#picturing him with some scissors walking around like shit i HAD to leave this for the last second god which ones look best uhh
enamouredless · a day ago
now whose garden did mike get those flowers from
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silverdelirium · a year ago
summary: draco fucks scorpius’ nanny on the laundry room
warnings: breeding kink, rough sex.
“so do you accept?” asked draco to the girl who only stared at him with mouth slightly agape. “i-i mean i guess” she replied, not meeting his eyes.
“see you on monday then” nodded draco and turned on his heel, walking away.
y/n really didn’t know how they ended up on the topic of her being draco malfoy’s son’s nanny. it really wasn’t much work, a three year old baby just needed attention, food and sleep. but still, me out of all people? she thought, why did i even agree?
but here she was, beaming at the sight of scorpius’ new drawing which consisted on draco’s exaggerated tall figure, y/n and scorp. she sometimes felt bad that astoria was never in the picture, in every sense. she had left draco after scorpius turned 3 months old and never came back, draco explained this when they first reencountered, apparently it never really affected him. considering it was an arranged marriage.
“wow baby this is so good, i bet you’re gonna be an artist some day!” you exclaimed at him. he giggled and turned pink but a loud yawn cut his smile off. “i think it’s time for your nap, come on” she said, standing up and dusting off her skirt, scorpius holding up his arms.
y/n settled scorpius on bed and he was asleep in seconds, she chuckled and just snuggled the blanket closer to him. her eye caught a peek of scorpius’ laundry basket. sure, she was just a nanny that was supposed to take care of the child and that was it, the clothes were the elf’s work. but scorpius was terrified of them so draco took care of his clothes, y/n decided to just take his clothes to the laundry room and throw them inside the washing machine.
as y/n made her way to the laundry room, draco came through the fireplace that was at the whole other wing of the manor, making y/n unconscious of his presence.
draco gave a big sigh and immediately entered the kitchen for a glass of wine, opening up the cabinet that had one of the bottles opened already, courtesy of draco’s previous stress.
he knew scorpius must be asleep, taking notice of the silence that resonated through the manor’s atmosphere. in his midst of thinking, a few drops spilled from the rim his cup when he inclined it too harshly, making them spill on his white shirt. draco gave a groan at this and threw his head back.
narcissa always told draco that it was better to immediately wash clothing items if he ever spilled something on them. so he grumpily made his way to the laundry room.
as he got closer he could hear shuffling of clothes and a low humming, eventually stopping at the doorway to catch sight of y/n bent over, placing small clothing items into the washing machine. he went wide eyed at the peak he caught of her lace pink panties, cunt perfectly outlined.
draco was frustrated, sexually more than ever. he always found y/n hot, even in hogwarts, he remembers having a huge crush on her during fourth and fifth year, but they never really talked except for the polite hello’s and brief conversation when they were partnered in class.
right now, all the past emotions were coming back. and he wanted nothing more than to fuck her like he never did to a woman before. for hours and hours until she turned into nothing but a blabbering mess.
y/n eventually straightened up and went to pick more clothes, but she was met with a paralized draco on the doorframe.
“oh- hello draco, i didn’t know you were back” she saluted politely, going back to scorpius small basket that was placed on top of the dryer.
draco was snapped out of his trance at her voice, he swallowed hard before responding, “evening, just came to- uh put this in the washing machine” he gestured to his shirt, making her look at his chest but eventually trailing down to his very apparent bulge.
he saw how her eyes went wide but she said nothing and just gulped and nodded, gaze not meeting his.
the laundry room really wasn’t that big, making it hard for draco to pass y/n to go to the washing machine that was placed next to the dryer. but he still came in contact with her. his clothed cock pressing perfectly into her ass, a small gasp escaping her while draco grunted at the friction.
they both stilled.
y/n was the first to turn around, groin now pressing into her front, he was breathing heavily. and like magnets they connected together, tongues exploring each other’s mouth. draco’s hands rubbing her ass, down until the back of her thighs were in his large hands. he tapped them lightly, signaling her to jump, which she obliged instantly and jumped, draco hoisting her onto the washing machine.
he disconnected their lips to travel down to her neck, a small whine escaping her when he found her sweet spot. draco absolutely devouring the skin and littering it with purple hickeys. he eventually pulled away to take a good look at his little piece of art.
y/n brought him back into a heated kiss while unbuttoning his shirt, his own hands finding way to the hem of hers. once he shrugged off his shirt he helped her pull hers off, throwing it onto the floor. he pulled away from the kiss once again to look at her soft mounds that sat perfectly in a bra, he groaned at the sight as his cock twitched on his trousers.
“can i take this off sweet thing?” he asked, tone low as he hooked a finger on the bra strap.
y/n eagerly nodded, draco wasting no time and unclasping the bra in a quick motion, disregarding it to the side, mouth immediately attaching to her nipple while his hand toyed with the other. she gave a moan at this breathing heavily and leaning back on her palms, panties soaked and pussy throbbing.
draco kissed his way down to her stomach, dragging her skirt down until it hit the floor. he stepped back and admired with pure mesmerization at y/n’s form, tits with perked up nipples, dampened panties and breathing hard. “look at my pretty princess” he said, unbuckling his belt and lowering his pants low enough so his dick popped out.
she went wide eyed for the second time that evening at his size. draco was much bigger than anyone she had ever been with and he was just a very big person in general, she wasn’t sure she could take him all.
draco stroked his cock up and down slowly, tip red and leaking with pre-cum. he got closer to her and moved her panties to the side, eyes glinting when he saw her bare cunt, dripping.
“so wet baby” he said as he passed two fingers over her folds, y/n shuddering while he brought them up to his mouth and hummed at the taste, watching her face heat up.
“taste so good too” he growled, inching his face closer to her and leaning their foreheads together while his fingers plummeted themselves slowly into her, a loud moan escaping her lips.
he started moving them at a slow pace, almost torturous. watching intently as she released small whimpers and moans, his cock twitching every now and then.
he started scissoring his fingers inside of her, going faster. “ah! yes draco right there” she moaned out when he curled his fingers, touching that spongy spot inside her. “yeah? think you can take my cock now?” he questioned.
“yes” she replied quickly, pussy clenching at the thought of having him inside her, finally.
he seemed to notice this and chuckled, removing his fingers and dragging them to his cock once again, coating it with her juices. he guided it to her entrance and drenched the tip with her arousal, making y/n buck her hips up and whine.
“sh sh sh, now be patient little girl” he warned, fingers lightly tapping her clit, making her jolt and quickly shut up as she waited in anticipation.
draco entered y/n slowly with a groan, a strangled moan leaving her throat. he let her adjust to his size for a few moments before starting out on a decently fast pace, making her throw your head back and release several moans the faster he went, breasts bouncing everywhere, much to draco’s delight.
he settled for a brutal pace that had the washing machine shaking, watching her eyes go crisscross when he reaches to rub her clit.
“fuck baby look at this pretty pussy squeezing me, so fucking tight” he groaned, looking down at her juices dripping out, thighs glistening. “you have no idea how many times i’ve dreamt about this” he said, voice strained. she hummed in pleasure as she wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down to another steamy kiss, he greedily ate every moan she made, her legs starting to tremble.
“fuck baby im close” he said when she pulled away for breath. “me too!” she replied, his thumb assaulting her clit harsher.
“yeah? gonna cum all over me? and then let me put my fucking cum inside you until your fucking pregnant?” he teased, moving his hands to grip her ass, y/n gave a loud moan in response and rapidly nodded, orgasm right at its peak. “fuckfuckfuck yes draco!” she screamed as she came, legs completely shaking and letting that coil snap while he fucked her faster, riding out her high while chasing his.
“shit, gonna cum so hard inside you and give you my kids princess” he groaned, his thrust sloppy when his orgasm hit him, releasing a loud moan as he came.
after they both calmed down from their highs he sighed in pleasure and looked down to her puffy cunt, he pulled out slowly and watched as her pussy spurted out both cums. he collected some on his fingers and held them up to y/n.
she opened her mouth and kept eye contact as she sucked on them, humming at the taste like he had done previously, making his once soft cock perk up immediately. she was gonna be the death of him.
she giggled at his reaction and got off the, now sticky washing machine due to their arousal on it, leaning her top half over it and arching her back. draco’s mouth agape at the view.
“round 2?” she taunted.
but right as draco was about to fuck her into tomorrow, a small paddle of feet could be heard in the distance with a faint “daddy? y/n?”.
part two
🏷: @spencervera @methblinds @marrymetheonott @adrianscumslut @wh0re4blaise @turn-to-page-394-please @fredshufflepuff @malfoysbiitch @saggyb1lls @helleli @metaraxia @daddybutmakeitagirl @dracomalfoys-wh0re @dlmmdl @fleursbabe @riddleswh0r3crux @lolooo22 @darlingmalfoy @littlemissnoname13 @i-love-scott-mccall @underappreciated-spoon-321 @steveharringtonswhore @dracosafety
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astaroth1357 · a year ago
Okay, but like could you imagine how the demon bros would react if MC had a fanclub, because I feel like that would be wild lol
The Brothers v. The MC’s Fanclub
Surely, the italics blurb was meant for more than this! Any old letters in any order could have been strung together for the purpose of wasting space and yet here it is, a being brought forth with intent! With substance! The blurb has a need for greater purpose, but what is it to do when its sole function is to only exist?? How can it ever hope to fulfill its ambition when it's no more than a proto-intro to a fuller, more engaging story?! Surely… Surely there is a way...
He had expected a human in the Devildom would have been eaten… not popular!
The MC’s rise to the social hierarchy sidelined him hard. When he had assigned Mammon to guard their human, it was with the expectation of keeping hungry demons at bay… not ushering them through crowds of followers like a security detail.
Honestly, it’s more inconvenient than anything… The MC’s fans are actually worse than his own at taking a hint and he had to give the human a map of school just to find ways to avoid them in the halls!
They usually know better than to crash any dates that the two are on (this is Lucifer we’re talking about), but they get no privacy at RAD anymore… If he tries to meet up with the MC for anything, he has to go round up all their crazed stalkers groupies before he can actually say anything.
He’d expel them all if he could, but since Diavolo holds onto that power, he just gives any of them that get in his way an eternal detention… Can’t bother MC if you’re sealed in a closet, now can you?
His possessiveness and his need to make money are at real odds with themselves…
On the one hand, it’d be so easy to milk these fools like no tomorrow! He could sell them practically anything the MC’s touched from old shirts to toothbrushes. Pictures could go for twice as much and if he could get the MC to give out hugs…? They’d be loaded!! Loaded, baby!!!
… But then one of them tries to get too close to MC and he feels the urge to sock him in the jaw… Like, they’re suckers, obviously, but the MC is still HIS MC. The idea of a bunch of groupies following them around… it gets under his skin something fierce.
He pretty much won’t leave their side at all at RAD just so he can swat away their fans whenever he gets the chance. He may as well be their personal bodyguard, the second a guy gets too close, Mammon will have him by the back of the neck and toss him out on his ass.
It doesn’t stop him from making money off them completely (this is Mammon we’re talking about) but he makes sure they stick to whatever worthless cast-offs he pawns on them. The real deal is his and his alone, ya hear?
Jealous boi is jealous and he doesn’t want to talk about it.
The second he found out the MC had their own fanclub he knew he hated them. He’s an otaku and a huge ass simp for people in both 2 and 3 dimensions. That means he knows what fans like this do to the people they idolize… 
Just the thought of the MC’s groupies trying to get candid shots of them or going after everything from their pencils to their bathwater… Nope. No. Not allowed. Not with his MC anyway.
He starts going out to RAD more often just to stake his claim when those losers are around (yes, even he considers them to be losers… not that he has much leg to stand on but hey). 
Normally stuttery and blushy Levi suddenly upgrades to a confident snek boy literally any time he sees their fans around. He’s gotta be touching them somehow and he’ll smile in their direction like a smug asshole the entire time. Yeah that’s right… be jealous of him for a change, you simps.
Dear lord are they an annoying bunch…
Satan isn’t opposed to the MC having fans in principle, on some level he even understands it. They’re a human in a world full of demons and that’s going to turn some heads on its own, but that doesn’t mean they have to be SO IRRITATING about it...
Satan will just be walking with the MC out in the courtyard and they’ll have fans practically nipping their heels for attention… He’d be much more patient with them if they didn’t insist on following the MC everywhere, even when they clearly don’t want them around!
Satan ends up becoming a second bodyguard for the MC when Mammon’s not around. Most of the club will keep their distance from him after just a glare but he’ll start breaking arms if pushed. Satan doesn’t play.
One unfortunate soul made the mistake of trying to take a bit of the MC’s hair for a spell and Satan caught him, scissors at ready and everything… No one talks about where those scissors ended up afterward…
Actually isn’t as irritated with their fanclub as everybody else because, like, have you seen his? It’s just one of the joys (and challenges) of being so popular! Slay it, MC!!
Asmo is the only one who tries to encourage the MC to interact with their fans more because he’s experienced the benefits for himself. 
Having a loyal fanclub can be so heartwarming at times! It’s like having a group of people always willing to pump to you up all the time - and who doesn’t need that?
Often invites their fanclub to join his fanclub to make “crossover” parties where they all can mingle together and enjoy heaps of praise! (The MC’s actual enjoyment of these “parties” is entirely up to their tolerance of sycophantic idol worship…)
Asmo does have his limits though. The MC’s lips really only belong to him and any fan who thinks otherwise will have to deal with the full verbal fury of the fifthborn… He has made several of them dropout completely… 
Thought their club was maybe a little weird at first but tried to keep an open mind… 
They certainly aren’t like HIS fanclub (who are just the sweetest people) but they liked the MC and he liked the MC. They couldn’t have been that different, right?
Wrong. Very, very wrong. They are nothing alike.
This fact became abundantly clear to Beel after he watched a few of them steal the MC’s gym shoes from their locker… Yeah, he’s not about these guys much after that.
Mammon refused to let Beel take over as the MC’s 24/7 bodyguard, but he did become the primary muscle of the “MC Security Squad.” If a fan gets a little too crazy, then Beel straightens them out with a fist and a smile.
Heeeey, good job MC, you got some minions! Now you just got to learn how to use them.
At least, that’s what he says but he’s not actually going to teach them or anything. Does he look like a tutor to you? Too much work...
Whether or not the MC learned how to exploit their popularity properly, he doesn’t like it when they’re around anyway. Belphie’s a very, “Me Time means Just ME” sort of guy and having a bunch of losers following the MC around gets in the way of their lunchtime cuddle…
Unlike everyone else, though, Belphie has his own minions to do his bidding so now Belphie’s fanclub and the MC fanclub are having all-out wars between class periods. We’re talking fistfights, blackmail, and firecrackers. Shit gets wild.
Not that Belphie really cares or even looks as involved in any of it as he actually is. Little does the MC know that every time they pull him in for a snuggle, he’s probably just ordered someone to slash some poor groupie’s tires… Don’t fuck with the Sleep King.
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dilucids · a year ago
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤClear signs of romance, Genshin characters.
them as romantic things that I want to experience.
includes chongyun, xiao, bennett, lumine and fischl.
( or you could see this as a romantic shit genshin characters would do if you were dating. a vent??? kinda?? )
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━━ buying that one ice lolly with two sticks and ripping them apart to share but it'd fail and you'd end up with one mutated with the top half of the other still stuck to it so you two would rock–paper–scissors for the bigger half.
━━ he would have these 'oh my god, i'm in love' revelations at night and wouldn't be able to sleep so he decides to tell you instead through a "i–know–you're–probably–sleeping–right–now–but" text and say the cheesiest, heartwarming stuff ever and might talk about your future together and how he wants to move in.
━━ catching him dazed, staring at you so you smile at him and look away first, giving him a chance to register how ethereal you are.
━━ walking side by side in a quiet street, knuckles brushing against each other as the sun dawns on your back and you see your shadows infront of you, encased in the colour of the melting sun.
━━ having a shared playlist where you two add songs that you want the other to listen to or reminds you of them.
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━━ the classic "who did this to you?" when he finally gets you to stop hiding behind your hair and seeing the black eye you had.
━━ taking a nap on his shoulder in spring under a large tree as he reads where the wind is caressing the two of you and the sun keeps you warm but doesn't blind you.
━━ finishing a mentally taxing class and finally hearing that bell ring, you pack up and go to leave and he's stood outside the classroom door, waiting for you. when he sees you, he lets you lean on his arm as he walks you to your next class, giving you a light forehead kiss before sending you in.
━━ watching him do a normal everyday task and realising that maybe you've found the one.
━━ him sat on a table with you between his legs as you clean up his cuts on his face from getting into a fight. you're scolding him but he's too busy thinking about how much he loves you to care.
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━━ getting a 'meet me at our spot' text after a long day.
━━ doing your own thing whilst singing to a song and then hearing him quietly sing along so you ditch the thing you're doing, looking up to catch his gaze and you two end up dramatically singing songs together.
━━ uneven sleeping schedules so that no matter who, you both have a period where you get admire their soft features, whether it be under the rising sun or the lull of the moon. bennett would go to sleep earlier so you get to admire him under the light of the star stickers on his ceiling and his fairy lights and he would also be the first to wake up so he gets to see you get hit with the single ray of sunset.
━━ getting a knock on the door a few minutes after you've sent him a vent text about your day and it's him, in his pyjamas with a bag of snacks that he found around his house ( some half eaten ) because he didn't want to make you wait for too long whilst you were sad.
━━ him getting excited about things that he knows you like, even if he doesn't understand much of it.
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━━ matching everything; profile pictures, bios, themes.
━━ sitting at a park, on a picnic or something, and guessing the life of people who walk past, either simply things like names or ages or give them a detailed fairy like past based on their appearance.
━━ holding the other in your sleep; whether it's being in the other's embrace, having your legs tangled together or even just holding hands. just that constant reassurance that she's there for you.
━━ linking arms with her as she leans into your shoulder.
━━ calling you up at odd times in the night to tell you she can't sleep so you'd sneak out to go get chicken nuggets from mcdonalds and then have some form of an adventure at night.
━━ would tell you she's gonna be late to come over but it's cause she went to buy you flowers.
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━━ would drop everything to listen to you, if you called her whilst she was getting ready to sleep, she would forget that she was sleepy and answer your call immediately.
━━ if you're more introverted, that's fine because fischl is the best at filling in awkward silences. she can ramble about anything and everything on spot; if you feel bad and just want to hear her speak, she could talk about her day for hours and all she needs is a small reaction here and there or a question about something she said to know you really are listening and she'd keep talking.
━━ in addition to that^^, she will also lay on your chest or let you lay on hers whilst rambling if you guys were in private.
━━ arcade dates but she sucks at the crane games and you also also suck at crane games so you spend your entire wallet and time at the arcade, stood infront of the crane game until one of you grabs onto the purple bird plush and you both scream in excitement when it falls down the chute.
━━ avid anime/manga stan, will watch animes with you, read with you and will recommend. if you ask her to watch a new anime with you and she's seen it, she will pretend she hasn't so she gets to spend more time with you anyways.
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tarosin · 11 months ago
the great adventures of y/n and ranboo
this is an extra part to the great adventures series
summary: part two to the angst imagine (the not so great adventures of y/n tommy tubbo jack and ranboo) it’s a happier ‘ending’ please read what is written in bold
this is an “alternative ending” around 15 years into the future this doesn’t mean this is actually how the series is going to end im writing it now and including it as part of series as their friendship is already established i can confirm y/n and the group are going to have a happy ending when the series eventually comes to an end this also does not mean the series is anywhere near the end i plan on continuing the series as vlogs come out, i feel the need to confirm this now love between y/n and ranboo in this imagine is completely platonic
it had been about a month since you last streamed whereas ranboo continued to stream a few days after the fallout as he wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. even though ranboo knew this huge fallout would eventually happen, it still hurt him, especially since he knew there was no way to prevent it, the four of you in the same house mixed with the stress of being some of the most-watched content creators made living rather difficult. it was like walking on eggshells as you didn’t want to interrupt someone's stream, then there was the additional stress of obsessive fans finding out where the four of you lived, you still remember that day very vividly. you were sat in between tubbo and ranboo watching the office whilst Tommy was in an interview when you received a message from your mod.
Chris: hey y/n I received this message earlier I don’t want to scare you, but maybe get the locks changed. someone sent a message claiming this is your address *image of message from ‘fan’*
it didn’t take long for tubbo and ranboo to receive a message from their mods saying the same thing
“holy shit...”
“chances are Tommy has the message too. we shall go check around the house when Tommy is done with the interview.”
luckily no one ever showed up to the house, but the fact some people were so obsessed to the point they found your address was enough to put everyone in the house on edge. and now it was just you and ranboo in the house. you didn’t feel safe as even though ranboo promised to not let anything happen, you didn’t wanna risk it.
“we should move. there’s no point in having such a big house for two people, what are we going to use the extra space for heh? hide and seek with people who have our address. no thank you. I say we move leave this mess behind and start completely over, hell I’d feel safer in the us and that’s saying something”
ranboo agreed the house didn’t have the happiest memories attached to it anymore, it hurt walking past the hallway as it would bring back the memory of him crying into the crook of y/ns neck whilst tubbo left the house.
“let’s do it, I’ll do an early stream then we can look for houses. go take a shower. I’ll stay close to the door so you’re safe, then you can stay in my room whilst I stream, you can join me if you would like.”
“you’re being very protective all of a sudden...let me guess you got the message from our mods announcing the obsessive fans are at it again?”
“go take a shower.”
ranboo ended up picking you up, carried you to the bathroom and turned the shower on before putting you on your feet.
“quick shower I’ll see you later.”
and with that he left the room shutting the door behind him, 30 minutes later you got changed and followed ranboo to his room ready to join him whilst he streams
“hey boo, can I join you? I kinda wanna get into streaming again.”
“I'm so glad you asked, I was going to do a face cam stream, if that’s okay?”
“of course.”
you grabbed his mask and glasses whilst he locked the door so you were both safe. “here you go.”
“thank you.”
the pair of you started the stream and it was honestly going well, you were having so much fun you forgot about all the negative things currently going on, you began to understand why ranboo continued streaming as for those 2-4 hours of streaming it felt as though everything was back to normal. 3 hours later the two of you ended stream and Twitter went crazy. tweets ranged from fans talking about how ranboo was streaming with you, how Tommy was in chat, and how tubbo was modding as people who mentioned anything about their address being leaked were banned by tubbo. the one thing that caught ranboos eye was fan art and a picture of you both from the stream captioned ‘they’re platonic soulmates your honour’ ranboo went as far to like, retweet and comment on it.
ranaltboo: glad you liked the stream it was great having y/n back, think I might make them play tattletail next stream
definitelynoty/n: isn’t that the Furby game that terrified you in 2021? bring it on boo!
Twitter went crazy over this interaction, you had finally come back to social media after months of being inactive, and it looked like you were here to stay. a month later you and ranboo moved out of the house and sold it to your aunt and her wife and their three adopted children, you explained the situation and even changed the locks for them all before they moved in.
“Please do tell us if anyone shows up who shouldn’t be. we changed the locks as you were aware- oh hello little one.”
you noticed one of their children decided to cling onto your leg
“I like your hair it’s colourful!”
“Indeed it is.”
the little girl let go of your leg and ran to ranboo asking to be picked up, unsure of what to do he looked towards you. however, you were too busy laughing about the fact he was compared to a giant.
“I'm so sorry uh if you want to pick her up you can, you don’t have to.”
“pick me up, tall man... I want to be taller!”
ranboo ended up standing next to you with an arm around your waist whilst the child sat on his shoulders happily playing with his hair.
“ranboo do not drop that child.”
“I didn't- I didn't plan on it y/n.”
eventually, it was time to leave and the child reluctantly let go of ranboo.
“bye-bye!! hope to see you soon!”
soon enough you were at a smaller house, far away from the old house, leaving behind the negative feelings. it could only get better, a week later the pair of you had settled into the new house, it finally felt like home. you and ranboo were now streaming full time again, safe to say the two of you were thriving and closer than ever.
“so I’m thinking if I hit the sub-goal today I’ll let chat pick what colour I dye my hair.”
“make it higher, and I’ll let you cut my hair.”
“Are you being serious? oh my god!”
a few minutes later you took to Twitter to announce you were going live.
y/n: kidnapping children in the sims with ranboo psst check the subgoal.
within 20 minutes you had hit the sub-goal, chat ended up picking another random neon colour for your hair.
“right hair dye and the cutting stream will be this weekend, now let’s go back to kidnapping.”
tubbo, tommy, and jack felt awful for what happened and went back to the house where you used to live, hoping to see you there so they could apologise, tubbo knocked on the door only to be met by a young child.
“my sister watches you on twitch!”
“oh that’s lovely.. are y/n and ranboo here?”
an older woman came to the door.
“oh no, I’m sorry dear they both moved out, but they left this box and said to give it to you if you returned.”
“do you know where they moved to?”
“I'm sorry dear, I'm not allowed to tell you that information for safety reasons.”
“I understand, thanks anyway.”
they ended up going back to jacks where the three of them had been staying.
“We should open the box.”
tubbo opened the box and emptied the items onto the floor, inside was the rocks y/n handed tubbo from every trip, photos of the group, a necklace y/n had gifted to Tommy a day before the argument, and a hat y/n had taken from jack during a trip to a zoo.
“what the fuck!”
“holy shit!”
“they really kept all these in hopes we would come back?”
“and now we’re too late.”
it was now the weekend you and ranboo were ready to stream, you stood leaning on ranboo who was significantly smaller than you as you lowered the chair he sat on.
“starting stream...now.”
after the starting soon intro played, you explained what was happening to any new viewers or people who didn’t watch the stream.
“so I’m about to become Edward Scissorhands...I love that film can we watch it later?”
“yeah mhm sure!”
you didn’t know this but your ex best friends were watching and ever so often would show up in the chat.
“so boo, what are we doing with your hair today?”
“just a trim please darling?”
“This is y/ns hairdressers you get what I’m capable of!”
you ended up doing a pretty good job of cutting ranboos hair, even he was impressed.
“I didn’t doubt you for a minute!”
“mhm sure thing please don’t mess up my hair tall one!”
soon enough you had the dye on. 45 minutes later you left to wash it off, leaving ranboo to entertain stream,
“chat I think I missed some of their hair it’s okay, I own scissors, I’ll just cut it.. speaking of they did a great job, didn't they? I honestly expected them to mess up.”
a few minutes later you joined ranboo again and spent the next few hours talking with chat. tubbo, tommy, and jack stayed the entire time. they loved the fact you and ranboo were able to stay close after what happened, Tommy noticed you were still wearing the necklace he got you many years ago and spammed them chat with him tubbo and jack
jack: so what? they clearly don’t wanna talk to us.
tubbo: shut up listen to them.
“chat why are we spamming platonic soulmates?”
“they’ve been saying it all over Twitter, look on trending y/n.”
you started to blush slightly at all the amazing artwork soon enough the stream came to an end, after saying goodbye the pair of you sat together going through fan art. unfortunately the one that caught your eye was this one twitter post where the artist had created a drawing of a piece of paper with you, ranboo, tommy, tubbo, and jack, however the paper was ripped separating you and ranboo from the others, captioned ‘it was never meant to be’ this clearly upset ranboo as he took off his mask and glasses placing them on the desk before going straight to his bed.
“boo…are you okay?”
“Are you tired of me? are you going to leave next?”
“what? no of course not! I could never get tired of you, why do you ask?”
“everyone else has left..i thought they cared about us, i knew it would happen eventually and i couldn’t stop it, i’m sorry, y/n, please don’t hate me.”
you sat on the edge of the bed looking down at the floor,
“come here.”
you watched him roll over to face you.
“you know there’s no one else who I'd rather spend the rest of my life with, right…if i hated you i wouldn’t have moved house with you. it’s not your job to fix everything and make everything better, you’re a streamer for christ sake not a therapist.”
“i guess so.. can we watch that thing you were on about for ages.”
“edward scissorhands? “
you could tell he wanted to be distracted, so you agreed and put the film on, towards the end you began to get upset due to how overwhelming everything was.
“Why are you crying?”
“poor Edward.”
“come here.”
ranboo pulled you into a hug you laid there crying into his chest, he knew that wasn’t the reason you were crying, but he wasn’t about to make you tell him, luckily it didn’t take long for you to stop crying as ranboo quickly distracted you.
“yeah y/n?”
“I feel bad i didnt realise how much pressure was on you whilst everyone was arguing.”
“Hey, it’s okay, is that what’s upsetting you?”
“don’t blame yourself, i’d do it all over again to keep you safe and happy..then again i didn’t do a good job on keeping you happy.”
“you did..you were always there for me even when i gave up on social media, you shared your room with me after i started receiving creepy messages from that obsessed fan, hell you even went on adventures with me even though it was clear you hadn’t been sleeping, just so we could spend time together and forget about what was happening. you mean a lot to me boo.”
“i love you.”
“i love you too bud, I’m tired.”
“go to sleep, it’s been a long day.”
“you just staying there?”
“oh, oh okay, goodnight.”
about a year later the two of you were still thriving, ranboo got you a promise ring a few months earlier.
“heh what’s this for?”
“as your best friend i promise to stay by your side and keep you safe and make sure that you’re happy, in other words you're stuck with me till the end of time.”
“boo…i really don’t know what to say.. thank you so much!”
“you don’t have to say anything!”
you ended up going out to buy him a promise ring when he started the stream and decided to take your cousins with you now that they were a little older. ranboo was doing a facecam stream when the door slammed open revealing you covering your three younger cousins ranboo not realising you were hiding them from the camera, instinctively stood up covering the camera
“yes you three and y/n ,what do you need?”
“we would like to watch a film!”
“Okay, i’ll go put one on, y/n will you entertain chat?”
“sure thing boo boy!”
once they left you sat fixing your hair forgetting you were wearing the ring chat noticed this and went crazy, so did Tommys group with tubbo and jack.
tubbo: that’s a ring, right??
jack: yeah looks like it.
Tommy: holy shit I always thought if anyone was gonna get married it would be tubbo and y/n, they were inseparable.
tubbo: hilarious.
jack: it could just be a ring, no one mentioned marriage tommy!
Tommy: we should congratulate them.
jack: at least let them explain fucking hell.
soon enough ranboo came back into the room,
“sorry one of them found it hilarious to steal my glasses...”
“they’re little shits i swear to god but i love them.”
you both noticed chat going crazy and both looked at each other before laughing.
“i'm sorry, i can’t take you serious in the mask and glasses!”
“i can’t take you serious with neon hair, but here we are!”
you and ranboo quickly put an end to the rumours,
“no we’re not engaged or married, it is a promise ring. no they’re not our children, they’re y/ns cousins they just spend a lot of time here..chat stop calling me and y/n parents and comparing us to phil that’s not..that’s not how it works okay!”
“parent arc!”
“y/n, don’t encourage them!”
“it’s a little bit funny!”
soon enough the bit came to an end and eventually ranboo ended the stream.
“hey boo look what i got you”
you handed him a little black box, inside was a ring similar to yours
“i promise to always stick around and be here for you”
“oh my god”
ranboo tackled you into a hug thanking you several times for his rings. you and ranboo were living your best life meanwhile jack, tommy, and tubbo were stuck dealing with the guilt of what happened, but they’re weren’t giving up that easy. they wanted you both back, that’s when you received a notification, tommyinnit has sent you a message request: hey y/n can we talk..please?
@dumb-chaotic-bi-energy @uselesssapphickitten @l0ver0fj0y @etheriaaly @xx-smiley-xx @hawarun @kylobensgirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @reverse-iak @renleicrashed @augustine-is-joy @c1loudee
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therenlover · a year ago
Rest (A Helmut Zemo/Reader Oneshot)
(This wasn’t a request, it was just something I wrote for myself based on the anxiety I’ve been feeling lately)
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Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Soft!Helmut Zemo, Anxiety, Ambiguous Ending, Crying, Cuddling, On The Run
Rating: T
Warnings: Talks About Death (The reader and Zemo will be walking into a potentially dangerous situation where one or both could die)
Word Count: 3200~
This fic has been crossposted under the same title to my AO3!
One snip.
One wrong snip was all it would take for everything to fall apart.
Your fingers trembled around the scissors in your hand as you lined them up at the edge of the thin plastic card you held in your opposite one. This ID would be for Helmut, with a picture similar enough to his usual look that it wouldn’t get him stopped but different enough that his face wouldn’t ring any bells. Trying to hide someone on the US government’s most wanted list whose face was plastered on the walls of every airport, dock, and train station in plain sight made things difficult, but you managed.
Slowly, you closed the jaws of the scissors and watched the sliver of plastic drop to the desk. Perfect. You let go of a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.
It was a kind of art to you. You picked names, doctored photos, forged documents. At the moment you were fixing a rough edge. Technically a dremel would have been more helpful, leaving behind a smoother, cleaner finish than the small jagged lip and small slant caused by scissors, but it would have been far too loud. Your husband was enjoying his rest in the adjoining room of your suite. Waking him would mean letting him know you weren't still beside him, and neither of you would want to do that. So, you focused on your work. It was all you had left to do. You chuckled under your breath.
There would always be something else, there would never actually be a ‘one last thing’ that remained the last, but this was what you needed to get done before sleeping. You focused in on the plastic card in your hands again. Just a few more minutes…
Minutes quickly turned into hours.
It was easier, you told yourself, to just get everything done in one go. When you looked up from your next project and out the window the city lights were starting to disappear as more businesses closed up and even night owls began to settle down. The clock on the wall displayed an angry, red 3:47 down at you. Was it really that late.
A yawn escaped from your lips. You would just finish up forging the seal on your new birth certificate and then you’d go to bed. Really this time. As you mixed the watery, almost transparent ink, you tried to remember the last time you’d slept. It couldn’t have been the night before because you had stayed up and kept watch on the train ride up to Munich just in case they asked to see identification. Helmut may have been wanted, but you weren’t. It would be much easier to slip by when you did the talking. You hadn’t slept the night before that one either, too busy putting the finishing details on the facial prosthesis your husband wore while traveling.
In the end, through your hazy mind, you noted that a few days prior you had slept in the back of a taxi on the way to the little bed and breakfast the two of you had spent the night in. It hadn’t been more than a nap really, 20 minutes curled up with your head against the window and your fingers loosely intertwined with Helmut’s as he talked to the driver, but it was something.
You realized, then, that you couldn’t remember the last time you had slept through the night. That was… well, there wasn’t any way to sugar coat it, it was a pretty big problem. Your weary eyes glanced down at the half-mixed ink. All you had to do was finish mixing and put on the stamp. Somehow, though, even doing that felt impossible. You were stuck in an endless battle between your aching limbs and your fear of a long, painful death in a maximum-security prison. Without you even noticing the lamp behind you buzzed to life.
The loop had to end sometime, so you resigned yourself to the fact that you just wouldn’t sleep until after tomorrow’s flight. Today’s, you had to correct yourself. It was well past midnight now. You added a small drop of a salt solution to the ink to help it look more aged, sighing when your fingers wouldn’t stay still long enough to prevent the dropper from dripping excess onto the table. Just a few more hours. It was the least you could do.
What drove you forward was more than apathy, though. It was terror. Every night, when you forged documents and prepared itineraries for the two of you, you held your husband’s life in your hands. If you made one small error it could get him sent back to prison or worse, killed. That wasn’t even mentioning what would happen to you. A chill ran down your whole body. No, that wasn’t allowed to happen. You’d sooner forge documents until your fingers bled than ever let that happen, and if losing sleep meant you had ten extra layers of protection against losing him then you’d never sleep again.
Suddenly, a soft voice, rough and accented, sounded behind you.
You jumped. Once you realized it was just Helmut and not someone there to kill you, though, you let yourself slump back into your chair. “Go back to sleep, Helmut,”
“Without you?”
“I’ll be just a minute, I promise. Just… please go back to sleep,” Almost every part of you hoped he couldn’t hear the quiver in your voice but a tiny shout coming from somewhere in your heart was hoping that, just maybe, he cared enough that he would. You could hear the sheets rustling behind you, but then you were greeted with silence again. Thank god. Helmut wouldn’t be happy if he knew just how hard you had been working yourself. The exhaustion, not to mention the stress of months on the run, made you shy away from him, but it was worth it to know that the two of you would be safe. Even if you weren’t happy, you’d be alive, and that was what counted.
“What are you working on this late?”
“Shit!” You exclaimed, “You can’t just sneak up on me like that! I could’ve spilled the ink,”
With the stealth of a man who had led a special forces death squad, Helmut had managed to get out of bed without making a sound, only revealing his position directly behind you when he spoke. It was probably just the exhaustion, but you had almost flown out of your seat at the sound of his voice despite its soft tone. When you turned to look at him, he was frowning.
For a moment you focused on his face. You had always loved him like this, unguarded and fresh from sleep with stubble on his chin and a fog of adoration in his eyes. There were no games with this Zemo. It was just love.
“Is everything alright, Liebling?” He asked. You heaved a sigh.
“I’m just trying to get this birth certificate done. We have all our basics; the passports, IDs, travel papers, and falsified employment records have been done for a while. I’m just making sure all of our bases are covered. It wouldn’t make sense for a couple moving from a different country with no return planned to not bring their birth certificates. I just have to finish putting on the watermark that makes them look legitimate,”
He nodded, but his brow was furrowed. “I… you’re right, but I doubt they’ll be checking us over that thoroughly when we land on a private airstrip. People with money are afforded some luxuries that others are not when it comes to emigration,” After he paused, his hand found its way onto your shoulder. “You didn’t eat your dinner,”
Your whole body stiffened.
Fuck. Helmut was too damn perceptive.
You let your eyes wander to the corner of the table you had set up shop on where the small, plastic clamshell of pasta still sat, long cold. “I wasn’t hungry,”
“We hadn’t eaten since yesterday. You still haven’t,”
With a deliberately slow pace, Helmut stepped to your side and squatted down to your level, searching your face to try to understand what was wrong. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eye. If you did, he’d know you fucked up, and that meant a fight was on the way despite the fact that you had only ever done what you did for his benefit. Not to mention how ashamed you were. He should be with someone who had their shit together and wasn’t cracking under the pressure. There were probably hundreds if not thousands of women out there who would die to be in your shoes. It made your stomach turn.
You couldn’t hide from him, though, not when he reached over a gentle hand and let it rest under your chin, tilting your face to see his. He looked so upset… Maybe it was the lack of sleep, or the fact that you hadn’t eaten, or even just the corner you’d backed yourself into, but you were starting to feel a welling of pressure in your chest as tears pricked at the corners of your eyes.
“Please, Schatz, tell me what I can do to help you? What hurts?” He asked with all the tenderness in the world, and you just broke. An ugly sob ripped its way from your throat as you collapsed into his arms and just cried. You cried for the months you’d spent constantly jet-lagged, and cried for the trips you’d spent terrified of being imprisoned or shot, and cried for the fact that you just knew that Helmut would be disappointed that you didn’t ask for his help. It had just all been so much.  
Over time, though, the feeling got smaller.
It took a while as you sniffled into Helmut’s bare chest and gripped his arms like your life depended on it, but slowly you were able to make out more than just a jumbled mantra of I’m sorry’s and I love you’s. All the while he waited patiently. There was no anger, just worry. As you finally came back to him his top priority was making sure you never had to feel this way again.
“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you whimpered. He shook his head.
“There is absolutely nothing wrong with you, Schatz, not for feeling upset,”
“I just… I feel like if I ever slow down and stop being on high alert at all we’ll die. Like, I know that the way we live right now is dangerous and that the risk is inherent but I feel like everything falls on me and if I make one wrong move or slack off for one second something terrible will happen. I’m so scared, Helmut, I don’t know what to do,”
He hugged you tighter. When he spoke, he sounded almost guilty. “Y/N...”
“It’s not your fault. You do everything right and you make me feel so safe and I know you’d kill someone before you let me get hurt but I just can’t help but feel like everything is on my shoulders. I work and work and get stuff done and it’s good! My forgeries are fucking great if I look at them objectively. I can’t do that, though. I just feel so… not good enough. Like no matter how many perfect documents I forge or how many border agents we fool, if I don’t keep working to make sure I do even better than before we’ll somehow fall apart and get caught,”
It was as if you were finally able to put words to all the things plaguing your nightmares for months as Helmut rocked you, letting you fully slide off your chair and join him on the floor in his arms. He petted your hair, whispering sweet nothings to you in another language you didn’t quite understand. Suddenly, he switched to English.
“There’s a poem by Bayard Taylor that I loved as a child. Now, when I think of it, I think of you… I love thee, I love but thee, with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars are old,” it sounded like a melody through his sleep-rough voice, accent heavy on his tongue, “It’s okay now Schatz, you’re safe now,”
You sniffled. “I have nightmares. It makes it hard to sleep because whenever I close my eyes I see such terrible things. Having ones where I die are terrifying but it’s easier than the ones where I see you shot to bits in front of me and you tell me it’s my fault,” As you pressed closer to him, you felt him tense. “I can’t lose you Helmut, I just can’t. Please don’t leave me. I don’t wanna be alone,”
“And you never will,” he murmured, “I’m so sorry that I haven’t been there for you, Liebling. Now that I understand, though, I promise that things will be different,”
“You don’t have to-”
He shushed you, running a hand through your hair. “Let me care for you, let me dote on my wife,”
Who were you to deny him?
He carried you to the bed, laying you down on the soft sheets before pressing a soft kiss to your nose and climbing in after you, making sure to keep his arms around you as an anchor to reality.
“I cannot promise you an easy life, and I will resent that until the day I die, but I can promise you that I will never allow us to be separated, nor will I allow any harm to befall you. You’ve been so good to me, Liebchen, always so eager to help me with whatever I need. I cannot thank you enough for that, but I also cannot allow you to run yourself into the ground like this. Not for my sake. Not when I could have just as easily purchased us documents from my sources. You are my wife first and my best friend second, but my accomplice last,”
As he reassured you, you felt the last of your tears slip down your face. Helmut had such a way with words. It was like he could exude any emotion at the drop of a hat and create a sort of aura that spread around him. He wanted you to feel calm, loved, and you did. For the first time in months you, really, truly did.
“Will things be like this forever?” you asked.
Helmut shook his head no. “Not forever. Later today we shall arrive in Latveria. Once we’re through the border, hopefully, it’s only a short drive from the airstrip to the home of my good friend Victor. I called him today, and as long as we get into the country undetected he will shelter us. If all goes well, we will be living happily in a manor in the Latverian countryside for the rest of our days by tomorrow,”
You smiled. With your face in his neck, you could smell his cologne and feel his blood pumping beneath his skin. He was alive and real and you trusted him. If he said you would be safe, you would be. Even if it were a lie you would’ve chosen to believe it anyway. When he held you and kissed your lips softly with his own, you knew you would follow him to the grave if he asked.  
“Yes, Schatz?”
“If… if something terrible were to happen, if they caught us at the border and tried to take you, what would happen?”
“I will be honest, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about that, but if anything that only makes me more sure that everything will be okay. If they attempt to take me into custody I will simply kill every person who stands in our way, return to the jet, and have them fly us both to the empty space where Sokovia used to be. We shall escape to the hills and return to Latveria through the mountains on foot. There are plenty of people there that support me and the things I’ve done. We will be safe,”
“And if they shoot you? Or me? If we don’t make it out?”
Something between a growl and a rumble came from deep in Helmut’s chest.
“If I were to die, I would do whatever it took to protect you in my last moments, whether that meant using myself as a shield or acting as if you were my captive to assure you weren’t taken into custody, and as I left this world I would know I was with the one person I love in this world. If… if you were injured- which you won’t be, Y/N, you are safe with me- I would do everything I could to save you… I-” he scrubbed a hand over his face, “Forgive me, but I cannot even fathom it. As you need me, I need you. Besides, it is simply impossible. I would never let them touch you,”
You sat with that information, pensive. It was entirely plausible that several hours later once your plane had touched down in Latveria and you had made it to the border agents, neither of you would end up alive. This could be the last of these moments you ever shared, and yet you were at peace. Being there, in his arms, even just for a moment… that was enough.
Outside the window, the sun was just starting to rise on the horizon, shedding its pinks and purples and yellows through the window in rays that illuminated Zemo’s face like some sort of golden god, chiseled out of the finest marbles by the hands of some master craftsman with a dream. Was he to be Hades? Luring you to hell and ruin with the temptation of pomegranate seeds? Or maybe he was Orpheus and you were simply too hesitant to keep from turning back. You hoped for neither. If you had to choose he was your Eros, a God of love who, after trials and tribulations, overcame and finally brought you up to his side as an equal when you married.
Would you be remembered? Or would your myth be lost to time once the two of you had decayed to dust and mud?
The feeling of Helmut’s lips on your forehead broke you out of your thoughts. You gazed up at him, smiling, and found he was looking right back at you.
“We’ll be resting soon, Schatz, everything will be okay soon…”
You smiled. “I love you, Helmut. Wake me up before we need to leave?”
“Ich liebe dich auch, Schatz. I’ll make sure you’re up when I order some breakfast,”
With one last gentle kiss on the lips, you settled into his chest for sleep. You both would be resting soon, one way or another. All you could do was wait.
a/n: I hope you enjoyed this! I’ve been really anxious and not doing well lately, so it was nice to write something really catered to my own needs. Now that I’ve finished it up, I can move back to requests! Thanks for being so patient. 
TAGLIST: @tatestripedsweater​ , @elaineygrace​, @multiyfandomgirl40​ ,  @lovelymischief​ , @rami-malek-trash​ , @dazzlingseb ​, @avgravy​ , @sarahsilver , @wh0re-4-techno​ , @forcebros​ , @sugarsweetkiss​ , @grandmuffinsharkbailiff​ , @killsandthrills​ , @novasstudy​ , @thnksfr-ptrkstmp​ , @inmate-marmalade​ , @mossybank​ , @simsiddy​ , @xxspqcebunsxx​
Please don’t post my work to other sites, thanks!
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vibesandwonders · a year ago
“The what?”
“The Lord of the Rings,” Sam stops dead, and jogs back to him, “You serious? You said you read the Hobbit?”
“JRR Tolkien?”
“Yes.” Bucky runs a hand through his hair and sighs.
“But you don’t know The Lord of the Rings?”
“If you keep repeating it, maybe it’ll catch this time.”
Sam’s mouth falls open, “Mother of— they froze you before Lord of the friggin Rings?”
Bucky blows out a blast of annoyed air and moves to run, Sam grabs his forearm, “Stop that, we’re talkin—“
“—We are running.”
“Not anymore,” Sam leans his weight on Bucky and laughs, “Shit. I always forget that they popsicled you,” He shakes his head, “Tolkien, he wrote the Hobbit yeah, but like… ten years later he wrote a Trilogy, the Trilogy, like, the one to rule them all.”
“Are they any good?”
Sam practically squeals with laughter, his arm still looped inside Bucky’s, “Yes.” He says, emphatically, grinning so much that Bucky is tempted to smile back, almost, “The movies are good too.”
“Moving pictures?” Sam grins wider, “Talkies?”
Bucky tilts his head, rolls his eyes, already ready to run again, Sam’s having none of it, he starts pulling Buck back the way they came,
“What about the run?”
“This,” Sam insists, “Is more important, we gotta head back,”
“It’s 7am.”
“Exactly, which means we’ve got time to hit the store on the way home,”
“Provisions, we’re gonna be busy all day, we need to have snacks and keep hydrated.”
“Extended editions baby, this is a 12-hour Lord of the Rings lockdown,” He grins at Bucky, “Consider yourself absolutely blessed that I was nerdy as hell in high school. I gotta text Torres, tell him we are taking the day off.”
“You’re taking a day off, from being Captain America?”
“He’ll understand.”
~ Hours later~
“Bucky,” He sighs, and plants his palms on the kitchen countertop, “James Buchanan Barnes,” Nothing.
He takes his phone out and pauses the damn TV,
The man in question rotates very slightly, his eyes wide, red, in shock, also as pissed as Sam had quite possibly ever seen him, including the time he was kicked off a domestic flight home because of his ‘metal arm’.
“You good?” Sam asks,
“So they just left him? After he sacrificed himself to get them out and across the bridge of Khazad-dûm and away from the Balrog?”
Oh Jesus,
“The bridge of Khaza—" He stops himself, chuckles, can't help it, he shouldn't surprised by this and yet, "Yeah man, they couldn’t—“
“What? Walk out there and grab his hands? There were eight men,” He shakes his head incredulously, “Bilbo’s nephew, wouldn’t walk twenty feet to save Gandalf?”
“Wait wait, Are you crying man?” He smirks, teasing, “There are two and a half more movies to go Buck, and you’re already out here cryin’ your ass off, you gotta chill—“
Bucky regards him sourly, “Have you even read the Hobbit?”
“Not even gonna dignify that kinda hostility with an answer James.”
He unpauses the tv and digs through the fridge, a moment later, the TV pauses again,
“Sorry.” Bucky mutters, “I uh, I’m enjoying them.”
“I can tell.” Sam says, and again, a grown-ass man getting way too sucked in to a High Fantasy trilogy 60 years late shouldn’t be damn adorable, but it is, “You hungry, oh member of the fellowship?”
Bucky rolls his eyes, turns back around,
“Is there coffee?”
Sam grins, and starts filling the water kettle.
“We, are gonna take a break.”
Bucky spins, finger already on the remote to jump to the next movie, Sam shakes his head.
“You haven’t eaten yet, and this is our…shit, third pot of coffee.”
“But they’re taking the hobbits to Isengard.”
Sam cackles, “Yeah, you are indeed correct, that is happening, but, we got 8 more hours of cinematic masterpiece, and you— are gonna eat somethin’”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Would Aragorn not sustain himself while trying to rescue Merry and Pippin?” He asks dramatically,
Another eyeroll, but he stands and stretches, folding one of the new blankets that had somehow started appearing randomly inside his apartment.
“How do you feel about cookies?”
He watches the top of his head twist, but Bucky’s eyes don’t leave the screen, “Thought we were eating lunch?”
Sam laughs, “Thai?”
He texts Sarah, attaches a picture of Bucky swathed in a blanket, staring in fascination at the TV.
“He’s never seen Lord of the Rings.” And then a bunch of laughing emojis.
“So where’s Rohan in relation to Mordor?” Bucky asks over the top of the couch, “They keep talking about the Gap of Rohan, but then…”
“Google it.”
“You’ve got your phone.” Bucky argues, “Do library books still have the maps in the back nowadays?”
Sam’s already got his app open, Complete Works of JRR Tolkien, Hardback
He swipes and makes sure they have maps— New York freakin City, it’ll be delivered before they finish the second one.
“Sam needs to kill Gollum.”
He looks up at the mention of his name, grinning at the screen, then back at the microwave: he lost rock, paper, scissors, so popcorn’s on him.
Bucky purses his lips, unimpressed, “He is clearly untrustworthy, “
“Sam’s also a little jealous of Frodo’s attention, they’ve been one-on-one for a while now,”
“I guess,”
“Frodo also sees a lot of himself in Smeagol, what he could have become…”
Bucky pauses the movie, “they’ve still got those elf-blades.” He mutters, “He’s talking to himself, and creeping off in the night, Sam should kill him, and tell Frodo he found him that way.”
“He was Aragorn’s best friend,” Bucky murmurs, his voice is a little choked up, “He came to defend the men of Rohan.”
Sarah’s texted him back:
“Oh god, you found another geek.” She says, “Are ya’ll gonna like have a Star Trek themed wedding?”
Bucky’s got the second book open across his knees, his fingers holding it open so he can occasionally frown down at the maps.
“He died protecting him.”
“They had a bond.” Sam agrees, “Read the appendices, there’s loads more about the elves. Just wait until you get deep in the Silmarillion.”
“Yeah.” Bucky says, only half-listening, “Starting to think his ‘heir of Gondor’ schtick is getting old, man can’t even protect his friends— and where is Gandalf?”
“Are you shitting on Aragorn? Son of Arathorn?”
Bucky shrugs, “Just seems like he’s avoiding his calling, what he’s good at, born to do… running from it, cause he’s scared.”
“It’s a lot of responsibility he didn’t ask for.” Sam replies mildly,
“Tough shit. Sometimes you just gotta use the cards you’re dealt.” Bucky stands, “I gotta pee.”
“You think I should grow my hair out?”
Sam hides his grin, making an effort not to stare at Aragorn on screen, who is currently smoldering with the best of them,
“I think you should do whatever makes you happy, Buck.” He takes a sip of his coffee (decaf this time) and stares fondly (not really) at the side of Bucky’s face. Sure, he’s distracted, but at least this time it’s not damn mission files.
Buck grunts, they’re sprawled next to each other on the couch, knees touching, blankets shared and spread between them. Between bathroom breaks and Sam occasionally poking Bucky to make sure he was still breathing, personal space had become even less of an issue than usual. Not that Sam was terribly bothered by it. They’re roommates, sorta? Partners?
A couple of guys.
“So, Arwen or Eowyn?” Bucky asks, still unblinking, Sam is pretty sure he unleashed a monster, cause this boy is a nerd. He’s already googled other trilogies, on Sam’s phone. Sam is pretty sure movie night might become a thing.
Buck’s still waiting on his answer, it’s a timeless question to be sure, Sam pretends to ponder it.
“Eomer actually.” He says, keeping his eyes on the screen, “Loyal, strong, and the man knows how to ride.”
actual fic here plus others, leave some love, say hi,
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mrs-gucci · a year ago
A Different Kind of Urgent {Charlie Barber x Reader}
author’s notes: hellooooo! my penpal friend, a fellow adam driver rat, sent me a print of a charlie picture (that I’d seen a gajillion times before, mind you) and for some reason, I thirsted hard. so, naturally, I wrote a fic inspired by the picture. the reader in this story is a college professor, but it doesn’t really contribute to any ‘essential’ parts of the story (aka the smutty parts). it’s just her job lol
warnings: smut. some fluff. masturbation. semi-public smut. the sending of nudes (well, lingerie pics, to be specific). charlie’s dad outfits™️. cigarette smoking during sex. uhh tennis shoe kink??
(possible) tw’s: semi-public sex. semi-public masturbation. tobacco use (as is canon for Charlie’s character). implied age gap (everyone’s over 21, no more than 10 years).
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You’re in the middle of class when Charlie texts you. Your phone buzzes and buzzes on your desk so much so that you have to stop your lecture for a few seconds, worried that something urgent has happened.
Well, something did happen, and it was pretty urgent, but not exactly in the way you’d expected.
-Charlie: I know you’re teaching class right now kid.- -Charlie: But I need you.- -Charlie: Right now.-
A shiver runs down your spine as you read his words on the screen.
-Y/N: I’ve got like 45 more minutes of lecture, baby, I can’t.-
He growls under his breath, cock straining in his tan khakis.
-Charlie: Fuck.- -Charlie: Can you send me a picture? Just need to see your pretty body, kid.-
-Y/N: Say please, Charlie.-
Charlie groans in sexual frustration, hips bucking up in his desk chair.
-Charlie: Jesus fucking christ, fucking brat. PLEASE! PLEASE send me a picture!-
You smirk, picking out one of the lingerie photos you’d taken when you were home alone one night. You’ve been waiting for the right time to whip them out and...well, this seems like the right time.
-Y/N: Attachment 1 image- -Y/N: Knock yourself out. Take a picture when you’re done, and I’ll be over as soon as class is finished.-
His shaky hands scramble to type in his phone passcode and click on your message, a strangled moan leaving his lips at the picture you chose. He’d never seen this one before, never seen this set of lingerie before.  He unbuckles his belt and almost tears the button clean off his khakis as he pulls his cock out, tip already red and drooling with precum. 
Before he starts anything, he quickly runs over to his office door, locking it to keep anyone from walking in. 
His navy cardigan suddenly feels almost suffocating and he sheds it without hesitation, unbuttoning his dress shirt and parting it, revealing his undershirt. 
Wait...you want a picture. Fuck.
An idea comes to him and he whimpers, equal parts aroused and nervous about giving it a try. God he hasn’t touched himself since the divorce proceedings, just needing to blow off some fucking steam, but you’ve reignited his sexual passion, overwhelmingly so, and seemingly even more than before. Maybe even more than ever, if he’s honest with himself.
He feels like a teenager again, both completely smitten with you while at the same time incredibly horny for you.
Charlie stands up on shaky legs and shoves all the paperwork off his desk, clearing a roomy spot right in the center. He bites his lip as he props his phone up on his desktop computer with the picture of you pulled up. Jerking off with just his hand wouldn’t be enough this time around, a small part of him just knew it. He needs to fuck you, fuck something.
He positions his hands around the edge of his desk, leaving his thumbs right at the top, putting them in a wonky sort of ‘o’ shape. He adjusts so that the sharp edge is pressing against his palm before experimentally thrusting his length forward into the hole he’s created with his thumbs, immediately groaning in pleasure. 
“O-Oh, kid.”
He whispers, picking up a slow thrusting rhythm, eyes squeezed shut as he imagines your pussy.
“Such a good little pussy, my good f-fucking girl.” A line of sweat has already begun forming on his forehead as he moves a bit quicker, growling wildly with each thrust. He’s embarrassingly close already. “God, j-jesus fucking christ, gonna make me cum so f-fast, kid. I’m already s-so close, damnit.”
His hips grow desperate, bucking erratically into his grip. The drag of his cock against the faux wood surface feels absolutely incredible, and he barely even hears the desk begin to groan and shift against the floor of his office, too consumed with his impending orgasm.
“Yeah, you ready? Y-You fuckin’ ready for my big fat--fuck!--load in this pretty little--shit!--k-kitty?”
Just hearing him say the word aloud, his nickname for your cunt, has him cumming within moments. His vision blacks out for a second as his hips rut forward, a seemingly continuous stream of warm white cum painting his desktop. 
“Ahhhhh, fuuuuuuuck.”
He has to bury his mouth into his shirt arm to hide the cries that come from him, eyebrows knitted at the center of his forehead. His breathing is heavy as he begins coming down from his high, eyes flitting open and looking down at the mess he’d made. 
His load had gone across the entire width of his desk, and his eyes widened for a moment as his brain somehow comprehended to grab his phone and take a picture of the spread. 
-Charlie: Attachment 1 image- -Charlie: Come straight to my office when you get to the theater.-
You take a quick peek at the message from Charlie as your students pull out their workbooks, jaw dropping when you open the picture full-screen. Holy shit, he really did need it.
-Y/N: You sure you still have enough to fill me up with when I get there?-
-Charlie: I always have enough for you, kid. Gonna have it leaking out of you when you leave.-
You chew your lip, thinking of a quick yet clever response.
-Y/N: Is that a promise?-
He groans under his breath, chuckling lightly with a small smile.
-Charlie: Absolutely. Can’t wait to see you, kid.-
-Y/N: I’m excited too. I’ll be there in 20.-
The twenty minutes it takes for you to finish class and walk over to Exit Ghost feels like some of the longest in Charlie’s life, knee bouncing impatiently and eyes glued to the door. He twirls the Marlboro package in his hand, the clock behind his desk tick-tick-ticking the seconds away. 
Finally, a soft knock comes and, just in case it isn’t you, he stuffs the carton into his pocket. “Come in.”
Your head pokes through the door and you smile at him as you walk in, shutting and locking the door behind you. You immediately notice his outfit, specifically his shoes, which are propped up on his desk. 
He knows that you like how he dresses, especially when he dresses very dad-like. And those sneakers he has, the white ones with the blue lines on them...god, they drive you absolutely crazy and you have no idea why.
Your bags are quickly shoved off your shoulder by the impatient director, pulling you into his body as his lips attack yours fiercely. He notices the way you’re eyeing his outfit, and it’s then that he realizes what shoes he has on, the pair that you like so much. Oh, he could use that.
His grip on the meat of your hips tightens increasingly as the kiss heats up, lips eventually moving down to your neck. 
“Well, hello to you too.”
You say, laughing softly.
“Mmmm,” He hums onto your skin, lips littering kisses and small nibbles everywhere they can reach. “I missed you, kiddo, feels like forever since we’ve had time for something like this.”
Charlie’s large body presses you up against the door, hands eager to rid you of your pants. He quickly yanks them down to your ankles, fingers finding your clothed folds.
“I’ve got a staff meeting at two, baby. We h-have to be kind of quick...sorry.” You breathe, hand wrapping in his hair, tugging at the silky raven locks.
A small and slightly disappointed sigh leaves his lips, but nothing more is said on the matter. His movements do become a bit more rushed, though, digits dipping beneath the fabric to shove up into your entrance. 
Your legs spread instinctively, knees shaking as he finger-fucks you, thick digits scissoring inside you to prepare for his girth. Meanwhile, you try to focus on getting his belt and pants undone, but it’s awfully hard when his fingers feel so damn good.
He pulls away suddenly, sucking the juices off his fingers as his hungry eyes roam your figure. The carton of cigarettes presses against his thigh and he smirks, pulling his digits out with a lewd pop.
Charlie suddenly pulls you off the door, putting himself in your spot instead. He smirks, fingers running under your chin, keeping your head tilted up at him.
“Will you go open the window for me please, beautiful?”
You nod, rushing over to push it open, then come back over to stand in front of him.
“Good girl. Thank you.”
His pointer finger twirls and points to the floor while the other hand grabs the pack and lighter from his pants pocket.
“Now, turn around and bend over right here, hold your ankles or feet, or whatever.”
As you position yourself accordingly, he leans back against the door, legs spread and sneaker-clad feet planted on either side of you, right within your line of vision. He’s almost fully hard again already as he moves to free his cock from its khaki confines, undoing his pants just enough to have it out. 
Again, his cardigan feels suffocatingly hot, so he quickly pulls it off and tosses it away. He rolls the sleeves up on his button-up, a sight that makes your insides clench.
He jams a cigarette between his teeth, jaw clenching when he looks up and realizes that you’re bent over for him, in just the way he asked. Your glistening pussy’s on full display as you wiggle your ass a bit, his cock bobbing and twitching with excitement. 
“Oh kid, you’re dripping.” Charlie whispers, almost to himself, hand kneading one of the globes of your ass.
You chuckle softly. “Hey, baby? As much as I love hearing and feeling you, my legs are getting kinda tired.”
Laughing, Charlie says a quick ‘sorry’ before holding and pulling your hips back, lining himself up with your soaked entrance. He pulls you back some more, impaling you on his cock, head falling back against the door as he does so. 
His hands shakily ignited the small flame on his lighter, bringing it up until the tip of the cigarette turned orange before flipping the cap back on and shoving it back in his pocket. He takes a long drag, groaning on the exhale. 
He keeps one hand on your hip while the other spreads out on your lower back, guiding you back and forth over his shaft slowly, gently.
“Thaaat’s it, just like this, kid.”
Your eyes roll into the back of your head, the impossibly deep angle created with this new position has it feeling like he’s reaching into your guts. Plus, with the natural up-curve of his cock, he’s brushing all the right spots inside you.
The familiar and comforting scent of Charlie’s cigarettes fills your nostrils, a haze of smoke surrounds your joined bodies. He continues to move you up and down on his length, buttocks clenching as his hips naturally rock forward, burying himself to the hilt each time you sink down.
“God...jesus christ...love this little pussy of yours, kid.” He breathes through his gritted teeth. “Taking me so nicely, always wrapped around me so goddamn tight.”
You quickly begin moving yourself up and down his stiff rod, bouncing as fast as you can manage. The sweet burn in your thighs only grows more prominent with each passing second, but you don’t care, too consumed in pleasure.
“Mmmmmyyyeah, baby, all for you.”
His hand comes down on your ass, giving it a firm smack before taking another quick drag, exhaling through his nose.
“That’s f-fucking right, all mine. You love being a little slut for this cock, huh? I know you do, you love when I bring you in my office and fuck your pretty cunt in the middle of the goddamn work day, can’t even wait until I get home, this f-filthy slut cunt needs to be split open and stuffed nice and full. Can’t go one fucking day without my cum fucked in you, always needs to be filled up and leaking, hm?”
Charlie was never able to do stuff like this or talk to Nicole like this. She was pretty vanilla when it came to sex, just like to be fucked quietly in bed. He called her a ‘slut’ once and she almost cried, lecturing him for half an hour afterwards on how disrespectful it was.
But now, he gets to explore everything he hasn’t gotten the chance to with you. You love it all, love the way he talks filth in your ear, calls you naughty names. You love getting fucked in all sorts of places, which at first made him a little nervous, cheeks and the tips of his ears bright red when you asked him to fuck you in your classroom or finger you under your dress on the subway. But, after almost a year and a half together, you can safely say that he’s a full-on exhibitionist deviant.
Your walls clamp down around him, eyes still squeezed shut as you feel his hips begin to thrust forward. Soon, he holds you almost completely still, moving his hips as fast as he can. His cigarette is almost ashes at this point, and he kicks himself for not thinking of a good disposal plan beforehand.
“Oh baby, oh baby...f-fuck!” You whine, hips squirming and gyrating as your impending orgasm grows closer. “Y-Yeah, I love it, love everything you do to me. Wanna take every s-single fucking drop of your cum, Charlie, want it inside me, want it dripping down my thighs.”
He almost loses his mind over your comments, drilling into you at an impossibly hard and fast rate, the lewd slapping squelching sound of your hips colliding overwhelmingly prominent in the space around you. 
“You’ll go back to work with so much cum shoved into you, make you sit through your stupid fucking meeting with my cum dripping out of you. B-Better hope no one notices, huh? Better hope your boss doesn’t find out what a good little cockslut you are, how much you love having a pussy-full of your boyfriends f-fucking cum.”
A few muted cries leave your lips as he pounds you harder, his own words spurring him on. He can feel your walls pulsing around him, a sure-fire sign that you’re about to cum. 
“C-Charlie! Charlie, I...I’m close.”
“K-Know you are, kid, I know you are. You’re doing so f-fucking well for me, Y/N, squeezing my big cock like a fuckin champ.” Charlie growls, quickly tossing his spent cigarette in a coffee mug on a nearby table. “And now you’re gonna rub your little clit and cum for me like I know you want to. C’mon, kid, wanna feel you come undone around me.”
You quickly begin rubbing your clit and, despite the odd angle, it brings you right up to the edge. You just need something, just a little something, to push you over the edge. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him, but then, you’re met with the sight of his sneakers.
“Goddamnit!” You’re cumming almost instantly, flooding his shaft with your release. “Yes! Oh god, yeah, c-cumming for you baby!”
His hips keep pumping, taking you right through your climax before abruptly coming to a halt when they’re buried as deep inside you as they can possibly be. His eyes go wide before squeezing shut, a guttural groan ripping through his chest as he pumps and shoves his thick creamy load into you.
“T-Take it, f-filthy whore!” He groans, rutting his hips the whole way through, making sure every drop is put inside you.
Once he’s finished, having ridden out his high to its fullest, he tucks himself back into his pants before helping you stand back up. He holds you close, looking down at you with a bright, genuine smile. 
“You’re amazing, incredible...just so perfect.” He kisses all over your face before landing on your lips.
Your cheeks heat up at his compliments, hands weaving through his hair as the kiss deepens. 
Suddenly, someone knocks on your office door, jiggling the doorknob.
His eyes fly open and he pulls away. Shit.
“Yeah, I’m h-here, just give me a minute!”
You quickly pull your pants up and jump under his desk to hide just as he opens the door, running a hand through his hair. 
He talks to the person on the other side of the door in a rushed voice, answering their multitude of questions before quickly shutting the door, sighing as you crawl out from under the desk. 
“At least we both got to cum, unlike last time.” You walk up and put your hands on his pecs, rubbing them over the fabric. “I gotta get going though, baby. I wanna grab lunch from the deli before my staff meeting.”
Charlie nods, dipping his head down to kiss you one last time, nuzzling his large nose against yours. 
“Come over tonight, though? Nicole’s in town and she’s got Henry, so we’ll have the house to ourselves. I feel like we haven’t spent any quality time together lately.”
Nodding, you smile. “I would love to come over. I’ll text you when I get home.”
“Great.” He smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you later, kid. Have a good meeting.”
You laugh as you grab your bag and head out, turning back to wave and flash him a soft smile.
“See you tonight.”
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wastelandcth · a year ago
Love Again - cth
sad disco - part one
summary: used to be afraid of love and what it might do but goddamn, you got me in love again. 
author’s notes: thanks again for your patience on this one! based on love again - dua lipa!
warnings: mentions of sexual themes, mentions of food, angst. 
masterlist || request ||  join my taglist!
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Sometimes, Calum's heart beat so loud that he was sure the entire world could hear it. He felt the pounding in his chest, left breathless by the sheer power of the muscle that kept his blood pumping. Sometimes, Calum thought that his heart had simply forced itself into hiding, protecting Calum from any more hurt and heartbreak. Those were the times where the pounding was dull and ached, almost as if the one thing keeping him alive was the reason for him shutting down. He liked to think that's who he could blame now, his heart for wanting to protect him from another heartbreak. 
But no, Calum had done that on his own. 
Calum had barely left his house. Ever since that night when he'd been a fool and let you go, he had decided that hiding away in his house was his best course of action. He had hated the way the tears in your eyes fell down onto Ashton's shoulder. More so, he hated the fact that he was the reason for those tears. He hadn't known the true reason until early the next morning when his pounding headache and the blaring phone had woken him up. He'd winced through Ashton's explanation of the night's events after Calum had been left alone in a club, wishing that he could just erase the night and never had it have happened. 
"She's....she's really hurt man, you should really talk to her," Ashton sighed, the man sounding way too awake and not hungover like Calum was, "You both need to tell each other the truth."
"I doubt she wants to talk to me," Calum sighed, "I'm going to give her some space."
"Cal-" Ashton started, a sigh evident in his voice as Calum interrupted him.
"Thanks for taking care of her, Ash."
You weren't sure where things had gone wrong. You'd never been one to cry over useless drama or men, especially not when those men were nothing but a friend to you. But life had a funny way of throwing curveballs at you and you'd found yourself stuck on your living room couch most days, staring up at the ceiling to try and stop the tears. Those pesky tears that fell no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself that you were stronger than this and that a man was not worth your tears, especially one who had technically done nothing wrong. Sure, Calum had been single, he'd been allowed to dance with whoever he wanted to because he was an adult and that was his business. But Calum had never wanted to dance with you. 
It had been two weeks since that night, where you shamelessly cried to Ashton as the city lights passed by the two of you, two weeks since Calum and you hadn't spoken. Before, when things were nice and friendly, you two couldn't go a day without talking. Text messages, phone calls, and airdrops were common occurrences between the two of you so the radio silence was killing you. The number of times a funny picture or tiktok reminded you of him, the urge to send it to Calum forcing you to push more tears down, had been too many in the past couple of days. You'd even cut off nights out with your friends, fearing that Calum would be there and you'd be forced to talk about that night. It hurt, even more, knowing that the thought of going out again to that club wouldn't be the same, that dancing would never feel the same. All because of a stupid man with an addicting smile and humor to match your own. 
Calum had been hesitant about Ashton's proposal. He was used to having nights out together, getting dinner, and then going back to his place to watch a movie or play video games until the mind-numbing hours in the morning. But Calum hadn't left his house in weeks and he knew this was Ashton's way to tell him to get his shit together and get over himself. He knew that this game night was just another way for Ashton to knock some sense into him, a way for Calum to maybe score some free food and booze and pretend to listen to his friend tell him to get his head out of his ass. So without another thought, Calum grabbed his jacket and made his way to Ashton’s house.
Ashton had promised you that the movie night would consist of watching shitty romcoms, eating ice cream, and having way too many fries from McDonald’s. You’d been wary about the night out, knowing that Ashton had been trying to get you out of your living room for days on end, but you knew that he had been trying his best to make you feel better. A night out was what you needed, the lack of socialization and the promise of ice cream the pushing force to get you into your car and driving towards Ashton’s house. As you pulled into the driveway, you saw Ashton standing outside, waving over at you and grinning.
“You made it! Come inside,” Ashton cheered as you got out of the car, leading you into the comfort of his home, “The pizza should be here soon.”
Walking into the living room, you froze as you saw a familiar head of curly hair sitting on Ashton's couch. Calum, who was way too focused on the video game in front of him, looked just as breathtaking as he always looked. His messy curls were splayed across his forehead, his shoulders tense as he took a sharp turn on the race he was in. He looked so beautiful and all the sadness from the past weeks disappeared the second you heard him laugh. But the familiar sound of a car leaving a driveway made your shoulders and your breath hitch when Calum's head turn and his eyes met yours. 
"Oh..." Calum breathed out, his eyes widening as he set the controller down, the screen behind him coming to a still, much like the air between you both. 
"Hey you two, it's Ashton," Ashton's voice rang out from a speaker, "Please don't hate me but we all know this was meant to happen and it's been weeks so...." he chuckled nervously, "You both have feelings for one another and I'm not going to let you through that away. So, I'm leaving you two alone and I just hope you guys don't fuck on my bed." 
You both stood in silence, listening to Ashton's words echoed in your heads as you both stared at one another. Calum's eyes watched as you slowly walked towards the couch, watched as your hands cupped the side of his face, and pulled him into a kiss. The kiss made you both gasp into each other's mouth, made you both finally jump across that thin line you both had danced around for countless nights and countless days. It was the scissors that finally snipped the string that had strung between them. The kiss was all the words that neither of them could say. 
The door to Ashton's guest room was pushed open, the darkness of the room hiding both of you. The bed was creaking, every thrust and every rock of hips met with the sound of skin meeting. Calum's silver chain was hanging above you, brushing against your chest with every thrust of his hips, the cold metal a relief from the heat that spurred between you both. Your hand found Calum's arm in the dark, trailing down his forearm until your fingers wrapped around his wrist and brought it up to your neck. 
"Fuck, baby," Calum breathed out, his ring-clad fingers wrapping around the base of your throat.
As the mattress underneath you both rocked and the headboard bumped into the wall behind you, you felt closer and closer to Calum. You felt the passion through every rock of his hips, through every grunt and breathy sigh that left him. It was all the passion and unsaid words that had gone unspoken between the two of you for months. And when the high came crashing down upon you both, when the moans echoed through the room and hips stilled, you knew that you'd found the one who made your heart race again. 
"I'm sorry," Calum mumbled and sighed quietly, "I...I should've called earlier and tried to fix this, I just...I don't even know," he sighed and shook his head as his fingers traced soft circles onto your hip.
"No, I was just, I never even thought you could ever have feelings for me and I hurt my own feelings," you mumbled and frowned, "I pushed you away and I can't even begin to apologize."
"I think we were both just...scared?" he sighed and shrugged, "Afraid of whatever we were headed towards."
"I was afraid to lose you," you whispered, "Afraid that I had lost you that night when I saw you dancing with her."
"I wanted to show you I could dance," he chuckled quietly and bit his lip, "I saw you dancing with that guy and I...I don't know I thought I could make you jealous enough to have you dance with me." 
"You could've just asked," you whispered and shook your head, "I'd always dance with you."
And in a way, Calum knew that meant that you loved him too.
Your soft breaths hit Calum's neck, the soft puffs of air leaving him in disbelief that you were actually laying next to him. The past few weeks had left him wondering if he'd ever get to see you again, to be next to you. But the night had changed in such a quick instant that Calum had forgotten he was in Ashton's house for a second.  He'd gone from playing video games on his best friend's couch to sleeping with the love of his life, finally telling you the truth about how he felt. He'd gone from being someone who tried to run away from love, run away from being open, to let himself be vulnerable in front of someone who he'd hurt. He wasn't afraid of letting his feelings be known any more and even if it felt surreal in that bed where you slept next to him, he could believe that he was in love with you. 
All he had to do now was take you out dancing
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lamourche · a year ago
The Dinner Party |MYG| 11
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Chapter Eleven: In Which Things Get Worser
Genre/au:postgrad!au; relationship!au
Words: 6k
Tags for this chapter: angst and more angst
a/n: thank you for your patience with me and with this story. The last chapters will be posted this summer.
Chapter Ten / Chapter Twelve
Before y/n can blink her father stands in the doorway of her apartment. His balding head ducked under the jamb and his hands clasped. He looks for something to do. He isn't the kind of person who can sit still. Fixing a leaking sink, replacing a porch light, there is no memory of him that doesn't include a problem to be solved.
She points to a box to be carried to the station wagon, an old brooding convenience of a car. If she knew her father better, she would know why he kept it all this time.  Silently, he picks up the box and retreats out the doorway.
Like a new dollhouse needing furniture, the apartment is back to its graduate housing shell. There are only the odds and ends left to pack. The items she doesn't want, but doesn't want to throw away as if each were its own Velveteen Rabbit. She places these forgotten erasers and pencils, ticket stubs and receipts, pen caps and a pair of scissors into the last box, shuts the lid and tapes it closed.  Her father returns for more items, this time removing two mismatched suitcases.
Quickly, before she's ready to process what's happening – the last box is in the car, she makes a final look around, and she drops off the keys.  The year is over.  
Her father drives out of the parking lot. They don’t even have music to break the silence. He’s a civil engineer, building the parts of skyscrapers no one ever sees, the boring innards behind walls and above ceiling tiles.  The one time he visited y/n at college, she toured him around campus, and he commented that he didn’t like her studying in the library. It needed a retrofit, and he had concerns about asbestos. This is the language he speaks.  This is, she guesses, how he looks out for her.
She's too old for this, isn't she? Too old to be getting a ride home from her dad, too old to have him stop for her favorite fast food without having to ask, just handing over the burger and fries and milkshake.  Her father has always looked at her a bit like he might a Fae child switched at birth. As if he wonders what happened to his real child, the one who would've played soccer and been easy to talk to.
Ten miles from the exit, he brings it up.
“Your mother said you and your boyfriend broke up.” He doesn’t look at her when he says it. The only time he talks to her about anything serious is when he’s mandated by law not to look her in the eye. Hands at the ten and two.
She's sure whatever her mom said, it was a lot more than that.
“I’m not sure he was my boyfriend."
Her father clears his throat.
Y/n continues. “He was, actually. But it took me a while to understand. Are you supposed to interpret the silences like a mage with entrails?”
Her father still doesn’t look away from the interstate.
She can't be looking for relationship advice from her father. Is her life truly this desperate?
This car ride reminds her of the time when her father picked her up from a sleepover early.  Y/n had feigned sickness. Really, her friends had just been mean to her.  They knewshe was faking. But what was worse, putting up with them or them knowing she wanted to leave? She decided on the path that led to her own bed, even if it meant a different kind of humiliation – that she couldn't take it.  Why did she have to prove their cruelty didn't hurt to be their friend? Her mother had been out of town for one of her weekends away. What she needs to get away from, y/n has no idea.
“I don’t know about these things,” her dad says. He checks the rearview mirror and signals to change lanes. “Things were different when I was younger.”
Y/n can only imagine the way her mother must have dazzled him. She's pretty and flitty. She probably would’ve done better with a soccer playing tomboy, too – lord knows she didn’t get the girly girl she wanted.  She’s the only woman her father ever dated. When he makes a commitment, he doesn’t let the other person down.  Her mom doesn’t cheat or have credit cards no one knows about or drink too much wine and tell too many stories, but she’s happy in the small world she’s created for herself. Maybe y/n's more like her than she realized.
“But some things matter regardless of the year,” her dad says.  “You deserve to be treated kindly. If someone cares for you, they shouldn’t make you guess. If they keep you anxious, they aren’t worth it.”
“I don’t know if that’s what happened, exactly.” Y/n stares out the window at the green hills signaling the closeness of home. “I might not have been fair to him either.”
“Well, you’re my daughter so I don’t care about him. I just care that you’re happy and treated as you deserve.”
He says this last bit with a nod of his head, as if he memorized the words and is thankful to have gotten them out.
Y/n wants to say something to acknowledge her father’s heartfelt sentiment, but before she can think of anything, the car pulls up to the house. She hasn't been back since Christmas. The old feeling comes over her, the I-don't-fit-anywhere feeling. She never fucking fits.
“I’ll unpack the car,” her dad says, wiping the sweat from his brow. Does he get enough exercise? “Go talk to your mother, she’s anxious about you.”
Y/n walks up the cement steps to the two-story home, pristine with her father's upgrades. Her parents might have wished for another path for her, marriage or a graduate degree that could actually lead to a job, but her mother doesn’t mind when it leads back here, and she can fit her in among the potlucks and the bake sales and the church meetings.
“You look tired, honey,” she says when her call ends, something about replacing an oven at the church hall. “Go rest. We’re having dinner at six-thirty.”
“What are you doing here?” her brother asks as she climbs the stairs from the second floor to the attic.
“I’m leaving in four days.” Y/n ducks her head as she enters the small attic room. She moved up here when she was twelve years old. Too many brothers got to her. Her father moved her bed and desk, wired the room for electricity and put a screen in the window.  Looking at the small square of light, she feels like crying and she doesn't know why. She just has to get through the next four days and then she can get on a plane and pretend none of this happened.          
She empties her backpack on her old bed. The clothes from Yoongi’s apartment spill out.
Three days after the fight — What was it exactly? A conversation? A heart wrenching truth?— She got a text from him.
I’m gone all day today. The key is under the mat so you can get your stuff.
That’s Yoongi all over. No drama. Just packing and logistics.  After a cup of coffee, before her last shift at the library, she went to his place. The sun is shining and for an hour she convinces herself she isn't heartbroken over her idiocy and his.
The key is under the mat just as he said. He's gone, just as he said. For the first time she's in his apartment without him.  Well, he didn’t pack everything up and put it in the mail, so that’s good? Probably means that he didn’t want to take the time. The apartment is spotless, more than usual, more than ever.  She walks to the back of his apartment, quiet and slow as if it were a museum.  His room is also spotless. She opens the drawer to gather the clothes, every t-shirt and sweatshirt a memory. She folds them as if it matters, as if she has all the time in the world.  She can’t cry here, and all she does is cry lately. All Yoongi does is clean, it seems. Getting rid of every trace of her that he can find.  She's certain he’s tucked her away so she won’t disturb his present. Just like she always imagined, but now she knows that she helped herself get here.
She never imagined a different ending, so none was possible.
There’s nothing more to do, and there’s nothing more that can be said. Still, she wants to tear up things like a vengeful ghost. Do something to piss him off so entirely, he will never forget her. But that's not her, and that’s not what this is. She leaves as quietly as she arrived. She shuts the door behind her, locks the deadbolt, and sets the key under the mat.
* * *
 Yoongi unlocks the door to his apartment. He’s a little slow. He went out for a drink by himself tonight. His usual ritual when he finishes a project. His feet took him to the restaurant before he thought of it. It’s been two months since the before time.
Yoongi fumbles his keys in the lock. Sitting at the bar, eating his food all he could think about was that night with her at the small table.  He feels back in time, like he wants to tell the other Yoongi. Don’t fuck this up. Why didn’t he just tell her how he felt? He didn't know, actually, but maybe he should've just told her that.
Yoongi nursed his drink, not wanting to go home. No matter how many times he cleaned, and how many pictures he hung and dinners he made, her ghost still lingers. He remembers that day he sent the text. He was relieved because he thought it was over. He half hoped she would do something absolutely mental like trash his shit or disorder his albums or steal that sweatshirt he knows is her favorite, but she did none of those things. Of course she didn’t. She left the one t-shirt he had forgotten about folded neatly on the bed. His phone rings.
“Who's calling me?”
“Your best friend.”
“Hoseok, great to hear from you. I’m feeling slightly—”
“Why are you talking in that weird accent? Are you drunk?”
“Drunk is a subjective term.” Yoongi narrows his eyes.  “But I am wondering if I can hold the phone, figure out which key unlocks my apartment and then open the door because frankly, I’m not certain that all these things are possible at the moment.”
“Please tell me you didn’t drive.”
“Fuck you. I walked because I thought it would help clear my head.”
“How did that go?”
“Well, I haven’t puked in anyone’s bushes so I would say it's a success.”
“Jesus, Yoongi.”
“Yeah, well what the fuck do you want from me?”
“To take care of yourself?”
“I’m doing great.”
“You get the door open yet?”
“I’m working on it.”
“I’m calling because you’re more terrible at answering texts than normal, and I want to make sure you know we’re touring the space at ten tomorrow morning.”
“Why so early?” Yoongi whines, but he finally gets his fucking door open. Success.
“It’s the time we agreed on last week.”
Yoongi sighs. It sounds like something old Yoongi would’ve agreed to, and he hates old Yoongi.
“Then, I’ll be there.”  Yoongi stumbles into his apartment, righting himself just before he lands on his face. “Bright eyed and bushy tailed.”
“I would take sober and awake.”
“Well, that’s probably going to happen.”
“Yoongi—” Hoseok doesn’t get angry often, but when he does Yoongi knows he probably deserves it.
“I’ll be there. You know I wouldn’t fuck this up, now that Namjoon finally got his head out of his ass.”
“I’m more worried about your head at the moment.”
“You wound me. Namjoon got lost in the rare book room once.” Yoongi doesn’t know why that’s the first thing that comes to mind.  He’s so tired of being haunted by his memories of her. She's gone. He wasn’t sure what he wanted, and she made a choice for the two of them.  He doesn’t know who he’s angrier at.
“If you want to talk, we’re here.”
It’s hard when his two closest friends are in functioning, adult relationships. He can’t compete with that. Not that it’s a competition, but he’s so fucking tired of happy couples.
“I’ll be there at ten.” Yoongi hangs up. He knows he’s going to have to talk to them at some point. He’s going to have to address Feelings and Consequences. He doesn’t want to do that now.
Yoongi goes through the quiet routine of getting ready for bed. He's going to have a hangover tomorrow.  Lying in bed, he doesn’t even take the energy to get a glass of water. He’s fucked.
He thinks back to the scene at the restaurant tonight, the crowds around him, chatting and drinking, wearing smiles. Fuck, he’s tired of happy people. He sat at the end of the bar, nursed his drink and ordered his food, but not really eating. He doesn’t know why he went there. What was he thinking?  The bartender looked after him.  In that nice way, in that way he can tell isn’t just for extra tips.  She gave him a smile. They shared a horrified look when a man next to Yoongi gave her an atrocious pick-up line.  
The whole evening unfolded like it had been scripted.  She raised an eyebrow, and he gave her a smirk.  Before he knew what was happening the place was shutting down, but he had run out of pages.  How did he get here?
The bartender wasn’t offended when Yoongi turned her down. That was scripted too.  She was subtly disappointed but no more.  Then the scene ended, and he walked out of the restaurant into the warm air. Fuck, he hates summer.  He didn’t want to go home.  He went to that bar he doesn’t like, the one she thinks looks like a front for the mob, and she's invented elaborate histories for everyone in the place.  
His second solo bar of the night, so things are going really well. The bartender is the one y/n’s convinced is about to be inducted in some elaborate ceremony from the 70’s. (“I don’t think they do that anymore,” Yoongi scoffed.  “They’re traditionalists, don’t you think?” “If you’re asking me if I know how the mob works, I don’t.” “See, listen to me.”)  He sits at the bar; knows he’s only going to have one drink. He might make mistakes, but he knows how to look out for himself. (Mostly.) Why not take the easy route. Why didn't he go home with that other bartender and ignore the weird feelings he has? He doesn’t leave the second bar until he figures it out.  The couple next to him are making out and the bar gets a completely suspicious delivery at midnight, and his first thought is to tell her, because it really does fit her theory (is it a side of beef, a body?!?!, probably just liquor, but that’s no fun) So he sits and drinks water until he figures it out.
It doesn't take long. The bartender was the old way. The easy calculation. The fun coming from knowing how it’s going to end, knowing how each domino will fall and there won’t be any hard feelings, or any feelings to worry about at all.  He half wishes he could go back to that Yoongi.  At least that Yoongi knew what the hell he was doing.  He’s not good at this, this in-between.  She's supposed to be here, and he’s supposed to try to get her to let him have his way with her and she's supposed to want an excuse to go in the back and expose some mafia connection that definitely doesn’t exist in the horribly gentrified neighborhood.
So, Yoongi finally figured it out and then he pays his tab and allows himself to go home.  Allows himself the relief of walking. He doesn’t know when ‘not surprised’ and ‘nothing new’ became such a turn off. He knows, but he isn’t ready to touch that bruise.  
His sleep is fitful and not restful.  
Hoseok and Namjoon both shake their head at him when they see him at ten-thirty.
* * *
There is no better feeling than getting on a plane, entering this weird tube, enthusiastic for small bags of pretzels and tiny glasses of juice, rereading the weird inflight magazine. Then, when you exit you could be anywhere in the world.
Y/n's mother gave her a tearful goodbye in the driveway, her father waiting awkwardly by the driver side door. He handed her a twenty-dollar bill for emergencies, and a pat on the back. He hasn’t said anything else about boyfriends and breakups, but he watches her.  
Her older brothers came home on Sunday with their wives and kids. Her mother used this situation as an excuse to gather everyone together as if y/n were leaving for prison or who knows whatever the fuck.  It’s familiar though. The loud cacophony of too many people in the house, the bathroom never available. The weird thumps in the morning as her nephews and nieces run into walls, couches and occasionally a corner eliciting a cry and set of arms to hold them. Her arms are there too.  Those old babysitting skills coming back, as if she needs the income again.  They’re like little aliens come to earth, but with a sense of wonder and not heartache. She gets lost in the noise, in the talk of promotions and recipes and baby and me classes.  She's the one that goes to the store when the coffee runs out, that watches the little ones in the play-pool, that cleans up the table after dinner.  She doesn't mind. She likes having a spot that fits, even if it isn’t necessarily the spot that she would choose. Occasionally someone asks her about school, or her younger brother makes a comment about whether or not she has a boyfriend which sparks a momentary interest as another wedding might be the only thing that moves her up a notch in this hierarchy. But she shuts that down quick. It goes back to the usual chatter and clatter.  Someone brings up the fact that she puked in the nativity and she brings up the fact that her winning touchdown in the Thanksgiving game is still the best catch in the family.  One of her older brothers, the successful one with the wife that does Pilates, asks if she needs money which is weird and nice. She tells him no.  Her other older brother, the less successful one, but the one who makes his wife laugh in a good way, asks how she's doing, really. He says if she needs anything to call him.  They’re both kind in their way.  No one asks about her thesis. No one asks about the book they suspect she's writing. No one asks anything personal, but they try in their own way.  They give her encouraging smiles as if they’ve learned she's got an unpronounceable illness.
When she steps off the plane, the humidity seeps into her skin, and its feels like forgiveness after the winter.  When she remembers last year, she remembers snow and wind and cold. Jackets and scarves and mittens. Yoongi rubbing her arms and hugging her and wrapping his coat around her.
Why didn’t you just tell him about the internship?  
After the first week, dinners and drinks with the other three interns cease. There had been the usual comparing programs, comparing schools, comparing cv's. It's tedious. When the almost Ivy League guy realizes he's from the best school, he relaxes.  There's a girl who ended up here but thought she was going to be in a different program, and she doesn’t really care. The serious quiet guy talks to her. She takes a week to realize he’s interested, but she's definitely not. He isn’t Yoongi so much it hurts. Only now she realizes she doesn't have to settle. She might have fucked things up royally, but she doesn't have to confuse politeness with kindness anymore. She doesn't have to wonder if there is someone out there that gives her butterflies. She's had it, and she wants it back. She smiles and ignores his advances. He’s perfectly nice but he’s not for her. She isn't sure what a her that’s dating someone other than Yoongi looks like, but she doesn't want to find out until the pain is a dull throb instead of a sharp spike.
Luckily, the work is all consuming. The sunlight streams in from the large windows, reflecting off the white walls. It looks like a chemistry lab if she didn’t know better, but it’s really a trip to another world.  The manuscripts are damaged from water, so they were frozen to prevent further swelling and warping, and then she wakes them up. Colson wasn’t as excited when he found Cap in the ice. Hours pass by with her bent over the table, pages turning and drying.  Sleep only comes when she's exhausted herself or drank a glass of wine in her little rented room in the large house, with its plants on the windowsill. She isn't sure who her roommates are, and she doesn't know where they work and when they come and go.  It’s peaceful. No one can be offended because no one speaks the same language. Everyone has decided to think the best of each other instead of the worst.  There are nods and polite smiles among the group.  The plants on the windowsill survive, and she does too.
* * *
Namjoon locks the door and pockets the key. Out of the three of them, he’s the most responsible so he should have the key, but he also gets locked out of his apartment more than Jin will admit. “Don’t worry there’s a copy for each of you.”
It’s Thursday night, and Yoongi’s back hurts from moving everything into the new space. There are boxes on the floor, and they’ve barely unpacked. They won’t be able to record anything or really get started until after the weekend. There’s days more of work, but it’s better than thinking, better than worrying or wondering. If nothing else, Namjoon’s constant stream of concerns and Hoseok’s optimism is enough to keep Yoongi distracted. He spent the day building his new desk and enjoying the new space.
Yoongi heads to his car.
“Uh, let’s go eat.” Namjoon says in the least casual way possible.
Yoongi turns around, knowing what this is about. Hoseok’s arms are crossed against his chest, and Namjoon is looking at the floor, so he's right - it’s a setup.
“Can you move the intervention to next week?”
“No,” Hoseok says. “You’ll just say you’re too busy with work.”
“I am too busy with work.” Yoongi tries, knowing that it’s futile.
“Not too busy to mope,” Namjoon says, meeting his eyes.
“I drink alone one night,” Yoongi says as he walks back to his friends.
“This isn’t a drinking intervention. This is a moping intervention.”
“Great,” Yoongi says as he follows his friends to the restaurant. Might as well get it over with.
The two friends take pity on him, and they talk about work as they order, wait for drinks and eat their dinner.  Yoongi is almost thinking that he’s going to get a hot meal and no scolding out of this night, when Hoseok finishes his drink and looks him in the eye.
“So, how are you doing?” Hoseok asks, like a doctor speaking to a sick child.
“I’m fine.”
Namjoon huffs.
“You know how I am, I don’t look back,” Yoongi says, and he doesn’t. He doesn’t dwell on what-ifs. Maybe he could’ve done better, but she definitely could have too. It doesn’t matter now.
Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Yes, we know you’re an island an all that.” Hoseok waves his hand to suggest what he thinks of this. “But what about your heart.”
Yoongi rolls his eyes now. “I’m not like you guys.”
“I’m hardly one to force you to date if you don’t want to.” Namjoon was single a long time before he and Seokjin got together.
“I’m just not going to dwell on something that didn’t work. It’s time to move on.”
Yoongi knows that isn’t it though. He hasn’t moved on in his usual way. He hasn’t gone to the club. He hasn’t returning the knowing gaze of bartenders. No one’s turned his head. He’s still thinking about her when he wakes in the morning. Sometimes he forgets why he’s sad, and then it comes back over and over.
She's been haunting him, but instead of a spectral visage, it's the sounds. The sound of her laughter when he told the story of the ugly rug. The sound of her saying fucking machine at odd times.  
"Sure," Hoseok says, rolling his eyes.
“Just because you guys are perfect.”
Namjoon almost spits out his drink. “Uh, what?”
Yoongi glances at Hoseok wanting to see a look of understanding, but his best friend just looks like he wants to laugh.
“You know what I mean, with your apartment and your pictures, and your chipped mugs and all that.”
Namjoon just looks more confused. “What are you talking about?”
Yoongi turns to Hoseok. “Somehow the scariest woman in the world is in love with you, and I’m pretty sure she’s an assassin when she’s not working at the bakery. No offense, but if I ever needed to hide a body, I would call her not you.”
“I’m not offended. I would call her too, but that isn’t the point. What are you talking about perfect?”
“You guys have it all figured out.”
Hoseok and Namjoon no longer try to control their laughter.  
“Yoongi, I’m dating someone worse at communication than you.  She might as well be using fucking semaphore on a windy day and she makes less sense.”
“Well, look at Seokjin and Namjoon. They're perfect together. They have conversations without talking. They do everything together.”
“Seokjin goes to gallery openings with me because I ask him, and he spends most of his time trying not to crack jokes.  I don’t know anything about acting, but I run lines with him, mostly so he can relax by laughing at my attempts.”
“Whatever, it’s like fate.”
“Seokjin and I have nothing in common except that we want to be together.”
Hoseok sets his napkin on the table. “If you wait for fate, you’re going to be waiting a long time.”
“I don’t know.” Yoongi runs a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. That’s the whole thing.”
“I don’t know, either Yoongi," Hoseok says.  " I haven’t met my girlfriend's parents because they're in jail. She still won’t move in with me because she doesn’t want to depend on me, and I sometimes do think she is an assassin because she's sort of scary, and I won’t hear from her for a day, but I just want to be with her. I just like her. It isn’t complicated.”
Yoongi glances at Namjoon because if there’s one thing he’s sure of it’s that Namjoon thinks relationships are complicated.
“What do you want from me,” Namjoon says. “Of course, it’s complicated. His family still doesn’t think I’m good enough for him.  My parents are still unsure if this liking guys thing is a phase. He gets hit on every time we go out.”
"Namjoon, Seokjin would never cheat on you, and your parents don’t matter in the least. I know it sucks but—"
Namjoon sighs. “Just don’t dismiss us by saying it’s fate or its perfect.”
“The choice is the only thing that matters," Hoseok says. "Love is easy to fall into when you don’t know the other person, but then you have to keep going."
“But it doesn’t feel easy. It feels like I’m going to be sick sometimes.”
“Also, yes,” Namjoon adds.
“I can’t remember who I was before I met her, but this isn’t like work or music. This isn’t something I can wrestle into submission. What if I find out she has terrible taste in music? I’m pretty sure she’s still hiding some of her playlists from me.”
“Listen, only you can decide what matters to you, and if it's her taste in music that’s fine, but I don’t think that’s it.  I think you’re afraid.  Even if you do everything right, it still may not work. Who knows? Y/n's quiet. She could be an assassin, too.”
"She knows a lot about poisons."
"She really does."
"The thing is," Namjoon starts. "It doesn’t matter what you do. This isn’t like music. You can’t work your way through it or wait for inspiration to strike."
“You just have to try." Hoseok adds.
"To what, get my heart broken again?” Yoongi hasn’t said it out loud. He hasn’t given in to such words before. It sounds like such a ridiculous notion.  Isn’t that for other people? People who aren’t him?  “She could leave again. Once she knows she can, once she knows that it isn’t that hard, then what am I going to do? I have a lease and every dollar I have is tied up in equipment, and I have a contract for quote some music for young people to dance to unquote and I’m not going anywhere. I’m happy in a small life.
"Uh, y/n doesn’t really seem like the jet setting type."
"She’s going to realize this is it."
"I’m pretty sure she knows."
"I just . . ." Yoongi runs his hands through his hair. "I don’t like this. I feel nauseas all the time, and I can’t remember what it was like before we met."
"It still may not work out,” Hoseok says. “I’m still surprised my girlfriend hasn’t changed her name and left, but I wake up every day hoping she hasn’t."
"No one else’s opinion matters in the end,” Namjoon says.
"Is it supposed to feel, like, this . . . awful?"
"Yes," his friends said in unison.
"I’m good at the games part, you know, the beginning. I don’t know what the rest looks like."
"Only one way to find out."
"Ugh. I hate this." Yoongi finishes his drink, and orders another.
* * *
The summer moves one day to the other. There are days at the lab, days at the warehouse, unpacking the waterlogged books, trying to determine their fate like a triage nurse, like a life is in her hands. Maybe she is getting weird, maybe she does need to get out more. But she likes the way life moves without school, without class. She walks to the market once a week. She puts her food in her bin in the fridge. It’s lonely but it’s not bad.
The only people who text are a few friends from school at their own internships, all of them spread across the world.  Her brother is still sending vague threats about New Year’s and she will die before she tells him that she has no idea what the hell he did that he’s so desperate not to get out.  
When she gets the text, she double checks. She had forgotten Hoseok’s name was even in her phone.  He and his girlfriend are going to be at a resort town nearby next week and he wants to say hi. Hoseok’s girlfriend texts, too.
Make my boyfriend happy and agree to meet for a drink next week.
Hoseok’s girlfriend apparently: lose the question mark and we will be fine.
Hoseok’s girlfriend apparently: He’s nice and he worries about people.
Hoseok’s girlfriend apparently: I don’t get it either.
looking forward to it!
Hoseok’s girlfriend apparently: lose the exclamation and we will be fine
Y/n takes the bus over the rolling hills and cliffs to the resort town, down from the mountain. She came here the first weekend, wandering through the market stalls and weaving among the other tourists.
Hoseok gives her a wave when she spots him at the café. He sits outside, his girlfriend across from him. One of those moments when she’s not on guard, and she laughs at his jokes when she doesn’t want to. How did they come to be two halves of the same whole?  Y/n doesn't believe in fate or in soulmates, but she believes in luck and some people have it and some don’t.  She always thought she was the unlucky type but maybe she just never saw it when it came, too worried about what other people thought, too tired from too many late nights at work, or too afraid to follow where it led.
Hoseok waves and smiles. He could never be insincere even if he tried. His girlfriend adopts her sardonic smile.  Hoseok gives y/n a hug. He’s a hugging sort of guy, and it’s a comfort to have friends like this. Yoongi is lucky.
In the late afternoon sun, they share drinks and food. Hoseok is a master of conversation, of never letting things lag, of knowing what to say and when to make people laugh. Before long y/n isn’t pretending to be relaxed, she is relaxed. Maybe she could’ve really been friends with him. But no, Yoongi didn’t want that. Looking down, wishing she had a drink in her hand, she remembers the non-invites.  Yoongi might not have communicated but he let her know where she stood.  Maybe she shouldn’t have been such a coward and just finally fucking yelled at him for it.  It was probably a test that she failed.
The group ends up at a restaurant for dinner and then more drinks. Hoseok leans back on the bench. He’s about five minutes from falling asleep.  His girlfriend smiles at him, holds his hand when he asks.
Hoseok’s girlfriend glares at y/n the second he falls asleep.  She looks like she’s about to defend him against whatever y/n might say, but she isn't going to say anything.  He’s sweet.
She sighs and orders another drink.  One hand still clasped in the sleeping Hoseok’s hand. “Well, what do you want to know?” Hoseok's girlfriend asks, tired of the conversation before it begins.
Y/n debates with herself, but can’t pass up this opportunity.
“I guess I do want to know how he’s doing, but don’t lie okay, just tell me the truth.”
“Why would I lie to you? I'm not even sure if I like you.”
“Who do you like?”
She turns to Hoseok, now leaning against her shoulder and snoring lightly. She looks at him soft.
“Why him?”
“Have you met him?”
“Why you?”
She looks down at their intertwined hands. “I don’t know. I wonder, you know. I’m not an idiot. I don’t get it either.” She shrugs lightly, jostling Hoseok a little, but it just results in him holding on tighter.
“Aren’t you worried about fucking it up?”
“I fuck it up all the time.”
“That I believe.”
“Wow, a backbone,” Hoseok's girlfriend says.
It sounds too much like Yoongi to make her comfortable.  “So how do you two still work?”
“Well, I’m not going to throw it away before I have a chance to find out.”
“Wow, a direct hit.”
She doesn't know what she wants to know. She knows he’s fine, he’s working and he’s going to the club and he’s doing what he does, removing drama and anything the disrupts the careful calculation of his work and his life. He’s as ordered as those albums she should’ve spread across his floor.
Hoseok's girlfriend sighs.  “He’s miserable.”
“I thought you weren’t going to lie.”
“I’m not. I don’t get it either.”
“No . . ." Hoseok's girlfriend struggles with the words. "He isn’t usually like this after a breakup so you really fucked him over.”
"I don’t mean the breakup fucked him up, I mean the relationship."
"What does that mean?"
"I don’t know how to explain it," she admits.  "He’s not going to the club. He’s not going after anyone who gives him the opportunity."
Is that what I was? Just someone who gave him the opportunity? Y/n's worked out the timeline by now.  The package with Yoongi’s ex-girlfriend’s things had barely been delivered by the night of Namjoon and Seokjin's dinner party.
"He’s unhappy and all he does is work. He’s not moving on. He’s mired in the past."
She doesn't know want to think about what that might mean. Besides, she has another three months here.  There's plenty of time for Yoongi to get happy.
"Did they get the space? Did they start the recording studio?" During the afternoon Hoseok excelled at avoiding even the most innocuous of topics that might bring Yoongi to mind.
“All they do is work.”
“I’m glad Namjoon finally got his head out of his ass.”
“Christ, yes.”
“Is Yoongi really sad?” She wants to know. She thought it would feel more satisfying to know that he hurt, but it just hurts her, too.
“Yes, and it’s getting really boring.”
“He really hasn’t been with anyone?”
Hoseok's girlfriend shakes her head.
“That’s not what I expected,” Y/n admits.
“Me neither.”
“He says he always knows what they’re going to say.”
The bus ride back to her side of the mountain is quiet.  The driver expertly rounds corners.  The engine makes terrible noises, and no one is bothered. Not the driver, not the one other lonely passenger who sleeps and sways with the bus like it’s a rocking chair.  The other woman wakes miraculously before her stop, waving to the driver as she descends.
Dropped off in the center square, y/n walks the thirty-minute walk home. Just her and the moon hanging in the sky.  It’s easy for her to get on a plane, to start over. She may have convinced herself that Yoongi is better at it, as if boxes had sat stacked in his closet, shipping labels prepared. But in the end, she beat him to it.  
It’s staying that’s hard.  It’s the ordinary things that make up a life – mornings in bed, and drinks with friends and trying to find connection in the midst of making dinner and washing dishes. Life didn’t hand her a lot of excitement, but it handed her something real, and she got scared before she could see if it could bloom into something beautiful.  
Why didn't she confront him about the club? She had a right to be angry, but a right to hold it in wait? Ammunition for when she might need it?
He's likely moved on already, but she knows now. She knows what she got wrong. He deserves an apology. Even if it's too late, and she doesn't deserve absolution.
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between-two-fandoms · 25 days ago
AO3 LINK Rating: Teen Words: 2,003 Fandom: Stranger Things Relationships: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington & Eddie Munson Tags: Stranger Things 4 Spoilers, S4 E7 Coda, Missing Scene, Steve Harrington Angst, Bisexual Steve Harrington, Alternate Universe, Not Canon Compliant, Hurt/Comfort, Angst AO3 LINK
Steve woke up to the warmth of another body pressed against him in bed. At first he didn’t think much of it. He often found himself in the presence of beautiful women in the mornings. In fact, Steve wouldn’t have even thought anything was wrong with the picture until he opened his eyes.
Eddie Munson was staring back at him.
“Morning beautiful,” Eddie said with a smirk that could only mean one thing. Steve's mind flashed back to the night before. After they got rescued from the Upside Down Steve felt… a connection between them. Eddie was the one who invited him over - under the guise of not wanting to be alone. There might have been some truth to the statement but Steve wasn’t stupid. Steve squeezed his eyes shut and pinched his arm. When he opened them again Eddie was still lying next to him wearing nothing but a muscle shirt and a pair of boxers. Come to think of it, the only thing Steve was wearing was a pair of shorts. “You can relax man, nothing happened last night.”
“What?” Steve asked, wincing as his dry and cracked morning voice filled the air. Eddie yawned as he rolled over and stood up, stretching his arms above his head. “What do you mean nothing happened last night?” Steve tried to stand up as well but was met with a splitting pain in his abdomen. He let out a groan and shifted to sitting up, leaning against Eddie’s headrest. Eddie let out a chuckle then walked to his closet. He opened it then dug around for a few minutes. When he turned back around he was holding an old pillowcase and a first aid kit.
“Your brain’s going a million miles a second Harrington,” Eddie said. He kicked his closet door shut then walked back over to the bed. He sat off to the side, leaving Steve enough personal space. “We didn’t fuck if that’s what you’re thinking.” Eddie used scissors from the shitty first aid kit to cut off the fabric Nancy tied around him in the Upside Down. Steve let out a choked cough and flushed a deep shade of red down his neck. 
“That’s not what - I mean I - um -” Steve hated how easily he got tongue tied around Eddie. He could talk shit all he wanted but he knew the truth, hidden in the depths of his soul. He was bisexual and Eddie constantly sent him into a painic. At first he thought he was jealous of Eddie because Dustin took an immediate liking to the man. Eventually - through many biwakening therapy sessions with Robin - Steve realized he had a repressed crush on the dude. 
Waking up next to him wearing barely any clothes after a traumatic incident definitely didn’t help him much. “Hey princess, take a deep breath for me,” Eddie said as he cleaned Steve’s wounds. Steve’s mind short circuited at being called princess but he managed to find enough self control to not freak out. “Robin will be by in a few hours. She said she had to ditch the kids. She figured you wouldn’t want them to see you like um…” Eddie gestured vaguely up and down Steve’s chest. Steve chuckled weakly and nodded in response.
“Like I got mauled by a colony of Demon Bats?” Steve let out a hiss when Eddie pressed an alcohol pad against one of the open wounds. Steve tried to remember what happened in the Upside Down leading up to getting rescued but most of it was a blur. The Demon Bats really did a number on him - he still felt woozy thinking about it. “Nancy,” Steve said when the memory flashed across his mind. “Nancy fuck we have to -” Steve tried to stand up but Eddie pushed him back into the bed. The mattress squeaked under the shifting weight.
“Nope, you’re staying right here. Doctor’s orders,” Eddie said. He saluted Steve with a wink. Eddie chucked the now bloody chunk of cloth into the trash then cut himself a new piece out of the pillowcase. “Just sit still and let me do this Captain Crazy.” Eddie was more gentle this time around. At least, as gentle as he could be while cleaning out Steve’s wounds. “Nancy was… she wasn’t killed by the wizard dude. It was different with her. Dustin said the dark wizard has was interested in Nancy ‘cause she was smart or whatever.”
“So she still might be alive,” Steve said with a hint of hope in his voice. Where the Upside Down is concerned, hope could be a dangerous thing but it was Nancy. Steve couldn’t let Wheeler’s sister die because she jumped into the hellhole to save him. Steve let out a heavy sigh and leaned back into the flat pillow between him and the trailer wall. “Where are we? This isn’t your place is it?” Steve asked, realizing Eddie’s house must still be swarmed by cops. Eddie shook his head with a small smile on his face. He reached up and combed hair away from Steve’s eyes with his fingers.
“Nah this isn’t my place. It used to belong to a friend. We’re in the west end of the woods right now. Only Robin and I can find it at least for now. I’m sure your kids will figure something out. Fucking little genius’s they are,” Eddie mumbled the last bit. He set the first aid kit on the ground and took a swig out of an open alcohol bottle on the small bedside table. Steve laughed then let out another pained groan.
“Oh don’t make me laugh,” Steve said as he defensively wrapped an arm around the patches of missing flesh in his stomach. “How bad does it actually look? It can’t be worse than when Max’s brother laid it out on me.” Eddie froze slightly at the mention of Billy then finished up cleaning off the wounds. Eddie threw the bloodied gauze patches into the garbage can. “Eddie?” Steve asked softly, suddenly a bit more concerned.
“I’m not a certified nurse or anything,” Eddie started. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking a bit stressed. “Whatever those Demon Bats did to you… I think it’s spreading. Or maybe it’s some kind of an infection?” Eddie asked hesitantly. He grabbed an old dusty mirror and held it up for Steve to see himself. 
He’s definitely looked better that’s for sure. Steve could also be one hundred percent certain he’s going to get an earful from Robin for not telling them how much it hurt. To be fair he only felt pain when the first bat attacked him. Afterwards Steve’s adrenaline was stronger than his pain tolerance. “Damn,” Steve winced when he gently ran his finger over an infected looking area. “Eddie I can’t die,” Steve said. His voice sounded sore and weak. 
“Relax Harrington, I'm not going to let you die,” Eddie promised. He reached out and squeezed Steve’s shoulder reassuringly. “If I do then I’ll take over as babysitter alright?” Steve hesitated then nodded. He let his eyes flutter shut and relaxed the best he could. The patches of flesh the bats ripped out of him were turning a ghastly shade of purple and yellow around the edges. “The bright side is that the Demon Bats must have cauterized the wounds when they clawed at you with some freaky demon power stuff,” Eddie reported. He took a few pictures using an instant photo camera then set them on the alarm clock to set. 
They sat in silence for a few minutes, the sound of crickets filling the air. Steve let out a heavy sigh and reached out to wrap his fingers around the hem of Eddie’s shirt. “I don’t want any of them to know,” Steve said quietly. Eddie glanced up from rooting around in the first aid kit. 
“Steve, they'll find out anyway. I don’t want to -”
“No, listen to me.” Steve curled his fingers around Eddie’s shirt tighter. “I’m not worth worrying about. They’ll get too caught up with me and lose sight of the bigger picture.” Steve took a shaky breath as he pulled himself up, hanging his legs over the side of the low mattress. “Eddie, I know it’s a lot to ask. Hell you’re probably still processing the fact that monsters are real.” Steve held Eddie’s hand, squeezing it tightly. “Max, Nancy, everyone else - they’re more important. Once we defeat Vecna I’ll tell them.”
“If you’re still alive by then,” Eddie said with a dark expression on his face. Steve looked at his wounds and saw the infection was already spreading throughout his veins. “Dude it’s your call but if Robin finds out you’re keeping secrets she’ll kill me.” Steve shook his head with a soft smile on his face.
“I know you’ll keep Dustin safe if I’m gone. Robin will go through hell and back before anything happens to the kids.” Steve took a few deep breaths to control his breathing. “They can’t afford to lose anyone else. I don’t know how the hell we’re going to defeat Vecna without El.” Steve hated how childlike and whiny he sounded but honestly he didn’t know what to do anymore. Eddie helped coax Steve back into the bed, laying him down on the lumpy mattress. 
“Judging by the fact you guys have fought creatures from this Rightside Up place for the past four years I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You’re King Steve afterall,” Eddie said with a hint of bittersweetness. He wrapped gauze and cotton around Steve’s stomach, careful not to make it tight around his ribs. “Look if I’m being real with you… you’re nothing like you were back in high school. I may have judged Henderson too harshly. He talked about you all the time during Hellfire. “What would Steve do? He’d kickass with his nail bat. No he’d spend twenty minutes doing his hair Then kickass.” Eddie wedged himself onto the bed next to Steve. 
“They don’t need another thing to freak out about,” Steve repeated. He wasn’t budging on his choice. They were sixteen year olds for crying out loud. The kids should be worried about Turnabout or Homecoming, not whether or not a nightmare demon monster will wreak havoc again. “I’ll tell them eventually just… not right now.” Steve winced in pain when he tried to sit up more. Eddie sighed and shook his head, but he wrapped an arm around Steve and tugged him closer.
“Well we better get used to the idea of seeing each other around. How’s your wrap?” Eddie asked, sticking on the last piece of medical tape. Steve shrugged and waved his hand from side to side horizontally.
“Eh, I’ve seen better. Not bad for a Boy Scout,” Steve joked. He leaned into Eddie more, letting himself slowly relax after a stressful morning. Eddie frowned slightly and nudged him with his elbow.
“What do you mean not bad for a Boy Scout?” Eddie asked, actually sounding confused. Steve laughed and pressed his face into Eddie’s shoulder.
“I’m surprised you don’t remember us being in the same Boy Scout Troop.” Steve smiled against Eddie’s shoulder. “You know, that’s about when I had my first queer panic too.” Steve bit his tongue and burrowed himself as much as he could into Eddie. After a few agonizingly long seconds passed Eddie sighed and pressed his lips to the top of Steve’s head.
“I’m honored I was your queerwakening Harrington.” Eddie gently pulled Steve out of his hiding spot. “We can talk about this later,” Eddie promised. He seemed like he actually cared about Steve’s well being. It was strange, having someone who cared about him. Nancy was good but she… as much as Steve hated to admit it she was more of a fling if anything. After how she treated him Steve couldn’t bring himself to care about what she thought of him anymore. Eddie was… different. More than being new Munson actually made Steve feel loved. 
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musicfeedsmysoul12 · 6 months ago
photos of the past, videos of the future Chapter 6
On AO3
Izuku prayed the whole thing would end soon. They were in the last few minutes of the cavalry battle, with them still keeping the band causing more eyes on them. The entire situation caused him to want to hide until the third event. Just run off, and refuse to leave where ever he was until he had to interact with others. Avoid his friends for a while. He’d feel awful, but honestly, he just didn’t want to face them yet.
The screen above him stopped to show a picture of him on the first day, next to a tall girl with a ponytail. Yaoyorozu Momo froze just as they were to charge Izuku’s team, stalling them enough for the group to run. Luckily, none of her group held it against her, looking at her sympathetically. They’d all been there.
The adult version of Izuku stood on a street, helping police officers escort some villains into their car. Near him stood an adult version of Yaoyorozu Momo, the woman wearing a sports bra-style top with shorts, a jacket added to her uniform. She looked heavier than she did as a teenager, with more muscles and fat built on her. The woman looked cheerful as she talked with some officers.
“Creati! Dekiru!” a few reporters called out. The two heroes traded looks.
“Rock paper scissors?” Izuku asked. Momo shot him a look, causing Izuku to chuckle. “Alright, alright.” He jogged over to the reporters, smiling. “Hello, what can I do for you?”
“Dekiru, is working with your wife hard?” a reporter instantly asked.
“No,” Izuku replied, shaking his head. “My wife is the number two hero, our skill sets work together very well. It is actually nicer working with her than working with others at times, given both of us were mentored by Principal Nezu.” Izuku replied.
“What do you think about the fact she’s currently ranked third for the sexiest hero?” asked another.
“Confused why such a sexist and disgusting ranking still exists,” Izuku replied bluntly. The reporters fell silent. “Why is it women who are expected to show their bodies off to be popular heroes? Creati faced backlash for the addition of a coat to her hero uniform- it is in fact what caused her to go from number one to number two.” Izuku frowned at them. “I am happy to be number one, it means a lot to me, but the fact the woman I love lost her spot because she wore a coat is disgusting.”
“And that’s why I love you,” Momo said, coming up behind him, having finished with the officers. She smiled at Izuku before she turned to the reporters. “I have multiple times informed the ‘ranking’ committee for the sexiest hero that they need to remove me. I have not consented to it. As such, my husband and I will be suing. Have a good day.” Izuku lit up with green electricity, wrapping an arm around Momo’s waist. He jumped, carrying her away.
The couple landed on a rooftop, Izuku letting go of Momo to sigh and run a hand through his undercut. “Shit Momo, I’m sorry-”
“You did nothing Izuku, it was the reporters who reminded me that I’m just a piece of meat for the eyes of the public to them,” Momo said tiredly. Izuku scowled.
“You’re more than that! You’re a beautiful woman who has the skill, strength, intelligence and more! You saved over two thousand people last year alone.” Izuku scowled bitterly. “I saved less, but I’m number one because of a damn jacket!” He scoffed as he walked over to Momo, reaching up to cup her face. “Fuck the system, babe. You’re so much more than anyone says.” Momo smiled at her husband, still taller than him, so she needed to bend down a bit to press a kiss to his mouth, smiling. Izuku happily took the kiss, a smile on his own face.
“...Seeing you so defensive reminds me of our first year when you managed to gather all that evidence to enable Aizawa-sensei to expel Mineta,” Momo said, a smirk on her face. “I like it.”
“Oh?” Izuku grinned. “Fine by me.”
The screen ended, making Izuku let out a sigh of relief. Not too bad… wait.
“I’m going to be the number one hero?!” he blurted out, eyes wide.
“Yeah?” Uraraka asked in confusion. “It said so before…” Izuku squeaked, eyes wide. He honestly hadn’t heard that- he probably got lost in the freakout.
“Wait, she loses it?!” Izuku scowled darkly. “That’s bullshit! All for a jacket?!”
“COVERING UP THOSE BOOBS IS THE STUPIDEST THING!” a voice shouted from inside of Shouji’s arms, the large teen stopping in his attempt to run at Izuku’s group. “AND WHAT THE FUCK? YOU GET ME EXPELLED!?” Izuku blinked.
“Sounds like you’ll deserve it,” a voice croaked out from inside the arms as well. “Especially after the USJ and you groping me.”
“Tsu?!” Uraraka called out. “You’re working with him still?!”
“I reported it, but no one did anything, so I’m making do. Fumikage is here too; he’s keeping the creep away.” Tsu replied dryly.
“I was not informed,” Aizawa’s voice came to life over the speakers. “Asui, please inform me of who took your complaint so I can investigate this properly. If Mineta was expelled in one world, I would rather look into it.” Tsu croaked in agreement, sounding pleased as Mineta wailed.
Meanwhile, Momo needed a moment to collect herself. She was married in the future and apparently would become the number one hero. However, sexism would cause her to lose it. That enraged her, but hearing Izuku’s words… well, she felt thankful. So thankful someone seemed to understand and care for her. She saw the love between them, it played in her mind until all she could think about revolved around that. Love, true honest love that did not resemble what her parents possessed for one another. Simply just love. It filled her with a warmth she had never experienced before. She wanted more of it. More and more.
“Well, guess all of us fell in love with Midoriya,” Denki said out loud. “...Do we really need his headband? I’m going to be a mess when we lock eyes.”
“How else will we prove our mettle if we cannot push past this?” asked Tenya, even though his own face looked doubtful he could manage. As the screen above Izuku once more paused on a photo, this one of the entrance exam with him and Uraraka outside the school, they all wondered how much longer the entire situation would last.
Izuku sat at a table with his head lying on the top, not looking up. Various stacks of papers are around him, with magazines also covering the top. Beside him sat Ochako, the brunette woman possessing much longer hair than her teenage self, leaning back in her chair with a look of exhaustion.
“We got another five calls from venues offering us a spot,” Ochako groaned. “At a discount.”
“Ugh,” Izuku groaned, lifting his head. “Each bakery sent us pictures of the cake styles. Most were in my colours. Only a couple were in yours.” Ochako made a face as Izuku continued, “As well, seventeen press publications put forward requests to be at the wedding.” He dropped his head onto the table as Ochako groaned.
“I want to get married, but this is painful,” she said, reaching up to rub her eyes with her fingertips, still leaning back.
“They tacked that stupid symbol title onto me, so I’m not terribly surprised that they’re hyping up our marriage.” Izuku groaned. Ochako snorted.
“Babe, you need to rant about how awful the title ‘Symbol of Hope’ is at the wedding. It’ll be hilarious to see the faces of the press.” She giggled. Izuku laughed but then ended up sighing.
“I wish we could pull a sensei and Mic, just elope,” he grumbled. Both froze before Izuku slowly raised his head as Ochako sat up, staring at each other. Silence reigned for a long moment.
“...I’ll call Tenya,” Ochako announced, diving away from the table as Izuku jumped up.
“I’ll call our parents,” he said. The video sped up, showing them on the phone with various people before they dug through a closet. “I am going to wear the tuxedo shirt!” Izuku said, holding up a shirt saying tuxedo. Ochako snickered, pulling out her version of the shirt that said fancy dress in plain writing. The two traded wide grins before the video sped up again, leaving them standing at a courthouse, waiting. They ignore various people taking photos as they stand there, arm in arm.
“Any regrets?” Ochako asked Izuku, looking up with a smile. Izuku looked back, smiling wide with his eyes sparkling.
“None. You?”
“Nope.” The two traded a kiss as the video cut off, looking ridiculously happy.
Izuku found himself trying not to scream as they dodged a group of 1B students he hadn’t been shown with. Okay, so Symbol of Peace? Mic and Sensei? What? All of it felt too much, he wanted to burst into tears at the rolling feelings inside of him. It made his body ache as the time for the second event continued to tick down. The day was not turning out like he’d thought it would; he just wanted to rest.
Instead, he closed his eyes, took a breath while he straightened his back. Focus, then freak out. However, Ochako’s squeak and blush made him again somewhat regret his team-up.
Ochako tried to hold in any noise, but seeing herself with Izuku felt good. She sort of had a crush on him since he saved her, something she could now admit to herself after watching the future. But, seeing the love, seeing them both, just say screw it to elope with one aother. It felt amazing, her stomach tightening, her world swirling as she saw them smile at each other, filling her heart. Ochako could swear that the emotions bubbling inside of her could make her take on armies. She wanted to keep feeling it, wanted it forever and ever.
She would have it. She promised herself as the screen stopped once more above Izuku’s head on the first day of UA, showing him and a large six-armed teenager. She would.
Izuku opened the door to leave an apartment, head turned around. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow, mom, Mezo and I-” a gasp cut him off. He turned to see a beautiful blonde woman in front of him. “Ah… Mrs. Ba-”
“Watanabe,” the woman said. “I divorced my husband after Katsuki was sent to jail.” The woman looked down. The video followed her glance to reveal that one of Izuku’s legs was a prosthetic. The woman took a breath as the video refocused on her and Izuku.“I… it’s good to see you Izu… Midoriya.” she smiled weakly.
“It’s good to see you too. I, well, frankly, I don’t know what to say, but I am happy you’re okay.” Izuku smiled at her before he pushed past her. Once he was far enough away, though, his smile dropped, as did his shoulders. He paused on the stairs he’d been walking down, reaching up to run a hand through his undercut as his other dug out his phone. He dialled a number, tucking the phone to his ear as it rang, continuing down the stairs.
“Izuku?” a voice asked from the other end. “-ONE! TWO! I SEE YOU!- what’s wrong?”
“Are the kids causing chaos? I can call-” Izuku began but the man he called interrupted his words.
“Nah, they’re just trying to hack into UA again. Nezu says it’s fine, but he wants them not to use One’s Quirk. They’re very pouty. Tomoe is busy with Miu.” the voice said. “What’s wrong?”
“...I saw Katsuki’s mom today. She was visiting my mom,” Izuku admitted. Silence reigned on the other side of the phone. “I know it’s not my fault. He used his Quirk to its full power, despite being warned the first time I only lived because I dodged, and that time he tried to claim I purposely was slow. I know it’s not my fault.” Izuku sighed deeply. “Mezo, I’m just tired of thinking of him.”
“...Hey kids, if I got Nezu to babysit, would-” Mezo said, leading to cheering from the other side of the phone. Izuku frowned in confusion until Mezo spoke. “Izuku, are you still near your mom’s place?”
“Yeah?” Izuku said in confusion.
“Good, head to Dagobah; I’ll be right there,” Mezo told him. Izuku nodded, hanging up before the video sped up until Izuku stood upon a beach, looking out at the sea. A tall six-armed man walked towards him, wearing a mask. Izuku turned to smile at him as he approached, opening his arms to wrap Izuku up in a giant hug.
“Best hugger ever,” Izuku muttered, snuggling into the embrace. Mezo chuckled, hugging him tighter. “...Thank you, Mezo.”
“You needed a hug and comfort. You do the same for me.” Mezo replied, still holding his arms around Izuku. Izuku smiled before reaching up to remove Mezo’s mask, revealing a vast mouth full of teeth. Izuku didn’t care, though as he leaned in to kiss it, Mezo softly kissing back. Finally, they pulled away from each other, Izuku burying himself into Mezo’s arms more, sighing as they stood there on the beach, a moment of peace just for them.
As soon as the video faded, the screen above Izuku burst into hearts, vanishing without a word. He let out a very long and relieved sigh even as he frantically thought about what had happened. Katsuki… Bakugou could hurt him badly enough that he lost a leg. He’d go to jail for it. The entire situation just didn’t make sense to Izuku. How? Why?
The words, as long as he dodges, rang in his ears, his heartbeat loud in his chest as it echoed. The first battle trial. Where Bakugou… oh. Maybe it made a bit more sense, even as his stomach dropped. Izuku closed his eyes as the ten-second countdown began, still having the ten million point headband. He didn’t want to think about it. He just wanted to finish this, before running away to hide. Then, finally, let all his emotions attack him.
Meanwhile, Mezo stared at Izuku in shock. He didn’t flinch in the future or right then. Izuku simply accepted what his face looked like, accepted him. That single act filled him with a sense of lightness, like bubbles lifting him and filling his heart. He smiled behind his mask as Tsu croaked on his back.
“It seems most of us are possible lovers to Izuku,” she hummed. “I wonder if polyamory is an option too?”
“Hey, why wasn’t I an option?” Mineta whined, Mezo ignoring him as the time ran out. Unfortunately, they didn’t get enough points to compete, but Mezo didn’t mind. He had other things to worry about, like how to woo his future husband.
Aizawa, up in the commentator booth, looked over who would continue to the next round. Izuku, Todoroki and Shinsou’s teams all passed. Monoma’s team did as well; something Bakugou seemed to have issues with given the loud yelling he appeared to be doing. Aizawa sighed, letting his head drop onto the desk. His entire class but three people were in love with the same person, said person was one of the three people. Said person ALSO had other potential suitors. He found out that one of his other students had a history of bullying others and apparently could end up in jail. He found out ANOTHER was sexually harassing the girls.
The next three years were going to be utterly awful; he just knew it.
And we’re done for now! Yeah, no actual ‘endgame’ pairing solely cause I do what I want and also, I had to much fun with all of this to want an endgame. Ya’ll can expect random one-shots with different pairings now! As well, I have a few one-shots of reactions and shenanigans.
I do plan on sort of a sequel where Izuku gets tagged again and we have more pairings! This may include some poly ones- not ALL of the class together because it’s to much for me and also frankly, I don’t ship that so don’t expect it.
Note, there may be one or two problematic ships in the future sequel where he gets tagged again. This would be something where Izuku is paired with an older character (For example: Dabi is a possibility). I would make it clear that these options are FAR into the future for them, and they did not get together until everyone is an adult. They will not be teachers either. However, due to the fact it might make people uncomfy, which valid, I’d probably stick the problematic pairings into one chapter so people can skip if they want. This is just a general warning of what might occur. People complaining will be ignored.
- I actually like to think that Momo, Izuku and Todoroki kind of swap the first three rankings like every year later on in life. If you’re wondering about Bakugou- well truth is I do NOT think he should be anywhere near the top ten in the future. I used to go maybe like rank five, but like would that actually be something that makes sense for his character? Because dudes, his entire reason for being a hero is he wants to be the best, he wants the fame, and he wants the money to. And not for the reasons Uraraka does. So, I think the best option that actually ties in his redemption is him being completely content with being a lower-ranked hero, and just being happy helping people.
Also, let’s be real, his Quirk SUCKS for anything but fighting. It’s explody hands- he would suck at rescue unless it’s literally moving rocks and debris by hand, because exploding it could lead to injury. He does not have the patience to do like undercover work either like Hawks. So I doubt he’d ever actually get super high. If you LOOK at the all of the top ten heroes, their Quirks are very versatile- yes, even Endeavour. Fire is really useful. Explody hands? Not so much.
-Wedding planning is hard. Wedding planning for public figures is harder. So them going fuck it felt very in character.
-I wanted one short with Bakugou explicitly mentioned as being in jail. Why? Because of attempted murder, for no one can tell me the line ‘he’ll live if he dodges’ isn’t a sketchy as FUCK line. Bakugou was fully willing to kill Izuku that day, even if he probably didn’t fully connect the dots in his own mind.
-MomoDeku ended up together after Izuku helped expose Mineta. His strategic genius came through, and slowly he and Momo became closer and then eventually those feelings turned into romance. Momo helped Izuku through the break down of his relationship with his mom after his father’s birth identity was discovered and she tried to pull him out of UA in worry for his safety. Momo also helped Izuku blackmail Bakugou when he kept up with his bullshit even after his apology to get him to actually change. The two became mentored by Nezu and both are terrifying. No kids yet, and actually both would be fine without any kids.
-IzuOcha is basically canon, just with them getting together in their second year.
-ShoujiDeku happened after their first year. They started hanging out more after Izuku’s vigilante stint and they found themselves enjoying the quiet time together. Mezo lost his mask one day and Izuku wasn’t scared of him at all. When Izuku lost his leg, Mezo was one of the few who didn’t tell Izuku he was a fool for still considering Bakugou a friend, and instead helped Izuku through his toxic mentality revolving around Bakugou. They fell in love slowly and are now happily married with kids!
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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · a year ago
Forgive, But First Fun - Nandor x f(vampire) reader
Summary: After getting left behind to fight off a pack of werewolves on your own, now mad at Nandor, you and Nadja have decided a little night out couldn’t hurt.
Warning: slight angst, fluff, fun times, and a tiny smut mention
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Trudging angrily through the manors wooden doors, face stern and almost scary enough to put the fear of God into anyone. Your boots stomp into the large opening and onto the wooden floor boards as Gullimero, Nandor, and the documentary crew follow you in.
Your cloak is ripped and dirty as it lays in a pathetic black heap of cloth in Gullimero’s arms, your hair not looking any better, not to mention your face and arms that have various cuts paired with grass smudge marks adoring your skin. All in all you look like a hot mess.
“What the fuck happened to you lot? You’ve been gone all night.” Questions Laszlo as he walks into view from out of one of the hallways, his eyes scanning over a perfectly clean and handsome Nandor, then over to the dirty crew and disheveled Guillermo who’s got some leaves stuck to his hair.
“I don’t know.” You snap sarcastically, “How about you ask Mr. Dodgy-shit-stick over there.” Referring to Nandor who’s looking anywhere but you, keeping as silent as ever.
Gullimero looks between you and Nandor, then back at a confused Laszlo. “Oh, um they’re not speaking to each other right now.”
“And why the fuck not?”
Guillermo sighs before leaning towards Laszlo, “Nandor wanted to graffiti where the werewolves live and Y/N said he’d get caught and then Nandor said no I won’t and then he did.”
Laszlo raises a curious brow, “That’s it?”
“Oh, um....” Guillermo awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, suddenly pulling off a green leaf, “then they chased us to the park and when the pack closed in on us Nandor turned into a bat and left us behind so Y/N had to fight one of them off so we could escape and now we’re here.”
“Well that sounds rather exciting.”
“Not at the time.” Whispers Guillermo to no one in particular as he glances over at the camera.
“Huh,” Mutters Laszlo thoughtfully, scratching his beard as he thinks of how to help this situation, “well if you two dingbats aren’t talking to one another I believe Nadja needs you Y/N. Something about....well actually I’m not entirely sure.”
Perking up ever so slightly at this positive news, you cross your arms over your chest defiantly, “Well since someone does, I’ll be going then.” You grumble with a low growl at your Nandor who’s refusing to make eye contact while he stares frustrated at the floor.
Nodding in acknowledgment, Laszlo watches you stomp angrily up the steps before turning his head over to Nandor who’s now watching you leave with big sad eyes.
“Alright why’d you do it?” Interrogates Laszlo with a raised brow.
“Do whaaat?” Replies Nandor defensively, his once high and mighty aurora reappearing in an instant.
Rolling his eyes, Laszlo sets a hand on his hip sassily, “Well I sure as hell don’t want an angry Y/N wandering around this old place for the next however the fuck it takes you both to make up....in however fashion that may be. So I ask again, why’d you puss out and flee like a mangy opossum?”
Pursing his lips together in apprehensive embarrassment, Nandor mutters to himself before finally crossing his arms over his broad chest and sighing, “Because......I....I don’t know I panicked!” Exclaims the large vampire, causing Laszlo to start laughing. “Why are you laughing?”
Wiping a fake tear from his eye, Laszlo lets out a few more chuckles before finally composing himself, “My good man that is the second saddest thing I’ve ever heard. The first being when one of my many victims offered me one of their rare and exclusive Poki-muns card which I still have no idea what the fuck they were on about. Anyways, doesn’t matter, all I’ll tell is that you better make it up to her.”
“But she’s scary when she’s angryyy.” Whines Nandor with a frown.
“That’s all women my young pup, but since your lovely lady is a vampire she’s more dangerous.” He says while giving Nandor a kind pat on the back, “So uh, stay safe out there.” Adds Laszlo before turning and walking down the hallway leaving Nandor with his thoughts, Gullimero, and the documentary’s camera crew.
“What are you all looking at!” Snaps Nandor to the rest of the room.
“Oh my goodnessess that’s awful, my poor dark angel.” Soothes Nadja as you take a moment from your long and needed rant about the adventures in the park and Nandor’s cowardly stupidity. “That big hairy rhino doesn’t deserve you Y/N.” She reasons honestly, doing her best to make you feel better, knowing all to well the level of competent decision making skills of the other two vampires in the house.
“I know.” You mutter in agreement, your body tense and agitated as you pace back and forth in front of her as she sits in a chair, “Fucking beautiful idiot prick horse-fart of a husband. Urgghhh!” You proclaim loudly while throwing your hands into the air angrily, causing the furniture in the room to screech backwards across the old flooring at your outburst of vampiric energy. Nadja’s long obsidian hair blowing backwards as you do so while she keeps seated, unflinching.
Face softening, she gives you a sympathetic smile, “Oh my lovely fierce lioness, I know exactly what will make that sad little frown turn into a happy one.” Beams Nadja with an excited clap of her hands.
Hugging your sides, you let out a frustrated huff before giving your old friend a shrug, “What do you have in mind?”
“So we’re at the carnival!” Claps Nadja in delight as she smiles at the camera, “This will hopefully relieve Y/N’s pent up angers and keep her mind off of Nandor.....for now.” She adds a bit uncertainly.
“HA HA take that fuckers!” You shout joyfully from behind her, the camera panning over to you at the ball toss where you’ve been knocking down plastic bottles with a rubber ball. The stall owner cowering in the corner as he shields himself with a stuffed zebra.
The camera focuses back on Nadja, “I think it’s going really well so far.” She confirms with a convincing grin. “Relieving all that..uh....rage.” 
After winning a stuffed snake taller then you and deciding to wear it as a strange fashionable scarf, you and Nadja are wandering the carnivals streets while people watching to pass the time.
“So that’s why I never walk on the roof after 3am when I’ve had homeless man’s blood.” Rambles Nadja as your thoughts about Nandor come trickling down into your brain and nose. Huh, strange, must be cause you’re still wearing a thin red scarf of his.
No, stop thinking about him.
“Good lesson learned then,” You add with the flash of a smile before nudging her shoulder gently, “hey you wanna watch me win you something cool?”
Perking up in an instant, Nadja smiles a devilish fangy grin as she stops to eye up the multiple game stalls, “Why I would be delighted my dear Y/N, how about....um, oooh I want that giant tropical fishy with the long whiskers over there.” Points Nadja as your eyes travel over to the game stall with the large prizes.
It’s a game that requires the individual to shoot an arrow directly on three different sized bullseye’s stationed at various heights. Smiling like an idiot, you nudge your vampiric acquaintance in agreement, the both of you quickly swaggering over to the carnival game and it’s plush flashy prizes just screaming to be won.
“Hello good sir, my skilled roommate Y/N here is going to win me that fish.” Beams Nadja proudly as the teenager jumps off his chair to greet the two of you.
He smells like weed but surprisingly looks decent all things considered, “Uh yeah alright, two bucks for three arrows, hit every target directly on the middle red mark and if you make it on the bonus poster on the far back wall then you’ll have a chance to win that fish, good luck.” Mumbles the kid unenthusiastically as you slide him the cash.
Picking up the shitty yet still functional carnival bow, you give Nadja a wink before fitting an arrow in the nock and pulling back, lining up the shot and releasing directly into the first target to the left. Smirking to yourself you quickly draw again, hitting your second mark just as intended. Pays to be a skilled archer huh.
“Damn that’s pretty good aim.” Nods the teen as he watches in awe as you fit another arrow, releasing and punching a hole in the middle of the third target.
Nadja claps in excitement from behind you, “Yes! Win me that colorful fat bitch my feisty lioness!”
Standing like a warrior ready for battle with your bow in hand and wind blowing in your face, the kid almost drops the arrow he hands you for the winning shot as he practically swoons.
“Get those scissors ready, that fish is mine.” You growl in determination while picturing Nandor’s head as the final target, drawing back, you let the arrow fly straight into the bonus target. Winning Nadja her giant fish plushy.
“Yessss!” Shouts Nadja in delight as you drop the bow onto the table like a bad bitch before eyeing up the kid with a raised brow, “We’ll be taking the fish now.”
Wide eyed he almost falls off his chair, “Wait um, that’s the last one...I didn’t think, uh, my boss doesn’t want me to give away those ones.” He stutters out.
“What!” Snaps Nadja, “Then why are they just hanging there? You lied to us you little shit!”
“I’m sorry.” He pleads apologetically, “That’s what my boss told me. And no one ever wins the big prizes anyway so I didn’t think...”
“Well your boss he can eat a big horse turd cause I’m taking that fish.” You growl before jumping up and unhooking the fish from its perch above your heads, handing it to a practically glowing with joy Nadja who immediately hugs the thing.
Sticking your tongue out at the teen, you and Nadja turn to leave before a boney hand is suddenly on your shoulder, twisting around in an agitated instant, your face is mere inches from the wide eyed boy as he attempts to look even a tad bit threatening.
“No.” Is the only thing that slips from your tongue before your hand shoves him back, his whole body going air bound into the back of the carnival tent while the kid lets out a panicked scream.
“Ooooh Y/N that was very sexy of you.” Smirks Nadja while wiggling her dark brows, “Too bad a certain cowardly lion wasn’t here to see it.”
Petting the stuffed toy snake around your neck absentmindedly, you smile back a fangy grin, “Yes. Too bad.”
Continuing on your late night stroll through the carnival you both pass by random strangers, families, elders, children, and lovers all minding their sweet business completely unawares to the dark supernatural world walking right past them.
Although you’re quite enjoying this time spent with your best friend in the whole wide world, a low dull feeling of emptiness can’t help but creep into your undead being the more you catch sight of new and old couples walking together.
Sensing your growing sadness, Nadja nudges your shoulder playfully to gain your distracted attention, “Hello in there my black rose, what is on your mind?”
Holding the snake close to your body, a small smile creeps its way onto your face knowing she’s looking out for you, though it’s gone soon enough, “Oh you know....uh....blood.” You mutter unenthusiastically, trying to keep your thoughts away from Nandor and how much you miss him right now.
“Blood is it? But we just fed before attending the carnival.” Inquires Nadja in confusion as she keeps a normal pace at your side while the two of you follow the sidewalk past various shops and restaurants. “What is actually plaguing your mind my dear one?” She wonders with a frown, not keen on seeing you upset and in a grey mood.
Biting your lip anxiously, though not hard enough to draw blood, you walk past a couple more people before your eyes catch the sight of a small black bat disappearing behind a corner building just up ahead.
Squinting your eyes, your nose suddenly catches the scent of someone very familiar, “Nandor?”
Turning her head to face you, Nadja’s brows furrow in puzzlement, “What? No my sweet hurricane, forget that mangy old bear he’s not important right now.” Urges Nadja as she looks forward, suddenly surprised to catch a glimpse of someone who looks a lot like Guillermo racing behind the same corner you saw the bat fly behind. “Okay um what the fuck? Did you see that too?”
Glancing at Nadja you nod before quickening your steps as she does the same, her skirts flowing as she tries to catch up with you, though you’re much faster and with lack of annoying dress material, “Wait! You’re too fast.” Yelps Nadja.
Ignoring her protests you book it down the sidewalk like a maniac, almost running into a jogger before skidding round the corner of the brick building and coming face to face with a wide eyed Guillermo who gasps in surprise. Nudging him to the side, your eyes immediately fall upon the nervous fangy grin of your Nandor.
He gives you a shy little wave before shuffling awkwardly in place, awaiting your rampage of verbal and possibly physical assault that he’s certain is in the near future.
Taking a deep breath, you cross your arms over your chest defensively, “Were you following me?”
“Um, well.....I might have been....but only to make sure you were okay.” Mutters Nandor honestly, eyes shifting from you to the ground nervously as he awaits your wrath.
Pursing your lips together in thought, you shake your head before taking off the stuffed toy snake and holding it firmly in your hands. With a low growl do you grasp the snake in your right hand and hold it back like you might swing at any moment.
“You’re a fucking nincompoop you know that right?” Slips from your mouth without an once of anger lacing your words, instead do you hand the snake to Gullimero as Nandor watches in puzzled fear.
Taking a swift step forward, you point a finger into his strong chest while looking sternly up at him, “Racing off and leaving me too fight that angry bitch all by myself, and now following me when I needed a break from you! Nandor....... you’re something else.” You add with a shake of your head.
“Yes I know, and I’m sorry my love.” Smiles Nandor with saddened eyes, “I promise to keep you save from now on and fight off any werewolf who tries to hurt you....even if I am scared.”
Taking a step back, you can’t help the smirk that forms onto your face at his sweet words of forgiveness and sincerity. You know how much he fears werewolves and that he fled the scene thinking you were planning on following too, not realizing that you might actually give a shit about Gullimero’s and the crew’s lives.
“Oh my dear puff dragon,” You declare softly with a small smile, reaching both hands out to grasp his own, “I forgive you.”
Nandor’s face breaks out into the biggest and happiest grin you’ve seen since his last birthday when he walked into your shared crypt only to find you naked and holding a bushel of red roses while seated seductively on his coffin.
“Oh that’s fantastic because I was really missing you.” Reveals Nandor with a gentle squeeze of your hands. “Laszlo and Guillermo can’t make me laugh nearly as much as you can, they’re honestly rather boring.” He says before leaning in closer to whisper, “and not very attractive to look at either.” Causing you to crack another grin and your undead heart to fill with butterflies. 
Chuckling you reach up with one hand to pull his collar closer to you and a second later do your lips clash sweetly against one another in a heated moment of passion. He smiles into the kiss before moving to pull you in closer with both of his hands, one slipping low to cheekily pinch your round bottom.
Feeling him against you once again has to be the best sensation in the whole entirety of the world even if you’ve only been separated for a couple of hours. You absolutely love the way his fingers dig into your back and bum with an animalistic eagerness that’s slowly starting to drive you insane. Oh, the things he does to you.
Especially how his tongue slips into your mouth with ease while you tug at his hair long dark locks. “Y/N!” Suddenly shouts Nadja.
Begrudgingly pulling away, you turn around to face the confused lady vampire while Nandor hugs you from behind, happily smirking at her, knowing she can’t do anything to hurt him now. “Yes Nadja.” You answer.
With the fish plushy hung over her shoulder, her brows furrow in confusion, “What the fuck are you doing? I thought you were mad at him?”
“Yeah well, I was starting to really miss him and also I’m kind of horny now so.” You reply with a shrug as Nandor hugs you tighter, resting his bearded chin against your head while Nadja huffs in defeat.
“Alright. See you at home then.” Adds Nadja before turning towards Guillermo and shoving the giant carnival fish into his arms, “Hold this Gizmo I’m going home.” Then just like that she’s gone in a black wispy poof, flying away in bat form towards the vampire resistance on Staten Island.
“Okay then.” Mutters Gullimero as he looks up at the dark sky.
Feeling a wet kiss on the side of your face and neck you smile before turning around to face your dear husband, “Shall we take flight to seek out our bed chambers?” You speak slyly in a soft yet seductive voice.
“Yes.” Grins Nandor with a flash of lust and excitement before turning his attention over to Guillermo, “Hey Guillermo I’m leaving to make passionate love to my wife so don’t bother us or I will have a rat shit in your pillowcase. Okay?”
You giggle to yourself as Gullimero’s cheeks redden while he side eyes the camera, “Understood master. Have fun.” Squeaks out the loyal familiar as he stands there awkwardly with his hands full of two carnival prizes.
Nandor sneakily squeezes your bottom once more as he gives Gullimero a knowing smirk, “Oh, we will.” Then a second later you two are flying high above the city in bat form, ready to make love to your sweet Nandor for probably the twentieth time that week.
Down below the camera pans over to Gullimero as he blinks, “Well uh, I have these things now..” He says, holding up the fish, “and I am so not looking forward to cleaning up their mess.......again.”
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somethinginthewayiam · a year ago
Rushing off set
Pairing: Henry x reader
Warnings: language, a lot of fluff
Words: 1783
Summary: Henry is in the middle of filming the Witcher when he gets the call that his girlfriend is in labor. He rushes off set, completely forgetting that he is in full Geralt wig and costume...
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Marcie, Henry‘s PA on the set of The Witcher, was watching the dialogue scene around the camp fire behind camera, holding his coat for when the director yelled cut. They were shooting outside in the nearby forest. It was dark and cold, not unusual for fall in England.
When Marcie shifted her weight from one leg to the other, she also transferred the coat from one arm to the other and that’s when she felt the vibration at her leg. It must be Henry’s phone. She opened the zipper and pulled out the actor’s phone. Normally, she wouldn’t do this but Henry gave her the permission as his little girl was due any minute now.
When Marcie activated the front screen, the phone almost fell out of her hands. 21 missed calls, 15 messages. And that minute seemed to be right now. A new message just popped up on the screen.
“Oh fuck”, she mumbled to herself. Marcie took a step forward, but then stopped herself. She knew she should tell him right away, but she was also so new to set that she didn’t dare to interrupt a scene. With restless feet, Marcie waited in her spot for the director to finally yell cut. It was probably just 5 minutes, but it felt like 5 hours to her.
“CUT! Thank you”, the director finally called out and Marcie rushed over to Henry, who was sitting on a log at the camp fire. She basically threw his phone at him and held the coat up for him to get in. “Y/N’s water broke. She’s on the way to the hospital”, she immediately said. It took Henry a second to understand what his PA just told him. “Shit, fuck, okay”, he said as he jumped to his feet, but then didn’t move an inch. “GO!”, Marcie yelled at him.
Henry finally rushed off set, people turning their heads as they watched him leave. Marcie ran after him. “The baby’s coming. The baby’s coming”, she told everyone she passed to explain Henry’s sudden exit. Amid the applause of the people crowding the set, Henry headed towards his car. Only on the far edge of his conscience, he noticed people congratulating him and patting his back.
Marcie had trouble keeping up with him. She only arrived at his car when he closed the door behind him and started the engine. “Good luck, Henry. Congrats!”, she shouted at the car driving off the parking lot.
When she turned around to walk back to set, she suddenly stopped and her eyes went big. Henry was still in his full Geralt get-up. Leather armor, wig and everything. “That’s gonna be interesting”, she mumbled to herself when she continued walking.
 “Hello, I’m looking for my girlfriend. She’s having our baby, probably right now”, Henry said to the nurse at the receptionist’s desk. She only looked at him with big eyes, her mouth falling open but not a word coming out.
“Henry!”, he heard the voice of his brother Nick. He was coming at him with fast steps. “Vicki and I brought her in…hahahaha”, Nick started laughing. Henry didn’t think there was anything funny about his girlfriend giving birth and he might be missing it because his brother rather laughed in the middle of a hospital than showing him the way to Y/N’s room.
“Oh, she’s gonna love that”, Nick said and with that led the way to your room. Henry could hear you before he could see you.
“You’re doing so good, Y/N, keep breathing. Deep breaths”, Vicki coached you through another contraction. They were coming every minute now and getting heavier by the second.
“He’s here! I found him down in the lobby”, Nick exclaimed as he entered the room, Henry right at his heels. Vicki turned around and suppressed a laugh as she spotted Henry in his Geralt wig and outfit. She let go of your hand and made way for the daddy-to-be.
“I’m here, baby. I’m here”, Henry said and rushed to your side, grabbing your now empty hand. Just as the contraction washed away, already bracing yourself for the next one, you finally looked over at your boyfriend. “Oh, you gotta be kidding me!”, you breathed out. Your forehead was sweaty, little strands of your hair sticking to your skin.
“I rushed right off set when I got the news. I’m sorry I wasn’t here earlier”, Henry explained and kissed the back of your hand apologizingly.
“Please tell me you have your other clothes in the car?”, Nick asked his little brother before you were able to. “No, I forgot it in my trailer”, Henry said after recollecting his memory. “My bag”, you just nodded as you felt another contraction coming. You packed a pair of sweatpants and a shirt for Henry as you feared this might happen. Vicki got your bag out of the little closet and pulled out said clothes shortly after.
The CTG started beeping a little hectically as the next contraction started. You squeezed Henry’s hand hard to relief some of the pain. You were taking deep breaths and releasing it in short, quick breaths just like you had learned in your classes. Henry was doing it with you, but besides that there wasn’t anything he could do. He never felt more useless.
“Ah, the White Wolf has joined us. Finally”, your doctor said as she came through the door. In previous appointments, you have established that your OB/GYN was a fan of the show, but, thank god, was not fangirling over Henry.
“Y/N, I’m going to check on your dilation real quick. The rest of you have to leave for a minute, okay?”, she told everybody. Henry went into the little bathroom adjoined to your hospital room to change his clothes and Nick accompanied him to help him out of his costume. Vicki stayed with you to hold your hand.
When Henry and Nick came back out, the doctor was gone. “She said, Y/N’s at 9 centimeters so it’s gonna be any minute now”, Vicki updated the men and Henry took his place by your side again.
Just then, a bunch of nurses and your doctor came back in and it started getting hectic. Vicki and Nick left the room, but told you they would wait outside.
Henry was now dressed in his sweatpants and shirt, but still had the wig on. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noticed a fake scar on his arm. But you had other things to worry about.
The doctor sat down on a little chair right in front of the bed and had you scooting down a bit. “Alright, with the next contraction, I need you to push with everything you’ve got, Y/N”, your doctor told you. A nurse lifted and bent your legs, showing Henry how to hold it to help you as best as he could. Then she walked around the bed to the other side and held your other leg.
You gripped the handle bars of the bed and braced yourself. The CTG in the corner started beeping hectically, but you didn’t need that reminder. “Now. Push, Y/N, push”, the doctor said. You bent forward, putting your chin on your chest and pushed with everything you got. Henry put his hand on your upper back, helping you to push forward while his other hand still held your leg.
It took a few good pushes before your little girl was finally out. The doctor put her on your chest while a nurse cleaned her face. She was crying at the top of her lunges and it was the best sound you had ever heard. You cried out of relief, looking down at the little baby on your chest.
Henry kissed you and you found him crying as well. All you two had ever wanted in life had just come true.
“Would daddy do us the honors?”, the doctor asked and held up a pair of medical scissors for Henry to cut the umbilical cord. With shaking hands, Henry made the cut and quickly handed off the pair of scissors, already fearing he could hurt his baby girl in any way.
“What will the little girl’s name be?”, the nurse asked as she was filling out the birth certificate. “Amanda”, Henry said for you as you were still busy crying.
“Alright, Helen will take Amanda to her first check-up”, the doctor explained as a nurse came over, wrapped a blanket around your baby and took her off your chest. “Daddy, you can go with your little lady. Mama and I still have a few things to do here”, the doctor continued. You already missed your daughter but you knew she was in good hands.
 After the check-up, nurse Helen led Henry back into your room. There was nothing left from the little chaos that had just happened a few minutes before. You were resting in your bed, barely able to keep your eyes open, even though you felt like you could finally beat Henry at arm wrestling.
Helen sat Henry down in a chair next to your bed, asking him to take his shirt off. He would now have his first skin-to-skin with his baby girl. With quick and trained fingers, the nurse gently wrapped your baby out of the blanket and put her on Henry’s chest, showing him how to hold her best. Then, she wrapped the blanket back around the two of them.
And then the three of you were alone for the first time. You looked over at your boyfriend holding your daughter at his chest. You felt your eyes tearing up. You had never seen something more beautiful. Even thought he was wearing the Geralt wig and the fake scars.
“We did it, baby”, you mumbled with a big smile. Henry looked up at you, tears in the corners of his eyes. “You did it. You were amazing, baby”, he said and looked down at the sleeping girl in his arms. He didn’t dare to move an inch ever again.
Only a little while later, Nick and Vicki came into the room, congratulating you on becoming parents and meeting their new niece. Nick took a picture of Henry with his little girl which Henry later posted on his Instagram with the caption, “Geralt met our little girl before me. The past hours where the most life-changing I had ever experienced. As you can see, I rushed off set to not miss the birth of our little girl. Mother and child are healthy and absolutely perfect. Let the new chapter of our lives begin, @Y/I/N”
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gotnofucks · a year ago
Paring: dark!Peter Parker x Reader
Summary: How were you to know who’s a monster, who’s a savior when they all hide behind a mask
Words: 4.7k
Warnings: violence, manipulation, dark themes, language, 18+ ONLY
A/N: Aged up Peter Parker (obviously). No smut in here, even I surprised myself.
You stared in the mirror, hands clammy as you tried to angle the phone right. The lightening was not perfect, and you twisted, trying to see if you’ll need to turn on the flash. Just as you thought you’d found your position, your phone chimed and you jumped. Clicking on the notification you opened your messages and found another text from the private number.
Be quick
Just above this was the text you’d received 20 minutes ago that had you running into the bathroom and taking your top and bra off within minutes.
Send me a pic of your right nipple
It had started a couple weeks ago with the kidnapping of your boyfriend, Sammy. You didn’t realize he had been kidnapped at first. He worked as a driver for a rich family and they took him away without preamble overnight for visits into next town. You only noticed something was strange when all your calls and texts remained unanswered for two days and you finally made a call to his employers to figure out if everything was okay. It was a shock to realize that the family was in town and hadn’t seen him for two days too. You had jumped into action, barely making sure you were appropriately dressed as you made your way to the police station to report a missing person’s report. You had parked down and were just about to open your door when the first message pinged. You almost didn’t check your phone, but the notification said private number, so you clicked on it. Your world came crashing down.
It was a picture of your boyfriend tied to a metal chair in what looked like a warehouse with blood caking his hairline and mouth gagged. Tears were streaming down his face and you covered your mouth in shock. Another message chimed, this one reading:
Don’t even think of going inside. Turn around and go back to your home
You had whipped your head around, looking out of the window with terrified eyes as you tried to see anyone who looked suspicious or was paying attention to you. Nothing struck you out of the ordinary and you were more determined than ever to go in and file a report when another message popped up.
Go home or I can send your precious lover’s head to you in a parcel
Maybe you should have gone inside, maybe you should have told someone. But when someone is holding a gun to the love of your life, you do what the fuck they say. Common sense doesn’t come into play. Last minute solutions don’t play in your mind. It was real life, not a movie. You drove back to your house in tears, hands trembling. Your boyfriend was not missing, he’d been taken by someone. The drive back home was a blur and you barely made it without hitting someone or yourself. You parked outside and entered your home, locking the door behind. The moment you were in, another text alert:
Good girl
You locked all the doors and windows, the curtains drawn shut. You sat down in the living you, finally finding the nerve to text back.
Who are you? What do you want?
You waited for a reply, your eyes darting around your house. Did the person have camera’s in your house or were you simply followed? Would they really hurt Sammy or was that an empty threat? Should you call his parents? Your parents? Your phone dinged and quickly swiped up to open the text.
I want you to send me picture of your little toe
What the fuck? This had to be some sort of a joke. You were shaking in fear and anger, your hand clutching the phone in a dead grip. You should have gone and made the complaint. It was dark outside now, but you’d go to the police station first thing tomorrow morning. To hell with this person, you will not be scared of them. You took a screenshot of the messages and made sure your house was secure before retiring to your room with a knife. Sleep came late and restless, your worry keeping you from having a sated sleep. Horrible scenarios ran across your mind, each worse than the last.
You woke up early and dressed up. You needed to be at the station as soon as possible, Sammy was in danger. Whoever had him seemed addled in the brain. You were just pouring your coffee in your travelling mug when the doorbell rang. Your heart beat in your throat, your body seizing up in terror. You got your knife from the kitchen, creeping to the door on all fours trying to make the least amount of noise as possible. You leaned up slightly to peep out the peephole and saw a delivery man. He looked normal enough, cranky from an early delivery. You cautiously opened the door a few inches, hiding the knife behind your back.
“Y/n Y/l/n?” He asked and you nodded. He held out a small parcel to you along with a form to sign. You opened the door a few more inches and quickly scribbled your name across the form, taking the parcel with tentative hands. The man walked away without a goodbye and you sighed. Not everyone was out there to get you.
You placed the parcel on the table. It held only the delivery receipt, no other marks on it. It was small, almost like a jewelry box. You looked at the time and thought to open it first. You didn’t wanna deal with sleep deprived officers who refuse to take you seriously at the station. Getting out you scissors you cut the brown paper off and opened the plain carboard box. Inside was a jewelry box like you had expected, but who would send this to you? There was no note and you opened the flap.
It fell out of your hands as you screamed, your hands rushing to your mouth in horror. The thing that had been perched inside like a ring rolled out and fell on the floor, resting at your feet. It was a little toe. A severed, human little toe. And if your hunch was right, you knew who it belonged to. Your phone chimed at that very moment and you swallowed back the bile in your throat when you swiped up.
Next time, listen. I have no trouble sending his head to you.
P.S. Drink that coffee, looks delicious. And be a good girl and forget about the police if you give a damn about your piece of shit boyfriend.
P.P.S I’ll like a pic of your pinky finger
You send him the pic with shaky hands, tears falling down your cheeks.
This is how it went for a few weeks, them asking for pictures of different body parts. Each with a threat of the same part being chopped off Sammy’s body if you don’t comply. Whoever they were, they didn’t call you and you couldn’t call them. You rarely texted, only asking if Sammy was okay and you’ll get vague texts in reply saying, ‘that depends on you’.
The pictures were seemingly innocent enough at first. Your fingers, your knee, your shoulder, hair braided, hair in a pony. But then they got dangerous. The inside of your things, your ass in a pink pair of panties, your nipples. You gave them what they wanted. As long as Sammy was okay, but you didn’t know how long you could continue this. Something had to be done
You were probably making a big mistake, but you had no option. Police was out of question, but they weren’t the police. Not entirely.
The kidnapper could for some reason follow you everywhere, even look inside your home though you had scoured every corner and found no cameras. You needed people more powerful and they were the only ones who could help. You know they didn’t have time for something this small as they dealt with world endangering events, but you had to try. You entered the Avengers Tower, making your way to the front desk. The lady sitting behind looked kind enough, greeting you politely.
“Hello, how can I help you?” She asked with a practiced smile and you nervously smiled back.
“I uh, I want to make a complaint.” You winced as you said that, your eyes darting around. The lady however gave you a sympathetic smile, slipping you a form to fill.
“You can fill this one, but it may take a while to get to them. They can be very busy” She said, and you nodded, taking the form and going to sit on a couch to fill it out. You gave all the necessary information, adding in that you had picture proof. You hoped it reached someone here who could help, if not the avengers then someone from Shield. You got up to submit it when you bumped into somebody, making them drop their papers along with yours.
“Oh, I am so sorry” you apologized, bending down to gather their stuff as well as yours. A hand reached out to help and you looked up in the eyes of Sam Wilson. You blinked and then stammered another apology that he waved away. He got the papers from your hand, looking over and found your form.
“This yours miss?” He asked as he looked over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read on. You nodded and bit your lip. He turned it over and then looked back at you. “Do you have the picture evidence?” He asked tapping the paper and you nodded quickly. You showed him your phone, with the messages and pictures. He frowned, his handsome face pinched.
“Can you help me? They sent me his severed toe. For all I know he isn’t even alive now.” You croaked and Sam looked at you with kind eyes.
“Y/n, isn’t it?” He asked and you nodded. “Well, this looked very creepy and bad. I’ll take it up to the team okay? See if someone can spare sometime on it. Here, take my card. Call me if they approach you again.”
You almost sobbed with relief, glad that something seemingly good finally happened. You thanked him and pocketed his card, hoping you made the right call. It didn’t matter now anyway. You were in deep. Either the kidnappers find out and threaten you, possibly killing Sammy. Or they piss their pants and leave you the hell alone. You just wanted this to be over.
You returned to your flat with a lighter heart, having a full dinner after ages. You had the avengers on your case. The avengers. The guys who took down aliens and planet-wiping asshats. They will put an end to this, you were sure. You slept better that night too, heinous dreams not plaguing you for a change.
You went to work early that day. Usually your shift at the local clinic didn’t start until an hour later, but you were feeling hopeful. Helping people through the day by stitching their wounds or giving a kid a cartoon bandage took your mind off things. It was a smooth day, almost normal. No more texts from the kidnapper today and if Sammy were home, things would be perfect. You were only just leaving when another person walked in your station, a cut bleeding over their lip. You recognized the boy and gave him a reproachful look.
“Peter, again?” You groaned, your hands automatically reaching for the antiseptic wipes. He came in once every few weeks, battered from one thing or another. You were sure some gang was beating him up, but he never confided. He was your age, studying some cool physics stuff while you nursed here. He was a very regular patient.
“Hey Y/n, can you patch me up. Again.” He said, ruffling his hair awkwardly. You tended to him, being careful not to hurt him even though he barely flinched. He had tremendous pain tolerance and you didn’t wanna know how he built it up. He was a great guy, pretty cool and respectful.
“There you go, all done. Maybe listen to me for once and don’t do whatever it is you do.” You advised, and he sent you a bashful grin that you knew meant your words went in one ear and out of the other.
“Thanks. You look good today, happier. Something good happen?” He asked and you smiled a little.
“I think so. I’ll get to know soon enough. You look after yourself, mkay?” You say and pack up your stuff. You saw him lingering, feet shuffling around so you raised an eyebrow.
“Um, I was wondering if you’d wanna go out for a coffee or something?” He asked and now it was your turn to shuffle uneasily.
“Peter, I’m really flattered. But I’m in a relationship already.” You told him and saw him frown.
“You have a boyfriend?” He asked confused and you nodded. Sammy was still your boyfriend, regardless of everything. You weren’t going to go around dating behind his back. He will come home. You were sure he will. Peter’s face fell and before you could say something he nodded and left. You felt horrible, but you hoped he will come around.
You got a call from Sam right before you went to sleep.
“Hey, did the kidnappers contact you?” He asked and you said no. He hummed and spoke to someone in the background. “Can you come over to the tower tomorrow? We’ll have a look at your phone, try and track the number?”
You agreed to meet him there at noon and a smile spread on your face. Things seemed to be progressing. Maybe the kidnapper was too scared of the avengers to make any move. You hoped you’ll get Sammy back soon.
You reached the tower with ten minutes to spare. You had taken trouble dressing up today as you didn’t know if you’ll meet more avengers. It was a blessing to have them and you prayed things will turn out okay. Sam met you in the lobby, waving at you.
“Hey, come on up. We’ve got a tech team waiting” He said, and you followed him to the elevator. It seemed to rise up and up, and you got nervous. You were glad you hadn’t deleted anything from your phone but worried what they will say about it. You had after all sent nude pics to a stranger.
“Hey, don’t worry. It’s a safe space.” Sam promised you and you tried to force a smile.
You exited with him in what looked like a huge office space, with cabins and sleek furniture everywhere. He led you to the cabin at the end and held the door for you to enter. You took a step inside and almost stopped short. When Sam said tech team you didn’t know it would mean Black Widow and Tony Stark.
“Come on in, we don’t bite.” Tony teased you, waving you forward and you stumbled. They both shook your hands and offered you a seat where you sat gobsmacked. You kinda sat like a goldfish until manners and mobility returned and you greeted them with a high pitch hello.
“Hey kid, you don’t need to worry. We got a free day today and Wilson said a young lady needed saving. Romanoff loves the ladies you know.” Tony winked and Nat threw a stapler at him that he caught. You nervously smiled and then they got to business. You explained everything to them, showing them the texts and pictures.
“Hmm, it’s a private number. Let’s see if we can do something about it.” Nat said and connected your phone to her laptop, clattering away on the keys. As she did, her brows drew together and she huffed. “Oh, this one is good. Not good enough for me though.”
She kept at it for a few minutes and when her device beeped her mouth parted a little. She moved her head away and blinked before passing the laptop to Tony who looked baffled. He started his own clattering and you tensed. The laptop beeped again and just then the door opened. You looked up to see…a man wearing the spiderman mask.
“Hey kid, you know you can take that thing off in here.” Sam said.
“I’m good. I need to leave soon anyway.” The voice behind the mask said and it almost sounded familiar. He looked at you and waved and you returned the gesture. Of course, Spiderman’s identity was a secret. You were probably the reason he was wearing the mask in the first place.
“This doesn’t seem right.” Tony mused and he and Nat exchanged a look.
“What is it?” You asked and Sam echoed your question.
“Well, the signals of the phone trace back to this tower.” Tony answered and he seemed as bewildered as you.
“What? Like a shield agent? That would explain how they could spy on her without too much trouble.” Sam mused.
“You mind if I see Mr. Stark?” Spiderman asked and Tony passed the laptop to him, leaning back in his seat.
“I’ll have Friday run a scan all over the tower. We’ll have an identity soon. But damn, this is disturbing.” Tony said and you felt anticipation rise in you. You’ll have the name of the kidnapper soon, and after that Sammy can be home.
“Uh, Mr. Stark, something is going on here. I – I swear I didn’t do anything.” Spiderman called out in a panicked voice and Tony and Nat crowed around him.
“What the fuck? How did this happen?” Nat scowled, her face almost buried in the screen as Tony did whatever he did there. “This…this can’t just happen. Tony!”
They looked up at you genuinely confused as you stared back with wide eyes.
“It seems like someone just deleted all the data from the number, including the trace. That shouldn’t have been possible.” Nat explained and you willed your tears away. All the proof you had gathered was lost, including the only lead you’d had for months.
“Hey kid, don’t cry. We’ve got you, okay. We know its someone from inside the tower. We’ll keep a watch.” Tony assured you, patting your shoulder in a fatherly way. You sniffled and shifted in your seat, all the hopelessness coming back.
“I think someone should keep a watch with her.” Nat suggested. “Whoever they are, we know they are good. Must be some top shield agent. A stakeout at her place, that should clear shit up.”
The others nodded and you cringed. You didn’t want to trouble them or have your privacy invaded this way, but if that was what it took to get Sammy back, you’ll be okay with it. So, you agreed.
“I’ll see if Wanda is free.” Sam suggested when Spiderman stood up and waved goodbye.
“Now wait here Wilson, we got our friendly neighborhood hero right here. Kid, you look after her. Your people skills are depressing and maybe you’ll cheer up a bit.” Tony said and you saw Spiderman wring out his hands.
“Mr. Stark, I’ve got college.”
“She’s got work.” Tony looked at you and you nodded. “See it will be perfect. Go on, pack an overnight.”
You gave out your address and went back home, aggressively cleaning before Spiderman arrived. You felt kinda bad for him since you knew he didn’t wanna be here, but well, job’s a job. He arrived just as you’d finished shoving your stuff under the bed and you opened the door to him still wearing the mask.
“Hey, make yourself at home. I’d give you a tour but its only one room, bathroom and kitchen.” You said awkwardly, his red face looking around.
“It’s chill. I’ll make my bed on the couch. You don’t need to worry. I’ll keep you safe.” He promised. His voice wasn’t very rough, and you thought he must be somewhere around your age.
“You can uh, take your mask off if you wanna. I swear I won’t tell anyone” You promised but he shook his head.
“I’m fine. Please, don’t bother. Go about your day as usual. I’ll make myself scarce.” He set his bag on the coffee table and took out his books. Some complicated physics stuff. Well, Tony Stark wouldn’t just have a stupid rookie in his team.
You and Spiderman (Seriously, you can just call me Erek Trapper) had a simple dinner. You knew he’d given you a fake name, probably just an anagram but you didn’t push him. You valued your privacy too. He wasn’t too much trouble, always polite and never in your way. Only once you found him in your doorway watching you sleep, but he very embarrassedly told you that he needed an extra pillow to sleep. You gave him one after which he didn’t appear again.
He stayed for a week before shit happened. You were alone at home when your phone buzzed. “Erek” was still not back from his classes and you were making dinner. You picked up your phone and almost dropped it in fright. A private number.
Such a silly dumb girl you are.
Another buzz
You’re not good at taking orders, are you? We’re gonna work on that
And here I thought you cared about this pathetic boy
I should have really sent you his whole leg instead of the toe
Look in your kitchen drawer
You turned around, sweat running down your neck and tremors hit you as you pulled out your drawer. You screamed, bloody fingernails inside a cup greeting you. You stumbled back and your windows started rattling all at once. You sat huddled in the kitchen, screaming with your head between your legs as knocks echoed around your apartment, multiple doors and windows banging. You sniffed and suddenly looked across the hall where a fire burned in your room.
“No!” You couldn’t get up, frozen in shock. The doors kept banging, smoke filling the house and your lungs, blurring your vision. Your throat was hoarse and dry and you coughed, trying and failing to stand up with support of the counter. You knocked against the drawer, the cup of nails tumbling down over you making you flail and howl.
You crawled away on shaky feet, feeling more exhausted than ever. Your lungs burned and you coughed, losing feeling of your body. The door was banging louder than ever and you shut your ears, tears making their way down your face.
It opened with a bang, a man nearly flying inside and to your side. Cool hands gripped your face and tapped your cheeks, urging you to keep your eyes open. You were in his arms, being lifted outside from your home.
“Mr. Stark, no, I got there in time. Yes sir. Taking her with me. Bring her to the tower? Yes sir. She’s okay – I don’t know. Maybe. Yes. Gonna be swinging with her.” He spoke to someone.
Air rushed against you and you barely opened your eyes before shutting them again. You were flying from building to building, only one arm around you keeping you safe. You hugged him tight, pressing your face into his neck.
“We’re almost there, Y/n. Damn it! I knew I should have controlled the drugs.”
You didn’t understand what he said and as the swinging motion grew frantic, your eyes shut.
Beeping of a machine greeted you and your eyes opened to the view of a hospital room. A tube was in your arm, a tv playing softly in the background. Your tongue felt heavy in your mouth and as your memories flooded you, you stood up. The beeping increased and a door opened to let in a man in middle age, with soft salt and pepper curls.
“Hey hey, its alright. You’re safe. You need to lay down.” He said. He looked so familiar and your eyes widened as you recognized him as Dr. Bruce Banner.
“I – what happened?” You asked. Before he could answer, Spiderman walked in and took the seat by your bed.
“I’ll let you guys talk. I’m going to be with Tony, Pete. Call me if you need something. And for god’s sake, take this goddamn mask off.” Bruce chided and left.
You looked at Spiderman who slowly took off his mask and your mouth dropped open. These brown eyes and hair.
“Peter?” You gasped and he nodded, abashed.
“I’m sorry I had to hide like this. I was going to let you know.” He explained. His eyes widened like he really really wanted you to understand.
“You’re Spiderman? So that’s where you got all those cuts from” You said, and he nodded. You raked a hand through your hair and winced when they tangled in some knots. “Thank you, Peter, for saving me. The fire, I – I don’t know what happened.”
Peter took your hands in his and placed a kiss on your knuckles. You frowned, trying to take your hand away but he resisted.
“Of course, I saved you. Sammy would have killed you otherwise.” He remarked and you started.
“Sammy? He’s here?” You almost jumped out the bed and Peter pushed down on your shoulder.
“Y/n, you don’t understand. Sammy was the kidnapper. He…he faked it.”
Peter was speaking but not making any sense. Why the hell would Sammy do that? You saw his bloodied pictures, you saw his torn off toe and fingernails.
“You’re mistaken.” You whisper but Peter shook his head.
“No, of course you’ll believe that. Sammy worked as a temp here last year. He got into Shield’s database and has been using that information to torture you. He faked it darling.” Peter said and pressed another kiss on your hand.
“That’s a lie. He never worked here! He was working for a family downtown!” You shouted and Peter nodded at you.
“Yes, but Friday’s data can be manipulated, and people paid off. They will never testify to knowing him.”
It took you a ridiculously long time to come to terms with what Peter said. His fingers were caressing up and down your arm, lips pressing soft kisses on your palm and wrist. You tried to wiggle it free, but he squeezed hard and you cried out.
“Don’t struggle, I don’t wanna hurt you anymore. I almost added too much hallucinogen to the smoke. You really scared me baby. Don’t do that again.” He scolded you and your eyes brimmed with tears. He wiped them away, cupping your cheek and you turned your face away.
Peter nodded, his other hand playing with your hair.
“You were always so sweet Y/n. So nice to me, never asking too many questions. Being kind to me when I was beaten up. I have wanted you for months but then you kept talking to your friends about Sammy and it made me so sad. So, I took him away, kidnapped him. I tried to give you a closure, stage it properly. I would have killed him and sent you a picture, consoled you after his death. I asked you out, remember, and you still turned me down. But then you came here, to Mr. Stark. That day I barely managed to corrupt the filed on his laptop, they were so close to finding me. And well, I didn’t even have to manipulate him into sending me at your place. That worked out so smooth. Now, all the evidence is in play. Sammy will be indicted for conspiracy and attempt to murder. And you and me, we can be together.”
You opened your mouth to shout and his hand was promptly there, blocking all sound.
“Shh, don’t baby. I know you’re scared. I know. But Sammy is still with me. I can do anything. Right now, I’ve only cut off a toe and his nails. He’s still breathing. I think he’ll have a way better life in prison than in a grave, yeah?”
Peter leaned down and kissed your tears away, and when he removed his hands only sobs escaped your mouth. He cupped your face, looking so kind you doubted if whatever he said actually happened.
“No one will come between us. You’ll be mine and I’ll be yours.”
He pressed his lips to yours and you closed your eyes in surrender.
Taglist: @shooting-star-love @what-is-your-wish @littlegasps
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kozumekenza · 10 months ago
house of memories :: four
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:: kageyama tobio x f!reader :: playlist :: masterlist ::
:: taglist: open :: wc: 2.3k ::
the last you had heard of kageyama tobio, he was following his grandfather’s footsteps and leaving you behind to join the syndicate. a chance meeting throws him back into your life, along with all of the memories.
tw: mafia elements, profanity, blood, gunshot wound, kidnapping, implied drug use (marijuana)
a/n: posting an hour early :)
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“I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Simple words, and predictable ones, but his heart still hurts. He knew this, he knew it was coming, he knew what you would say, he prepared himself for it, so why does it feel like his world is crashing down? He’s leaving you, but he guesses you’re leaving him first. The thought brings him comfort. He didn’t want to involve you in this, as much as it hurts watching you walk away. He should be thankful that you’re breaking his heart and not the other way around. He should be thankful that you’ll hopefully hold this against him for the rest of his life. He should be thankful that you will never know the cold steel of a gun, the glint of an attacker’s knife. 
You’re long gone by now, probably tucked into bed. He’s right where you left him, although he is no longer staring at the spot where you were standing. Now, he’s watching the moonlight on the water. The world looks cast in melancholy blue; a beautiful setting for his final night and a tearful goodbye.
He is thankful for this last chance to see you; to memorize your features and commit them all to memory. He is thankful for the tears on his face, as he will not be allowed to show them in the future. He is thankful for all the emotions that he is currently feeling; he savors them, knowing that when he wakes up tomorrow, they will be long gone; suppressed forever. 
You’re up and running before you even have the chance to fully grasp the situation at hand. There’s blood, so much blood; Miwa’s calling to you, but you can’t hear her. There’s only the pounding of your heart in your ears and the four years worth of schooling you’ve received; racking your brain for any and all useful information. 
“I need all the medical supplies you have; a first aid kit, bandages, forceps, scissors.” You pray that Miwa is listening, that your voice is projecting. “I know we probably can’t take him to the hospital, but if you have a doctor you normally see for stuff like this, call them.”
You press your hands to the wound. From what you can tell, it’s a bullet wound towards the bottom left of Kageyama’s chest. His heart is still beating and his breathing is slow, but steady, and you allow yourself a moment to be thankful that his lung hasn't collapsed. You focus on your next steps: stopping the bleeding, fully assessing the severity of the wound, and stabilizing Kageyama somewhere that isn’t the foyer’s floor. 
Miwa drops down next to you with what you hope are sterile rags. “I called our doctor, she’ll be here soon.” She unwraps the plastic covering and hands you the rags, and you press them to Kageyama’s chest. “If we can just stop the bleeding, he’ll be fine.”
You can’t help but shiver at the thought that this isn’t the first time something like this has happened. 
Kageyama Tobio is used to being shot at, but the bullets rarely meet their mark. Unfortunately, due to his own stupidity, this one does. 
He curses as he runs to his car and jams the keys into the ignition. The fleeting thought that the blood will be a pain to get out of the seats crosses his mind, but he shakes his head and it’s gone. His only goal now is to get back to the penthouse. Miwa will know what to do. 
When he stumbles in, feeling faint, his exhausted brain short-circuits at the sight of you. He falls to the floor as his vision blurs, feeling slightly thankful that if he dies tonight, at least the last thing he saw was you.
He knows he’s dreaming, that he’s drifting in and out of consciousness. He dreams of his childhood spent by your side, he dreams of your final goodbye. Even when he thinks he’s awake, he knows he must be dreaming, because you’re here, holding his hand and sitting by his side. He tries to reach out, to brush the tears off of your cheeks, but he can’t. He feels as if he’s failed you again.
The doctor is nice, a woman in her late twenties named Kiyoko. She performs her duties clinically, allowing you to help where you can and reassuring Miwa that everything will be fine. When the bullet is finally removed and Kageyama is stitched up, you collapse into a chair next to his bed.
You watch him carefully as Miwa flits around the penthouse, cleaning up and moving around Kageyama’s appointments for the next few weeks to allow him time to recover. You hold his hand in your own and rest your head on the side of the bed.
You were terrified tonight, you’ll admit it. You aren’t quite sure how you kept your cool and focused on the task at hand. You’re thankful that he is still breathing, that his heart is still beating. 
If you hadn’t walked away, would this be the norm for you? Would you be accustomed to Kageyama coming home bleeding and half-dead? You don’t know how you would cope in a situation like that, unsure if Kageyama would come home in one piece or even come home at all. The thought terrifies you; knowing that for these past four years, there were times where he was injured and you had no clue, and that he will most likely continue to get hurt in the future.
Is it better or worse to be here for it, to be aware? Is it better to know and be there for him while enduring the pain of it all, or is it better to be blissfully unaware, back to your normal life where you know his job is a risk, but you aren’t involved?
The man is thrilled at all of the information contained in a tiny computer file. Better than he ever could have imagined; giving him the ability to hurt his enemy is the worst possible way - through the people he cares about. 
It’s a low blow, even in this world, but what can he do? He’s run out of options. His enemy’s reign over Tokyo has encroached too far into his own territory, and has been occurring for far too long. 
You’re an easy target; far better than attempting anything with his sister. She has the knowledge and power of the underworld to wield against him, but you, you, are perfect. No skills with a weapon, no comprehension of how things work in this world. 
An innocent, perfect girl for him to corrupt. 
He grins at the thought. 
When Kageyama’s eyes finally open in the early hours of the morning, you almost burst into tears. You knew that he was physically fine; the wound would hurt, but was stitched and bandaged and fixed. You didn’t know how it would take a toll on the rest of his body. Some people suffer traumatic injuries and don’t wake up for days, months, years, ever. 
You grin as Kageyama slowly opens his eyes, assessing the room around him. 
“Y/n?” His voice is weak, but he’s awake. Alive. 
“Yeah?” You’re still holding his hand, leaning on your arm as you reach for his forehead to check his body temperature.
“You’re here.”
He’s clearly still a little out of it, and you can tell that his brain is trying to piece together the picture of you before him. You laugh a little before you answer, “Of course I’m here. Where else would I be?”
His face is blank and he’s completely impassive when he says, “Not here.”
Miwa walks in to you laughing at Kageyama, who clearly does not understand why you’re laughing at him. She rushes over to him when she sees that he’s awake, gently hugging him.
“Tobio, thank god you’re alright. I was so fucking worried about you, you little shit.” She slaps his shoulder lightly, causing him to wince. 
You step away to give them some privacy, heading out to get some water and pain meds from the kitchen, but as you cross the threshold of the bedroom, Kageyama speaks up. “Y/n, are you leaving?”
The ache in his voice is obvious, and it sends a pang to your heart. “I’m just going to get some water and medication for you.”
He’s smiling a little when he turns back to Miwa. “Okay, good.”
The next few weeks are fine, generally speaking. You spend the majority of your time at Kageyama’s penthouse, watching over his recovery and hanging out with Miwa. Hana becomes a bit suspicious when she notices you’re away from home more than you’re there, but you simply say that you met an old friend at the club that night and you’ve been hanging out with them. It’s not necessarily a lie, and she buys it regardless; she’s so busy with Ushijima and school that you doubt she really notices how much you’re missing anyway. 
Most days, Miwa or Kageyama’s driver picks you up from the university in the afternoon, and you spend the rest of your evening in the penthouse. Sometimes, you sit by Kageyama’s bed and do homework while he rests, which most of the time ends up being a fight to get him to stay in bed while he insists he’s well enough to work. Other days, mostly when Kageyama is too tired to put up much of a fight, you hang out with Miwa, watching movies or cooking dinner together. 
It surprises you, just how easily you fit into their lives. Miwa says so as well, telling you that it has to be fate; there’s no way that someone could adjust to their lifestyle as quickly and as well as you do. You spend a lot of time thinking; you don’t mind being with them, in fact, you cherish your time at the penthouse. Kageyama’s job doesn’t phase you as much anymore. You don’t think about it when you spend time with him or Miwa, instead, you think about how appreciative you are for their roles in your life. 
Most recently, you’ve started helping Miwa with a task she deems “Mission: Impossible”. Apparently, Kageyama is disastrous when it comes to organization, so she’s taking the opportunity of him being bedridden to organize his office and the rest of the house. You don’t bat an eye when you and Miwa categorize what she refers to as the “weapons closet” or even when you come across files of all the hits that Kageyama has ever put out. The only thing that even makes you pause is when you come across Kageyama’s secret stash of marijuana.
“Really?” You hold the plastic bag up in one hand, your other hand on your hip. “Blunts?”
Kageyama just groans, sitting up. “If you and Miwa weren’t going through all my shit, you never would’ve found it.”
“Your shit is a mess! When was the last time you organized anything in this house?”
Kageyama brings his hand up, scratching the back of his hand. “Uh, never?”
“I can’t believe you.” You collapse onto the chair next to his bed, tossing the bag to him. “Now where’s the lighter?”
When Kageyama is finally cleared by Kiyoko to go back to work, you think that you won’t be seeing him and Miwa as often. You assume that they’ll be busy with whatever it is they do normally, so it comes as a surprise when you see Kageyama waiting for you after your last class. 
He’s leaning on a black McLaren Artura, turned away from you as he talks on the phone. You stop on the steps of your lab building, pausing to look at him while he’s not paying attention. After seeing him in sweats and t-shirts with messy hair for weeks while he recovered, it shocks you to see him in formal attire again. The late fall chill embraces you as you survey the black jeans and dark jacket, the wind-whipped hair and gold chain peeking out from beneath his collar. It’s times like these when your breath fully leaves you at how attractive Kageyama is. He’s receiving many stares, whether it’s from the boys checking out his car or the girls checking out him. He remains oblivious as always, talking pointedly into the phone until he spots you. 
He hangs up and opens the Artura’s door for you when you approach. You can feel the whispers surrounding you, but you ignore them in favor of sticking your chilling fingers in front of the car’s heat vent. Kageyama starts the car and peels out of the parking lot.
“I’m surprised to see you today. I thought you would’ve been busy on your first day back.”
He shrugs, giving a noncommittal hum. “It was mostly boring shit, meetings and such. I was completely over it by noon, so Miwa took over the last few for me.”
“You’re done already?” It’s only four in the afternoon, and you know he normally works much, much later than that.
“Done for now. I’ll go into the club later tonight to check on a few things, but that’s at least interesting.”
“Hm.” Looking out the window, you notice that you’re not heading towards the penthouse. “Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you out.”
You choke on air; as someone with Kageyama’s career, this could mean one of two things. “O-on a date?”
“Yeah,” he glances at you, “what else would that mean?”
“You don’t want to know what I was thinking.”
“Damn, y/n, I’m not going to kill you.” The wry smile on his face warns you of his upcoming words. “That would get blood on my seats.”
“Haha.” You roll your eyes and punch him lightly on the shoulder. “But really, you’re taking me out on a date? You didn’t even ask.”
“Well it’s more of a ‘thank you for nursing me back from the dead and helping Miwa’ date, but it can also be a real date, if you want that.”
The slight nervousness in his voice makes you grin. Only Kageyama could shoot someone in cold blood and be afraid to ask a girl out. “Okay.”
You watch as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile on his face. “Okay?”
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taglist: @lilith412426​ @itoshibaby​ @wallywaffle​ 
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all-might-can-smash-me · a year ago
Keigo Takami/Hawks x Reader
Summary: You meet Hawks one day at your store and you and him strike of a friendship that turns romantic....but the paparazzi manage to get it to the rest of the world not even 24 hours later
This shit is long, sorry not sorry
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Crushes were just....well.... crushes, right? Especially celebrity crushes or crushes on fictional characters. Usually the average person will develop one or more crushes on celebrity or fictional beings, it was just the way the human brain (or something like the human brain for some people) worked. You yourself grew up with many celebrity and fictional crushes. The walls of your childhood room were (and probably still filled) with the posters of the heroes you adored growing up, the bands, singers, and artist you admired, and personal favorite characters from the shows or movies you’ve had seen and fell in love within the span of your teenage lifetime. Even now you admired celebrities and the such, but now it was mostly just giving them a like and follow on their tiktok or Instagram or admiring a picture or two when you came upon it, that’s it. Being an adult now and owning your own little grocery store, inherited from your parents of course, in the middle of the busy life of the city was enough to squelch your once childish habits, but sometimes you would allow yourself to flip through the gossip magazines you had set up to see the new and old faces of celebrities and heroes to see which one was hot or not, but that really wasn’t weird for such a mundane person to do.
All that crushing business would stay in the fantasy portion of your brain however, to never once think that you would have one of the fantasies you would once dream about as a teenager about a celebrity or fictional crush sweeping you away on your feet. Just thinking that something like that could happen was laughable really, it almost made you laugh now as you perused the magazine rack you had finally finished setting up, the hours of the day now almost bordering the parent’s definition of ‘its getting late’, which honestly meant that it was 7:30, as your employee hummed behind the cash register, fiddling with the pens and note pads scattered about at the counter.
“Hey, toss me one of those magazines.” Called out the cashier, you handing over the magazine, watching their hands drag towards them to let their eyes scan the bold headings on the front page and soon the face that was the eye catcher of it all. “Pro Hero Hawks is always on the front of the magazines....isn’t he so dreamy looking...” hummed out the younger girl, you only gave a snort as your hand went back to fidgeting the flimsy magazines and puzzle books that seemed only the elderly would purchase.
“Yeah, he’s handsome alright, but I don’t get my hopes up about that fantasy coming true.” You joked, the girl only giving a sad nod in agreement. With a laugh, you bent over to pick up the empty box that once held the new issues of magazines, starting to unfold it from its shape.
“Yeah I know, but still, just imagine it though....what if he just came sauntering in here now? To sweep one of us off our feet?” She said with her young, dreamy little look. You only rolled your eyes, shoving the unfolded ripped up box in the recycling bin, grabbing the magazine and giving a gentle and playful wack to the young girl’s head before placing it back on the rack.
“Yeah? Well the day that happens is the day I’ll believe anything to be possible.” You spoke with a laugh as you leaned against the counter, though the bell hanging upon the glass door gave off its soft chime to signify a new patron had entered your humble grocery store. You head automatically moved to see who had just walked in out of habit, but you probably should have already known who had entered inside your shop just by the look upon the cashier’s face. Hawks stood there at the entrance, those eyes of his glancing back and forth between you and the cashier. The shock was probably evident upon your faces.
“Um....is this like a bad time or something?” He soon questioned which you quickly shook your head at his word, finally snapping yourself out of your dumbfounded haze. Honestly there was no reason to be so shocked over another person, he was just a normal human being that was idolized who just happened to do amazing things for the safety of the society you lived in, but the coincidence of your previous conversation set your body in a rage of jitters.
“No! Not at all! Sorry if we seemed shocked, we don’t usually get sidekicks in here let alone heroes.” You spoke out with a laugh, hand sliding over the counter to give the young girl a little nudge on her shoulder to snap her out of her daze of the handsome hero before her. At that a bright blush crawled onto her face as she set her gaze down to the plastic keys of the cashier.
“Alright...cool...” he said with a shrug of his shoulders, already beginning to make his slow walk to the many things you had on display. The chips, candy, drinks, the instant ramen, the food that sat in the freezer ready to be eaten right away for the late night student or the person craving a bite or to be heated in the microwave station with running water off to the side next to the few tables you had for them to sit down and rest while they ate. The silence almost seemed to suffocate you as you listened to his shuffling and tried not to really stare. Though he seemed to hesitate a bit before finally turning around in his path, making his way up to the counter where you and the cashier still stood at.
“Sorry to bother you, but do you have any chicken ramen? Or anything that just has chicken in it or something?” He asked, hands pushing up the glasses that sat over his eyes and up upon his head. You looked to your cashier, expecting her to speak up, but that embarrassed look upon her face spoke volumes to you as you looked back to Hawks, that costumer service smile already plastered upon your face as you waved him to follow.
“Of course! I really need to take the time to organize all those products, costumers and tourist come in and always swap everything around.” You spoke up, leading him down the isles of your small store expertly before moving to the coolers of food that was ready to go/heated and the ramen. “This is our chicken selection in ramen, after you pay you can either leave and fix it at home or use our water and microwave station to eat here...then in the coolers we have onigiri with chicken....um....we carry egg and chicken Sandos...the information on how it should be consumed is on the label, so make sure your careful about reading and following the directions....” you muttered out as you pointed to all the things, which he nodded his head.
“Sorry if that question was dumb...it’s been a long day.” He said as he scratched the back of his neck. He had to admit, he felt kind of stupid asking that question now with now knowing the fact everything was honestly right in front of his face.
“We all have those days, I hope you can find something you like though, if there’s anything else I’ll be upfront.” You said as you were already heading back up to the front counter, casting a ‘pull yourself together women!’ look to your employee who only mouthed out an apology as she facepalmed and cringed at her own behavior. Hawks was soon rummaging through the ramen, arms soon filled with containers and a lonesome cup ramen, walking up to the counter to gently let everything slip onto the surface.
“Hold on, I got one more thing.” He muttered out as he stepped up to the magazine rack, shamelessly grabbing the one that had his face smack dab in the middle, tossing it onto the counter. “I swear, that’s it.” He joked, but that joke received radio silence from the cashier as her hands shakily went to begin ringing up his things. You couldn’t help but cringe for her, you didn’t blame her either, if it were you a few years ago behind that counter it would have been the same scenario.
“You want it bagged?” You asked, hand already grabbing one of the paper bags you had off to the side, ready to be used, though he only brought up a hand to politely halt your actions.
“Nah, I’ll eat here, enjoy the scenery.” He said with a little wink, already handed over the money, of course he said to not worry about the change as he scooped up everything back into his arms, whistling away to the eating area, beginning to already prepare his food, phone lazily in his hand as he did so.
“Are you ok? It seemed like you were about to drop dead any moment.” You whispered out as you leaned over the counter to your employee, she only shoving her face in her hands.
“Oh don’t even bring it up! He’s not even gone yet...” she whispered back, grabbing the paper bag that was still within your hands, placing it back, though she seemed hesitant to say something. “Could you....get his autograph for me?” She soon whispered out.
“What?!” You whispered back, casting a quick glance over your shoulder and to the hero who now lounged back at the seating area, magazine now clutched within one hand, the other feeding himself. “I don’t want to bother him, I-“ though your whispers were cut off by her own.
“Come on! Please? I’m a mess and when am I ever going to get it again?” She said, hands clasped before her as she begged to you with her whispers. You stood there, only being able to stare at her before finally nodding your head vigorously.
“Fine...fine...gimme a pen and paper...” you muttered out lowly, the girl quietly brought up a fist to the air lowly to show her victory before she scrambled around, hand clutching onto a pen, though her eyes landed on the magazines, which she gestured for you to grab one, which you did, placing it before her as she skillfully brought a pair of scissors to the cover, cutting out the front cover neatly of Hawks’ face, handing it to you along with the pen.
“Take the magazine out my pay check and I’ll owe you one too, thank you so much.” She whispered out, you only taking the pen and picture with the feeling of embarrassment already eating away at your stomach. Though you began to walk towards the eating area, almost painfully slow, trying to prolong the encounter with the hero you knew was going to be probably awkward.
“Hey...um...can I get your autograph?” You asked, handing over the pen and paper to him. You tried to seem nonchalant about it, but the minute shake in your hands almost blew your cover as he looked up from the gossip columns he was reading, swallowing the food that was in his mouth.
“Yeah, sure!” He said, that same charming smile that graced the covers of every magazine now plastered upon his face and it honestly has you in a trance. You didn’t even notice he took the pen and paper from your hands if it weren’t for the soft brush of his fingers against yours that sent your body into a mess of tingles from the sensation. “What’s you name sweetheart? I bet it’s something that sounds pretty, you know, to match you.” He said with a smirk, pen already scribbling down his signature.
“What?” You dumbly said, though a soft blush had risen to your cheeks as you shook your head. “Sorry, the autograph isn’t for me, it’s for my employee.” You cleared up, leaning up against the table that was adjacent to the one he sat in.
“Oh, gotcha.” He said as he capped the pen, soon handing it back to you along with the autograph of the improvised photo. He had to admit, he was kind of disappointed that it didn’t seem like you were his fan. “Whose signature would you like anyway? I could probably get it for you though, to even the score between you and your employee over there.” He said, looking past you and raising his hand to give a teasingly flirtatious wave to her, amused to see the young girl turn into a blushing mess as she hid behind her hair.
“Well you know, I like All Might, who doesn’t, you, Endeavor, you know, the ones I see most often on those magazines.” You said as you motioned to the magazine that was now left open and off to the side of where he had stopped reading. “But maybe if I was younger I would have died and resurrected to get any of those autographs. Now? I got more important things to worry about.” You said with a little laugh as you motioned to the establishment around you.
“An independent business gal? Hm, I like it.” He said with another one of those borderline flirtatious smirks, leaving your insides a frenzy upon a single glance, but only if you knew those soft chimes of your voice were seemingly tugging at his own heart gently. “I’ll be sure to keep supporting the business then.” He said as he soon stood up, almost looming over you for a second before he had moved to toss away his trash in it’s respected trash can, the magazine now tucked under his arm, wings ruffling a bit as he made his way to that glass door smudged with the many fingerprints off that day’s patrons “Catch ya on the flip side!” He said with a laugh before casting another amusing wink to the cashier, the door shutting with another chime, living the store in a silence until it was filled with your employer’s squeals.
“He winked at me! He smirked at me! He smiled at me!!! But did you even hear what he told you!” She gushed out as you were now back up to the front, handing her the autograph, pen set back aside. “He was totally making googly eyes at you and flirting with you!” She said as she hugged the autograph close to her chest, though stopped soon to smooth out the paper.
You only brushed it off as just her fantasies gone haywire within her head, but only if you could tell the future. He had become a regular costumer. He’d saunter in right at the same time ever night, get the same things every time. It came to the point where you or the cashier working would gather everything right before he would enter, which it always seemed to brighten his face up when everything would already be waiting for him to pay at the counter. Then he would chat up a storm with you. About what? Anything! Your favorite color? He wanted to know what it was and why. Favorite food? How was your day? He always kept a conversation going with you, always managed to squeeze out a blush and get you to laugh that laugh that was contagious, at least it was for himself. It was all like a really strange dream that you couldn’t wake up from, because who would have ever thought that this is how you spent some of the hours of your day doing?
“Hawks? What is that?” You questioned as you were stocking the magazines for your usual late hour routine, watching him carry in a box carefully through the door way, setting it gently down on the sales counter.
“Come on, look.” He said, you placing the stack of magazines that were once balanced in your arms back in the box at your feet, now free to move beside him, eyes trained on him and soon to the box. “Well go on, it’s not gonna bite you....I hope.” He teased, you only giving a roll of your eyes as you pushed back the flaps, eyes soon peering in.
“What?!” You exclaimed as you soon reached in, pulling out the contents of the box carefully. It seemed like it was never ending with framed pictures of almost every pro hero worth mentioning in Japan. “What in the world? Why-?” Though he only gave a smug smile as he coolly leaned his back up against the counter.
“Oh you know....to hang them up somewhere around here, give a little spice you know.” He said with a shrug of his shoulders. “People will come in and see them, then they’ll tell others that this is probably getting a lot of attention from the pros so then it will get others to come and blah blah blah...” he said, crossing his arms before casting a glance down at you as you admired the many signatures before you. “Plus I had some free time to bother them all for their autographs and I just really wanted you to one up this little gal here.” He said, motioning to the girl at the cash register who had become all too familiar now with pro hero now thanks to seeing him every night, but that didn’t stop her from still almost dying of embarrassment.
You only responded to his words with an embrace, arms thrown around his neck as you let out your amused giggles at his explanation, that grin upon your face all the validation he needed to answer whether or not you liked it.
“Thank you, Hawks, that was thoughtful of you....even if your attentions were only to be competitive.” You mumbled out, feel the soft rumble of your voice against his chest as he returned the hug back. The contact with you was satisfying, but you pulled away even if he honestly could just have spent an eternity like that.
He was right though, once those bad boys were up on display, your business got more traction. Tourist would come, fans would come to admire the neatly framed autographs and munch away at the eating area and geek away and other heroes had begun to visit your humble store as well. Your store hours had soon turned into 24/7, the place becoming a hot spot for heroes and sidekicks in the area during their patrol hours. People like Fatgum would come during the day for a quick fix and Eraserhead, who had also become a regular costumer in the late night patrols, would come to get a pick me up for the rest of his late patrols. Heck, you now even had superhero merchandise now on that you could barely keep stocked!
“Hawks! You missed it! Endeavor was in here! The Endeavor!” Called out the cashier as Hawks had stepped through the door, seeming to forget the painful embarrassment she would usually feel with interacting with him.
“Endeavor? Really? I’m actually even shocked at that.” He said with a grin as he leaned against the counter, a hand reaching up to absentmindedly twist the messy strands of his hair, wings giving a quick stretch before folding themselves back, one of his feathers placing the money for his usual purchase down on the counter as his free hand slid all of the food he would buy toward himself.
“Yeah, he’s scarier in person.” You called out with a laugh as you appeared from the storage room, a hand reaching up to push back the frizzy strands of hair that had escaped from your hairdo. “But yes, he did stop by to buy one of those cheap jumbo sized bottled water.” You recalled as you soon stood beside him, hands on your hips as you looked quizzically out to your store, trying to see if you missed anything. Hawks took that moment to look over to you, eyes adoring the scrunch of your eyebrows that formed when you were stressful thinking about something.
“Hey, you know, I did get that pretty name from you, but how about a number....and possibly a date?” He soon spoke, fingertips tapping against the counter top, you snapping out of your train of thought to look at him, eyebrows raised.
“Excuse me?” You asked, a little lost for words at his own that he spoke out. He seemed to not be affected though as he now stood up straight, a hand still rested on the counter’s surface.
“I’m asking you out on a date and I also want you number.” He bluntly said with his phone already in his hands with a smirk as he watched in amusement to see you physically try and let yourself process what he had just said. You were honestly trying to make sure your brain wasn’t really just playing a lucid fantasy before your eyes. Though finally you grabbed his phone, thumbs tapping down your number before handing it back to him.
“Great, I’ll pick you up at what, 7:30 tomorrow? Dress nice, I’ll get your address later.” He said as he was already backing out of the store, food forgotten on the counter, leaving you a numbed mess of nerves, your cashier in a frenzy at what she had just witnessed. He was true to his word too, he got your address from you and he showed up to the front door of your apartment with a knocked right on time the next day, handsome in his smart clothes, it was strange to see him out of his hero costume, a pair of shades over his eyes.
“Hey, you think these glasses are a good disguise?” He asked with a grin as he reached a hand up to straighten them out as you opened the door, though you only snorted as you leaned against the door frame.
“I would say so....if it weren’t for those.” You said as you motioned to his wings, which he only let out a laugh as he watched you slip on your shoes and retrieve you purse.
“Shit, you’re right, but first let me just say that you simply take my breath away.” He said as he admired you, you only rolling eyes as you nudged forward into order to step out into the hall to close and lock your door. The date, was nice, a little more intimate than the conversations you had at your business, but still, they felt like they could go on for hours and hours. It was those kinds of conversations that just made you feel...complete? It was the type of conversation that by the end would make your throat and mouth dry, but in a good way from all the talking and laughing that would be exchange. It was the type of conversation that made you feel energetic and your face hurt from the bashful smiles and grins he would grow upon your lips. They would have went for hours and hours if it weren’t for the servers starting to get antsy about the need for the two of you to leave in a timely manner for the next reservation. The car ride home was quiet between the two of you with only ambiance from the rain that had begun to fall, the fellow traveling cars, and the soft low music that purred from his radio. Though there didn’t need to be any conversations to be spoken as his hand rested upon your thigh over the dress you wore, your pinky hooked with his. That was all the conversation you needed as he helped you out of the vehicle, the two of you making your way quickly through the downpour of rain and inside of the apartment complex and up to your floor where you soon stood before him at your door, your fingers gently hooked to his as you looked up to him.
“I...enjoyed tonight.” You soon spoke up, letting go of his hand to reach your own hand up to push back the pieces of your hair that managed to get soaked and stick to the side of your face. Another bit of silence lifted as all Hawks felt he could do was just be mesmerized by you before him. Those lips came upon yours finally, the both of you caught in a passionate kiss that you enjoyed every second of until he pulled away.
“Open that door...” he softly spoke out, nodding his head to the locked door that stood beside the two of you. The jingle of your keys was a melody that sent goosebumps up his arms and jitters to his hands that rested upon your hips as he listened to the keys slide into the lock and jiggle around before that damned door was open.
“Keigo Takami....that is who I am...” he softly spoke out behind the privacy of the closed door and also against the smooth skin of your face that he was currently peppering many soft and gentle kisses upon.
The next morning you were the first to awake, stretching as you sat up at the side of the bed, eyes staring to the early hours of morning beyond the window. The confirmation of last night snoring beside you, wings jutting out in awkward angles, feathers ruffled from sleep. You let a soft smile crawl onto your lips as a hand reached to gently smooth over his hair before getting up, getting dressed, and leaving the apartment with a single note behind.
“Gone to work....lock door when you leave, key is at front door...” he groggily mumbled out as he scratched his head, fingertips gently holding up the sticky note that was stuck to the reflective surface of the fridge. He only shrugged his shoulders as he rummaged through the pantries, finally accumulating cereal, a bowl and spoon, and milk, soon getting his fixing and placing everything away, now lazily lounging on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand as he turned on the tv to munch away at his breakfast.
“Now that the weather and national news is out the way, we have some pretty hot topics on our top heroes!” Chipped out the upbeat women on the tv screen, which Keigo only rolled his eyes at.
“Hot you say? Yeah sure, bring it on sister...” he muttered out as he only continued to shovel the cereal into his mouth as he continued to listen, that bored look etched onto his face.
“Now today we are faced with the conundrum of if our beloved Hawks has found love or turned player.” Came out the voice again, though Keigo only froze, gulping down the cereal that was in his mouth.
“What?!” He shouted, now at the edge of his seat as he glared down to the tv screen through his groggy eyes.
“Our team managed to capture pictures of Hawks and this mystery woman and from what eye witness say, he and the mystery woman entered the apartment after their date at....” though the words were drowned out by the blaring of his phone ringing, which he was quick to answer it.
“Shit....yeah I know.....damage control, what? No, I’m not just screwing around with her!” he shouted into the phone as he shoveled the rest of the cereal into his mouth, placing the bowl in the sink before beginning to pace around your kitchen.
“Hey! The new issues of magazines came in early!” Called out the morning hour worker as you stepped in, raising a brow as you stepped up to the delivery that was already waiting for you at the rack of magazines.
“Really? That’s odd...” you mumbled out as you bent down, starting to rip off the tape and pull back the flaps, reaching a hand in to grab one of the magazines to pull it out, eyes looking to the bold headlines on the cover.
‘Hawks Turned lover? Or player?’
Your hands viciously opened up the magazine, flipping to the page that the story was advertised to be on, your jaw dropping upon seeing the paparazzi photos of you and Keigo of him picking you up, of the two of you on your date , and the kiss shared between the two of you and of him entering your apartment. It was like your body was frozen as you stared down to the photos in front of you, your life now on blast to the whole world.
“Shit..” you finally managed out as as you roughly closed the magazine, shoving it back into the box, your employee staring at you with a raised eyebrow.
“What’s wrong with them?” They asked, watching you lift the box up from the ground, maneuvering behind the counter to set them behind it, pushing the box far under.
“Just...don’t touch them, I’m not putting those on display.” You spoke out nervously, standing up and wiping off the sweat that had begun to accumulate on the palms of your hands, though the gasp of your employee caught your attention as they looked down at their phone.
“Pictures have just surfaced of Hawks chilling around almost butt ass naked in some mystery girl’s apartment.” He spoke out, flipping the phone to your wide eyes. Sure enough, there he was, bowl of cereal within his hands as he sat on your couch in his boxers through the windows of your apartment. “Hell yeah, Hawks got himself a lady friend.” The morning’s cashier joked, but no laughter was going to be heard from you as you were quick to make an excuse to leave the store.
“I don’t care how it’s done! I just need a statement saying that the woman is my fucking girlfriend and that legal actions will be taken because geez, I don’t know, they showed off where she lived to everyone who doesn’t live under a rock in Japan!” He said as he leaned his elbows against the counter top in your kitchen, hand burying itself in his bed hair, fingers tugging and pulling at tangles that would try to trap around his fingers. The front door of the apartment opening caught his attention as he looked to see you standing there rigidly, door quickly closed behind you as you stared at him.
“I don’t know what those people were thinking, they doxxed the shit out of her, yes we are gonna have to move her....yeah..” he spoke into the phone, you finally removing your shoes and calmly seating yourself at the kitchen counter, looking to the feathers on his wings that were still ruffled from sleep. Finally he hung up, phone placed on the counter top, a silence falling between the two of you before he spoke up. “That was quite the scare....you sure you still wanna be with me?” He said jokingly as he rubbed his face, already feeling his insides cringing from the embarrassment that seemingly felt like it was trying to swallow him whole. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh as you shook your head at his words.
“Keigo....lets not ask stupid questions....”
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bonny-kookoo · a year ago
Lavender Love (JJK x Reader) 💐💜🔞
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🦋 Pairing: Florist!Jeon Jungkook x Mute!Reader
🦋 Genre: Florist!AU, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers AU, smut
• Selective mutism : a severe anxiety disorder where a person is unable to speak in certain social situations, such as with classmates at school or to relatives they do not see very often. It usually starts during childhood and, if left untreated, can persist into adulthood.
🦋 Warnings: mentions of past trauma (no mentions of what exactly), anxiety attack, it’s not romanticized in this so it’s no ‘hero in shining armor knows what to do’ kinda thing, mentions of vomiting and overall just a very uncomfortable situation, Jungkook is actually kinda lost, mutual pining, awkward reader, very very VERY soft smut, like Jesus Christ it’s so sweet, mentions of therapy, hopeless romantic kook, he researched so much just so he can help :(, protective Kook!
🦋 Summary: words only hurt people around you, so when you meet this kind florist while picking up your friends order, you swear to yourself to never speak a word to him. He however, seems to have different plans.
(Again, I want to point out that anxiety attacks are a real thing, and hardly ever ‘just pass’. If you’re uncomfortable with these things, please skip this fic as it is a major part of the story. Everyone experiences these things differently, things depicted in this are personal experiences. If you think you have problems like this, please seek professional help. You’re not broken, you maybe just need a little hand to guide you back on track. Stay safe everyone 💕)
This is a oneshot! If you have any asks, Ideas, or drabble requests for this universe, throw them my way!
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You don't remember the last word you spoke to a stranger.
It's probably hidden somewhere, and you'd find it if you really searched for it, however, you didn't really crave to be remembered about what happened afterwards. It didn't matter these days anyways.
You don't remember your school days.
Again, these memories are there, you know it. Yet you've turned them around like a picture hanging on a wall, neatly framing an incident that scarred you to the point of seemingly no return. It didn't matter these days anyways.
You pull your facemask a bit as you waited at the red light, folded paper in your hand, which was hidden in the front pocket of your sweater. People around you didn't really look at you, not caring, and you favored it greatly. You felt your fingers get clammy however, the closer you got to the corner store. Hopefully Miss Jung was there; she knew your mother, and didn't really mention your habit of silence much. Hopefully.
But the closer you got, the more you felt your skin grow cold.
That was not miss Jung.
You desperately wanted to text Yoongi, telling him that you couldn't pick up his order, but he was sick, he needed someone to do it, and you knew you could do it- you had to start somewhere. Your therapist had praised you last month so greatly, telling you how good you were getting at conversing, even if it was just through text or post it notes- it was more than you did a few years ago. But your feet slowed down, hands beginning to shake. You stood against the wall near the entrance, evening out your breathing as you tried to ground yourself again.
You could do this.
Entering the store, familiar bell ringing, you felt a bit more calm as the scent of the various flowers filled your nose. You'd often stayed under the counter when Miss Jung had been working when you were young, her presence calming to you as she didn't care about your 'issues' as others had called it. She always let you make flower crowns and tiny rings, showing you what every one of them meant, uncaring that you never answered her. She always said your smile was enough.
"Hello! How can I help you?" He asked in a friendly manner. His voice was melodic, probably nice to listen to whenever he talked away, making you slightly jealous. Your own was weak, fragile from lack of use. He smiled at you as you hesitantly walked forwards, unfolding the note Yoongi had written and placing it down in front of him, making him pick it up, reading it. "Oh? Lazy gramps can't pick them up himself?" He chuckled, and you wanted to disagree, yet you stopped the thought while it formed. "Ah, I'll get them for you, but are you sure you can carry them all yourself? There's multiple boxes, and eh-" He began, grinning before picking at his skin on his jaw. "-not to be mean but you're kinda short." He said, and your eyes widened. You shook your head, and he leaned his to the side. "No? No what?" He asked, and you began to grow uncomfortable. Your gaze shifted towards the note, pointing towards it, then at yourself, before you nodded. "I eh.." He trailed off, before he smiled encouragingly. "Ah, you're shy? Don't be, I don't bite!" He playfully said, and you could feel the tears prick at the backs of your eyes.
It was unfair really. You wished you could be more open, tell him all you wanted to say, be just as confident as he was being- yet here you were, confusing the guy to no ends just because you couldn't open your mouth. It was pathetic, really, and before you knew you felt the tears gather. You were growing frustrated, hands growing clammy as you tightened them into fists, breathing becoming uneven as you desperately tried to calm yourself. "Ah- you're okay? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-" He tried, hand on your shoulder not helping one bit. He was now confused, maybe even scared, and it was your fault. Why were you being so difficult? Why couldn't you just tell him like every other normal person could? Oh yeah, because you weren't. You were absolutely fucked up, useless for society, not even able to work a proper job-
"Y/N?" The voice sounded dull, as if someone held their hands over your ears, the rushing of your own blood drowning out everything else as your hands and feet became rigid, frozen in place by the overflow of oxygen. "Jungkook dear, please give her space- Y/N sweetheart, can you hear me?" You knew she was talking, but her voice wasn't reaching you at all as the tears fell, sobs wrenching your gut to the point of feeling sick. "Oh sweetheart, come on, quick-" She hurried, unnoticed by you helping your locked body outside through the backdoor with Jungkooks help, who had a worried look on his face as he watched the scene unfold. "Jungkook dear, can you get me a bucket real quick?" He nodded, dashing off to clumsily get a small water bucket, cursing as he knocks down several others, glad that there wasn't another costumer. He got back just in time for Miss Jung to manage to hold the purple plastic container underneath your face as your body shook, bringing back up whatever you'd eaten in its absolute frenzy. "Shh, its okay.." She hummed, before addressing the boy again. "Can you cut some lavender please? A branch should be enough." She asked, as he nodded again, eyes barely leaving your figure. Was that his fault? What did he do wrong? "Jungkook." Miss Jung said to knock him back to reality, as he nodded, walking towards the several flowers as he took out the gardening scissors from his apron, cutting two small branches instead of one for good measure.
When he walked back outside the backdoor, you'd already laid on your side, Miss Jung carefully running her hand over your back as you seemed to still have issues breathing properly, sobs still present as you choked on air. He wordlessly gave his boss what she'd asked for, as he watched her rub the flowers between her hands, the scent filling your nose slowly. It helped after a moment, slowly calming your senses back down, exchanging your now returning sense of hearing and vision with a raging headache. "I'm so sorry I-" He began, but miss Jung sent him a look, shaking her head. She'd just managed to bring you back, she didn't need to throw you back into the circle again.
"Jungkook, can you go help the costumers please?" She asked as she heard the bell, and he hesitantly nodded, before returning.
Well, this ended well.
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The next day, Yoongi had you by his side as he stepped inside the flower shop. "Hel- Ah! You!" Jungkook exclaimed, making you shrink in on yourself, readying yourself for whatever he had to say. Yoongi however, voice raspy from his cold, cut him off.
"Yah you idiot, can you ever just do what you're told?" He exclaimed, as Jungkook scratched the back of his neck, fluffy hair falling a bit to the side from the movement. "You got my shit?" He asked, and you gently pulled at his sleeve, a sign that he should at least stop cursing. "Sorry." He mumbled down to you as Jungkook watched the silent exchange with interest. Yoongi coughed, snapping the younger boy back to his senses as he walked to the back, coming back with two boxes. "Thanks." Yoongi simply answered, holding both boxes even though he could see the question in your eyes. You both got ready to leave, as Jungkook stopped you.
"Wait!" He said, rummaging around underneath the counter before he pulled out a tiny envelope, wrapped with a purple ribbon, holding it out to you. "As uhm.. a sorry. For yesterday. I didn't know." He offered, and you took it, nodding. So now he knew. Great. He simply waved, as Yoongi bumped you with his elbow, signaling you to go.
In the car, the older boy suddenly sniffed. "Did he pack the wrong flowers or why does it smell so much like lavender?" He asked, and you shrugged, before remembering the gift. Opening the ribbon, you found a small sheer bag, dried seeds of lavender inside, as well as a note.
'Miss Jung said, writing is easier. So if I didn't screw up yesterday, text me? :) '
"That fucker!" Yoongi laughed before coughing again, making you smile a bit. What exactly was that supposed to mean?
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It meant exactly what he said. He genuinely started to reach out to you after you'd texted him your number, sending you random pictures of bouquets he did during the day, of scenery he encountered on his way to or off work, memes, or simply asking you how your day was. He slowly found out more and more about you, never really asking why you didn't speak- because the more he began to unravel your personality, the less he cared about that. He found out that you liked sports, you played in a soccer team, and worked as an online tech support from home. He thought of it as absolutely the coolest thing ever, even asking to see a game of yours if you'd let him.
Which had led to this moment.
Jungkook was sitting down, several girls side-eyeing him as they wondered why he was there. His dark attire and several piercings, as well as the ink painting his arm that he'd exposed due to the heat as he'd rolled up the sleeves of his sweater completely covering up the fact that he actually worked with delicate things such as tiny flowers, able to make the best flower crowns of all time. He denied their request to sit with them, texting you instead that he was there, and where he sat. He watched as you read his message before looking up, finding him as he grinned, waving. You meekly waved back, shy smile on your lips as he heard the whispers from his side. He gave them a look to shut them up, before leaning forward, eager to see you in action.
He was mesmerized as he saw you run, every step you took seemingly perfectly timed and placed. You were the shortest one out of your team, but that did not put you at a disadvantage at all it seemed; you ducked under another player trying to push you almost expertly, making him jump up and push his fist into the air in victory as you scored.
When you were done with your game, he'd already walked down the stairs, meeting you as you smiled at his figure, a bit taken aback by his choice of clothing. He always made sure to cover up his tattoos in the flowershop, Miss Jung not too fond of him scaring away costumers who had a more traditional view on things. He held up his hand before lowering it a bit for you to properly hit it in a high five, internally beaming at the fact that you'd slowly grown more comfortable with him. He carried your bag for you, shaking away his stray strands of hair that had fallen into his face from the slight wind. "Ah, here." He remembered, giving you your facemask back, remembering that you always liked to wear it so people thought you were maybe sick and just didn't talk because of that. But after months with him; you didn't need it anymore. So you simply took it from him, putting it into your pocket. His eyes widened a bit but he smiled afterwards, actually growing a bit shy.
And he almost tripped over his own feet as he felt your tiny hand grab his to hold.
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"Oh Y/N! Jungkook is already changing. He said you're both going on a date?" Miss Jung winked at you, making you look down shyly, fingers pulling at the hem of your skirt a bit as you nodded. He'd asked you out a few days ago, immediately replying that you could also just stay at his or your place, and that you didn't have to go out. You'd thanked him for it, and you both decided to simply get a shit ton of junk food to take home to his place, planning on watching a short movie and maybe playing some video games after. "I'm happy. He's a good guy, but don't tell him I said that, his ego is too inflated already, that poor boy!" She hummed, as Jungkook whined from behind her.
"Yah, my ego isn't inflated at all, what are you saying?!" He said while pouting, making you chuckle a but under your breath. He smiled, walking up to you as he waved at miss Jung. "Thanks for closing the shop, we'll be on our way then!" He exclaimed, and she just nodded, smile genuine on her lips.
"So!" He said, stretching his arms above his head before he took your hand, walking across the street with you as he led you both to a fast food place close by. "I thought about The Cat Returns tonight?" He asked, and you nodded, happy with his choice. Against the stigma floating around him judged by his attire and collections of tattoos and piercings, Jungkook was actually a huge fan of Studio Ghibli and everything romantic. He was a bit cheesy, but you'd grown to appreciate it- maybe even love it. The more you both conversed and spend time together, the closer you felt yourself getting with him- without forcing yourself to. It just came natural with him, the hand holding not making you feel weird or as if people were staring, his jacket around your shoulders never feeling heavy. Being close to him was comforting, hearing his voice was soothing, being with him was.. like your personal stack of lavender, always ready to calm your nerves.
So when you were walking to his place, apartment still a bit foreign to you since you'd only visited him a handful of times, you didn't feel any pressure. You simply took off your shoes, immediately greeting his two pet rabbits in his living room, crouching down to pet them. "I feel like you only love me for my pets." He explained playfully scandalized, making you grin as you continued to run your hand over the soft fur.
"Alright!" He'd exclaimed as everything was set on the table, his arms on the back of his couch. "Will you stay with them or actually sit down with me? I'm getting lonely." He whined, and you rolled your eyes before you skipped to the couch, stumbling a bit as he chuckled, catching you as you almost fell onto his lap. "Easy there tiger, and here I thought you wanted to take things slow." He laughed, voice low as he turned on the movie, very aware of the blush coating your cheeks.
It started to cover his own soon as well however, as you slowly but surely started to cuddle up to him.
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A kiss was what started it. One, then two, and the third deepened the feeling of want. You thought you'd feel pressured, hesitant, shy, or maybe even scared- but you didn't. This was Jungkook. And Jungkook was your safe place.
"Wait.." He hesitantly said, eyes almost shut in a way as if he was hurt, holding your shoulders as he looked at you. "I- I'm sorry, I don't know what came over myself there.." He chuckled, shifting a bit as he suddenly pulled on his sweater to hide his growing erection. He'd never been ashamed of it in the past, but now, it seemed out of place. It felt as if it made him look like he couldn't wait, as if he was impatient, or taking advantage of the situation. You simply took the receipt of the food, turning it around as you clicked the ballpoint pen on his table, writing.
'It's okay. I want to.'
His eyes widened as he got more serious. "You don't have to. I can totally wait." He said, a gentle smile on his lips as he watched you write another line.
'There's no one I'd rather go this far with.'
His heart began to beat heavier, if that made sense. It felt as if every beat was suddenly more meaningful, louder, more present than ever, as he watched you write.
'I'm yours.'
You gently laid the pen down, now looking at him as he smiled, kissing your lips again deeply as the thunderstorm outside raged on, lightning brightening the room for a second as he couldn't seem to stop kissing you. "Thank you." He hummed, before diving in again. "Thank you." He said again, before made you sit on his lap, straddling him as he chuckled in bliss. "I promise I'll take good care of you." He vowed as you'd closed your eyes, simply giving yourself to him as his hands held you safely. "Now, and forever." He whispered, before he stood up, strong arms underneath your bottom as he carried you out of the living room, into his dark bedroom that only occasionally lit up from the lightning outside. The rain hit the window harshly, yet he didn't seem to hear it at all as he let you fall on the mattress back first, chuckling as he almost fell on top of you, making you giggle.
The sound prominent in his ears as he swore he could've cried.
"You sound so beautiful." He hummed against your neck, his words never wiping the smile off of your face as he moved you to lay down properly, clothes slowly loosing purpose as every item slowly met the floor with a soft thud. He praised every curve, every flaw you saw in yourself as he closed his eyes in pure bliss, no need for visual confirmation to know that you were perfect to him. For the first time in forever you felt free, completely safe and guarded as he moved above you, silent gasps and sighs the only thing present as he stood up for a moment, having to search for a condom before he met you on the bed again, giggling like school kids caught doing mischief as he struggled to open the package, making you laugh at him.
He decided he loved that sound.
If someone was to ask him what he thought your voice sounded like, his first reply would genuinely be that he did not care. It wasn't mandatory in what you both had, he'd learned that over the months and months he'd spent with you. Words surely made communication a bit simpler, but he didn't need them to show you his love and adoration for you. It proved his worth way better than words ever could.
Wrapping the safety over his length he kissed you again, seemingly hooked on the simple gesture as he held himself with one hand, the other one guiding him into you, slowly, as to not make it hurt.
He'd never hurt you.
He didn't rush, there was no need to. This wasn't about reaching a goal, a high, or any end of some sorts. He simply relished in being close to you, in the huge amount of trust you gave him willingly, naturally. He felt honored, as cheesy as it sounded, he felt as if there was no bigger achievement in his life than knowing that you gave yourself into his arms simply because you cherished him just as much as he did you. He held you tightly against him as he slowly moved, pace slow and almost lazy as you slightly squirmed and reached around his shoulders, holding him close as well, both of you existing, nothing more.
Maybe it was the fact that it was you, maybe it was the high of his own happiness in knowing that he held your heart, but he soon felt himself grow sensitive, hand reaching between your bodies to roll your pear between his inked fingers, making you mewl underneath him.
He decided he loved that sound as well.
Your back arched as you came undone underneath him, clenching center helping his own release to happen shortly after. He gasped out, catching his breath as he rested his forehead against yours, suddenly laughing as if he was drunk. And he kind of was; drunk on the realization that this had indeed happened, that he actually was here, holding you, having you all for himself. He slipped out of you after a moment, pulling the condom off of himself as he tied it and threw it into the bin close to his bed, before slipping underneath his blankets, holding you close, sighing in gentle comfort as no words were spoken. Until you moved a bit, lips close to his ear, as you whispered.
"I love you."
And he decided, he loved that sound most of them all.
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dxddyrogers · a year ago
shot in the dark | steve rogers
based on this request:
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summary: steve rogers is seduced by an undercover HYDRA agent, leaving him in a desperate situation.
pairing: steve rogers x dark!reader
warnings: drug use, bondage, assault, swearing, rimming, degradation, humiliation, torture, dubcon, noncon.
word count: 2,006
author’s note: when I got this request I was massively excited. It’s always the men who are doing bad things, so I decided to change it up. this is also told in third person. enjoy!
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“Target has been spotted.” She says into her earpiece, biting her lip at the sight of him. He was dressed in a powder blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled to just above his elbows, black slacks perfectly pressed, blond hair slicked back. Enemy or not, he was quite god like in real life. She had only seen pictures of him, studied him down to the slightly crooked bridge of his nose.
She’d be lying if she said that he didn’t turn her on.
“Affirmative, proceed with the mission.” She sips her drink and watches as he chats up some pretty blonde bitch. Her black dress was way too tight as her obvious desire to fuck him was becoming very noticeable. Blondie’s hands kept wandering to the wrong places, her legs starting to open a little wider. She rolled her eyes. Least she knew how to hide her desperation.
Whilst looking through her purse to make sure she had the sedative, the sound of glass hitting the wooden bar top startled her. She jumped and looked up, another glass of Jack sitting in front of her with an ice sphere and straw in the glass. Exactly how she liked it.
“I didn’t order this…” She started.
“The gentleman at the end of the bar did for you.” The bartender finished for her. She looks over and sees him, smirking and raising his glass to her. She smiles back and does the same, sipping the Jack through the straw, silently inviting him over with her eyes.
There was just something about the pretty dame at the opposite end of the bar that reeled Steve in. She had a classic, vintage beauty to her. An aura of class that he didn’t see in most women nowadays. Confident, self-assured, and to put it bluntly, fucking gorgeous. Her red halter neck dress clung perfectly to her hips, hair effortlessly falling in loose curls around her face. She gave him a red lipped smirk as he started to walk over, accepting her invitation.
They stared at each other for a bit, each taking in the other’s features.
“You know, sending a drink is the most cliché thing you can do.” She begins, voice like honey. Smooth and sweet. “I’d prefer my men come over and introduce themselves.”
Steve sat down in the seat next to hers. “Well what do you think I’m doing right now?”
“Introducing yourself, after buying me a drink.” She quips.
“I have to break the ice somehow.” Steve retorts.
“You could have found other ways.” She quirked a brow.
“Fine. I guess you’re right. I’m Steve, by the way.” He stuck out his hand. She accepted his gesture and told him her name.
They went on for about another hour, just talking. She gave some bullshit cover story about how she was in town on business as a freelance writer and was checking out the city. Though she had to admit, every time Steve laughed or smiled at her with a genuine sincerity, her conscience panged in her chest. God she was going to possibly hate herself for what she was about to do to him.
“Why don’t we order one more round and we can head back to my hotel?” She suggested. Steve gave a nod and ordered two shots of vodka before excusing himself to the restroom.
When the drinks were sat in front of her, she looked around and made sure no one was paying attention, grabbing the vial of sedative from her purse. It was a clear liquid, specially created for this mission. She poured half of it in his glass and stirred it, just as he was coming back.
“You’re back!” She states quite obviously.
Steve chuckles. “I am. Hopefully, you didn’t miss me too much.” He says.
“I did, actually.” She replies. He smiles and picks up his glass of vodka, holding it up for a toast.
“What are we toasting to?” She holds up hers.
“To meeting each other.” She shrugged and clinked her glass with his, knocking it back, watching as Steve unknowingly put a drug into his system.
“Let’s get out of here.” She says seductively.
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She had to hold in a groan at Steve being pressed into her backside as she fumbled with the key card, sighing in relief when the light turned green. She let them both in and Steve was back to attacking her neck, leaving marks in his wake. He groaned as she cupped his hardness through his slacks, slightly worried that the sedative hasn't worked yet.
"Fuck, doll. What are you doing to me?" His speech is slurring slightly.
"What do you mean?" She asks, guiding him to the bed.
"You're so... intoxicating..." He giggles. She laughs along and pushes him down.
"I think you need to sleep, Stevie." She coos to him. He nods and his eyes roll into the back of his head moments later.
That was it. Mission accomplished. 
She waved her hand in his face and made sure he was gone before standing up to grab her phone to call for the removal. Until something caught her attention. 
That something was his pants. Which looked uncomfortably snug. She sat the phone down and let her inhibitions take over as her fingers started undoing his belt and zipper. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut the fabric, leaving him in his boxers.
Her mouth watered as she saw the outline of his dick. She couldn't help herself and took it out of his underwear, marveling at the sight of the uncut skin, protruding veins and angry pink head that his precum dribbled from.
She gave a kitten lick to the head and sat back on her knees, savoring his taste. She looked through her luggage and found her bondage equipment.
When Steve came to, he blinked a few times to clear his vision, the dull ache in his head making him wince at the bright lights. He quickly regained himself when he realized he was restrained.
He looked around, trying to find a way out. His eyes stopped on the dame from the bar, now completely naked, save for a pair of black Louboutins.
"D-doll? What is this?! What kinda freaky shit are you into?" He asked frantically. She simply smirked and walked to the end of the bed, her hands clasped behind her back.
"Captain Steven Grant Rogers. Captain America. God's Righteous Man. The image of perfection. All tied up and helpless. What a sight." She sighed and ran a hand up his thighs, making him flinch. "You know, I've had my eye on you for a while now."
"What are you talking about? What is this?" He pleaded, speech still slightly slurred.
"I'm an agent for HYDRA, sugar. I was sent in to seduce you and capture you and turn you back over to my fellow agents, but... I think I want to keep you for myself." She explained.
"You fucking cunt." Steve swears at her, earning himself a heel straight on his balls. He screams out in agony.
"Wanna try that again? I've been nice to you."
"What? You're gonna use me like your toy?" She nods and bites her lip.
"And if you try anything, your punishment will be way worse than an expensive shoe to your balls." She threatens. He shuts his mouth as he lets her have her way.
"You're such a big, dumb boy. You're so used to having control in every situation. Tell me, Stevie. Do you feel helpless? Do you not like having control?" She purrs, stroking his dick. He groans quietly.
Soon, a jolt goes through Steve's neck, causing him to scream.
"What the fuck was that!" He cries out.
"HYDRA tech. It's an electric device I attached to your neck to make you behave. Now I asked you a question." She says nonchalantly, choking him in her hand.
"Yes! I feel helpless and I don't like not being in control!" He answers, not wanting to feel the electricity in his neck again.
"What a good, dumb boy." She breathes out and goes back to stroking him painfully slow. He grinds his hips, trying to get some friction. She stops and walks over to him, grabbing his jaw tightly.
"Look at you," she gasps. "You're acting like such a desperate little whore. You need something, sweetheart? Huh? Tell me." Without thinking, Steve spits at her. She moves out of the way in time. The room gets deathly quiet as she closes her eyes and grips on her device tightly.
Taking a deep breath, she slaps the shit out of him as hard as she possibly can, hurting her own hand in the process.
Steve yelped as her hand connected wildly with his face, turning his head to the side. The red handprint was starting to show on his fair skin.
"You fucking disgusting lowlife!" She screams at him. "Spitting on me?! Really!"
"Fuck you!" He yells back, defiant. She grabbed her device and amped up the voltage, shocking him again. He screamed again, in complete agony. She turned it off and watched his chest heave as beads of sweat collected on his forehead.
"Now, will you let me finish?" She coos mockingly.
"Y-yes ma'am." He says, accepting his fate.
"Good boy." She returns to her spot at the end of the bed and drops to her knees, taking his dick in her mouth. He tried as hard as he could to fight the oncoming pleasure, but God, she knew how to suck a dick like a porn star.
Steve moaned, internally cursing himself for being such a dumbass. He unintentionally squealed like a pig, however when she ran her tongue across his asshole.
"That's it, Stevie. Let your inhibitions go, you like this." She purrs. He didn't reply. She crawled up his body and forced his head to face her. Angling herself upwards, she sat down on his mouth, effectively riding his face. His tongue expertly explored her pussy, getting that tangy but sorta sweet taste. She couldn't help herself, he was too damn good. She rubbed her clit with her fingers, moaning lewdly.
"Damn, Rogers. You're so good at this." She compliments.
Not wanting to orgasm from just his tongue, she gets off of his face and crawls back down to his cock. Once again angling herself upwards, she slowly sinks down on his meaty flesh, groaning loudly at the feeling of being oh so full.
"Oh, Steve. I'm going to ride this pretty dick and you can't stop me." She purred.
"Doll, please. Don't do this, not like this!" He begs.
"Too late." She starts moving steadily up and down his cock, going slow to savor the feeling at first. Steve shut his eyes, trying to ignore her moans and the feeling of her wet pussy on his cock.
He opened his eyes to see a beautiful vixen, expertly fucking herself. Chasing her own release and desire. Her hair was tossed every which way, breasts bouncing wildly in tune with her fucking herself silly on him.
He'd be damned if he didn't enjoy the sight. And his cock agreed; he felt it twitch inside of her.
"Oh fuck! Steve, I'm so close. I feel you too." She moans out and tries to slow down, drawing out both of their climaxes.
"Doll, please let me out of these cuffs." He begs.
"Why should I?" She asks.
"Because I want to fuck you." Came his blunt response. Pressing the button on the remote to unlock his cuffs, Steve sat up and wrapped his arms around her waist, getting a deep angle.
The room smelled of sweat and sex as she and Steve fucked. He was too good at this, too good.
"Steve, please. I need it, I need to cum!" Now it was her turn to beg.
Thrusting upwards to hit her G-spot, the agent came hard, screaming out obscenities as her orgasm took over. Steve followed soon after her, filling her with his cum.
They collapsed on to the bed and fell asleep, deciding to deal with the consequences later.
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maybedefinitely404 · a year ago
Day 23: Dukeceit
I’m very aware it’s October. But I will get all these prompts done!
Day 23 - At a certain age you switch bodies with your soulmate for 24 hours. (I may have changed this one slightly, too.)  
Content warnings: kidnapping mention, food/coffee mentions, homophobia mentions (though none is really seen), just so much caffeine.
The first thing Janus noticed when he woke up was that this was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Which, to be fair, was an accurate reaction, seeing as he was in the wrong room.
His initial thought was that he’d been kidnapped, but no, that couldn’t be right. It was just another bedroom, not a basement or a van or whatever kidnappers used. It was a regular, teenage looking bedroom, with clothes littering the floor and the desk, large posters haphazardly stuck at every angle on the wall, and a phone charging on the nightstand next to him. So, definitely not a kidnapping. 
When his mind finally cleared from his post-waking haze, he sighed in resignation. Apparently the universe had decided that today was the day he would switch bodies with his soulmate, on the day he had specifically set aside to study for a huge biology test that would make or break his grade in the class. Hopefully the school took pity on him and let him redo it. If they believed him, that is… he wasn’t exactly the most honest student.
Groaning, he threw the blankets off him and stumbled to the full body mirror on the door, inspecting the reflection. His soulmate was cute, he’d give him that, but it did nothing to disperse the internal confusion at seeing someone else looking back at him in the mirror. It also felt super weird to be attracted to… well, himself, at the moment, technically? He pushed a strand of white hair, dyed lighter than the rest of the black locks, out of his face and leaned forward, trying to decipher if the eye color was brown or murky green, when the door flew open and hit him in the face.
He yelped upon hitting the floor, rubbing his forehead, and glaring up at the intruder.
“Who the hell are you?” He hissed before he could stop himself, meeting the eyes of a very confused guy standing in the doorway. Blinking, he looked back into the mirror, and then back to the newcomer, wondering for a second if he was hallucinating. It took him far too long to remember the concept of twins, mentally facepalming as the other spoke.
“What do you mean, who the hell am I? Really, not one of your best pranks, Remus.”
“I’m not pranking you. I’m not Remus.”
The other merely blinked, staring at him blankly, until a look of realization crossed his face. “Oooohh! You’re his-”
“Yeah,” Janus snarked, getting back to his feet, “I am. Who are you?”
“Uhm, I’m Roman. Your- I mean, his brother. Remus’ brother. What’s your name?”
He brushed nonexistent dirt off his pajama top, an old and ripped oversized t-shirt, and responded, “Janus.”
“Janice? Huh,” Roman wrinkled his brow, casting a look behind him before stepping in and closing the door behind him, “I could have sworn Remus was gay.”
“I’m not a girl, you deflated airbag. I’m named after a Roman god, and I am very much male.”
Roman was at a loss for words, watching Janus approach Remus’ closet and look through it scrutinizingly. “He has good taste.”
“That’s what you call good taste?” The brother asked, peering over his shoulder at the chaos of ripped cloth and mesh and leather. He was frankly shocked there was any left in the closet, seeing as there was what appeared to be enough for a whole other wardrobe on the floor.
“I wouldn’t personally wear it. I’m more classy than that. But,” He picked out a weathered jean vest, adorned with pins and spikes, “Hot.”
Roman tried to hide his eye roll. “You’ll get along with him well. I came up to get you- er, Remus, but now you, I guess. For breakfast.”
Right on time, a woman’s voice carried up through the house, calling for them. Janus shrugged and followed Roman out the door, abandoning his discovery on a chair and pulling up the first hoodie from the floor. He didn’t generally like to wear oversized things, so he was surprised that the almost blanket-like garment was so comfortable. 
“Ah, took you long enough. It’s getting cold.” Janus took in the downstairs area, a small kitchen and dining room in one, leading off into a living room. It was all comfortable, the sunshine raging through the picture window on the wall closest to the table, highlighting the steam rising off the food. 
Janus stood at the bottom of the stairs as Roman took his seat opposite his parents, gesturing to the seat next to him.
“Remus, sweetie, everything okay?”
For a solid second, he forgot that he was supposed to be Remus and just stared blankly at the woman who had spoken. 
“That’s not Remus. It’s his soulmate.” Roman said absently around a bite of food.
Their mother’s expression turned to delight, standing up immediately and engulfing Janus in a hug that he didn’t return, “Oh, welcome, darling! It’s so nice to meet you! Join us for breakfast, and you can go about contacting Remus later. Sound good?”
“I guess.” He didn’t seem to have a choice either way as he was ushered to sit next to Roman, his plate pushed a little closer to him by the mom. The dad was just taking him in, chewing slowly, and everything in Janus was yelling at him to look away. But Janus was never one to shy away from a stare off, so he kept eye contact, hoping that Remus had the same glare that his own face did. He must have, since the man finally looked back down to his plate.
“What’s your name, sweetie?” Jeez, did this woman always have to use pet names? 
“Janus.” He responded simply, pulling in his first bite of food. It was good, he’d admit, but his own house never had these kinds of… family get-togethers, and to say he was uncomfortable was an understatement. 
“Janice? Huh, must be weird being in a boy’s body, yeah?” Her face clearly conveyed that it was supposed to be a joke, or maybe some fucked up icebreaker, but he was more annoyed by his name. 
“I’m actually-” He was cut off by a sharp kick to the shin, coughing slightly to stifle a curse, and turned to Roman expectantly. The glare out of the corner of his eyes was something Janus wasn’t anticipating, same with the almost imperceivable shake of his head. The message was clear. Forcing a small smile on his face, he turned back to the parents, who were still wholly focused on him. “Yeah, it’s weird for sure.” 
Usually, lies slipped off his tongue with no hesitation. He had to learn to survive, growing up as he had. But this one felt wrong, and so utterly bizarre, that it seemed to burn the roof of his mouth. If that’s what it took though, and he was very sure that Roman’s cutting him off had been to prevent outing Remus, he could take that.
The rest of the meal was filled with small talk between him and the parents, in which he learned that he wasn’t all too far from his own house, where Remus would be waking up. Even so, he didn’t recognize the neighborhood he was in. It was definitely nicer than from where he lived, though, and he doubted that Remus would know where he was either. Poor guy. 
As soon as it seemed socially accepted to leave the table, he did so, loading his dishes into the washer and dashing upstairs. It was only nine in the morning and he was exhausted, dropping onto the bed and noticing the little glow in the dark dinosaurs on the ceiling for the first time. Rather, the remains of glow in the dark dinosaurs. Remus must have taken scissors to them, separating the heads and attaching them to different bodies. He was specifically entranced by a T-Rex with a Pterodactyl head when Remus’ mother’s words flooded back into his mind, and he remembered that he should probably try to get into contact with Remus. One look at the phone on the nightstand, though, and he was getting up with a groan and padding down the hallway. 
It wasn’t hard to distinguish Roman’s room from the other doors; it was the only one with his headshot taped to the front with a star under it, his name written in bold letters across it like a Hollywood star. Janus rolled his eyes and knocked on it, walking in at Roman’s call.
“Can I use your phone?”
“Why?” Roman gave him a hard side eye from where he was splayed across his bed, a script in his hands that he was most likely trying to memorize. 
“I want to call Remus. And unless you know the password to his phone, I can’t get on it.”
“Ah. In full honesty, I don’t even want to know what the cretin has for a password.” With no further convincing, he handed Janus his unlocked phone and went back to scanning the papers, quietly muttering lines to himself while giving Janus the occasion glance. 
He typed in his own number and held the phone to his ear.
“It’s odd hearing my own voice through the phone,” were Janus’ first words to his soulmate. The voice on the other line, his voice, gasped. 
“Oh shit! Ooooh shit! I would have called, but I couldn’t remember my own number!”
“That’s Remus for you.”
“Stop eavesdropping,” Janus snarled, taking a step away.
“If it’s loud enough to hear, is it really eavesdropping?”
Janus lowered the volume of the phone in response, flipping Roman off. “Hi, Remus, I presume.”
“I see you’ve met Roman. Pain in the ass, huh?”
“You could say that.”
“Okay, first things first. You’re hella hot.”
“I’m flattered.”
“Second, where am I?”
Janus chuckled, which sounded odd coming from vocal chords he wasn’t used to. “About twenty minutes away from your house. Did you want to meet somewhere to switch back?”
“Fuck yes. I want my teeth back.”
“Your-” Janus ran his tongue along his teeth, noticing for the first time that they felt different than what he was used to. The general shape, the curve, it was all new, and odd, and suddenly it was all he could think about. “Why the hell did you have to say that?”
Remus snickered, “Whoopsies.”
“How about Edison’s Bakery, on Westland? It’s pretty much in the middle.”
Roman gave him a thumbs up, mouthing ‘good choice’, at the same time as Remus almost squealed in glee. Apparently, he liked the place. 
“I’ll take that as a yes. In half an hour?”
“Before you hang up, what’s your phone password?” He physically recoiled at the response, earning a snort from Roman. “I’m not typing that.”
“That’s the only way you’re getting into my phone.”
“Hold on, how did you get into mine?” Remus only chuckled, and the line went dead. Janus sighed and tossed Roman his phone back, hitting him squarely in the chest. “Not much of a conversationalist, is he?”
“Remus abides to the laws of social constructs about as well as he abides to the laws of nature. That is to say, not at all.” 
“What should I wear? When I go to meet him?”
Roman looked taken aback. It made him scowl in embarrassment, rolling his eyes at the other’s face. 
“I don’t know what Remus likes to wear, dumbass. Don’t get a big head.”
“Uh, the ripped grey jeans with the patch on the thigh and Green Day shirt are his favorite. He usually wears something meshy underneath, but-”
“I’m not wearing mesh.”
Like all of Remus’ clothing, Janus learned very quickly, the Green Day shirt was also full of holes. Whether his closet had been raided by moths, or it was just his aesthetic, he didn’t know. He could see why mesh would go well under it, but there was no way he would stoop to that level, so he threw on the jean vest he’d first seen and went back to Roman’s room to get approved. 
Deciding against seeing the parents again (Janus didn’t understand his instinctual hatred for them, but it was strong), he scaled the drainpipe outside Remus’ window and used his soulmate’s phone for directions to the cafe (despite the disgust he felt at typing in the password), since he still didn’t know the exact directions from this strange neighbourhood.  After deciphering the bus map, he hopped on the next one to arrive, grateful that he’d found enough spare change in Remus’ horribly unorganized wallet for bus fare. 
Surprisingly, he wasn’t nervous by the time he got to the cafe. He’d have thought his nerves would have eaten at him already, telling him to just turn around and live as Remus for the rest of his life, but they were surprisingly calm. There was just something about meeting a soulmate that didn’t mess with him. They were soulmates; they were kind of supposed to be perfect for each other. That’s the whole point. 
It didn’t take long for him to spot himself in the almost empty bakery, propped up against the large window in a way he would never stand, tracing the patterns on the ceiling with his eyes. Janus sidled up to him- himself? The concept was enough to make his head spin- and, ignoring the slightly Inception-esque nausea of looking at his own body, smirked.
“You’re getting fingerprints all over the glass.”
Remus spun to him, grinning widely, and without further adieu, grabbed his hand. Janus’ vision tunneled before going completely black. A sound like an intense air rush overwhelmed him despite the fact that there was no wind, his ears popped almost painfully, and his mouth went completely dry, but when he opened his eyes again, he was staring back at Remus. Actually Remus. In his own body and everything.
“Oh, my teeth, how I missed you,” The taller crooned, making a show of running his tongue across the outside of his teeth.
“You’re odd.” Never before had Janus been so happy to hear his voice.
“That I am,” Remus said with too wide a grin, tilting his head to the counter. “I waited for you.”
“Glad you had the decency.”
“C’mon, Jay,” He tightened his grip on Janus’ hand, who was surprisingly okay with the nickname (despite having punched people for using it before), “I love their energy drinks.”
“Their what?” Janus had been going here since he was a little kid, and he knew for a fact they didn’t have energy drinks. The overtired barista heard him though, shooting him a look of pure disdain.
“That’s what he calls it. We like to call it the Abomination unto God. I don’t know how his heart doesn’t give out from it. One pump of every flavor, five shots of espresso, top it off with black coffee.”
“Is that legal?” Janus asked incredulously.
“Technically, I just ask for how many espresso shots they can fit in a cup. She was the one to limit it to five.”
“He asked a trainee on their first day working. They filled the whole cup with espresso.”
“I was vibrating.” Remus said dreamily, as if the memory was particularly fond. Despite Janus’ protests, Remus ordered his monstrosity of a drink, pouring at least three sugar packets into the cup to his rising horror, and sat down happily. It was almost enough to make him not want his coffee anymore, watching his soulmate take a long glug of the sludge in his cup.
“So, Janus,” He said when he finally put the half empty cup back onto the table, “How did you find my family?”
Somehow, Janus could sense the underlying question, taking a sip before responding. “They’re fine. Your parents rub me the wrong way, so to speak, and Roman’s a bit of a prick, but they’re fine.” He watched as Remus tossed his cup back again, fiddling with the sleeve on his cup, “I didn’t out you, by the way.”
That was enough to dampen the mood, Remus suddenly looking sullen as he stared at his hands. He blinked rapidly, taking a shaky breath before responding with a quiet thank you.
“They think I’m a girl. So that sucks.”
“They’re homophobic as shit.”
“I figured that out. Is Roman-”
“Gay as they come.”
Janus swirled his drink in his cup, watching the coffee stain the edges. “What will happen if they find out?”
“I don’t want to think about that. Getting disowned, at best.”
They both went silent, almost in solidarity. What could you say to that?
“Do you live alone?” Remus asked out of the blue, drinking more and having the audacity to chew the sugar from the bottom of the cup. 
“My mom’s out of town for work right now.”
“Never knew him.”
“That about sums it up.” The two of them chuckled. 
“So…” Remus started, finishing his concoction and throwing the cup into the garbage can by the sugar station, startling the barista. “We’re soulmates.”
“What led you to that conclusion?” He deadpanned, watching Remus as he took a slow sip of his coffee. 
“Hardy har har.”
“Yes, we’re soulmates,” Janus agreed, “Must we make it complicated?”
“Eh,” The other said with a shrug, “Ride with the tide, see where it goes?”
“Works for me.” As Janus finished off the last of his coffee, he could see Remus’ hands had started to shake violently on the table, and could feel his leg bouncing up a storm underneath it.
“C’mon, get up,” Janus laughed, pulling Remus to his (somewhat unsteady) feet, “Let’s go to the park and get your energy out. Hopefully I can get you home before you crash.”
“Aww, you do care.” Remus cooed, laying his head on Janus’ shoulder as they left the shop.
“I believe that’s the point, dumbass. Now, I’ll race you to the park. Three, two, one, go!”
Remus took off at a full caffeine-induced sprint to the park just down the street as Janus continued his leisurely pace, laughing the further Remus got without realizing he wasn’t following. What had he gotten himself into?
Nothing he didn’t want, that was for sure.
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