed his elbow back again, making Alex have to jump out of the way.
“Go sit down,” Louis said, “You want tea?”
“Sure,”
“I’ll put the water on after this, then,” Louis murmurs. He lifts his hand, wiping at his forehead. There’s sweat building there from the pure heat of the stove. The thin strap of his slip falls a bit and Louis grabs it, slips it back over his shoulder.
Alex used to think Louis had the kind of face that men won wars for. He probably told him as much at the station before he left.
Now he realizes how much it takes to win wars. He’ll have to come up with a new metaphor.
When Louis served him a plate, the eggs were dry and black in places and the bread’s not much better, but the tea was good and nearly milk-less, which is how Alex’s always liked it. Louis sat across the table from him, nursing a cup of tea of his own, and Alex kept glancing up at him as he ate.
“Come closer,” he muttered at one point around the egg and bread in his mouth, and Louis just shook his head.
“You eat,” Louis said easily, “You got skinny on me while you were gone,”
Alex’s throat immediately felt thick, since Louis looked worse off than he did, but he didn’t say anything, just cast his eyes back down and pulled more food into his mouth until the plate was clear. He drank down more tea, letting the food wash down, and then he brought his head right back up.
“Now come here,” he said, and this time Louis just nodded and stood, his slip shifting and falling easily back over his body as he went over and then cast himself easily on Alex’s lap, his legs sprawled on either side of the chair, his feet pressed to the floor.
“Hope this is what you wanted,” he said, and Alex could only nod, couldn’t even bring his hands up to grip him, not when his nails still had oil in them and Louis looked so clean.
Louis’s eyes were closed and he pushed forward, pressing a soft kiss to the swell of Alex’s Adam’s apple, then moved lowering, his lips brhsing the hollow of his throat.
Alex’s hands tightened on his waist as Louis kissed him. He wanted to wash away in the feeling, but he couldn’t, not when he had barely gotten a good look at Louis’s eyes earlier.
The boy he’d met on the mole, the one he had never bothered to ask a name for, had told him after the fact that the man with the blankets was blind, that it would make no difference with whether he looked up at him or not. But people at the first station had cast their eyes down, voices had flown like razors.
Them boys don’t deserve the Royal uniforms when all they did was wait for a pick up.
Alex swallowed roughly, blinking back the burning behind his eyes, and he squeezed Louis’s waist once, enough to get his attention.
“Can you look at me?” he asked, and Louis easily lifted his head. His eyes found Alex’s immediately, and they were soft and bright, a mirror of the smile on his lips.
“What do I look like to you?” Alex asked softly, and Louis snorted and draped his arms over Alex’s shoulders.
“What, you want a compliment?” he said, still smiling, “Just need someone to tell you you’re the prettiest thing since the Crown Jewels?”
Alex tried to swallow again, but he felt his face shift and harden, making Louis frown.
“Alex,” he said softly, “What is it?”
“I did some bad things,” he managed, and Louis shook his head.
“No, you didn’t,”
“I ran away,”
“You got evacuated,”
“I could’ve stayed,”
“Yeah, and then you would’ve been brave and dead in the fucking French sand and where would that leave me, huh?” Louis asked, and pushed forward, pressing their noses together, “Did you think that through?”
Alex licked his lips, “I’m sorry,”
Louis sighed and drew back, “Listen. I don’t know what it’s like out there. I got a heart that skips too many beats that keeps me here. But I know you weren’t gonna just run away for no good reason,”
Alex swallowed hard, shook his head, “I tried to kick someone off a ship. He was French. Didn’t even do anything wrong, I just didn’t want to die,”
“That’s a reasonable thing to want,”
“That’s fucking selfish,”
“Yeah. You’re selfish, I’m selfish. I would’ve forgiven the whole army dying if you wound up safe on my doorstep,” Louis said. His voice was hard, and Alex knew he wasn’t going to win this argument, if that’s what it even was. He never won any of their arguments. Louis had soft eyes and a hard head and those were tough to compete with.
Alex shook his head again and then tilted his chin down, looking at his own lap.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, and Louis sighed and caught his fingers under Alex’s chin, making his gaze lift right back up.
“You’re home now,” he said softly, and Alex nodded.
“I know. I want to be home. I don’t want to think about that right now,”
Louis just looked at him carefully and nodded, shifting in Alex’s lap. As he moved, the strap of his slip fell down again, drooping to reveal more of his chest, a peaked, dusty nipple popping out.  He lifted his shoulder, pressing it nearly to his ear as he gripped the wrinkled silk, tried to pull it back up to cover himself. Alex caught his wrist, made Louis loosen his fingers.
“Don’t you go acting coy on me,” he said, making his voice as light as he could manage. Louis blinked, then shook his head, smiling at the change in his tone.
“How were the birds in France?” he asked, “They pretty?”
“Not as pretty as you,”
“Not what I asked,”
Alex swallowed, and then shrugged, “Sure they were. Didn’t get much more of them,”
Louis lifted his brows, tilted his head.
“Yeah? What about those eight-pagers you boys pass around?” Louis asked, “Find something you like there?”
Alex swallowed, “No,”
He’d seen them. Of course he had. They were more valued than water and yet shared far more easily. He’d wanked to a picture in one of them once, a girl with dark hair and some blue shorts and not much else. He’d just covered the top part, kept the image of flared hips and a round bum and just pictured a firm chest and a stubble-sprinkled chin over top.
He liked girls just fine. But girls weren’t Louis. Neither were other boys, for that matter. For Alex, there was just him. Just Louis.
Louis smirked, shook his head.
“You just waitin’ around for me then, huh?” Louis said, and Alex nodded, which only made Louis laugh.
“I’d forgive you if you did, you know,” Louis said, “Find a dame you like, have some fun. I’d let it go,”
“No, you wouldn’t,”
“Sure I would,” Louis smirked, in a way that meant he certainly would not, except when he was following through with what game he was playing, “Because I’m still your favorite girl, right?”
Alex blinked up at Louis, at his sharp face and his parted, dry lips and his eyes, so big on his slimmer face.
“Huh?” Louis prompted again, and then lifted his hands and pushed on his chest, the push of it creating a small line between his pectorals, peeking over the edge of his neckline, “Don’t have a great rack like the other girls do but you don’t care, do you, love? You always liked what’s on the bottom, anyways,”  
Alex licked his lips again, his throat suddenly feeling dry.
“You’d be right about that,”
“I know,” Louis smiled, then leaned forward, pushing his mouth firmly on Alex’s lax lips, “Come on then, handsome, you were all about that earlier, what’s the point of you having hands if you don’t put them to use?”
Alex lifted his hands, then, hesitating for a second. Louis gave him a sharp and expectant look, though, and then he pushed his hands forward and then back around. He gripped Louis’s bum in both hands, a thick swell under the slippery silk. Louis rolled his hips forward and Alex groaned shifting his own lap to meet him. His cock felt thick and hard in his drawers but he couldn’t get any friction on Louis, not when he was squirming around his lap.
“You got Vaseline?” he asked.
“Of course,” Louis scoffed, “You wanna be the one to go get it?”
Alex groaned, then shook his head.
“I got a better idea. Get up,”
Louis blinked at him but shifted himself, getting his feet flat on the floor and then lifting himself up until he was standing. Alex got up to, set his hands on Louis’s waist and then kicked at the chair behind him, giving them more room in front of the table. Louis’s gaze lifted, his eyes widening for just a moment before he looked back down and then turned, so his back was pressing to Alex’s front. Alex leaned forward, pressing his lips firmly to the side of Louis’s neck.
“Lean over,” he murmured, and Louis pushed himself closer to Alex’s touch but then leaned forward, setting his hands on the edge of the table. Alex pushed against the small of his back, his fingers barely getting traction against the slip.
“Yeah, come on, baby doll, show off for me,” he said, “You know you want to, wriggling around in your bed things like some call girl,”
Louis exhaled loudly and then pushed himself out, flattening his belly against the table and pushing his legs and hips out more. Alex got a hold of his hips and then roughly shoved up the back of the slip over the pale swell of Louis’s arse. His hands went right to his cheeks, then, and gave them a squeeze and then spread him out to see a tight hole and his pinkening cock and his swollen balls.
Alex lowered himself onto his knees, the tile of the kitchen biting his legs, and he nipped at the inside of Louis’s thigh. Louis yelped, high and strained, and Alex lapped over the pink mark on his leg before kissing it. He dragged his lips up the inside of his thigh, bit again at the soft swell of the underside of one cheek, which made Louis whimper a bit too loudly.
“We have neighbors,” Alex said a bit too firmly.
“I know,” Louis sighed, “Maybe they should put up with it. Nancy from upstairs got her husband back a month ago and I’ve had to listen to them try to make a baby every night since then,”
Alex laughed, pressing another kiss to Louis’s arse cheek.
“Could give you a baby if you wanted that,”
“Even if you could, I’d rather you give me whatever you’re planning back there,”
So Alex lifted his chin and pressed his mouth right to Louis’s hole, giving it a soft kiss that made the other man inhale sharply. Then he pushed in hard with the point of his tongue, keeping his lips hard and tight over the ring of muscle while he licked.
Louis twitched, his hips moving and pushing, and Alex flattened his tongue, lapping roughly a few times over his rim, keeping his hands tight on Louis’s thighs while he did. He lowered his lips, kissing the soft skin of his taint, and then lapped over the whole area, from the base of his rim to the very tops of his balls.
“Alex,” Louis exhaled, soft and sharp, “Alex, baby,”
He didn’t speak, mostly because he didn’t want to pull away. He kind of wanted to spin Louis around by his hips, get his cock in his mouth just to feel the weight of it, the way it perfectly filled his mouth without making his jaw too sore, so he could hold him in a place he could easily look up and see Louis’s face.
But when he brought his lips back to his rim, Louis gasped again, and it was enough to keep his mouth right there.
He kept his tongue pointed at firm, and he prodded at him, licking around his rim and the inside of his cheeks, then pushed straight into his hole like he was trying to open him up even without his finges. He’d flatten his tongue back out occasionally to lick broader strips over him, a few times he could put his tongue back entirely, kiss his hole and his taint and his balls. He lifted a hand, dragging it on the inside of Louis’s thigh, even reaching out to stroke at Loius’s length with his knuckles. He was hard, and leaking, and Alex’s own cock was thick and tight against his drawers, but he’d live if he could keep listening to the sweet, sweet sounds Louis kept making.
And then, suddenly, he had to pull away because Louis was crying.
“What’s wrong?” Alex asked as he got back to his feet. Louis was collapsed fully on the table, his legs shaking and his head buried into his arms, and his shoulders were quaking. Alex touched his shoulder and tried to get him to turn over, and then went easily, his face pink and wet when he was finally on his back.
Alex opened his mouth to speak, to apologize or to at least ask if he was alright, but Louis beat him to the chase.
“I love you,” Louis gasped, “I love you, you understand me?”
Again, Alex tried to speak and he cut right in.
“Don’t you dare think it would’ve been better if you hadn’t come back,” Louis said, “I don’t care if they had to haul you out, you’re here now,”
Softer, he spoke again, “You’re here now,”
Alex nodded and leaned forward, hovering right over Louis.
“How am I supposed to leave you?” Alex murmured, “Pretty face like yours is what someone can dream of coming home to,”
Louis looked up at him easily, his face still so open, so forgiving, and when Alex spoke again, his voice was in danger of cracking and he didn’t even bother trying to swallow it down.
“I love you,” he said, “You’re the only person I’m ever going to love, baby doll,”
Louis gave him one more long, long look, and then grabbed his shirtfront and tugged him forward, narrowing his eyes as he did.  
“You listen to me,” Louis said, “You go into the bedroom and find the Vaseline, and then you’re going to fuck me. Alright?”
Alex nodded, and Louis pushed his chest, enough to make him stumble back and trip over his feet as he went to the bedroom, found the tin of jelly in the top shelf of their shared dresser before he rushed right back to the kitchen, took his place in front of Louis’s easily sprawled body.
He slicked him down and held down his wrists, thrust his hips forward into him until the table quaked and the top of Louis’s slip slid all the way down, nearly to his waist. Louis cried out, loud and high, enough that if anyone heard they’d probably think he was a bird. He didn’t take him long for him to tremble and for his cock to spill all over the edge of his slip, a couple droplets slipping off his sharp hips and onto the table. It’d be a bitch to clean up, especially the cold water and scrubbing Louis would have to put into getting the slip back into shape. But Alex couldn’t even care, because he was pushing forward, spilling into Louis, making the other man groan weakly and buck back. His face was slick and pink, his hair limp.
When he opened his eyes, they were dark and far off and shifting, like the waves of a sea Alex actually wanted to remember.
Louis reached out a hand, and Alex let Louis grab the back of his neck, draw him forward, kiss his lips softly and then drag a thumb over his cheek. Alex’s throat felt tight, and when Louis pulled back, he whispered carefully, his fingertips still lingering soft on his skin.
“Welcome home, Private,” he said, “I’ll make sure you want to stay,”
494 notes · View notes
ellanainthetardis · 7 years
Note
I'm throwing this at you know, bc I know you'll give me the feels ;P Imagine a pre-THG situation with an anti-capitol attack after a Games party and Haymitch throwing himself in the line for Effie. I leave the rest to you ;)
Here you go! Some angst for you :p [X]
Stupid Reflex
“What’s the delay?” Haymitch grumbled, shiftingin his seat.
Sitting on those stone benches that formed theCity Circle was never comfortable, even in the VIP area. As it was they hadbeen waiting for the Parade to start for a good fifteen minutes now.
Effie checked her watch for the third timebetween two cheerful waves at another escort or Gamemaker. That was the thingabout the Parade… Everyone had toattend. Mentors, escorts, Gamemakers, stylists… The red carpet before theactual parade was always long and the place was crowded.
“I do notknow. We will be completely offschedule!” she admitted without departing from her smiles.
The stylists had yet to join them and theyweren’t the only team missing them. One and Two had theirs, Six and Ten toofrom what he could see… Everyone else was fidgeting on their seats, regularlycalling out to their escort or one of the Gamemakers to ask what was going on.
It had only been fifteen minutes but thosethings were usually down to the minute and he didn’t really like the obviouspatrols of Peacekeepers. In the city, Peacekeepers tended to remain in theshadow. They were there to protect not enforceunlike in the Districts. Right then though…
“I don’t like this, sweetheart…” he said, dreadcoiling in his stomach.
He wasn’t the only victor who seemed to benervous.
He caught Chaff’s eyes over the crowd and hisfriend’s face was somber.
He was about to tell Effie to stay where shewas while he sneaked down to see if someone had some information when the firstshot resonated in the Circle.
There was a second of utter stillness and thenHead Gamemaker Torello fell down and someone screamed.
Another shot and Five’s escort collapsed.
This time, everyone started screaming andrunning at the same time and it was chaos. Peacekeepers shouted instructionsthat weren’t listened to, gunshots kept booming…
Before he paused to think, Haymitch grabbedEffie’s arm and urged her toward the closest safe place he could think of: theCenter. It was chaos though, the crowd closed on them, a few people fell andwere stomped over…
Effie almost lost her footing once but he kepther up on her feet.
“Don’t go down!” he shouted. “Whatever you do,don’t…”
Someone was shot dead right next to him and thecrowd scattered. Haymitch cursed and pushed Effie toward a statue of Snow –that he would go there for cover was irony at its finest. Peacekeepers wereshooting back but there must have been more than one attacker because peoplewere dropping left and right. Not justpeople, he realized quickly, but Gamemakersand escorts…
He caught the reflection of the sun againstsomething shiny on his left and barely had time to put himself in front ofEffie. The bullet caught him in the upper chest and he would have fallen if shehadn’t caught him and half-carried him. They collapsed on the ground behind thelarge base of the statue.
“Oh my God! Oh my God!” she kept muttering, fattears rolling down her cheeks, ruining her make-up. He felt her hands roamingon his chest – not in the way he liked – tearing his shirt open… “Haymitch… Haymitch, I don’t know what to do! Stay awake! Stay…I don’t know what to do!”
She didn’t know what to do with the bloodquickly leaving his body. She had propped him against the stone of the statueand he spared a look down, a bit dazed. Notgood. Not good at all.
“Pressure.” he hissed.
“Oh! Oh, yes!”she hiccupped. She tore a generous amount of fabric from her dress and pressedit against the wound.
“Harder.” he breathed out.
It wouldn’t stop it though. He was pretty sureit was bad. Possibly dying bad.  
“That is what you say every time.” she laughedand it sounded hysterical. “I do not think you will be able to take it hard anytime soon. Why, you might have to deal with vanilla for a while…”
“Vanilla’s good.” he mumbled. “You can go ontop too.”
“You are too generous.” she deadpanned, lookingleft and right with obvious despair. “Help will come. I… I am certain Peacekeepers will come any minute.”
He could still hear gunshots in the distancethough. Whoever those people were, they had come prepared.
They were sitting ducks there.  
“Took a bullet for you.” he muttered.
“Yes. And it was very foolish.” she snapped, wiping her eyes on her forearm. Shelost a fake eyelash in the process. The hand that was pressing fabric on hischest was shaking. “I am grateful but it was very foolish.”
“Need to get away.” he forced himself to say.It hurt to talk and his sight was blacking out. It hurt to breathe. “Get out.”The Circle was a deadly trap. Perfect place for an ambush. “Not the Center.Streets… Away…”
They would shoot anyone trying for the Centerright then. If she could reach the narrow streets though…
“You are too heavy for me to carry, Haymitch.”she retorted. “We will never make it.”
He shook his head, blindly feeling around forthe hand on his chest. “Alone.”
She looked puzzled until understanding dawnedon her face. “Like hell!”
She was terrified. It was so obvious that shewas terrified… And she should have been.She had no business standing in the middle of a gun fight.
“Dying.” he said.
“Certainly not!” she huffed. “I forbade it.” A steady string of gunshotsechoed nearby and she startled badly, letting out a small whimper as her eyes dartedaround, looking for… Relief washed over her face and he wanted to know what hadmade her so happy but he couldn’t look away. His grip slackened on her wristand his hand fell flat in the dust. He focused on her face because it was theonly thing that seemed to matter at that moment. She looked like a washed-outpainting. Colors running down her cheeks. “He has been shot.” she explained.“Please, I…”
She was pushed aside rather brutally and astronger hand pressed on his chest, tearing a pained moan from his throat.
“Taking a bullet for her? Really, buddy? Really?”Eleven’s victor spat, clearly nothappy with him. “I swear, Haymitch, Iswear, if you die because of that woman, I’m gonna bring you back to killyou myself.” Chaff made a face. “And if you get me killed for her, I will be very pissed. Very, very pissed.”
He tried to answer but the only thing thatpassed his lips was an incoherent sound. He could hear Effie sobbing quietly nextto him.
“Stop crying.” Chaff ordered harshly. “This isa fucking mess. We need to get him tothe Center.” Haymitch tried to protest but his friend just waved his stump inthe air. “Yeah. I know. But someone’sbeen stupid enough to get himself shot so we need help.” He heard fabric tearing, more stuff was pressed against hischest… “Listen to me, Trinket. We’re gonna run and you’re not gonna look back,alright? Whatever you see or hear, you run straight for that door and you praythey open it for us.”
“Haymitch…” Effie protested.
“I’ve got him. You just go and try not getyourself killed.” Eleven’s victor grumbled. “Clearly, he wants you alive.”
The moment Chaff hauled him up over hisshoulder, Haymitch’s sight went black.
He woke up feeling sluggish, blinking up atharsh lights on a white ceiling.
“Haymitch?” Effie’s voice called softly. Shecradled his hand in hers, he felt her lips on his skin… “The doctor said youmight be a little disoriented… Do notpanic. You had surgery. I am right here and… I won’t leave you alone. You are safe and…” Her voice broke. He wouldhave loved to ask what the fuck wasgoing on – surgery for what? – but he felt himself going under again. “I amstaying right here. I promise.”
It wasn’t that bad, then.
He trusted her to keep him safe.
The next time he woke up, the pain wasimpossible to ignore. It wasn’t as crushing as he felt it should probably be,thanks in part to the drugs that made his mind a little slow.
“Did I get shot?” he muttered before he evenopened his eyes, half hoping the whole thing was a drunk delirium.
“You will recover just fine.” Effie answered,sounding weak and tired. He wondered how long she had been sitting there. “Itwas… It was serious. They told me…You flatlined twice during surgery, they had to… You died. You…” He opened his eyes to find her crying silently, herface bare of make-up, her eyes red and puffy… The pink wig was still on herhead and she was still wearing the torn dress. “Haymitch…”
He reached for her face and missed his mark bya few inches but she brought his hand to her cheek and leaned into it, clearlygiving up on trying to look collected. She sobbed and sobbed and he couldn’t doa thing because the smallest move made his body hurt.
This wasn’t clever, he realized, not clever at all. They had both showed their handsthere.
The door opened and Chaff walked in with asteaming cup of… something. Hescowled a little when he saw the state Effie was in but simply closed the doorbehind him without commenting, turning his attention to Haymitch. “Good to seeyou awake. And, you know, not dead.”
“Thanks.” he snorted and immediately regrettedit because that hurt. He waited for Effie to stand up and pretend everythingwas fine with her but she just sat there, slumped and defeated like he hadnever seen her, clinging to his hand like it was a lifeline. He let go of herface and their fingers fell on the mattress next to his hip. “The fuck were those people?”
“Rebels.” Chaff explained, handing the cup toEffie. It took a few seconds before she reached for it and his friend didn’tlook impressed with her. “Look, he’s awake, he’s obviously fine… Go back to thepenthouse, take a shower, sleep for a few hours… It’s getting ridiculous,love.”
“I am fine.” she denied. “Thank you for thecoffee.”
“It’s been three days.” Eleven’s victorinsisted.
Effie ignored him, taking a sip of the steamingcup of coffee and staring at their entwined fingers.
“Rebels?” Haymitch prompted because the wholething was awkward and he was too tired to care about it.
“Yeah.” Chaff nodded, lips pursed and stillglaring at Twelve’s escort. “Anti-Games. Anti-Capitols.”
“The tributes?” he asked.
“They’ve been moved to the Center. The Gameshave been postponed until…” Eleven’s victor shrugged. “Those guys got a fewGamemakers, a couple of escorts and three victors including you. It’s gonnatake a couple of weeks to reorganize everything and replace everyone.” Chaff’sgaze hardened. “Now, buddy… Do we talk about the elephant in the room or what?What the fuck did you think you weredoing?”
He scowled, automatically squeezing Effie’sfingers. “Fuck off, Chaff.”
“Classy.” his friend scoffed. “Not like Irisked my neck for yours.”
“Didn’t ask you to.” he retorted.
“Sure, you didn’t.” Chaff snapped. “You just went and got shot for a…”
“Careful.” he advised in a growl.
“Enough!”Effie cut in, clearly losing her temper. He waited for the rant but it didn’tcame. She just brought the cup of coffee to her forehead and closed her eyes.“Enough.” she repeated in a softer tone. “It doesn’t mean anything. It was areflex. Wasn’t it, Haymitch? I was right next to you and you saw the gun… Itwas instinctive. It does not meanmore than that.”
Her blue eyes looked straight into his, almostbegging him to play along with her.
They both knew better, he figured, but…
“Yeah.” he agreed. “Just a stupid reflex. Notlike I would die for you or something.”
A small smile briefly stretched her lips andshe turned her tired gaze to Chaff. “See? It was just a stupid reflex. It is what he will tell Caesar when he asks.”
Haymitch frowned. “Why would Caesar asks?”
“Oh, I don’t know…” Chaff sneered. “’Cause you got shot for your escort and a lotof people saw it? ‘Cause Trinket hasbeen haunting the Games Clinic for three days in that state?” He waved his stump at the escort. “How you’re gonnaexplain that, love?”
“I am grateful he saved my life and, while wehave our arguments, Haymitch and I have been colleagues for a long time and thus are friends.” she replied. “This isPR, Chaff. I excel at it. There is not a story I cannot spin.”
“It ain’t the audience you’re gonna have toconvince.” Eleven’s victor spat. “You’ve been stupid. Both of you.” He pointed his stump at Haymitch. “I look atyou and you know what I see? I see a guy who’s so in love with that woman hejumps ahead of bullets without thinking twice for his own safety. You sawanother victor grabbing their escort like you did? Don’t think so.” He pointedhis stump at Effie. “I look at youand I see a lovesick desperate woman who almost lost the love of her life.”Haymitch opened his mouth but Chaff didn’t let him say anything. “That’s what you fucking look like. Andif you think Snow’s stupid enough to buy your friendship story or even the fuckbuddies thing you’ve got going on… Don’t bother trying to deny it, Trinket,we’re past that point now.” Effie glared at him but remained silent. Haymitch’sbest friend shook his head. “Smartest thing to do for everyone involved is foryou to quit and for you to… Forget about her. Unless you think she’s worthbecoming their bitch. In that case,be my guest. But you better be verysure, Haymitch, ‘cause once you go there, the only way you’re getting out iswith one of you in a coffin.”
Chaff stormed out on that ominous statement.
They both remained silent after the door hadslammed on his back.
“To be honest, he might be right but I cannotreally bring myself to care right now.” Effie declared eventually. “I can get the speculations under controlthough. And Brutus did get Valeria tothe Center so his claim that you are the only victor who tried to help theirescort is ridiculous. There must have been others.”
“He’s fuckingher.” he pointed out.
“Irrelevant.” she dismissed. “I am not quittingand you are not… You are not forgetting aboutme. We will deal with this. I do believePresident Snow has more important worries at the moment than finding out if youand I are more involved than we claim. Not that we are.” She hurried in adding the last part when she saw his wince.“We have lost our Head Gamemaker, people are in no mood to watch the Games afterthis, the security breach alone is flabbergasting… Trust me, he has more urgentproblems than us.”
He knew Chaff had a point.
He knew.
But he also had taken a bullet in the chest nottoo long ago and he was tired and in pain and her solution seemed like theeasiest one.
“Fine.” he agreed, his thumb stroking the backof her hand once. “But I’m okay now. Go back to the penthouse, get some restand then go out there and get on top of the story.”
She pouted but eventually nodded, finishing hercoffee in a few long gulps.
“Thank you.” she said quietly. “For saving mylife.”
“Stupid reflex.” he smirked.
She snorted and leaned forward to press a kisson his lips, danger of being discovered be damned.
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