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anemoelliacia · 6 months

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the five times diluc knew he loved you

warnings: female reader, mention of very minor injuries in one part, no warning really needed except for this being super sweet fluff <3 this turned out longer than i expected. I meant it to be a short drabble but-

▶ I recommend listening to the song This Side of Paradise by Coyote Theory while reading this chapter. <3

The first instance was when you wanted to bake him a birthday cake. The moment that started it all. You don't have to cook, or bake, you're not that good at it anyways. You know it, and he knows it. Simply tell Adelinde what you want done and she'd do it. She even offered to help you bake, but you insisted on doing it yourself. Diluc came home to see you in his kitchen, flour all over your dress, and somehow even on your forehead. He watched you from the doorway, as you intently tried getting the icing on the lopsided cake in an even layer, a look on your face that said determination, with the tip of your tongue sticking out, eyes piercing with pure focus. He softly smiles, thinking to himself, "I think I love her."

Secondly, when you patched up his minor wounds after his dark knight hero activities. He had come back home to the winery, and you were in bed patiently waiting for him as you usually stay there on the weekends. He wearily took off his disguise, and you saw a few minor injuries on him– just a few scrapes and cuts. You looked at him concerned, and Diluc could practically feel the worry oozing off you. He insisted he was fine, but you insisted otherwise. You sternly made him sit down so you could clean up his injuries, despite your tone he knew you were not mad, you were just showing care for him– and despite your own discomfort with blood and injuries, you took your time with a gentle, loving hand to properly clean and bandage his wounds. He watched you, seeing the concentration on your worried face, thinking to himself, "I think I love this woman with all my heart."

Thirdly, when he found you picking grapes on a busy day at the winery. He had been stressed lately, the winery was far more busy than usual. He had his own work to attend to, plus now not enough hands on deck to pick the grapes– so he'd have to help with that on top of all his other duties. He had been venting to you about how busy it was, not that he wanted you to help with such hard labour, he just needed an outlet. Later that day, he found you outside in the vineyard without a word said to him about it, one of the staff teaching you how to properly harvest the grapes. He admired you from afar, looking with eyes full of affection as you decided to help around the winery despite not being a staff member. He thinks, "I truly love her."

Fourthly, when you were in bed together both minding your own. You were sitting beside him reading a thrilling book, and unbeknownst to you he was watching the little reactions on your face. He looked away from you momentarily, only to hear a barely audible gasp escape you. Diluc turned his head back in your direction, only to see a few tears trickling down your cheeks, the book having elicited an emotional response from you. He chuckled quietly, and reached over to the bedside table to grab a clean handkerchief, he handed it to you so you could wipe away your tears. He thought to himself once again, "wow, I really do love her..."

The fifth and final instance that made him realize you're the one was something simple, so domestic and mundane. It happened when you helped him put his hair up one morning when he was too tired to do it himself. You had spent the night, and he hadn't slept well, which was no one's fault, he just had too much on his mind. He could hardly shake the fatigue off, and the half-drank coffee in his hands hadn't kicked in yet. He was exhausted, but the day must still go on. He sat on the edge of the bed sipping his coffee, trying to wake up. You placed a chaste kiss on his forehead, before wordlessly climbing onto the bed behind him with a hair brush, a hair tie and a few hair pins. You carefully and meticulously brushed the tangles from his thick hair, and pulled it up into a high ponytail with a loving touch, gently pinning up a few stray hairs as well. In the back of his mind, there was an ever present thought that you're the one, as this moment tugged on his heart strings. So, "I love you," he finally said, now knowing it to be true.

▶ if you liked this, check out the other parts linked in my masterlist :) every genshin man i write for is getting their own part.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact smut #genshin impact drabble #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader

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catpriciousmarjara · 8 months

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DP X DC

Ao3

The Job Offer

"And why not you?", said the man. "You're intelligent, skilled, and adaptable. Most importantly, you're entertaining. That last part becomes very important when dealing with my kind".

A ring glinted in the dim light as he gestured with his hands. "Plus, there wouldn't be any danger in the first place! Our lot tend to stick to the Rules, you see? And not harming the messenger is most certainly a Rule".

A sip of coffee. Eyes filling with mirth.

"In the off chance that someone did take offence, all you have to do is amuse them for a while, and as I said, you're very good at that. But don't worry, they won't take offence".

Dick Grayson, attention still half focused on the vicious black claws on the man's hand, had to ask, "And why won't they?"

The man's pleasant smile didn't falter. But it did slowly morph into a grin with way too many teeth to be normal. The young vigilante had to suppress a shudder.

When the man?it spoke, the voice resonated. "Because you'll be one of mine. And they won't dare touch what's mine".

The teeth gleamed.

And just as abruptly as it shifted, the air changed, the pressure lifted, and the man was smiling once more.

Dick was left off-footed and tightly clutching the arms of his chair, his breath fogging in the still frigid air. He hadn’t even noticed the temperature dropping.

He looked at the man nonchalantly sitting across from him as if he hadn't just taken years off of Dick's life. The vigilante was not one to scare easily. Yet, mere moments ago, Dick had felt a fear so primal that it was maddening. It was not the kind of fear a human being could evoke, no matter how frightening their actions may be. Dick had seen the worst of Gotham, and Gotham was a cesspit on a good day. But he hadn't ever felt like this before today. If there was ever a question about the humanity of his companion before...well it was answered now.

To be honest, he couldn't quite recall how he got here in the first place. Everything was a blur.

No...not quite. His memories were alright, it's just that his mind couldn’t grasp them.

And every second in this...space, had felt muted. As though he was lying beneath several layers of sheer fabric; he could somewhat feel things, see things, but his senses were muffled.

The spike of fear from before wasn't him breaking through as much as he was allowed to break through, and now he was safely back beneath the dampening cloud once more. It was almost comforting.

Dangerous.

Dick only remembered what had happened in bits and pieces. Being fired from Robin, the legacy he had forged for himself, named after his mother's love, and garbed in Grayson colours.

Being angry and distraught. Not knowing what to do.

It had taken him weeks to reorient himself. A month to gather his composure.

He vaguely recollected a cafe in Jump City. He had been sitting in a booth, contemplating his options...

Someone had sat right across from him, right?

He had looked up…

“Hello. May I sit here?”

“...Sure. Go ahead.”

“Daniel Nightingale.”

“...Richard Grayson.”

" I know. You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way. Also, could I have a bit of your time?"

"Um...yeah, sure?"

“Perfect!”

And the next thing he knew, he was Here.

Wherever here was.

(Why had he said yes then? He would never have done that normally.)

At first his mind had been adamant in believing that here was the very same cafe he had been sitting in. But Dick wasn't trained by the man known as the World's Greatest Detective for nothing. However, it had taken him an embarrassing few moments to start noticing the abnormalities.

For one thing, he had been sitting in a booth in a cafe, not at an ornate wooden table, much like the one in Bruce's home office. The only thing the cafe table and this one had in common was that they were both rectangular.

Secondly, their table was covered by a veil. A huge gauzy one hanging from above. But try as he might he couldn't see where it was hanging from, just a yawning darkness.

Finally, he could see shadows moving beyond the veil, and the more he looked, the more bizarre they became. And at one point, the shadows lost all pretence of humanity. They weren't even humanoid, let alone human.

He definitely wasn't in Jump City anymore.

It had taken him even longer to notice the man sitting across him. That he hadn’t left this Daniel Nightingale behind.

Wispy white hair.

"Ah! You noticed so quickly. You really are the perfect fit for the job!"

Green. green eyes.

"Apologies for the veiling. It's necessary however.., some things are not just meant for mortal eyes, you see. Without it, you might just go insane! We wouldn't want that now would we?"

Unnaturally pale skin.

"Enough dillydallying! But first, introductions. You may call me either Daniel or Nightingale. By what name would you prefer to be called?”

Something about that question made the ex-Robin’s hindbrain pay attention. The wording of it, the tone…

You shouldn’t give out your name so freely by the way.

Could I have a bit of your time?

Something had felt incredibly off, so he had gone ahead and given one of the alternate names he had been thinking of taking up now that Robin was over.

“You may call me Nightjar.”

Nightingale had looked incredibly pleased then. And a bit smug too.

“Let me cut to the chase then Nightjar. I’m here to offer you a job. You’re a perfect fit for the role. We offer excellent compensation, and flexible work hours. Considering you’re out of work now that you’ve been fired from Robin, I believe my offer would be interesting for you.”

For some reason, perhaps because of all the strange things that happened, the fact that Nightingale seemed to know his alter ego hadn’t surprised Dick. Instead of asking how he came to know about this particular information, including the fact that he got fired, he decided to keep the conversation rolling on this supposed job offer. He had an inkling that he won’t get anywhere even if he asked, so might as well mine some information by making the other man talk.

“What kind of job is it? And what exactly would be included in the compensation?”

In response the man had snapped his fingers, and produced a file out of nowhere. He opened it, turned it around and slid it across the table. Dick started. Nightingale made a go ahead gesture, a smile on his lips once more. Dick gingerly dragged it a bit closer, and took a look.

“As you can see Nightjar, the position being offered is that of a courier. Due to many reasons, delivery across the realms is a cumbersome affair, not the least due to political complications. The best system to lay down in this situation was to have an impartial party be in charge of the work. You can say that I am a representative of the aforementioned impartial party that took over the role. If you would turn a page over-

Dick had dutifully turned the page.

-you’d see that we offer great compensation. In addition to your salary, you’ll receive health insurance, life insurance, death insurance, medical insurance, dental, vision care insurance, paid vacation time, overtime pay, paid time-off, flexible time-off, paid medical leave, free medical care, maternity leave, paternity leave, all other forms of parental leave, a good retirement package, loan assistance, wellness programmes, child care assistance, regular bonuses, promotions, raises, accommodation, a provident fund, and a whole host of other benefits that are clearly listed on the page. And of course at the end right there is our offered starting salary, which is highly negotiable up to the amount listed right below it. Please take as much time as you need to read through them.”

To say Dick had been overwhelmed was an understatement. He hadn’t thought that this was going to be an actual, honest to God job offer. If anything he just thought the entire job thing was an excuse or prelude to something much worse. But as he parsed through the file, getting increasingly bewildered as the man rattled on, he had to admit that this really looked like a weird recruitment effort. And then his eyes had fallen on the salary figure, and the amount to which it could be negotiated upwards, and he froze. Because even for the ex-ward of a billionaire, it was a ludicrous number. He couldn’t even accurately count the zeros on the thing. Even Wayne Enterprises wouldn't be able to match a deal like this.

At that thought Dick had felt a pang of pain as he remembered Bruce still hadn’t called him, or even made an attempt at apologising. There were no texts, no missives. Just radio silence. The pain in his chest increased and Dick had felt the ever returning feeling of being unmoored. He pushed those feelings to the furthest corners of his mind. He had to focus now.

Feeling marginally calmer, he had taken a deep breath and closed the file. He looked up at Nightingale who had been watching him avidly over the rim of a coffee cup which definitely wasn’t there before, and asked the most pertinent question.

“Why me?”

And now they are here.

Dick scoffed at the white haired being’s answer. Oh he didn’t doubt that it was the truth. By now he had somehow come to an understanding of how this worked. It was fae rules. Meaning he had to watch his mouth. Similarly Nightingale won’t lie, but he can certainly obfuscate.After all withholding information wasn’t technically a lie, especially if it was masked with a half-truth. In other words, Nightingale hadn’t lied, but that wasn’t all there is to it. And Dick wasn’t going to let it slide.

“How am I supposed to believe you to be a good employer if you’re already lying?”, he asked outright. You know, like a reckless fool.

Nightingale’s pleasant smile instantly froze, and then it gained an edge. A sharp, lethal edge.

“I don’t lie”, the man said, a cold cadence to his voice.

Dick could feel the figurative whetted blade on his throat, but he pressed forward. This was the first time he had taken blood in this fiasco and he wasn’t going to concede just like that.

“Lying by omission, is still lying.”

Nightingale’s entire mien darkened, and frost spread across the table. Dick didn’t back off.

There was silence. Suffocating silence. And then the vergals receded and Nightingale sat back with a satisfied air. Dick blinked in surprise.

“Good. You didn’t cower.”

Dick sat back on his own chair, his breath fogging in the still cold air. “Was that a test?”

Nightingale took another sip of his coffee. Was it even coffee? It looked like coffee, but who knows what anything is in this bizarre space. Certainly not Dick.

“It was a test. The position of a courier in this part of existence requires mettle, and a strong mind. You would be dealing with beings ranging from the divine to the demonic. I’m sure you know they are a stubborn lot. You’ll have to stand up to them often. Plus you would be representing Us. We can’t have an unprincipled, craven fool take the job can we now? So I had to test you. Congratulations! You passed with flying colours.”

Dick glared at the man. “I still haven’t agreed to anything. And you still haven’t told me why I was chosen.”

Nightingale chuckled. It was an unnatural, but pleasant sound. “Aah you caught that. Very well then.”

He clasped his hands together and put them on the table, bringing Dick’s attention to the black, razor sharp claws once again, as well as to the extremely ominous ring he wore on his left hand’s little finger.

“You were chosen because you are a multiversal constant. This job requires much interdimensional, interuniversal travel, and a multiversal constant is ideal for the role. And before you ask, a multiversal constant is essentially someone whose soul acts as a consistent axis across worlds through indelible aspects of their existence. They are rare, and their axial quality makes multiversal travel easy for them.”

The white haired entity’s eyes shone in the dim light. “You are a multiversal constant Nightjar. Centred around your potential, And also, I know you will agree to do the job. So I’m not worried.”

Even as he struggled to process what was just revealed, Dick found the energy to scowl at the impishly grinning man. “And how would you know? What’s in it for me? All I’m seeing is a job, the benefits of which, doesn’t make up for how dangerous it is.”

“But you will accept it nonetheless”, replied Nightingale with an amused air. “Think about it. You’ve been fired from Robin but still intend to continue being a vigilante, and vigilantism is expensive work. Now that you don’t have the Wayne coffers to pull from, you would have to find alternate means to acquire resources. You’re brilliant and I have no doubt you will find those resources and do spectacularly under your new mantle. But that would take time. And calling in favours that could either be used somewhere else, or make you indebted to someone. The salary this job provides you will allow you to finance your quest for justice, and still have plenty leftover. Not to mention the other benefits, such as the free medical care provided by Us, people who will never question your injuries the way a normal hospital might, or put your civilian identity at risk like a back alley doctor.”

Nightingale’s verdant eyes stared a hole through Dick as he spoke. “You wanted to get out of Batman’s shadow. This is your chance, Nightjar.”

The young vigilante had to give it to Nightingale. The man sure knew how to pitch an offer. He found himself agreeing to most of what Nightingale said, especially the finances part but he still wasn’t going to agree to a job that would put him in the crosshairs of gods and demons. That was just monumentally stupid.

“You make good points”, Dick said as he slid the file sitting idle on his side to Nightingale. “But I’m still not gonna agree.”

Nightingale slid the file back over to him without missing a bit.

“If I thought you were the type to easily capitulate I wouldn’t have approached you in the first place,” the man said, not a single sign of ire at Dick’s repeated refusal in his voice. In fact he seemed rather glad Dick was being difficult.

“You want to know more about being a multiversal constant correct? That is not the kind of information you’ll find lying around on earth.”

A pitch black claw scraped across the table, but there was no noise, and the deep scratch left behind instantly stitched itself back together, the tabletop pristine once more.

“By now you must have a rudimentary idea of the world you are being invited into. You would not have called yourself Nightjar otherwise. You also know that this is not a world Batman has access to.”

The man pointed opened his right palm, still resting on the table, and brilliant emerald fire blazed to life on it. Something in Dick’s lizard brain told him this fire ran cold rather than hot.

“Magic and everything associated with it is not something the Dark Knight can handle by his usual methods. And magic is just one of the aspects of our Realm. An infinite more mysteries keep it company. This world is yours for the taking. No mortal would be able to access what you can and you would be able to help so many people.”

Blue eyes met green.

“This will set you apart from Batman once and for all. An identity that no one can take away from you at their whim. Just think of this as your day job, as being a CEO is for Bruce Wayne.”

Nightingale clasped one of Dick’s hands resting on the table and transferred the fire over to it. Dick stared as the flame danced merrily in his palm. It really was cold. By the time he had his wits about him, the fire had vanished. Nightingale had seemingly finished his coffee, as the cup was nowhere to be seen.

Dick glanced at the white haired man who watched him calmly. Then he took the file and started reading through it. If he was going to take this job, he was going to make sure to read the fine print. Out of the corner of his eye, he could spy Nightingale’s gleaming, triumphant smile. Dick couldn’t help but feel annoyed.

He didn’t know how much time it took for him to read the file completely. Time ran strangely in this space. What he did know was there was an ornate, silver pen right next to him, which definitely wasn’t there before. He had to roll his eyes at Nightingale's antics.

Nonetheless he uncapped it, admiring the craftsmanship for a moment, and signed on the dotted line in his Alfred approved best cursive, bells, whistles, hoops and all.

Nothing happened. Dick felt kinda disappointed. He had thought signing a magical contract with a possible fae creature would be a little less anti-climactic. Across from him, Nightingale chuckled as if he could read his mind. Could he?

He slid the file over once more, this time for last. Nightintingale just skimmed through before sliding over an envelope.

“Your appointment letter”.

“You had that ready?”

“Of course.”

Dick snorted inelegantly at that. Obviously the man had foreseen how this would go. That should make him more wary than what he was feeling, but just as he had known the fire was cold before, he knew Nightingale wouldn’t harm him. Bruce would call him an idiot for this kind of illogical thinking, but Bruce wasn’t here now was he?

He was about to shove another medley of complicated emotions down, when Nightingale reached over and viciously ran a claw down his right arm. Blood spurted in a gruesome display and Dick scrambled back, chair falling down, and his body hitting the surprisingly sturdy veil.

“What was that about?”, he shouted as he clutched his bleeding arm to his chest. Just when he had thought the man didn’t mean him any harm…

Nightingale had the audacity to look nonplussed. He simply brought his palms up as if to show he meant no harm, but it was a moot point when one of his claws was dripping with Dick’s blood.

“Just testing something”, the man said calmly.

“Testing what?’, Dick asked angry and confused.

In response, Nightingale simply pointed to his arm.

“What? Testing whether your claws could tear me apar-”

He stopped short. There, before his eyes, the flesh of his arm was knitting itself together. In mere moments, the wound was gone, not even a scar where it should be. Dick was reminded of the table from before. What just happened?

“What did you do to me?”, he asked, voice soft, and emotionless.

“Don’t worry. It's your compensation. Part of your medical aid.”

He waved his hand, and the blood vanished. “Do sit down, Nightjar. Lets order something to eat.”

Robotically Dick walked to the table once more. The upturned chair was somehow rightened, already pulled out as if waiting for him.

“That was a healing factor”, he said rather than asked.

Nightingale nodded unbothered. “Yes, you’ll be needing that in your line of work.”

The veil opened and admitted a two-headed woman in, carrying trays of food in her four arms.

When she left, Nightingale eagerly took up his cutlery, looking excitedly at what looked like a luminescent crepe. He glanced at a shell-shocked Dick and frowned.

“Please eat. It's safe to consume, now that you’re one of us. If you’re worrying about your job, don’t. You have been assigned an excellent mentor in Harker. The White Grim will train you well.”

With that, he dug in, clearly enjoying his glowing crepe.

Dick just stared at the man, at his no longer injured arm, and sighed. Might as well eat. He hadn’t gotten to eat anything at the cafe and was beginning to feel hungry.

He scooped a spoonful from what seemed like an overly fancy bowl of cereal.

One of them huh?

He took a bite.

#dp x dc #My contribution to the agenda of more Dick Grayson in dp x dc #Ghost King Danny kinda forgot to human #In professional settings he emulates Clockwork #He doesn't know that because of how he looks he seems more mischievous but dangerous Fae King than Ghost King #Nobody tell him #He just doesn't have Clockwork's ancient and wise vibe #The infinite Realms offer the best employee benefits in the Omniverse #Shout out to the real ones that saw my boy Jonathan Harker #our very good friend #thanking @see-arcane for the inspiration for the White Grim title #much obliged #Courier AU

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ggomos-maribat · 6 months

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6 | lost

Part 6 of Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Dead | Masterlist

CW: Depressive thoughts

After Alfred's badgering, Bruce finally retreated from the dark confines of the Batcave and brought his work up to the manor's dining room. The stack of papers rustled as he spread them on the wooden surface, and his laptop lit up again with the dust on the screen more evident in the light. Bruce rolled up his sleeves and began to read again.

In entered Duke.

"Hey B. Coffee?" His second youngest offered.

"A cup please, Duke. Thank you," said Bruce without looking up.

"What's that?"

Bruce let himself lean back a little. Perhaps Duke could give his thoughts on his search? "Remember the akumas from Paris?" He stretched his arms. "After Hawkmoth's defeat, the two heroes Ladybug and Chat Noir disappeared from the public's eye without prior notice. The League tried to track them down for a short while, but we came up with nothing."

"Why do you need to find them?" Duke quizzed.

Bruce stared at the photos of two blurs: one in red, one in black. It was no mistake that the two heroes had been on the younger side when they first started, and yet they lasted through the long battle with a terrorist. "Firstly, we barely know anything about the Miraculous and Hawkmoth's actual motives. Ladybug did announce that Hawkmoth had been caught and promised that he would be facing consequences, but she denied everyone of any other information. Secondly, we want to be allies with them, or associates at least."

Bruce heard the clinking of metal to ceramic as Duke stirred the drinks. "It's not the first time a set of magical powers are hidden away to protect those powers, right?"

"Right." Bruce nodded. "Our problem with the Paris situation is that it happened under our noses for years, and we hadn't caught on until it was over. We want to keep the same thing from happening again."

It's mostly regret. Guilt, Bruce wanted to say. It was too late when we noticed an entire city suffering. The things they dealt with were in the levels of world threats. He remembered waking up to the news that shook the entire world, not having time to register it since the Justice League needed to take immediate action.

"Is that the same thing Dick's going crazy about since he came back here?" Duke set down the cups on the table, pulling a seat for himself beside Bruce.

"It's a different but not completely unrelated issue," Bruce replied. He was also hoping some clue from the case would turn up for the benefit of his search. It was partly the reason he let Tim and Jason go to Paris.

"Hm. Any leads from Constantine?"

"Only chunks of indecipherable texts related to the Miraculi." Bruce showed him a picture of the strange symbols from a book called 'the Grimoire'. "He's convinced that the current Guardian of the Miraculous is Ladybug herself."

"What about Aunt Diana?"

"Her mother has had prior connections with the Ladybug Miraculous before, but they lost contact a long time ago. Diana's helping with my search as well."

"Sounds like a dead end." Duke sipped on his drink.

"It's not strictly an urgent case, but it's important nonetheless." Bruce skimmed over his notes. "Even with the thousands of photos of Ladybug and Chat Noir, the Miraculous Magic is able to hide their real identities very well and no existing accounts of a civilian contact exist. Well, briefly there was one about Lilia Ross, but she denied it after a while."

"What if you retrace the heroes' steps and try to figure out Hawkmoth's identity instead? If the heroes found him out, maybe that's an easier angle," Duke suggested.

It's a good strategy. But how far will it actually take the search?

"Thank you, Duke," Bruce cleared his throat. "I'll give Tim a call."

***

Meanwhile, deep under the manor, Damian strolled into the cave to find Dick finishing the call with their brother. The youngest Wayne took a seat in front of him. "What did you tell Drake?"

"I asked them to ask Adrien Agreste about his cousin, Felix Fathom," Dick answered. "He was in Paris on the day Marinette was found."

"Are you suspecting him for murder?"

"What? No," Dick said, "I'm just considering him to be someone with information, since he has been involved with Hawkmoth and akumas before."

". . . And what does that have to do with her death?"

"It's all part of Tim's theory, that maybe Hawkmoth was targeting Marinette. Felix had a lot of trips to Paris at the time with unclear purposes. Sure, we can say he's just there to visit Adrien but the timing is off."

Damian raised an eyebrow. "Would he not be comforting his cousin because Adrien lost a friend?"

"Call it a hunch, okay? It's a lead . . . aha!"

Dick held his breath—he'd just received a response from Barbara, from a request he made for the investigation. She was able to dig up the lost evidence and compile the translated file and send it to him. Oracle, you're a godsend, Dick praised.

"What's that?" Damian asked.

"I snooped around in the digital archives of the investigation team at that time." He anxiously tapped on the tablet, and sent the file to the Batcomputer for viewing. "Turns out they lost file of a key evidence to Marinette's death: her diary. The original copy went missing from the office some time ago."

The screen showed scanned pages of the diary—the words were written on lined pages in Marinette's neat handwriting, and the shape of the paper was somewhat curved. On the side of the photo was the re-typed French text, and then the translated English. The first entry was dated about three years before her death. Dick scrolled down to the last page and found that the last entry was on April fifteenth, just before her body was found by the bridge.

"Why didn't you tell Todd and Drake about this?" Damian leaned on the table to get a good look at the entry.

"I want to put together my findings here before I tell them." Dick sighed in frustration. "I really should've went to Paris too."

I have no choice but to help with the investigation from afar. He slowly and carefully read through the last entry, guessing that it should give them the most clues about her death.

15 April

These days I've been feeling 'free'. T says it's because I've been liberated at last and I've only begun feeling it now. I don't know if it's supposed to be like this. Maybe it's my way of adjusting to something new. Yes, it's a big leap, I know, but T will be there for me. T's strangely very optimistic about it. Years ago I wouldn't have thought that this will be the person I'll be. I guess time passes faster when you're older?

Dick stopped reading. Her writing is unexpectedly . . . heavy. It was like she'd already seen so much horrors in her life. He almost felt like an intruder in her thoughts.

He forced himself to keep reading.

'Freedom' feels a bit empty? Or lonely? T says it's the trauma. Adrien says that emptiness will get filled in soon. Apparently, it's the same thing he felt when his mother disappeared. If this is exactly it, I want to go back in time and comfort the younger Adrien. Maybe if you stay too long in chaos, you get used to it and find the calm strange. I hope that turns around for me soon.

The words cut off at that part.

"That's it?" Dick blinked a few times. "That's the end of it?"

"T . . . This 'T' person," Damian thought out loud. "There isn't anyone close to Marinette whose name starts with 'T', except for her father." He took over briefly and scrolled through the other pages. "But in other entries she only refers to her father as 'papa'."

"It could be 'T' for Kagami Tsurugi but the entries started way before they met," Dick added, "Also, she refers to Kagami as just 'Kagami' here, it looks like."

"So this person is another confidant of Marinette's that her friends and family likely had no idea about, and could be involved in her death."

"Assisted suicide? Is this why the police declared it a suicide?"

"It's not exactly a suicide note," Damian crossed his arms. "No farewell, or mentions of leaving possessions behind . . . If anything, it seems like she was actually hopeful for recovery, maybe from the emotional distress caused by Hawkmoth's actions in Paris."

Did we actually end up with more questions than answers? Dick wondered.

"Tim said something about Lilia Ross' transfer to their school having an effect on her that time. Let's see . . . " Dick skimmed through the entries to find a handful written a few years back:

8 November

They left me alone in downtown Gotham.

I can't believe they'd do that. I told them I had to fill out some forms in the museum and...they got on the bus without me. I wish Adrien were here. I had to ask help from the front desk and they kindly got a taxi for me back to the hotel. What is Bustier thinking? Will anyone be on my side if I speak up about it?

No.

Probably not.

It will be more of a burden if I do. I keep telling T I'll be fine. I just have to get through one more day and we'll be back in Paris soon. Someday I'll visit Gotham on my own again and dispel these bad memories.

"What the fuck?" Dick whispered. Even if the class or Lilia Ross had nothing to do with her death, this proved that they weren't faultless either. How could this have happened without anyone from WE noticing? Who the hell leaves a teenager alone in an unfamiliar crime-ridden city?

"Grayson," Damian snapped him back to reality.

He sighed and switched to another entry.

13 May

T says I have to go to bed but I almost forgot to write here. Nothing new happened today but my body feels so heavy. If I try to rest I either can't fall asleep or I end up dreading the days to come in my dreams nightmares. Hawkmoth has been getting ruthless each week, it's crazy. Why can't he just stop? How much do we have to give him? Yesterday I had to fend off a butterfly. Then the day before that. Then the day before that. Then the month before. I don't know what to do.

Is being brave something inherent or does it come after I face my fears? T says I look brave. I don't feel like it though. Each risk I take, I actually get very scared. I'm not actually sure what would happen. I might look confident but I'm not. I wonder what everyone would think if they found that out about me. What would they say? Will they sympathize with me or will they refuse to believe it?

21 July

I'm happy to have Adrien to talk to now. I know he still has his hands tied, but it's getting easier to talk to him since last week. We both told each other that it had been a huge weight off our backs. This feels too good to be true. The younger me would've been ecstatic. I'm ecstatic now too, but for different reasons. I hugged Adrien very tightly this morning and told him 'thank you'. He hugged me back and whispered more 'thank yous'. It was sudden but we both knew what it was for. T helped me wipe my tears after.

Things are going to change from now on. Is it bad that I feel ready to face those changes because I have Adrien on my side now? I used to think he put too much faith in me before. No, even now. I used to be scared I won't live up to his perfect image of me. But now his trust is something I really need. I'll put my faith in him too.

How can her words be so vulnerable but so secretive at the same time? Marinette didn't seem to be straightforward in her writing, and yet she completely conveyed her thoughts and feelings. How much more do we have to read to get a clearer picture?

"This mystery person is strange," Damian concluded, "Our best chance at figuring their identity is to ask Agreste."

Dick nodded in agreement. "Looks like he has the most answers right now. It says she was almost akumatized multiple times too, which supports Tim's theory."

"Wasn't Hawkmoth caught before her death?"

"He might still have other ways," Dick considered. "Ladybug never clarified what exactly happened to him. How was he punished? Imprisonment? Weird magic ritual? Death? We don't know."

His phone suddenly buzzed at the same time that a notification appeared on the computer.

Another Lilia Ross scandal has blown up.

***

The first few rumors were matches being lit, and the one that assumed Lilia Ross to be a killer started a forest fire. This one was gasoline, Tim thought. Just as the internet was getting quiet, posts showed up again, this time attacking Lilia's company.

"So, someone saw pictures of Marinette's old clothes designs that she submitted for competitions," Tim recapped, while Jason listened beside him and Dick and Damian watched from the screen. "And compared them to Lilia Ross' current brand's designs. They look like carbon copies, but with just a few tweaks. Now Lilia's being accused as a thief. Others are saying more of the designs were stolen by Lilia, based on the accounts of their old schoolmates."

"It should be recounted in her diary if there was theft," Damian chimed in.

"Diary, what diary?" Jason asked.

The screen pinged, receiving an encrypted file from Dick. "Babs found a digital copy of her diary that the police used to keep, but the original one went missing. There's a lot of things here, including accounts of what Lila did and said in their class."

"There. February first," Dick pointed out as soon as Jason scrolled to it on their screen.

1 February

My missing sketchbook returned to me in my locker. There were tears on the paper and burn marks and liquid stains and pages ripped out and pages crossed over with a black marker. It was one of the first sketchbooks I've ever completed and it's full of draft designs. How do I prove it's Lila's fault? I knew I shouldn't have left my bag in the room for that short while. I knew I shouldn't have brought it to school.

I want to throw it out.

T says I should keep it, and use it to finally shed the truth on her.

But what evidence do I have? Is this enough to make her face the consequences?

I locked it away under my bed. Whatever. I'll fill up another sketchbook. I'll remake the designs. If Lila sees me crying over it, she wins. If the world sees me crying, Hawkmoth wins. If I fight back, they get the upper hand anyway. I just have to be more careful next time. It was just hard not to let my emotions spill when I found it. Lila was nearby waiting for my reaction earlier, I know it. She seemed proud of what she had done.

"What the fuck?" Jason seethed, "She stole her designs!"

Tim's lips drew into a thin line. Was this what Marinette had been feeling the whole time? He couldn't imagine it . . . the suppressed emotions, the feelings of helplessness, the manipulation. She readily gave up.

"Who's 'T'?" Tim brought up the other point about the diary entry nagging at him.

"Some friend of Marinette's who's always mentioned in this diary," Damian replied, "They seem to be very close."

"Does that ring a bell for you?" Dick leaned in.

"No, not at all. Is it a codename? An online friend maybe?"

"Based on this diary, T is always close to her, like, physically."

"Is it . . . a psychological thing?" Jason said softly.

"I wouldn't immediately conclude that." It was already in Tim's jumbled thoughts—a guess. A wild guess. "With the Miraculi in Paris . . . " He sucked in a breath. "Fuck. Ladybug's kwami's name was . . ."

The others seemed to realize it too at that second.

A muffled buzz rang out.

"I got a message," Dick suddenly said, frowning. "It's Babs. She says she found who ordered the investigation to be closed."

"Who?"

"Adrien . . . it was Adrien Agreste."

Taglist: @hammalammadamdam @toodaloo-kangaroo@missmadwoman@afanofmanyships@atomicherringpersonjudge-blog@wheredostarsgowhenyoudie

#maribat fanfic #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #maribat #maribat fic #character death #major character death #angst #MDC is Dead #dc x miraculous #tw mentions of suicide #tw mention of death #tw depressing thoughts #tw depressive

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butterflybam · 2 years

Text

Just a little drabble I came up with for @wrestling-fangirl93 I hope you like it 💕

Sana x fem reader

It had been one of those days you wanted to stay curled up in bed. Unfortunately, you weren't given that luxury, and you had to go to work. You did try to look on the bright side, but everything seemed to go wrong.

First, your boss claimed you were the cause of an accident, but you were certain it couldn't have been you. You weren't even in that area.

Secondly, a customer decided to take all their frustration out on you, and you had to stand there and take it.

And last, you spilled your coffee, and it ended up all over you.

It took everything in you not to break down in tears. Thankfully, it was now time to go home, and the trip there seemed to take forever. Once inside, and with the door locked behind you, the tears started pouring. Though you didn't notice the guest sitting on the couch.

Your girlfriend, Sana.

She decided to surprise you with a visit, and she even brought dinner knowing you hadn't eaten yet. When she had heard the door unlock, she nearly jumped with joy. She had been busy and hadn't been able to spend time with you, so she was excited. The smile that had been on her face quickly disappeared and she rushed over to you.

Right now, she was worried. Had something happened? So many possibilities rushed through her head.

"Babe, what's wrong?" She asked, trying to sound as calm as possible.

You looked to see her standing there and you couldn't manage to get the words out. You could tell she was eyeing you for any injuries, but her eyes stopped when she saw the stain on your shirt. She glanced back up to see how truly worn out you looked. Without having to say a word she knew instantly.

Quickly and quietly, she opened her arms to you and, in an instant, she was holding you close. Her hand was rubbing your back, trying to soothe you.

Even though it seemed like the world was out to get you, at least you knew you had someone there on your side.

#twice imagines #twice x reader #sana imagines #sana x reader #kpop fanfic

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avatarskywalker78 · 3 months

Text

Once again it's WIP Wednesday so here's a couple snippets from two of my wips!! Firstly, from the Snowfall in New York scene I wrote this week - more of Evan & Kate.

"I don't know how you do it," he admitted as he handed over her coffee and took a sip of his own, "hearing how their families treat these kids." "Come on, you've heard plenty of harrowing stories as a social worker. Besides," Kate continued, becoming more animated now she'd gotten some caffeine in her, "I know what it's like, remember? I know what it is to be kicked out at fourteen and scared out of my mind because everything I've ever known has changed in an instant. It doesn't make it easier, but it means I can understand. And some of these kids don't necessarily want someone getting angry on their behalf, they just want-" "-someone to listen." He realised. "Exactly." "Even so, it's a good thing you do. I've always thought so." "Thanks." She gave a tired smile. "You're not so bad yourself, you know - you do a lot for the community. "Th-thank you." He hoped he wasn't blushing too much.

He's a very new OC but I already love him and his friendship with Kate.

Secondly, a snippet from my Lissa Blackwood AU - set soon after Jaime's return to King's Landing (it helps to write random scenes sometimes)

He didn't even know why he was heading towards the godswood, given that he hadn't been there in...gods, was it really seventeen years? Seventeen? Sometimes it felt like it had been much, much longer than that...but ever since telling Brienne about Lissa, it had begun feeling not that long at all, like he was still that young man who'd had hope of finding his friend. Jaime had only been here twice in all his years. Both times he had made promises, Both times he'd failed to keep those promises. He'd vowed to be there for Lissa if she needed help, and he hadn't been. Months later he'd sworn to the old gods and the new that he would find her, alive, and he'd been unable to find so much as a trace of her. Why am I doing this, he thought, yet still he made his way towards the heart tree, still standing guard over the place, and as he came to a stop the memories came flooding back of the last time he'd seen her; dressed more formally than usual yet still with that air of wildness about her, dark curls falling about her shoulders, concern in her eyes and an uncharacteristic nervousness about her, enough that he'd been compelled to ask about it. I should've pushed. I should've done more to find out what she was really worried about instead of blindly accepting the answer she gave me.

(The path to redemption brings up a lot of stuff for him - Lissa later turning out to be alive doesn't change that)

Tagging (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @shrinkthisviolet @dream-beyond-the-fantasy

#work in progress wednesday #oc: evan #oc: kate simons #wip: snowfall in new york #marvel cinematic universe #jaime lannister #oc: lissa blackwood #series: lissa blackwood au #asoiaf

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whatologys · 2 years

Note

Hello!! I love your writing sm omg. 🥺 and I want to request a continuation of the lloyd x reader fiction where lloyd reunites with the reader after a rew seasons and finds out reader has moved on. Also would it be too much to add in that she's dating one of the other ninjas??

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: again, curse words :)

𝔭𝔞𝔦𝔯𝔦𝔫𝔤: lloyd garmadon x gn!reader

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 0.5 k

𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔡: yes/no

𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖗𝖊: angst :o

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖙𝖘: none :p

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢𝔰: thank you so much for the request and it's so sweet of you to say that you like my writing. <3 secondly, i am so so sorry this took so long, i've had so much fucking homework it is insane.

anyways, it's the second part to 'i love you so', and for the other love interest i picked kai so i hope that's alright. i did add a minor tweak, i am not so far into the season yet (still in 10 lol), so it will be when garmadaddy- garmadon is in jail :D

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: after you broke up with lloyd, you went your own way. then like any other person, you moved on and when lloyd realises, he is quite upset.

As you sat down on a chair in your favourite coffee shop, you think about the past few years. It all felt so surreal, at first you joined the ninja and helped them fight crime all over Ninjago. You even started dating the one and only green ninja, although that was short-lived. Even though the break-up had been rough at first, you found comfort in your friends, one in particular.

That guy being the one who you were currently waiting for. You grabbed a book out of your bag, since it was getting boring just sitting there the whole time. So to say you were releaved when you heard the door ring was an understatement. It was a small coffee shop that not any people knew about so you figured it was you current boyfriend, but that wasn't the case.

As you watched the blonde boy in his signature green hoodie walk in you felt a rush of emotions. The same emotions you felt when you broke up with him. You sunk into your chair, trying to hide from the green ninja order a coffee. You thought that he hadn't seen you, but when he went to leave with his coffee he said your name. "What are you doing here?", he asked you. To which you replied with "What do you think Lloyd, I am here to drink coffee.".

He looked around and asked if he could join you for some coffee. "Why would I let you join me Lloyd, you broke my heart, besides I'm actually on a date.". His face fell and as soon as the he started a new scentece, the bell on the door rang again, and in walked your boyfriend, Kai.

The brunet walked over to you and sent a glare to his friend standing next to your table. "Your dating him? I didn't think that you'd moved on already, turns out, your dating one of my bestfriends?!". You huffed and got out of your chair, already a little embarrassed for the comotion you were making in the usually quiet café. "Well Lloyd, I think it's a bit unfair of you to be mad about dating someone else, when you did it too, while we were still dating.".

"You know what, whatever, I'm better of with Harumi anyway.". And the boy walked off with a big sigh. Although you knew he was lying (you did also hear the news about her dissapearance in the whole fight with Garmadon), the words stung a little.

Kai sat down in the chair next to the table and consoled you, as he knew that you were still a little pissed about the whole fiasco. The two of you just walked to your home and played mario kart, which made you feel better because you'd always win anyway.

a/n: i know it's a little short and I'm so so sorry, I might go back and edit it later but for now it's this and I hope you enjoy :) <3

#xreader #whatology #x reader #oneshot #gender neutral reader #lloyd montgomery garmadon #lloyd ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon #ninjago #kai smith

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mimisempai · 3 years

Text

You wearing my clothes is like you wearing a piece of me

Summary:

5 times where Tony wears one of Steve's clothes and once where Steve wears one of Tony's clothes

Nothing more than my daily dose of fluff.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33103516

1971 words - Rating T

As soon as he left the restaurant, Tony felt the bitter cold of winter on his cheeks as if he had just been slapped. He clung to Steve's arm, enjoying the warmth that emanated from him and muttered, "What an idea to walk here, ah that's romantic!"

Steve laughed softly, "A little fresh air is good for the blood circulation and for digestion after a heavy meal."

"A little fresh air, a little fresh air...that's freezing, yes! That's easy to say when you have a super soldier metabolism."

"That's just it, it gives me a chance to warm you up like this," Steve said, putting an arm around his shoulders.

Tony grumbled while enjoying the warmth of Steve's arm around him.

Steve chuckled and hugged him even tighter.

"I'm sorry you're cold love, but I don't understand why you didn't pick up something warmer."

"Sorry I chose elegance over pragmatism!" growled Tony.

Steve laughed louder, placed a kiss on Tony's hair and whispered, "Yet you know you don't need to impress me right?"

"I always want to impress you darling, it's in my nature."

Steve didn't say anything, and they continued to walk for a few minutes. Tony was a little uncomfortable with the way Steve was holding him, but firstly he was too cold to pull away and secondly, he liked Steve's touch too much to want to let go.

After a few minutes, Tony still couldn't get warm and couldn't stop the chills that ran through him, so much so that his teeth began to chatter. Tony clenched his teeth to hide it, but Steve noticed.

"Tony... no need to hide it from me...", Steve said, stopping so suddenly that Tony almost tripped. He opened his jacket, pulled Toni to him and hugged him tightly, closing the jacket over their two entwined bodies.

Tony revelled in the warmth of Steve's body pressed against his.

After five minutes, Tony had warmed up and began to pull away from Steve.

"It's okay, we'll be home soon."

But Steve looked at him worriedly as Tony rubbed his arms, already feeling the cold creeping up on him again.

Tony started to move forward when he felt a warmth on his shoulders as Steve pulled his jacket over his shoulders.

"No Steve, how about you?"

Steve looked at him with a mischievous smile as he opened his arms, "Capsicle to serve you Mr. Stark, I'm not sensitive to the cold. So zip up the jacket and enjoy the warmth."

"Steve," Tony sighed, "I don't deserve you."

"Honestly, I'm the one who wins," Steve replied, adding at Tony's surprised look, "I think you're incredibly adorable when you're wearing my clothes that are three sizes too big for you." he put his arm around Tony's shoulders again.Tony, hid his slightly flushed cheeks in the collar of the jacket as he slipped his arm around Steve's waist.

The warmth that invaded his chest at that moment, owed nothing to the warmth of Steve's jacket.

Half asleep, contemplating his steaming cup of coffee, Tony felt two arms wrap around him from behind and a voice whispered in his ear, "Clothes thief."

"Caught in the act." Tony admitted, not looking at all sheepish as he turned around in the arms around him, before continuing, "How come you're here, weren't you supposed to be coaching the kids?"

"Flu epidemic at the compound, training is cancelled."

"That's too bad." replied Tony, looking not at all sorry.

Steve ran a finger down the collar of the T-shirt Tony had taken from him, "Do you always drink your coffee in my clothes?"

"I wasn't really awake, I grabbed the first thing that was lying around..."

Steve buried his face in Tony's neck and inhaled sharply then stood up, "What was lying around huh...? Whereas this shirt smells like laundry, like you took it out of the dressing room."

"It was lying around in the dressing room." replied Tony, trying to escape Steve's inquisitive gaze.

"So a folded T-shirt on a shelf is a T-shirt that's lying around for you?"

Tony muttered, "I hadn't had my coffee fix yet."

"Oh, I see," Steve said, his hand coming to rest on Tony's bare thigh and slowly moving up.

"Besides, I haven't drunk it yet," Tony retorted, trying to turn around.

"And I think it can wait," Steve whispered as his hand went even higher up under the shirt, making Tony shiver.

"You know I like hot coffee..." protested Tony in a not at all convinced tone as his breath came in short gasps.

"I promise I'll make you a gallon of coffee just the way you like it." whispered Steve against his ear, as his hand moved to Tony's back and continued his tempting caresses.

"I'll just have to give in then..." sighed Tony, as Steve's mouth captured his in a heated kiss, before running his hands under his butt and pulling him against him. Tony wrapped his arms around Steve's neck and tied his legs around his waist.

And as Steve led him toward their bedroom, Tony completely forgot about the cup of coffee cooling on the kitchen counter.

He had done it again.

Tony was wearing one of Steve's clothes again.

And not just any garment. One of his shirts.

Last night they had gone to a charity event, both dressed in tuxedos, and like every time after that kind of evening, they had been exhausted and had undressed as soon as they entered their room, discarding their clothes, without taking care to fold them and put them away.

And this morning, Tony was there, sitting on the couch, dressed in his shirt, only his shirt, his feet curled up under him, a cup of coffee in one hand and his tablet in the other.

He had rolled up the sleeves too long and the white of the shirt's sides contrasted with the skin of Tony's golden thighs.

Steve swallowed. Every time Tony wore one of his clothes, he felt an overwhelming sense of possession.

It was as if Tony was telling him, "I'm yours."

He walked through the kitchen, grabbed himself a cup of coffee before joining Tony on the couch. Absorbed by what he was reading on his tablet, Tony didn't notice him right away. Steve didn't mind, Tony was so engrossed in what he was reading sometimes, that he forgot about the outside world. His genius.

Steve had plenty of time to observe him.

His hair disheveled, even more than usual. His goatee and the stubble on the shaped lines of his chin. The faint blue light emanating through the light white shirt. His thumb, which played whatever music was playing on the tablet.

Steve took a sip of coffee, closing his eyes to savor the burn along his throat.

"Good morning."

When he opened his eyes, Tony had shifted his position and his face was close to his own. He couldn't help but touch it, just to reaffirm the feeling from before. He ran his hand over the back of Tony's neck and tugged him in for a kiss. When Tony pulled back. Steve said just one word, "Mine."

One morning, Tony awoke from a rather traumatic nightmare and was disappointed that Steve was not there. He had become accustomed to his comforting arms around him.

Tony tightened his arms around himself, unable to calm down. He looked around, agitated, when his gaze fell on one of Steve's hoodies lying on a chair.

An old, faded hoodie that Steve used to wear around the house. Tony stood up, took the hoodie in his hands and buried his face in it, the smell of Steve driving away the reminiscent anxiety of his nightmare. Still holding the garment against him, he went back to lie on the bed. It was like being in Steve's arms, without the warmth of his body. He breathed in Steve's scent a few more times and fell back asleep like that, the hoodie tight against him.

As Steve walked through the door of their home, he called softly, "Tony?"

Receiving no answer, he figured Tony must be in his workshop and decided to go to the bathroom to freshen up. He walked past the bedroom and his heart leapt in his chest when he saw Tony, lying on his side in the middle of the bed, sleeping peacefully, with Steve's hoodie pressed against him.

Steve, overwhelmed with emotion, took off his shoes, slowly approached the bed so as not to scare Tony and lay down next to him, his chest against Tony's back and then wrapped his arms around him.

Tony groaned a little, loosened his grip on the hoodie, and slid one of his hands over Steve's locked on his chest. "Steve..."

Steve kissed the back of his neck and whispered, "Go back to sleep my love, I'm here."

As he drifted back to sleep, Tony just thought that nothing could replace the feeling of safety of his lover's arms.

"Tony, you haven't seen m-"

Steve stopped in mid-sentence as he entered the bedroom.

He couldn't hold back a gasp at the sight of Tony in his tank top. And of course Tony chuckled at Steve's reaction, watched with amusement as he grabbed the door frame with his free hand, then let his gaze slide to the way he was biting his lower lip. He approached until they were almost nose to nose, taunting as always. Steve stepped forward as well and couldn't resist, he placed his palms on Tony's chest and slid them over his shoulders and then down his arms highlighted by said tank top.

"You like what you see?" Tony asked, clearly pleased with himself.

"I like it a lot, to the point where I'm thinking I never want to wear it again, it looks so good on you." Steve slipped his hands under the tank top, tracing the muscles revealed by the piece of fabric with his fingertips.

"Really?" Tony moved even closer until their mouths met and they kissed, forgetting everything else, slowly and simply drinking each other in, basking in the warmth of bodies pressed together. When they separated to catch their breath, Tony pretended to remove the tank top, but Steve shook his head and gently pulled the garment down over his lover's stomach.

"Keep it on. It's like my heart, once it's attached to you, it can't belong to anyone else."

"I'm home!"

Tony closed the door behind him and walked into the living room.

Surprised at not receiving a response, he walked over to the couch and couldn't hold back a tender smile at the scene before him.

Steve was sleeping soundly on the couch, his arms wrapped around him, a sweatshirt of Tony's around him, hugging the sleeves.

Tony murmured with a soft smile, "Adorable."

He walked over to the couch, knelt down next to it, level with Steve's head, and placed his hand on Steve's.

Steve startled before he realized what was happening.

"Tony, you're home."

Tony whispered in his ear, "Looks like it."

Steve let out an appreciative grunt, "Come on." he pulled Tony to lie on top of him.

Tony ran a hand through Steve's hair and asked softly, "You okay Love? It's not often you fall asleep like that on the couch."

Steve turned his head into Tony's hand, which had lingered on his cheek, and kissed its palm.

"Now that you're here it's okay. A few reminders of my time in the ice and my personal heater wasn't there, so I made up for it with his sweater. But nothing can replace the warmth you give me."

Tony placed a tender kiss on Steve's lips before laying his head on his chest, "Now I'm here, you'll never be cold again my love."

__________

As always, bear with me as it is not beta'd and english is not my native language I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless🥰

#Established Relationship #Sharing Clothes #domestic fluff #5+1 things #stony #tony stark #steve rogers #tony stark x steve rogers #super husbands

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quillsareswords · 4 years

Text

Breathing Room

Damian Wayne

Of course the little dog here is basically my sweet baby girl Rogue with a different name (Baby/Babe because I'm sure all of you at home have dogs you'd like to substitute names for), who sends all her love and puppy kisses to all of you! Ugh this was fun to write. So goddamn fluffy I could call Build-a-Bear a competitor.

Reader is a Titan.

Requested:

Prompt List // Masterlist (in bio)

"If I die, I'm leaving my dog to you."

Damian turns halfway to give you a suspicious glance over his shoulder. Then, he turns back to the fire place, where he's successfully stoking the flames currently living there.

The animal in question is the next victim of his scrutiny, laying perfectly peacefully on the corner of your blanket that's been left unused on the couch next to you. He points, you nod, he rolls his eyes.

"Awe! What? You wouldn't take my poor baby girl in?" You're borderline incredulous. "Did you hear that Baby? He doesn't love you!"

He scoffs, then pushes himself to his feet and joins you on the couch once more. The little dog lifts her head to look at Damian, almost accusingly.

You pet her gently. "Don't mind him, Baby, he's just jealous because I love you more," you soothe, babytalking the eight pound pooch like the spoiled princess she is.

"Firstly, you aren't going to die, it's only a snow storm," he argues, "and secondly, even if something were to happen, of course I'd take in your large rat."

You gasp and lightly slap his chest. "Damian Wayne!" you shrill. He chuckles loudly. "You take that back right now! Apologize!"

He rolls his eyes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd probably give his spot on the bed to Titus, who's listening to the entire exchange from the giant pillow on the floor. He reaches across you, lays a hand on her little head, and says clearly, "Baby, I am sorry for calling you a rat. You are clearly small not-dog."

You sigh in exasperation and defeat. He laughs, though it's obvious he's trying not to and failing miserably. "What am I going to do with you, you scoundrel?"

His arm lays across your shoulders as you shiver for the second time in the last five minutes. "Well, you can first let me chose what movie we watch since I started the fire for you."

You can't help snuggling closer to him. "Firstly," you mock, "I could have started the fire myself. Secondly, I'll let you pick the movie if you let me pick the genre."

"Deal," he relents.

Two comedies and a horror film later, you hear the front door downstairs unlock, with a roaring chorus of arguing voices behind it.

When Kori and Dick invited you and Damian to a Titans Winter Vacation, you had been a little skeptical. You hadn't been a Titan for very long, and you weren't as familiar as you'd like to be with any of them.

However, you'd known Damian for years, and he insisted it wouldn't be as bad as you thought. He wasn't entirely keen on the idea either, but you'd eventually agreed that it'd be nice.

They'd rented a cabin up in the mountains. It was three stories, with six bedrooms, five bathrooms, two living rooms, a home theater, and a game room. You especially loved the balconies on every level. That provided a truly glorious view of the Smoky Mountains.

Though, when you heard it was six bedrooms, you knew that meant sharing a room. You only really slept alright by yourself or with Damian, so it concerned you that you'd most likely be sharing a bunk bed with Raven, as you and Damian were seventeen. But, because Dick knew you wouldn't be doing anything more than cuddling, he was more than happy to let you and Damian share a queen-size in the loft, directly above Garfield and Jaime's.

To sweeten the deal even further, everyone was in perfect agreement that you should definitely bring your dog. She was very sweet and quiet, and perfectly mannered. You didn't worry about taking her anywhere. It made you feel even better that Damian was taking Titus.

So here you are now, tucked into Damian's side on a plush plaid couch in the loft, Baby curled up next to you and Titus sprawled at your feet, listening to Gar and Raven and Cyborg come shivering in through the front door.

"Holy hell, it's cold as balls!" Gar shouted, kicking off his boots at the door. You were about to call down to ask how town was, but he was already sprinting up the spiral staircase.

Damian sighed, though only loudly enough for you to hear. He thought of the loft in it's entirety as yours, even though the bedroom was an entirely separate room, kept private by a thick door.

Garfield paused by the couch to lean over and pet Babe, which she gladly accepted, before zipping over to the firepalce to warm up.

"How was town?" you ask. Damian grabs the remote and backs out of the movie, which was already rolling credits.

"Eh, it was okay. Grocery store was neat, though. Had a candy section that was lit."

You laugh softly. "Get all the groceries?"

He nods. "Yeah, but their produce section was so confusing."

"Are you sure you aren't just dull?" Damian quips. You roll your eyes and flick his ear as you sit up. "Hey!" he chirps.

"Ha!" Garfield shouts and points boldly, though he looks as though he's about to hurdle the railing behind you. "Damian got in trouble!"

Damian, the tough, mature man he is, flings a pillow toward the green boy with as much force as he can while slouched against the couch back.

"Watch the fire, you dufus," you scold, laughing, as you slide toward the steps with Baby at your heels.

"Ha ha! You got in trouble agaaiinn!" Garfield sings. Then he shrieks, and then there's a green bird diving over the wooden railing and Damian's shouting something that has you scooping up Baby and hustling down the stairs to stay out of his way.

• • •

Your bedroom is dark, and because you both like the curtains pulled away from the floor to ceiling windows overlooking the drop of the mountain your cabin is perched over, it is quite cold.

Too cold for your liking, even pressed against Damian's back and Babe curled into the small of yours.

It's been fifteen minutes of listening to Bob's Burgers play on the television over your shared dresser and the collective body heat still isn't enough. So, in a desperate attempt to chase the chill off, you half unwind your arms from his waist, and slide them under the hem of his tee shirt to press them flat against his side and his back.

While you're sighing in relief, he's jumping and sucking in a breath of absolute shock. He all but gasps, "What are you doing with your ice cold hands up my shirt?"

You almost laugh at the tone of absolute offence he's using. "I'm cold! We can't all keep the same core temperature as the sun, Wayne."

"Well Jesus, you could have at least warned me," he grumbles, rolling in your hold to face you.

You fall asleep pretty quickly now, wrapped up in his arms, legs tangled with yours beneath a heavy quilt.

• • •

You're always the first ones up. Well, not always, but for the past four days that you've been on the trip, you both have. It's usually Damian, and only Damian, but you aren't far behind once your main source of heat leaves you alone in bed with sunlight beaming into the room.

You, Baby, and Titus all follow him down the spiral staircase and through the main common room, dining room, and the intermediate stretch between the two staircases and two bedroom doors.

He turns on the coffee pot for the rest of the team while you start the kettle and set out tea bags and mugs for the two of you. While he's still fiddling with the settlings on the machine, you let the dogs out to the small fenced yard off to the side of the huge cabin.

The machine spurs to life just as you're lifting yourself up onto the countertop of the kitchen island. "Are you gonna make pancakes and eggs?" You keep your voice low, considerate of Raven in the room on the left and Jamie and Garfield in the room on the right, all still sleeping.

"I wasn't planning to," he answers, leaning against the counter by the gas stove, where the steel kettle is still heating up.

"But you promised. . ." You just out your bottom lip and tilt your head just a little, soft eyes oh so slowly grinding away at that steel cover he keeps locked around his heart.

After exactly forty two seconds, he caves in. "Did the Happy Bunch even get the ingredients yesterday?"

Your sweet begging facade switches on a dime, now housing a devious glint in your eyes. "Of course they did, I put it on the list."

He sighs, loudly. He lets the dogs in before he goes around the kitchen, gathering all things necessary for the pancake mix you love so much.

It's twenty minutes later when Kori and Dick are opening the basement door and emerging from the hall downstairs, Kori's hair just as unkept as every morning and Dick's shirt just as wrinkly as the night before.

"Sometimes I think you only love me for my pancakes," Damian chides playfully, having yet to associate the creaking hinges with the basement door.

"I won't deny it," you laugh, grinning down at the bowl you're stirring with more dedication than is probably necessary.

"Damian, I didn't know you cook," Kori states, with enough surprise that you're a little taken aback.

He turns to look at her over his shoulder, still dicing strawberries without looking and making your nerves twitch while he does it. "Only occasionally."

"Hey hey, watch what you're doing, boy," you sound a little too much like someone's grandmother, but you're really a little aghast that he hasn't steeled himself yet.

Damian reserves a certain part of himself around most people. It's a part of him you're allowed to bask in only after years of assurance and affection. You wouldn't be so surprised if it was only shown to Dick, but it was Kori he was speaking to, eyes still a little glittery and smile still lopsided and prominent.

In a moment of adoration and maybe a little pride in him, you hum, "Only for me, of course."

To yours and even Kori's awe, he chuckles. "Only when you force me, you mean."

You recover faster than she does, and cover yourself with a laugh. "I wouldn't call you promising me strawberry-blackberry pancakes forcing you, but if you wanna try and save a little face . . ."

Kori turns to Dick, with a look on her face that is silently asking if he's seen the same thing. His eyes flit between her, you, and his youngest brother, before they settle on you. He seems a little less jarred.

"Gezz, what'd you do, (Y/N)? Drug him in his sleep?"

With Garfield's arrival, Damian's smile fades off and he resumes quickly dicing strawberries on a wooden cutting board.

You mumble into your batter, "I'm starting to wonder."

• • •

At 11:15 in the morning on the sixth day, a war commences.

While you and Damian decide to hide out the still-raging snowstorm in your cozy little loft with your faithful hounds, half the team is out in the snow, hurling handfuls of snow that vaguely resemble spheres at one another from behind artificial snowbanks.

Though eventually, you decide the total war out in the front yard is far more entertaining than anything on his Hulu or Disney+. So, you pop a bowl of popcorn and brew your third batch of tea, and sit backward on the couch to watch out the massive windows that take up most of the front wall of the common room.

Over the porch roof, you can watch all the atrocities of battle play out from the safe warmth of your loft together.

Though, some time around three, Damian reminds you that you have plans to drive into town to explore, and asks if you'd rather stay and finish the battle.

An hour later, you and Damian stand at the front door, dressed to brave the weather, having bid your dogs goodbye as you left them in the warm safety of your bedroom.

Damian's hand is on the doorknob, but he seems hesitant. "Are you ready?"

You flip up your hood and pull your scarf up over your nose. "Yes."

He hauls the door open, and with your hand in his, you quickly cross the porch, jump the steps, and make it halfway around to the driveway, when you hear somebody shout, "Civilians! Open fire on civilians, they're both wicked!"

Damian spins on his heel to threaten the entire group, but you beat him to it when you see Jamie, snowclod wound up, aimed right at you.

Silence falls over the battlefield like the snow still drifting down at an alarming rate.

You point a sharp finger at him. "If you do this, I will never forgive you," you declare lowly. "I swear to every god in existence you'll wake up with your head sewn to the carpet."

He stops. Narrows his eyes. "You're bluffing."

"Am I?"

A moment's debate. You can image the Scarab waving you off with we can take her. But oh, that thing has never seen you with a grudge.

He swivels on his feet and hurls it at Raven, who's been hiding behind the snow that'd been shoveled off the sidewalk that morning.

You take Damian's hand again and make a break for his car.

After the drive to Downtown Gatlinburg and three or four hours spent roaming the streets, you're already talking about living there. In all honesty, he isn't so opposed to the idea of buying a home in the area. You seem so in your element here, and the town and the scenery surrounding you is so breathtaking.

But you know you'd never be able to drag him out of Gotham. Perhaps a vacation home, or maybe retirement.

You decide to stop in to a little cafe in a place called The Village, which is a collection of shops surrounding a lovely courtyard off the main stretch of Downtown.

It's crowed inside, so you decide to stand out by the fountain while you sip your steaming drinks and converse about the little shops you liked best so far. You are particularly fond of a candy shop, and he would very much like to check out a blade shop a block or so down the way.

Your teeth chatter as you talk about wanting a souvenir, something small to keep on a shelf, and finish the rest of your hot chocolate.

"Are you that cold?" his question is simple enough, but his voice is so soft and so drenched in concern it catches you off guard.

You laugh lightly. "I'm okay, just might need another hot chocolate before we set off again," you shrug, jamming your hand into your pocket has he takes the paper cup from you and nods.

"Well, I'm sure that can be arranged." He smiles.

There's something in his eyes, though. It's subtle, in the little wrinkles between his eyebrows, and the redness of his nose and his cheeks. As much as you like the way it looks on his honey crisp complection, it's starting to worry you. Not the blush he gets from the cold's kiss, but the slightly out of character openness he's been exhibiting. You like to think that maybe he's growing out of hiding his louder emotions, for his own sake, but you can't take the risk that it's something else.

He returns to you with an offering of mint hot chocolate. He smiles again when he greets you, and the pair of you set off back toward the sidewalk do a little shopping.

"Hey, Dame?"

"Hm?"

You wind your arm around his elbow with your free hand. "Everything okay with you?"

He turns his full attention on you. "Yes, of course. Why do you ask?"

You take a sip out of your hot chocolate. "I don't know, you've just been acting a little differently the last few days." His eyebrows crease in a worried way, and you get the sense he's disappointed. "In a good way, I mean," you correct yourself quickly, "I just want to be sure it isn't for a bad reason."

He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. You turn out onto the sidewalk, and start making your way farther up the street. "No, there isn't anything wrong," he assures. "I can't exactly explain it, which I'm not entirely okay with, but it's been. . . nice, this trip. The land is beautiful, the air is much cleaner than in Gotham, the people here are nice." He turns to face you again. "And you seem a lot more comfortable with the Titans. I'm glad; I'd feared you wouldn't bond with them at all, truthfully, and they're all far more bearable with you around."

You nod as he speaks, eyes jumping past him to the signs on the building fronts every once in a while. There's something he isn't saying, and you know it.

"And. . ." He sighs. "And you."

You pass him a quizzically quirked brow.

His voice lowers and he lays a hand over yours on his arm. "I love you so much, (Y/N). I can't even find the right words anymore."

Your eyes lock with his and you stop walking. Your lips part because your jaw goes a little slack, and your wide eyes reflect all the neon colors of the signs in the window on your right.

It isn't the first time he says he loves you. And you know it won't be the last, but he hardly ever says it so freely. It always behind closed doors in the softest moments, when you're both vulnerable or so drunk on love for one another neither of you can think straight.

You can't remember the last time he's been so open about in in front of anyone else, and it only ripens your concern.

You pull him closer, eyebrows slanting together. "Damian, I'm serious, are you okay?"

Now he's the one with one eyebrow reaching for answers. "Pardon?"

"I'm sorry," you blurt, "you know I love you from here clear to Alpha Centauri but you're really starting to worry me."

He laughs at that. Then, his eyes are as soft as his smile, and his hands smooth down the sides of your arms before they rest on your forearms. "(Y/N), I promise you there is nothing wrong with me now that hasn't been for the past seven years. Am I not allowed to let once in a little while, and allow myself a little breathing time?"

You hadn't realized you were so tense until you relax under his touch with the assurance. "Of course you are," you reply after a pause. You take one hand off your hot chocolate to rest it on his chest, coincidentally over his heart. "I just worry sometimes. I don't want anything to happen to you, Dame."

"I know," he says. He gingerly takes the paper cup from you and sets it on the bench you hadn't noticed before. He pulls you into his arms, enveloping you in a warmth like sunshine and a scent that's too particular to Damian Wayne to be mistaken. Your arms wind inside his open coat to the hoodie he's wearing underneath.

A long moment passes in relative silence. Your eyes are closed, ears perked to the drifting sounds of uncaring passersby and the rumbling of passing cars.

"I really want to slip my hands under your shirt right now," you mumble into his shoulder. "But if you tell me not to, I won't."

He grunts.

And for a moment, you ponder weather or not that was a denial. You silently make your choice and close your eyes again.

He leaps under your touch. "Damn it, (Y/N)!"

#damian wayne blurb #damian wayne headcannon #damian wayne imagine #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne #teen titan reader

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simpinforyoongi · 4 years

Text

Shameless ~

Yoongi x reader

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Angst, (a lot of it)

Warnings: none

Summary: After coming back from Yoongi's studio heartbroken, you decide to scribble your thoughts down on paper, like you've done so many times. What you didn't know was how that little poem would led to your worst heartbreak yet.

Note: Heyy guys! So i just wanted to say that this one is heavily inspired by @krreader 's fic Jealousy and you can treat it like a sequel to hers (but mine ends in angst too and I've changed a few things up). Like you wouldn't believe how much i cried when i read hers amd i just couldn't not write it!! AnYWaYS, enjoy!!

• • • • • • •

"Can i go? "

"Go wherever you want hyung, why are you asking me??" Namjoon answered as he put on his winter boots to prevent the cold chilly November winds from freezing his feet.

"No i meant...I want to go..to her.." Yoongi's voice was unnaturally small and feeble, contradicting his usual deep tone.

Namjoon jerked up, standing straight suddenly.

"But hyu-"

"Please Namjoon, I know you care deeply for her, and don't want her to get hurt anymore because of me but I just.."

Namjoon instantly started shaking his head no,

"No no hyung, go, all that happened, i know you didn't mean it to." He gave the older man a small smile "I'll let her know."

"NO! No, she, " Yoongi said with wide eyes, "She won't even open the door if she knows it's me."

"Oh right haha lol ok uh.. I won't call her then" Namjoon says fidgeting awkwardly, almost wanting to say something, but when he saw Yoongi looking at the door with a certain amount of longing, mixed with regret, guilt, fear and everything in between, he decided it was worth a shot.

"Hyung, i know you love her," They held eye contact and Namjoon continued, "and if I'm not wrong, she loves you too. And she's been hurting, for long, just like you and even longer, actually. I know I'm younger than you, but i gotta say this. don't fuck it up."

Namjoon looked down for a moment before looking back up with a sincere smile, "Best of luck! Fighting!" and with that, Yoongi left for your apartment without any bodyguards, without anything at all because that was a risk he had to take.

---

You were still in bed, Namjoon had called earlier saying he's coming, and to be honest you actually wanted him to come. You needed someone to talk to, and he was the best person for that. You were completely undercovers, and came out only when it became too difficult to breathe in the carbon dioxide that gathered inside your little blanket-bubble.

It had been two weeks since the breakup, and you had even visited them in the meantime because you were strong, and knew how to keep your emotions in control when in front of others, despite the fact that you were about to breakdown any moment. You had cooped yourself up in your little apartment for way too long and your loving friends, aka members of Bangtan had dragged you back to their apartment, even though they knew it was dangerous considering the fact that the cause of all your pain was right there. But there wasn't much they could do and places they could go because, well, they're like only the biggest boy group on Earth. So you went there, insisting you were fine.

But you weren't.

Realllyy weren't.

But once the question left his lips, you knew it was over for you. This, this facáde was instantly crushed when he asked the question.

You had been playing "Truth and Dare" because no matter how sucky you were feeling, you just couldn't seem to say no to the three pairs of puppy eyes that you received. And that landed you in a somewhat boring, somewhat funny game of Truth and Dare, and even though he was there, you seemed to have fun until he asked you that question.

"Do you love someone else now?" and it was something you never in a million years had expected.

So you sat there, completely dumbfounded, much like the rest of the group, at the question that had left Yoongi's lips. And you just, couldn't do anything.

But shortly, anger bubbled up inside you.

How dare he accuse you of loving someone else when you were literally on the verge of just ripping your heart out? How dare he accuse you like that when he was the one who broke up with you? How dare he ask you that when he hadn't even given you enough time to speak before he started yelling at you that day?? How dare he??

"How dare you?" And that's all that seemed to leave your mouth before you stood up and stumbled out of the dorm with everyone except him calling after you.

Another tear escaped as you remembered the happenings of the day. But before you could wail in your sorrow any more, a bell rung throughout your apartment.

You stood up and walked to the door with tears still decorating your cheeks,

Finally Joon is here.

You felt like you could breath better for a second but all wind was knocked from your lungs when your eyes landed upon the face that stood in front of you.

Yoongi..

With a black mask and cap, and covered completely in winter clothes, there he stood in all his wintery glory, and you still knew it was him despite only his eyes being visible, that too, partly visible.

You felt your heart constrict and your rib cage felt too small now. A brand new bolt of pain jolted up your sides, almost as if physical, and striked your heart with such force you wouldn't be surprised if you had a heart attack then and there. But you didn't, you stood there, watching him, and he stood there ,watching you.

It wasn't until you shivered from the cold winds hitting your body which was bare of any winter clothing, that you jumped back into reality.

"Do you mind if I..." He trailed off, but you moved aside letting him in. He had expected a much harsher reaction, after all, he did throw some extremelt hurtful and lewd accusations at you that day. But he was grateful you didn't close the door in his face, or throw the little dried up potted plant at him. He took that as a good sign, but with you, everything wasn't as simple.

He took off his coat and hung them on the rack beside the shoe cabinet, before pulling off his boots and keeping them aside. Then he followed you into the living room.

"Coffee??" You questioned while preparing some. He wasn't sure if he wanted one, he opened and closed his mouth for a few seconds, and finally settled on a yes.

A few beats passed in complete silence, before you joined him and handed him a simple black coffee and took a seat on the single sofa opposing him.

Another few moments passed

"You still remember," he said motioning to the coffee in his hands

"It's not that hard to remember two ingredients, Suga. Besides, it's been just two weeks."

His heart shattered when you said that, firstly, on hearing 'Suga' instead of the usual 'Yoongs' or 'Yoongles' that you called him, especially because you knew he pretended to hate, but actually loved it. Hell he would've been more happy to be addressed by his full name, Min Yoongi, rather than Suga. And secondly, because of the small and almost inaudible, crack that he heard in your voice towards the end of the sentence.

You still didn't know why exactly you were so calm and not driving him out of your home. It was as if everything stopped mattering for a moment

"Two weeks. Yea," he finally spoke, eyes not quite meeting yours.

A few moments passed in complete and utter silence.

"I didn't know you wrote lyrics too." Ah yes, the song that Namjoon was producing, you had helped him with the lyrics. Not as much as helped actually, you had just randomly written some words and sentences and somehow he noticed it. He said it fit perfectly with the previous verse he had written and asked if he could use the whole poem in his song. You were completely flabbergasted and thought he was kidding, or perhaps pitying you, but after a lot of convincing, he told you he wasn't. And you told him he could, that's why you were in the professional studio in the first place. Another reason why Yoongi misunderstood you, but it was in no way Namjoon's fault. And Yoongi knew that.

"I didn't. It was supposed to be a poem. He saw it by accident." You yourself were pretty surprised at how calm you were.

"But.. I thought i read all your poems..?" his voice had a questioning tone to it.

"You did.. It was recent.." It indeed was recent. Painfully recent. You had written it just the night before, after coming back from Yoongi's studio without even talking to him properly, because he had, and i quote "a shitton of work to do" . Shit ton of work, with her. That completely broke your heart into a million pieces. You thought it couldn't break any further but you were terribly wrong. That was when you wrote it.

The poem was about, well, you guessed it, heartbreak; loneliness. Something about empty bed sides, lost warmth, tear streaked pillows, you couldn't fully remember. Your mind had been hanging like a 2005 Dell Laptop because of all the crying.

"When?"

"That night after i came back from your studio." You smiled a little, even if your insides were aching, "speaking of that, hows the production going?"

"Oh it's.. going well I suppose." He looked immensely intrigued by his cup of coffee,

You again smiled.

"Yea, you looked...quite happy." You took a sip of your own coffee, before looking out the window. Frosty winds were blowing, it was getting darker by the minute. It looked...serene.

But Yoongi was having none of this serenity,

"Happy? What...do you mean?" His voice had a sudden change of colour. But this question had your heart clenching and unclenching at a rapid, unhealthy rate.

"You and Suran." You finally croaked out, "You looked happy..with her. It was.. a sight for sore eyes, really." Earlier, whenever you even remotely thought about this, your eyes turned to waterfalls, but now, they seemed dry of any excessive moisture.

Yoongi was dumbfounded. He and Suran?

"What do you mean me and Suran? I'm just helping her!" He semi-yelled, but you didn't flinch like you did last time.

"I know that."

"But what did you mean by happy... wait...did you think we...oh my god." He slumped down back to his seat, coffee long forgotten on the coffee table.

"Y/n why didn't you tell me that?? Why didn't you tell me what you were feeling?? Why di-"

"I DID!!" You finally broke and yelled out with tears streaming down your eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

"I did tell you!!! I texted you a thousand times!! But you didn't read any of those. I called you a thousand times but i was always directed to voicemail. And the times that you did actually listen to me you had the same excuse every time. 'Im just helping her.' I know that Yoongi, I freaking.know. But what do you expect me to think when you cancelled evey date the past three months?? When the smile that you usually had when you were with me, could only be seen when you were with her?? When the way that you looked at her, the way that you smiled at her, the way that you admired every little thing she did completely resembled the way only a lover would. What did you expect me to do, when i felt like you were her mentor, her idol, her Min yoongi, not my...not my..." You couldn't finish the sentence before you completely bursted out in tears.

And as you sobbed uncontrollably, Yoongi was left to think about what you had said. And as he recalled everything he realized that none of your words were wrong.

The fact that he had ignored you so freaking much despite you being so patient with him hit him like a truck and he started spiralling into a dark deep hole of guilt and regret when you suddenly-

"Leave."

He was shocked back to his senses.

"Y/n wha-"

"I said. Leave. " You said as you stood up on lightly trembling feet and started walking towards the door.

"Y/n just listen to me give me a chance to expl-"

"Did YOU give me a chance to fuckin' explain??!! Did you even let me SPEAK when i was begging in front of you to calm down?! No. So leave."

Your heart was pounding at such an extreme rate that you feared he'd hear it and realize, that he was still your weakness. And you couldn't let that happen.

"Suga. I'm asking you to leave." With a shaking hand you opened the door and stood aside.

"Y/n please jus-"

"Are you that shameless?!"

That effectively shut him up. Just as you expected. As he finally left with a wounded heart, you slammed the door and slid down to the floor, trembling with quiet sobs.

"Are you that shameless?? That you finally resorted to seducing one of my brothers?? What else did you do huh y/n? Did you try your luck with Jungkook too?? Oh and what about Taehyung?!"

"Hyung it isn't what it looks like. Just listen to-" Namjoon spoke, trying to calm him down but to no avail.

"Namjoon just...just stay out of it. I just can't believe she'd do this to me. I can't freaking believe she'd cheat on me with yo-"

"Yoongi stop it!" You yelled while crying as you stood in front of the man you loved and who apparently loved you too.

"Why y/n? Why should i stop?? Just so you can go behind my back again? Just so you can break my heart again? Just so tha-"

"Can you pleeasee just let me speak Yoongi. I was here because -"

"Enough! Enough of your lies! I really can't believe you out of all people would do this to me. We're done y/n. We're freaking done." And with that, he stomped out of the studio, leaving you a crying, heartbroken mess.

♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪ ♪

#yoongifics #bts fanfictions #bts yoongi #bts fics #bts #bts scenarios #bts suga #suga angst #yoongi angst #yoongi texts #yoongi fanfic #army network #armysource #bangtan network

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sexyrasputin · 5 years

Text

rose continues

Rose woke up to warmth and a heavy arm around her midsection, someone's head nestled against her neck. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened, especially with the type killer hangover she had, but it was the first time she actually felt, you know, comfortable. Something about the mysterious guy holding her close against him felt safe and warm and comfortable, and that low-key scared Rose. She wasn't used to feeling comfortable with anyone, and while she knew deep down that that was why she was so physical, she was seeking comfort, that didn't mean she ever expected to find it. Especially with a stranger whose bed she had ended up in.

Trying to glance over her shoulder was a mistake waiting to happen with Rose's headache, so she tried to gently bring her elbow back into this guy's stomach. Firstly, he had rock hard and. Secondly, he slept like a stone. So she elbowed him for real this time.

"What the-" He cut himself off when he realized that she had elbowed him.

"What is wrong with you, Rose?" the stranger, whose husky voice was dangerously sexy, asked. He knew her name, though, which implied she knew his. Or had known it last night, at least. The night that Rose couldn't remember after roughly eleven. A glance at his bedside table told her it was 9:37 am. Great. Ten and a half hours of blankness. Again. At least it wasn't as bad as that one time with the weird Greg dude who was definitely more arrogant than he was sexy.

"We won't get into what's wrong with me quite yet, handsome stranger." Slowly, oh so slowly, Rose turned over to face him, groaning and grunting in pain all the while. Catching sight of his face confirmed her suspicions. He was as hot as a Greek god, just like his voice implied.

The man sighed, well, it was that or a groan. Hungover Rose couldn't quite tell, but at least his room was dark. That helped the headache.

"Do you even remember my name?"

"Nope. Hence the handsome stranger. Speaking of, handsome stranger, do you have coffee and Advil? I need gallons of both. Stat." The man sat up with a frustrated groan, finally taking his warm arm off of Rose's waist. She refused to ever admit this aloud, but she didn't like the cold absence he left behind.

"I'll get you water and Advil, but I don't drink coffee." His grumbled words would usually have earned a cry of disgust, but Rose's pounding head was inhibiting her reactions.

"Fine. Be that way." She folded her arms over her chest, and her petulance earned a hard core glare.

"Seriously, Rose? I took care of you all night, followed your every request, brought you home even when I really shouldn't have, and now you're complaining? I really should have seen this coming." His loud voice rang through her ears, causing her to wince and cover them.

"Don't act like you know me, dude. And please, lower your voice. I'm pretty sure I drank the entire minibar last night." But his laugh was knowing, as if he did know her, even though Rose knew she had never met him before last night in her entire life. She'd remember a face as handsome as that.

"My name's Zed, by the way," he growled before exiting, slamming the bedroom door behind him. Rose collapsed further into the delightfully soft pillows with a groan. This was not working out well for her.

A few minutes later, Zed returned with a water bottle, some pills, and the clothes she had worn the night before.

"Here. Get dressed. I'm taking you home." He threw the water to her, which hit the bed next to her arm, closely followed by the pill bottle and her clothes. Whatever she had done to upset this man, Rose had a feeling it wasn't nearly as grave as he thought.

"Fine, but stop being such a grump about it. Thanks for not raping me, but it's not every day a girl wakes up in some rando's bed when hadn't slept with him the night before." With a pained sigh, Rose forced herself up and out of bed. She ditched Zed's t-shirt and pulled on her own clothes and sky high heels that she wasn't sure how she walked in when wasted. Maybe that was why she always stumbled so much. After taking the Advil and downing half the water bottle, Rose directed her glare back to the annoyingly hot Zed.

"Take me home then, sir Zed of the land of Pricks. I'm waiting on you now."

Rose knew this guy was hot. She knew she should have slept with him when she had the chance. But she also didn't want to leave things on a bad note. Despite the fact that she didn't know Zed at all and never wanted to see him again, Rose had felt weirdly safe and comfortable around him. She'd felt some semblance of peace for the first time in years. And that honestly terrified her. Which was probably why she was being so mean, and definitely why she kept telling herself to shut up for the entire ride home. She didn't remember the night before really at all, but she woke up feeling safe and peaceful in the arms of a stranger. Who wouldn't be scared after that? Whoever wouldn't be, well, they were much stronger than Rose could ever be. Because even though Rose wasn't afraid of death, she was crazy afraid of just about everything good in her life.

#zagreus and rose

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