#- questions. which didn’t really bother me he just had no tact. like he looked at my chest and went you’ll probably be fine with keyhole

[callixton]

i adore my department head to death but i do wish she wasn’t so transphobic. hurts sometimes

[silvokrent]

Ennui - 1

ennui /ɒnˈwiː/ n. a gripping listlessness or melancholy caused by boredom; depression.

“You wanted to see me?”

Lily of the Valley Island wasn’t a secluded place by any means. Even in the lull between tournament seasons, the city was regularly inundated by locals and tourists. Not to the same claustrophobic degree as the actual competition, but enough that the more paranoid folks tended to keep a close eye on their wallet, lest it vanish amidst a crowd.

Of course, that could have been Flint’s childhood bias talking. The instinctive wariness of pickpockets had never quite faded with age.

Cynthia didn’t acknowledge him as he approached, though at the question, she redirected her gaze from the escarpment below. Dense swaths of foliage lined the cliffs where they descended toward the city, and beyond, the bleach-white sand. If Flint squinted, he could just barely make out the shapes of people and Pokémon milling about the streets.

“I did.” She waited until Flint moved to her side before she continued: “I’m sorry for the abruptness. I hope I didn’t interrupt anything?”

Flint shrugged. “A spar with Aaron, but that can be rescheduled.” It might have been less inconvenient if she had requested they meet in her office, rather than some remote trail an hour’s hike from the city. But tact (and the knowledge that she signed his paychecks) waylaid that particular comment. Flint settled on a more diplomatic reply. “I don’t mind. It’s a nice day.”

There was a look in Cynthia’s eyes, a shrewdness he was a bit too familiar with. “It is a nice day,” she agreed, in a vague, pleasant sort of tone. A pause, before she gestured with her hand. “Would you take a walk with me?”

Flint recognized the invitation for the tacit order that it was; one which he was smart enough not to decline. “As you like.”

Cynthia’s smile widened a fraction. Her hair fanned out behind her as she turned and set off down the footpath at an easy stroll, not waiting to see if he’d follow. Flint did, of course, falling in step beside her a moment later.

The humidity was oppressive. Not that Flint was particularly bothered by it—heat was sort of an occupational hazard when you trained Fire-types—but he could feel the combined weight of heat and water vapor starting to seep into his collar. If Cynthia minded, it didn’t show on her face. The gradual downturn of her lips, as she studied the path with a faraway expression—that he did notice.

Curiosity was beginning to overtake his sense of apprehension. Flint fisted his hands in his pockets, and let out a low whoosh of air. “So. What is it that you don’t want anyone to overhear?”

The smile briefly flickered across her face, if a little subdued. “I am sorry for the inconvenience,” she said, at last. “I wouldn’t waste your time on something that wasn’t important.”

“Figured. Wouldn’t call this a waste of my time, either.” Flint rolled his shoulder. “Off-the-books isn’t usually your style.”

Cynthia regarded him out of her periphery. “Under normal circumstances, no. But I’d prefer to handle this informally, not through official channels.”

Flint suppressed a snort. “Less paperwork to file?”

Cynthia’s pace slowed. “Less a chance of damaging someone’s career,” she murmured.

He raised a brow, but didn’t comment.

“It’s a little sudden,” she said, as she brushed a strand of hair from her face, “but I’d like you to conduct an investigation for me, regarding one of the Gyms. Ideally within the next day or two, but the sooner you’re able to depart, the better.”

That piqued his interest.

“Not that I’m objecting”—not that Flint really could; contractual obligations and such—“but isn’t that the sort of thing you usually send Lucian to handle?”

Cynthia lapsed into momentary silence. He got the impression that she was choosing her words rather carefully. “And if I sent Lucian, he would handle the matter as he usually does, would he not?”

Flint winced. “Right,” he muttered. “Off-the-books.”

Cynthia nodded. “Right now, I need discretion.” Her eyes slid shut. “Not that I would blame Lucian, given the circumstances.”

Cryptic wasn’t really her style, either, and it was starting to chafe his patience.

“If things were different,” Cynthia continued, very pointedly cutting him across before he could interrupt, “I would go myself. But I think your presence is needed over mine.”

“Can I at least know where you’re sending me?” Flint asked.

Abruptly, Cynthia stopped and turned to face him. She held his gaze, unbothered by the glare he leveled at her.

“Sunyshore,” she said.

The reply shocked him into silence.

It took longer than Flint would’ve liked to remember how to string words together. When he finally did, they were halting. “Is something wrong with Volkner?”

By way of explanation, Cynthia reached into the folds of her black coat. “Two days ago, there was a massive city-wide blackout. As I understand it, the overload not only took out the grid, but it disabled the city’s backup generator. It took six hours for the engineers to get it under control.” Flint was unresisting as she passed him the tablet, and his eyes darted over the screen. Assessment of PV System Activity. “When they eventually isolated the source, it was the Sunyshore Gym. Since then, twelve different residents have filed complaints with the League.”

—due to sudden, significant drop in voltage. Electric-type Pokémon were temporarily dispatched to supplement power to critical systems, until tie-line with another network was established—

Reluctantly, Flint pulled his attention away from the report. “How many people in the League know about this?”

“Two.” Cynthia folded her arms behind her back. “And both of them are standing right here.”

His frown deepened. “How has the committee not found out?”

“I was able to intercept the complaints. For now, I’d like to keep it that way. As for your other question…” Cynthia sighed. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Only when his fingers started to hurt did Flint register his grip on the tablet. He glanced back down at the screen, as if it could somehow provide him the clarity he lacked. “Why would his Gym be draining that much power?”

“That’s what I'd like you to find out.” The sea breeze whipped her hair as she faced the cliffside. “Sunyshore supplies electricity to every city east of Mount Coronet. If another outage like this happens, half the region could go dark.” She studied him out of the corner of her eye. “When was the last time you spoke to Volkner?”

She had an uncanny talent for making someone feel like she was dissecting them with her gaze. If nothing else, it made him all the more vividly aware of the shirt now sticking to his back. “Four months ago, give or take. I was visiting some family back home, and we decided to catch up. Grab lunch.”

Cynthia made a noncommittal noise. “Nothing seemed out of the ordinary?”

“Not that I could tell,” he admitted. If she was disappointed by that answer, she gave no indication of it. “He hasn’t returned any of my calls recently, but I chalked that up to him being busy.”

A deep, uncomfortable silence descended between them.

“Volkner has held his position for years,” Cynthia said, almost to herself. “Nearly a decade without an incident. If I hadn’t read the report with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have believed it.”

It was irrational, and Flint knew she would never, but he couldn’t escape the feeling that Cynthia was somehow blaming him for whatever this was. A small, mutinous part of him wondered if he wasn’t projecting.

His jaw tightened, as he forced out a breath that did nothing to put him at ease. “What do you need me to do?”

“Talk to him. Find out why this happened.” Her eyes narrowed against the wind. “Incidents like this are seldom accidents. Nor are they isolated. This can’t become a pattern.”

Flint gave a sharp nod.

“I can keep this hushed for now, but not indefinitely. The committee will eventually notice if there are more severe outages. More complaints. They won’t take kindly to a trainer—let alone a member of the League—causing damage on this scale.” She turned the full weight of her stare onto him. “You understand what I’m saying, Flint.”

License revocation.

Flint tried not to dwell on the unpleasant thoughts those words conjured. “I do.”

“Good.” She accepted the tablet as he handed it back to her. “Since this is rather time sensitive, I’d like you to leave as soon as you can. Flying would be the fastest option. You’re welcome to borrow my Togekiss.”

“Give me an hour to pack, and I’ll take you up on it.” He went to move away, only to still when Cynthia rested a hand on his shoulder.

“I know you’re upset.” Her expression softened. “And I know he’s your friend. Keep me posted, and I’ll do what I can.”

Several different things occurred to him that he could say, none of them remotely helpful or reassuring.

When words eventually failed him, Flint shut his jaw with an audible click of teeth. The best he could manage was a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, as he politely extricated himself from her touch. Not waiting to see her reaction, he turned on his heel and started to backtrack as quickly as the uneven terrain would allow.

You understand what I’m saying.

He didn’t. And he wasn’t sure he wanted to.

[anonymousewrites]

A Study of the Heart and Brain (Book 1) Chapter One

Chapter One: New Roommate

            “So…” said Molly hesitantly as she watched Sherlock examine his slide in the microscope. “What are you investigating today?”

            Sherlock, lost in his mind palace, didn’t respond. When Molly looked to (Y/N), they just shrugged and answered, “Dunno. I was just bored at the apartment so followed him here.”

            “Ah, well, alright then,” said Molly. She walked off to check on her own work, nervously checking her appearance in a nearby mirror as she passed (she had put on lipstick to try to look better for Sherlock, but he hadn’t seemed impressed).

            A knock sounded at the research office’s door, and two men walked in. One (Y/N) recognized as Mike, an acquaintance of Sherlock, and the other they didn’t. They glanced at his appearance as he stood and looked around the room and made their observations:

            Army doctor, Afghanistan or Iraq. Psychosomatic limp. Here to be our roommate? Possible. Sherlock mentioned it to Mike earlier.

            “Well, a bit different from our day,” said the man, glancing around at all of the equipment.

            “You’ve no idea,” joked Mike.

            Sherlock, without looking up, said, “Mike, can I borrow your phone? There’s no single on mine or (Y/N)’s.”

            “What’s wrong with the landline?” asked Mike.

            “He prefers to text,” said (Y/N), taking their lollipop out of their mouth to respond clearly. (Sherlock had his weaknesses; they had theirs. They almost always had a lollipop with them. If they didn’t, they got bored and distracted)

            Mike shrugged. “Sorry, it’s in my coat.”

            “Er, here.” The new guy pulled his phone from his pocket. “Use mine.”

            Sherlock was still for a moment as his eyes traced over the man and gathered information. “Oh. Thank you.” He took the phone.

            “This is an old friend of mine, John Watson,” said Mike.

            “Afghanistan or Iraq?” asked Sherlock absently as he typed on the phone.

            John frowned. “Sorry?”

            “Which was it: Afghanistan or Iraq?” repeated (Y/N), looking at John.

            “Afghanistan…” John furrowed his brow. “Sorry, how did you…?”

            He was interrupted from getting an answer as Molly walked back in carrying coffee for Sherlock.

            “Ah, Molly, coffee, thank you,” said Sherlock. He handed John’s phone back and took a sip of the coffee. Sherlock cocked his head. “What happened to the lipstick?”

            Molly smiled awkwardly. “It wasn’t working for me.”

            “Really? I thought it was big improvement. Your mouth’s too small now,” said Sherlock with his usual lack of tact.

            “Okay,” replied Molly, disappointed at her crush not liking her attempt to look good for him. She walked away to console herself with some chocolate ((Y/N) had seen her do it several times by now)

            “How do you feel about the violin?” Sherlock asked John.

            “I’m sorry, what?” John was growing more and more confused the more he was in the room with (Y/N) and Sherlock (first he had wondered why Mike took him to the hospital, then why he was in the morgue, then why there was a random teenager and man there, why the man knew he was a military man, and now why he was being asked such a random question).

            “I play the violin when I’m thinking. Sometimes I don’t talk for days. Would that bother you?” asked Sherlock.

            “I join him occasionally,” added (Y/N). Seeing John’s confused face, (Y/N) said, “Potential flatmates should know the worst about each other.”

            “Oh, so you told them about me?” asked John to Mike.

            Mike grinned. “Not a word.”

            “Then who said anything about flatmates?” questioned John.

            “I did. Told Mike this morning that we must be the most difficult people to find a flatmate for. Now here he is just after lunch with an old friend, clearly just home from Afghanistan,” said Sherlock.

            “Not a difficult leap,” said (Y/N).

            “How did you know about Afghanistan?” repeated John.

            Sherlock ignored him and put on his coat. (Y/N) pulled their purple sweater on over their grey shirt. “He has his eye on a nice little place in central London. Together we can afford it,” they said, throwing away their finished lollipop. They unwrapped another as they hopped down from the table and followed Sherlock to the door.

            “We’ll meet their tomorrow evening: seven o’clock. Sorry, gotta dash. I think I left my riding crop in the mortuary,” said Sherlock.

            “Is that it?” asked John.

            “Is that what?” Sherlock raised an eyebrow.

            “We’ve only just met and we’re gonna go and look at a flat?”

            “Why not?” remarked (Y/N). “Hard to find flatmates, might as well make this easier on ourselves.”

            “We don’t know a thing about each other. I don’t know where we’re meeting or even what your names are,” said John.

            “We know your an army doctor who’s been sent home from Afghanistan due to injury,” offered (Y/N).

            “And you have a brother who’s worried about you, but you won’t go to him for help because you don’t approve of him—possibly because he’s an alcoholic, more likely because he just walked out on his wife,” said Sherlock. “I know your therapist thinks your leg is psychosomatic—quite correctly I’m afraid.” Sherlock grinned. “That’s enough to be going on, don’t you think?”

            “The address is 221B Baker Street,” said (Y/N). “I’m (Y/N) (L/N).”

            “And I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

            And with that, the two were out the door.

            John blinked and looked at Mike. “An odd father and kid.”

            “They’re not related,” said Mike.

            John frowned. “Really?”

            “Sherlock just took (Y/N) in a year or two back,” said Mike.

            “Doesn’t seem like the type,” said John.

            “No, he doesn’t, does he?” asked Mike. “Sometimes I wonder how and why it’s lasted so long.” He shrugged. “Let me know if you figure it out. You’re the one who’ll be living with them.”

l

            “Well, this could be nice. Very nice,” said John the next day as he looked around the flat with Sherlock and (Y/N). It was cluttered with stacks of books and other miscellaneous from the pair.

            “I like it,” said (Y/N), flopping down onto the couch while Mrs. Hudson smiled fondly (she liked the teen and tried to give her the guidance and safe space that children all deserve).

            “Yes, I think so,” said Sherlock. “So we went ahead and moved straight in.”

            “As soon as we get this rubbish cleaned out…oh,” said John at the same time.

            An awkward silence descended before (Y/N) shrugged from the sofa. “We’ll straighten up later.”

            “Is that a skull?” asked John in disbelief.

            “Uhuh, it’s a friend of ours,” said (Y/N).

            “Well, what do you think, Doctor Watson?” questioned Mrs. Hudson. “There’s another bedroom upstairs for you. (Y/N) and Sherlock have taken the ones down here.” She tutted as she looked around. “Oh, goodness, look at the mess they’ve made.” She shook her head and began straightening shelves and bustling about.

            “I looked you up on the internet last night, Sherlock,” said John, sitting down in an ar(Y/N)hair and resting his cane beside him.

            “Anything fun?” asked (Y/N).

            “Found his website: The Science of Deduction,” said John. He looked incredulous and slightly disbelieving. “You said you can identify a software designer by his tie and a pilot by his thumb.”

            “We got your military career in your face and leg, and Sherlock got your brother’s drinking habit from your phone,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            “I suppose you did. I still don’t know how you did that, though,” remarked John. (Y/N) smiled mischievously.

            “What about these suicides, you two? I thought that’d be right up your alley,” said Mrs. Hudson, finishing with her insistent cleaning of the kitchen. “Three exactly the same…”

            “Four,” said (Y/N) from where they lay. They pointed to the open window where red and blue flashing lights reflected in the glass. “They’re finally going to ask someone who can solve this.”

            Sherlock glanced down. “Graham is looking serious. Something’s different about this one.” (Y/N) hummed in acknowledgment.

            Lestrade entered the room. “Where?” asked Sherlock.

            “Brixton, Lauriston Gardens,” said Lestrade.

            “What’s new about it?” asked (Y/N), looking at him upside down.

            “You know how they never leave a note? This one did,” said Lestrade. “You coming?”

            “Who’s on forensics?” asked Sherlock.

            “Anderson,” responded Lestrade.

            (Y/N) let out an exasperated sigh. “He won’t work with us,” said Sherlock.

            “If this is about him complaining that a teenager shouldn’t be at crime scenes, then you have to admit he has a point,” said Lestrade.

            “They’re smarter than Anderson,” said Sherlock, rolling his eyes. “We’ll come, but not in a police car. And (Y/N) is non-negotiable.”

            A small smile flashed across (Y/N)’s face. They would never say it aloud, but a large part of them saw Sherlock as a father figure. Obviously, Sherlock wouldn’t feel the same since sentimentality hindered logic, but (Y/N)’s heart couldn’t help but swell with pride whenever he complimented their work or wanted them around since they did a good job.

            On the other hand, while (Y/N)’s thoughts were a little more conflicted, John’s immediate conclusion was this: Ah, they’re a father and kid and don’t even know it. I’m rooming with emotionally-stunted idiots.

            Lestrade sighed and nodded before leaving. Sherlock grinned and began jumping around.

            “Brilliant! Yes! Ah, four serial suicides, and now a note! It’s Christmas!” He grabbed (Y/N) and pulled them to their feet.

            “Mrs. Hudson, it looks like we’ll be late. We might need some food,” said (Y/N) as they grabbed a lollipop.

            “I’m your landlady, not your housekeeper,” said Mrs. Hudson. “But Lord knows how you’d get fed if I didn’t make you something.” She sent a scathing glare to Sherlock. “Have you been making sure they eat?”

            “Yes, I wouldn’t want my protégé to be malnourished. Not good for a growing mind,” said Sherlock.

            Mrs. Hudson nodded approvingly. “Good.” She walked off to decide what to make.

            Sherlock paused by the door as John settled into his chair to wait for them to return. “You were in the army, correct?”

            “Yes.”

            “Seen a lot of horrendous deaths?”

            “Yes.”

            “Enough to fill a lifetime?”

            “Yes.”

            “Want to see some more?”

            “Oh, God, yes.”

            (Y/N) grinned. They had a feeling the three of them could be an excellent team.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙖𝙡 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙧 (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐𝘐 - 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙚) || sub!bucky barnes x dominatrix!reader

(𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘐𝘐) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘐𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝) (𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘝𝘐)

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 || the finale.

𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 || 3.5k

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 || fluff, angst, implied smut, domestic goodness, more EMOTIONS!!!

six months ago...

Bucky wrung his hands a few times before knocking on your door, feeling his heart beat a little faster when he could hear the sounds of your footsteps on the other side. He'd been dreaming of a day like this for so long— the day he finally acted on this secret obsession he had, the day he stopped fantasizing and started realizing— but all this time, part of him had never really thought he'd go through with it. I mean, there's a pretty big difference between jerking off to videos of dominant women and actually getting spanked, slapped, and choked by a dominatrix after paying her an insane amount of money per hour.

But frankly, Bucky needed a big difference from what he'd been doing. He'd been alone for a little too long, he needed someone else's touch before he lost his mind. And he knew that he needed something more substantial than a hook-up, someone who wouldn't expect him to be dominant at all. Even in a kink-less, vanilla hook-up, there’s still an onus of dominance, that’s what Bucky had realised. He’s still supposed to initiate, to guide, to be fully in control… and he hates how it feels to be in control. He’s not used to it, and it doesn’t feel right, and it just makes him sure he’ll do something wrong. So here he was, standing at your door, hoping you’d take away his freedom to do something wrong.

The latch turned and you opened it.

Fuck.

You looked great. Too great, almost overwhelming. Even better than the pictures on your website.

You looked so much softer than the women he saw whenever he searched up femdom porn (yes, that was pretty much the first thing he did once he figured out google— thankfully he had also figured out incognito mode), but your presence was twice as commanding. Your eyes scanned over him quickly and your face stayed annoyingly stoic.

You invited him in; And since then, you’d had him wrapped around your finger.

Even knowing to a certain extent what he was getting into, he could’ve never prepared for how quickly he’d fall for you. Not that he was exactly new to the feeling, but he thought guilt might eat him alive: because of course he felt awful for developing real feelings for you. You were just doing your job and he was falling into the same trap that probably every dumbass client fell into.

Or maybe they actually knew what they were doing and understood how to separate fantasy from reality. He couldn’t decide which one was worse.

He spent a few hours trying to decide while staring up at his ceiling— certainly a better way to spend the time than being social or taking care of unfinished business, right?

But leave it to you to change everything with just three words. Make me yours.

He hadn’t stopped thinking about those words— or about the way you said them— since the moment you spoke them. He hadn’t stopped changing his mind on if he could really believe you were his or not. He wanted to, more than anything; and in those brief moments he did, he felt a joy that he had no idea what to do with.

He frowned as he turned his back towards the mirror, looking over his shoulder to watch his finger run over the fading scars on his back. They’d be gone for good in less than a week, but he knew you had left plenty of permanent marks on him— just unfortunately not those that anyone else could see. He liked the way these scars looked under your fingertips much more than his; he liked everything about being in your arms.

Since you’d texted him to ask if you could have a serious talk with him soon, he worried he wouldn’t get to feel that again. In fact, nothing worried him more.

He was typically antsy as he waited for you to answer the door— he had been since that very first time so long ago— but this felt entirely different: not as jittery, but a thousand times more anxious.

At first he’d been wishing you’d answer it right away, but then he heard your bolt turn and panic landed on him like a dangling anvil dropping on a cartoon character. Suddenly the last thing he wanted was for you to open that door, to be standing there looking all perfect and shit, to smile at him and greet him and invite him in. He didn’t want it; he couldn’t take it.

But you did it all anyway, though it was obviously and immediately a new situation entirely, compared to every other time you’d done it.

You were dressed differently, still formal but definitely toned down. Nothing sexual, at least not objectively. And your smile, though it still made his heart skip a beat just like always, was noticeably softer and maybe a bit sadder.

He stepped in past you, and you surprised him by sitting next to him on the couch rather than across from him on your chair. “Do you want, like, water or anything?” you asked, breaking the silence for a moment.

“No, I’m fine,” he nodded.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at silence these past few years; it didn’t bother him, in fact he barely even noticed it. But this silence made him remember why everyone else hated silence so much: it was heavy and thick and made him overcome with the need to blurt something out. “Everyone calls me Bucky,” he finally admitted. You smiled.

“Do you want me to call you that?” you asked.

He considered your question, trying to imagine you saying it. “I… I used to think it would be better, but now I like the way you say ‘James’ too much.”

“If you thought it would be better, why did you ask me to call you James?” you pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to know who I was.”

“I know who you are,” you informed him. “I always knew.”

He swallowed as the pit formed in his gut, glancing away to hide from your gaze. “You did a good job of… of pretending you didn’t. You never seemed scared of me.”

“Because I wasn’t. And I’m not.”

He couldn’t imagine how; but then again, if there was any truly fearless woman, he figured it would be you. “I thought you’d beat me up better if you knew what I’d done,” he admitted, almost smiling but not exactly feeling very happy. “Thought you might want… revenge.”

“Surprised that didn’t make you want to tell me.”

He laughed a bit at that. “Yeah, fair enough.”

You asked him a very different question next, one that made his throat suddenly dry: "Have you ever had something that was all your own?" you spoke gently.

"Not for a long time…" he trailed off, letting his eyes unfocus as he stared down at your floor before finding the courage to look up at you again. “Is that what you wanna be?” he asked, already wishing he hadn’t said anything in case it was too presumptuous, but you just smiled back at him in a shy sort of way.

“Something like that,” you mitigated.

His eyes darted around your face— from your eyes glancing away, to your lips that you gnawed on for a moment, to the little crease between your brows— and he found himself leaning forward before he even realized it. “Can I kiss you?” he asked quietly.

You didn’t answer, you just kissed him first; he was so relieved that you did it, too, that you took control so easily and just let him melt into your kiss. As good as it felt to submit to you, he enjoyed the new freedom he had in this moment as well— the freedom to reach up and grab your waist, to brush his hand over your hair, to tilt his head and deepen the kiss further.

It was hard to define exactly where it went from innocent to sensual to sexual, but by the time you were straddling his lap and running your fingers through his hair, it was definitely sexual.

“I want you,” you breathed against his lips.

“Have me,” he offered immediately, “I’m yours. Always was.”

He breathed in sharply when you moved your hips just right to rub up against his swelling cock through his jeans, making him grip your waist a bit harder. “Good boy,” you whispered. “You’re so good, James.”

He believed you this time, finally.

For your first real date, he took you to Coney Island. Not the classiest affair, and he promised to take you somewhere really nice next, but you didn’t mind. It was jarring to see you in casual clothes for the first time, something summer-y and light which was everything opposite to how he was used to seeing you; but he liked it, and he liked knowing a secret about you as you walked through a crowd of carnival-goers that were none the wiser.

He walked you through the fair and explained how he remembered it, showed you the few things that hadn’t changed much. He bought you a hot dog and even won you a prize at one of the games; that one where you throw a baseball and it measures your pitch speed? Yeah, it’s rigged, but he pitched lefty and it seemed to even everything out. (It’s not cheating, okay? It’s beating them at their own game, literally.)

So with a massive teddy under one arm and his waist wrapped in your other, you two walked through the winding pier, under twinkling lights and over walkways towering over the ocean below. And then you fooled around a bit on the ferris wheel. It was the ideal Coney Island experience, for sure.

Bucky didn’t have a ton of friends, per se, but he was excited for you to meet them. Meeting friends was certainly a step, though; hopefully a step you were willing to take, but he didn’t want to ask you to do it without at least having a title to introduce you with.

“I want you to be my girlfriend,” he finally told you.

“I kinda thought I already was,” you laughed.

And so, with more pride than he might have ever had for anything before, Bucky finally got to take you to meet everyone (‘everyone’ being a mix of his friends and his coworkers, who may or may not be his friends because he couldn’t always tell) and say “I want you guys to meet my girlfriend.”

Of course you were amazing with all of them; you continued that tactful “I know who you are but I’m pretending I don’t to be nice” thing that you’d started with him, and everyone seemed to appreciate it. You cracked a couple jokes, everyone laughed.

You lied about how you and Bucky met, or at least answered very strategically. Everyone at least pretended to believe you.

Afterwards, they all said something about how great you were or about how lucky he was. The only thing he ever said back was “I know.”

Now that he could kiss you without breaking any rules, he never wanted to stop. He hardly ever did, actually. He kissed you basically whenever he could get the chance; you two didn’t even go out much anymore because he wasn’t very good at keeping his hands to himself, but you weren’t exactly complaining about staying in. You were too busy kissing him back, and teasing him mercilessly while you were at it, to do that.

You had already found the fastest way to get him needy and begging, not that any way took very long. If you kissed him while you straddled his lap, wrapping your arms around him and slowly grinding against him, he lost it in minutes. And you really seemed to get a kick out of watching him lose it, just as much as always.

It made him realize that the way you looked at him before, in sessions and scenes together, was a lot less of an act than he’d assumed at the time. He just thought you were a really good actress, or that he was really whipped; and maybe the first was true, and the second was absolutely true, but regardless it had become clear that you had it almost as bad as he did from the beginning. It gave him even more respect for how well you controlled yourself, he certainly hadn’t had much self-control at the time— after all the whole ordeal was about losing control, and occasionally about trying to gain it back.

He didn’t ask you to quit your job. He didn’t want or expect you to; but you did cut down your hours, which gave the two of you more time together.

To be totally honest, part of him got a bit titillated to imagine you with your other clients. He didn’t like the idea of other men touching you, but he smirked at the thought of them begging to touch you and being denied; he liked knowing that you didn’t do with them even half of the stuff you’d done with him when he was your client.

But he wasn’t your client anymore. He was your boyfriend, and he wanted the world to know it.

six months later...

He let you struggle to reach the top shelf for a moment, just because you looked cute on your tip-toes with the tip of your tongue sticking out of the corner of your mouth, before he finally relented and helped you grab the bottle of rice wine vinegar.

“Thanks,” you smiled as he set it in the cart.

After that you let him grab everything, content to stand on the end of the cart and push you around as you reminded him what else you needed.

“We’re out of Captain Crunch!” you remembered as he passed the cereal aisle, pointing to try to get him to turn.

“Yes, and we need to stay that way,” Bucky explained sternly, “that shit is addictive. Only way to avoid it is to not have it in the house.”

You frowned but accepted that he was absolutely right, though you groaned when he took you to the refrigerated section to stock up on chicken breasts. “I swear, you would eat these for breakfast if you didn’t think I’d judge you for it,” you joked.

“What’s wrong with chicken breasts?”

“They’re just so… bland!”

“Not if you season them right,” he corrected.

“Which you don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “Come on, at least splurge on some chicken thighs. They’re basically the same but so much more flavorful.”

“Fine, but no more making fun of my cooking,” Bucky decided, placing the breasts back on the shelf and grabbing two packs of thighs instead. “I’m still adapting to 21st century sensibilities.”

“Right,” you nodded, though he caught your smile in the corner of his eye— you knew he couldn’t exactly claim to still be as conservative as he was raised to be in every way.

Like any well-planned grocery run, it ended at the frozen section where you got some fruit bars and frozen vegetables (you had this theory that frozen vegetables tasted better in fried rice than fresh ones, and so far you’d proven him right) and he got a pizza to have for dinner in a pinch. When shopping alone before, he always did self-checkout to avoid being seen anymore than he had to… he still did it with you, but he didn’t even think about who might be looking at him, because all he saw was you.

You drove for this trip, and he always felt oddly soothed by riding passenger with you at the wheel. He liked to close his eyes and lean back a bit, or occasionally look over at you (but if he did it too much you complained that he was being creepy and distracting you). It shouldn’t be too much of a surprise that he enjoyed the feeling of you taking control, considering everything, but it was one of those little ways that he hadn’t expected. He just felt so comfortable, so safe with you, and never he felt like he was a burden for asking you to take the lead when he didn’t trust himself with it. And that applied to everything— driving, cooking, speaking up in crowds, all those little things that sometimes made him anxious.

There were some things he didn’t have any trouble being dominant about, though. He was very protective of you, for example, and tended to be uptight about how late you went out for walks or where you should be going alone. And he didn’t struggle to ask you for what he wanted— he was getting a lot better at asking for help, specifically.

He used to ask you to say that you loved him, instead of just saying ‘I love you’ himself, because for some reason it was easier to make you do it first. It started as something he’d beg for in the throes of passion, fingers digging into your skin as his eyes watered (as they often did in intimate moments): please, say you love me— jus’ need to hear you say it, please? And you were always sweet about it in return, of course I love you, James, my good boy, I love you so so much. But then he’d ask you to say it whenever he felt like it— he’d come up behind you while you were reading or cooking or something and kiss the top of your head or the shell of your ear and try to act nonchalant as he asked you love me, right?

You’d laugh and roll your eyes before you answered, but it was, thankfully, always a ‘yes.’ Eventually you figured out how often you needed to say it to make him stop asking all the time, which was probably a little too often.

“I love you,” you blurted out randomly as you turned on your signal and leaned a bit to make sure it was safe to make a left— case in point.

“I love you too,” he answered back with a smile.

“I don’t mind saying it so often,” you added, “but you know that I love you even when I’m not saying it, right? I love you all the time.”

It was a simple question, probably mostly rhetorical, but it hit him harder than he expected. “Yeah, I know,” he managed to get out evenly enough that you didn’t notice he was tearing up a bit.

He put the groceries away while you took the trash out; you liked to keep the fridge pretty organized, and it was an adjustment at first, but by now Bucky had it down pat. Before you, he hadn’t even considered that the contents of a refrigerator could be aesthetically pleasing.

Dinner was leftovers in front of the TV— you two were almost done with Frasier, but after that you had ten seasons of Friends to get through. You had tried to encourage him to watch more challenging stuff— you know, True Detective, Hannibal, dark cerebral stuff with arguably more artistic merit than classic sitcoms— but Bucky had had enough darkness in his life that he didn’t need it in his fiction. Maybe he’d find the time to catch up on the last 80 years of dramas and murder mysteries after he caught up on the last 80 years of comedy.

After dinner you were going to do yoga and Bucky, not in the mood to embarrass himself with that, retired to the bedroom a bit early to read his book— he’d heard a lot about this Harry Potter guy and now that he was on the fourth book and could hardly put it down, he understood the hype. He related a bit to the unwilling war hero in its protagonist; most of the time the series enthralled him, but occasionally something would hit too deep and he’d have to put it away for a couple days. At the moment, though, he was in one of the easy parts where it was just about schoolwork and childhood antics.

He instinctively glanced at the door when he heard you open it— he wasn’t sure how long it had been time-wise, but he’d gotten through quite a few pages— but he only quickly looked up at you as you shut the door behind you, before returning his attention to the book he was reading. “So, Bucky…” you began.

“Yeah?” he mumbled.

“James.”

It wasn’t any one thing that got his attention— not just the tone of your voice or the way it got a bit deeper, not just the look you gave him, not just the way the air of the room seemed to shift all at once. It was everything about you that made his body react instantly. He shut the book and set it aside, sitting up straight to look at you expectantly.

And you seemed to notice his instinctual obedience, considering you just barely smirked at him, raising an eyebrow as he spoke his reply: “Yes, Mistress?”

[wicked-mind]

Once More With Feeling

Summary: When Steve brings an enhanced human with the ability to sense and manipulate emotions/feelings to join the team, she has an immediate interest in the puzzle known as James Bucky Barnes. And Bucky can’t help but be infatuated with her abilities and eventually her.

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, mentions of torture.

Italics are used for flashbacks/memories.

All Writings Masterlist

As always, any likes, comments, or reblogs are deeply appreciated (:

*gifs not mine

“Who’s that?” Y/N asked Sam with a smile, nodding over towards the man sitting on the patio with a beer bottle in his hand, staring off into the distance with a grim look on his features. He wore a black leather jacket that was zipped up to the collar, dark pants, boots tied perfectly, and black gloves on his hands.

“Ah that’s James. His friends get to call him Bucky.” Sam told her, tucking his hands in his pocket, “It’s a very exclusive group though. Consists of just Steve.”

Y/N looked up at Sam, raising an eyebrow, “Is that a bit of… can I call it annoyed jealousy?” She asks with a teasing smile, nudging him with her shoulder slightly, “What, you jealous you’re not Cap’s bestie or annoyed that James won’t let you be his?”

Sam looked down at her shaking his head, “Can you not do the whole reading thing right now?” He asked with a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Sorry, it’s just radiating off of you.” Y/N said with a small laugh before looking back out the glass door to the man referred to as James sat alone, “I’m going to go talk to him.”

Sam raised his eyebrows at her, “Good luck with that, Y/N. He’s a man of little to no words. Or emotions. He also doesn’t blink very much.”

Y/N was already headed towards the door with a small smile on her lips, turning her head over her shoulder to look at Sam, “That’s alright. I love staring contests.” She told him before walking out the glass door, shutting it behind her. Y/N walked over to the small metal table Bucky was sitting at, plopping herself on the chair across from him silently. She allowed her eyes to study him. He had longer hair, almost brushing his shoulders. There was stubble covering his cheeks and chin and he constantly looked like he was deep in thought, so much so in fact that little crease between his furrowed eyebrows could be permanent. She didn’t say anything, just sat silently in the chair as she stared into his eyes.

Bucky watched the woman. He had heard they were getting a new team member but didn’t bother to get to know much about her. It was somebody Steve had found and thought could be useful to the team but he didn’t know much more than that. He looked her over as she sat, she was wearing a long sleeved black shirt with blue jeans and combat boots. He was curious about the red leather gloves she wore though, he’d never really seen anybody else besides him wearing gloves constantly. He stared into her eyes, watching her closely. What was she doing? Why did she come to sit by him when there were so many other places to be? Bucky had came out here to be alone as he always did. He liked to be alone, in his own personal bubble lost in his thoughts. There was something about sitting outside alone and night where he felt peace. Maybe being under the stairs with the breeze on his face reminded him of his time in Wakanda, he didn’t know what it was but it was his favorite moment of the day. And now there was this new team member just staring at him. When her eyebrow twitched upwards slightly as if to challenge him, he narrowed his blue eyes at her and placed the beer bottle on the table never breaking eye contact. Bucky places his gloved hands on the table intertwined and leans slightly forward, staring, almost glaring, into her eyes. But the more he just stared the more he felt… what was that? Comfort? His irritation was fading away as he stared into those eyes, almost feeling lost and mesmerized in them at this point. Once he couldn’t take the staring anymore he sighs and leans back in his chair, looking away from her and out into the distance again, “What are you doing?”

Steve had found Y/N after she accidentally helped on a mission. She had a special ability that he thought could be very useful not only on missions but just in general so he asked her to join the team or at least give it a try. Y/N had agreed and now here she was, across from the dark haired, constantly in pain looking man having a staring contest. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her ability consisted of being able to read emotions and feelings of those around her and also manipulate them if she touched them, hence why she wore the gloves. She never wanted to touch someone and manipulate their feelings without their consent because she believed everybody was entitled to how they feel and there were reasons people felt the way they do. But that all broke off when Steve offered her the job. She would be helpful on missions, being able to get enemies to cooperate with the good guys instead of being all nasty and evil. Y/N could feel the pain, the anger, the lostness but she could see that plain as day in his eyes. When he broke the staring off and asked the question, she leaned back in the chair, “Did you know there’s multiple studies that show that staring into someone’s eyes can show their true intentions to you and show if you can trust them? They also say eyes are the window to the soul, able to process other’s emotions and what they’re feeling deep inside.”

Bucky’s lips curved slightly downwards at her words. She had stared at him to get information about him, was that it? He took a sip of his beer and looked back over to her, “You could’ve just asked instead of treating me like a study. I’ve had enough of that for one lifetime.” He spat out at her but almost immediately felt bad. She wasn’t wrong, he stared into her eyes and saw nothing but openness. Even now she was being open with him, truthful. God dammit, all it took was a damn staring contest for him to have a spark of trust for her, “Who are you anyway?”

“I’m Y/N.” She told him, a small smile curving to her lips, “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” She said as she stared into his eyes, letting him know she was truly sorry if she offended him, “Sam said you like to stare and I’m pretty kick-ass at staring contests. Couldn’t help myself.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes slightly again at her as she apologized to him, then looks away again as he took another sip of his beer, letting out a slight sigh, “So you’re the one Steve brought back. Why would he do that?” He said almost coldly thought he didn’t mean for it to come across that way.

Y/N shrugs, “He thought I could be helpful here and on certain missions given my abilities.” She told him, watching him even though he wasn’t looking at her.

“And what are your abilities?” Bucky asked, looking over towards her curiously before looking down to her gloved hands, “Are you missing an arm too? Did he think we could bond about it?”

Y/N almost chuckled at his words then shook her head at him with a small smile, “No, I have both arms in tact. Which now would be a good time to tell you I’m sorry about yours, must’ve been a big loss that I’m sure you’re still dealing with everyday.” She watched as Bucky looked at her almost shocked for a slight second at her words. She figured nobody must’ve told him they were sorry for what happened to his arm, or acknowledge the loss he still felt of his left arm even though it had been replaced with a vibranium arm, “I like to call myself a reader. I can sense the emotions and feelings of those around me and if I touch you, I can manipulate those feelings. For example, I can make someone feel more cooperative with a single touch. I can provide happiness. Love. There is the darker side to it though. I can also make people feel pain, feel like their drowning, feel like they’re on fire or in the deepest pit of despair.” She said, looking down at her gloved hands, “Sometimes when I touch people, I can’t help but try and make them feel better. Touching people lets me feel their emotions more personally than just sensing them. It’s an automatic response to try and help fix it but I believe that everybody has a reason for feeling how they do and they can choose need to sort through their own emotions on their own.”

Bucky swallowed hard at her words. Only one question came into his mind of her and he was halfway worried to ask it. As if she knew he was dancing around the question, she smiled over to him encouragingly and the question just sort of slipped out, “Can you make someone feel relief? Feel…. less guilty?”

Y/N bit her lip at his question, watching him for a moment before pulling off one of her red gloves and setting her hand in the middle of the table outstretched towards him, palm face up to give him the choice to touch her.

Bucky looked down at her hand, hesitating whether he should touch her or not but curiosity got the best of him. He wanted to feel some sort of relief. Sure, he had made all his amends in the notebook but that didn’t mean he felt any sort of relief, any sort of happiness or hope. He slowly took the glove off of his right flesh hand, reaching out and hovering his hand over her’s for a moment before looking into her eyes and resting his fingertips into her palm. Immediately at the touch of her skin, a slow sense of relief filled his body and he closed his eyes at the feeling. He tilted his head back slightly and his lips parted the smallest bit at the feeling he had longed to feel. It was relief and hope with no guilt anywhere in his body or mind. He wanted to stay like this forever, keep this feeling inside him even if it wasn’t truly real. He didn’t notice his hand had moved to hold her’s, gripping tightly not wanting to let go. After a few minutes, he opened his eyes to look down at their hands and quickly pulled away, “I’m sorry.. for lingering… I shouldn’t have…”

Y/N shook her head at him, pulling her hand back and putting the glove back on, “Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help anytime you need it. I’ll help you until you don’t need me to feel relief, hope. Although, if you do come to me to for help, you do have to teach me some self defense. I pretty much know nothing and Steve says you know everything about it.”

Bucky’s lips twitched into a small smile and he nodded slowly, “Alright. You have a deal.”

Bucky stood outside the landing pad, his arms crossed as he watched the quinjet touch down. There had been a new organization that had made themselves known called the Peace Keepers. They had a mission to capture all known people with any type of superhuman abilities or those they deemed posed a threat to the rest of the ‘normal’ population. They were ruthless, kidnapping any type of enhanced human and either making an example out of them or the person was never seen again. They didn’t have very many leads so when Steve got word that a local police department in Seattle had captured one of the Peace Keepers, he immediately took Y/N and Sam with him to try and confront him. Bucky always worried when Y/N went on missions even though he had trained her well in offense and defense, she was still a human and could get hurt easily. As the quinjet bay doors opened, Bucky’s arms uncrossed at the sight. Sam and Steve were walking out shaking their heads at each other with grim looks on their faces. Bucky immediately started walking towards them at a brisk pace, his eyes scanning for any sign of Y/N. When he didn’t see her, he looked to Steve, “Where is she? What happened?” But the look in Steve’s eyes was all he needed to confirm the fear he had.

Steve sighed and shook his head slightly, a defeated look written all over his face, “It was a set up, Buck. I’m sorry, the Peace Keepers took her.”

It’s been a few months since Bucky met Y/N. He hated to admit it but he liked being around her. She could sense his emotions and knew when he just needed to sit in silence or when he needed to talk and it was comforting to know someone had some sort of understanding of what he was going through. She helped him whenever he needed whether it be someone to talk to, to sit with, or even using her ability to help him when he was feeling the worst. Y/N seemed so pure to him, like a ray of sunshine in the dark world that surrounded him. He always felt at his best when she was in his presence even if she wasn’t using her ability. He loved training with her, even if he was a little tough on her at times she never held it against him. She was a quick learner and even asked him to teach her some knife tricks after he showed her his extensive knife collection.

Tonight was a bad night for Bucky though. Every time he closed his eyes the nightmares of the Winter Soldier took over his mind. He was waking up what seemed like every ten minutes dripping in sweat and he could feel himself slowly breaking due to the lack of sleep and anxiety that riddled his body. He pulled himself out of his bed, pulling on some grey sweatpants and a black t-shirt before walking out of his room. It was early in the morning hours and he thought nobody would be up, but as if Y/N knew he needed some help, she was sitting outside where they usually sat every night waiting for him with a twelve pack of beer sitting on the table. Bucky couldn’t help but smile a little at the sight before taking a seat in the chair next to her, grabbing a beer and opening it before taking a long swig, “You waiting for me?” He asks her after putting the bottle back on the table. He had never seen so much skin exposed on her. She was wearing a tank top, no gloves, and long black pajama pants with red roses on them. He had never seen her arms before and just now he noticed she had small tattoos littering both arms, but they weren’t so much a sleeve as just randomly placed across her skin like she just closed her eyes and picked a spot.

Y/N shrugs over to him, taking a sip of her already open beer, “I figured I’d meet you out here eventually. I’m three beers in, Barnes. You got some catching up to do.”

“Bucky.” He said to her and when she looked at him sort of confused he quickly added, “Call me Bucky, that’s what I meant.”

Y/N smiles and nods, “Alright, Bucky. Does this mean I’m part of the super exclusive Bucky Barnes friend group?”

“That sounds like something Sam told you.” Bucky responds with a small smile, bringing the bottle up to his lips again for a drink.

“Oh yeah, he very much told me that.” She responded with a soft laugh, “But I am extremely honored to be accepted into the group.”

Bucky chuckles over to her, finishing the rest of his beer and setting the empty bottle on the table before grabbing another one, “One down, two to go.” He told her, cracking open the next bottle. His eyes lingered over her tattoos, wondering what they all meant to her, “I didn’t know you had tattoos.”

Y/N shrugs slightly, looking down at her own arms at the scattered ink, “Oh yeah, I mostly keep them covered up so nobody accidentally brushes my skin and gets feelings they aren’t ready to feel.”

Bucky nods, “What do they mean to you?” He asks curiously, wanting to know more about her.

Y/N looks down and points at three butterflies that were placed above her wrist, looking like they were flying up her arms, “This one reminds me that I’m free.” She moves to point to another one that was a purple iris with a date in the stem, “This is for my mom. She passed away from cancer a few years ago. She was the only one that loved me unconditionally.” She moved to one that was just the number thirteen in a fancy font, “This is my lucky number.” She looked at her other arm and pointed to a small yellow sunflower, “My favorite flower. My mom used to send me to pick wild sunflowers when my dad was home. He wasn’t a very good man.” Her eyes flickered to Bucky who was nodding each time she explained, entranced with her tattooed skin so she continued, pointing to one that looked like a human heart, “This one is to remember to wear my heart on my sleeve because I’m cheesy like that. I have a lot more but they’re all covered up right now.”

Bucky nodded, slightly smiling at the last one before noticing one she hadn’t pointed out yet. It was in the crook of her elbow where someone would put an IV but it had the red cursive words ‘fuck you’ around a large circular scar, “And that one?” He asks, pointing towards it and raising an eyebrow. All her other tattoos were cute but this one had a curse word plastered right on her skin.

Y/N looked down at it, biting her lip gently before looking up towards him and taking a sip of her beer before she spoke, “That one is for my dad. Like I said, he wasn’t a good man. He put out a cigar there, hence the scar and I decided to tattoo fuck you on it.” She said, and even though the story of her childhood wasn’t one she liked to share, she would always be honest with Bucky. Her father was a very abusive man and eventually the abuse went from only on her mother to her until she and her mom ran away to get away from him.

Bucky looked at her sadly for a moment, wondering what her childhood was like. Her father sounded evil from the bits she shared, but yet here she was all sunshine and smiles through her pain. He felt a small bit of jealousy for the way she was able to handle trauma, but mostly just sadness for her and a need to protect her from those things, “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Y/N shrugs at him, “It’s alright. It’s a part of me that made me who I am even if it is a dark and twisted part. I like who I am now, and even if I don’t like how I got here, the best I can do is keep moving forward.” She watched him for a moment before tilting her head, “So what has you coming out here at this hour looking for me?”

Bucky swallowed dryly, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips and taking a long drink before answering her, “Nightmares have been bad tonight.” He said quietly, almost as if ashamed to seem weak as he looked down at his ungloved hands, “Every time I get to sleep I just see him. The things he did. I didn’t want to bother you so I was coming out here to find some peace.” He looked over to her, “But here you are, waiting for me.”

Y/N smiled gently over to him, reaching her hand across the table for him to touch if he’d like. As she watched him reach out his flesh hand to touch her’s, she pulled back a little, “Answer me this first, Bucky.” She said, “How are you feeling right now?”

Bucky’s brow furrowed at her words, blinking a little as he thought about it. How did he feel? Certainly better than when he first trudged out here. Talking to Y/N calmed him, just being in her presence made the anxiety and panic he felt in his body melt away. He slowly looked at her, “I feel… Better.”

“No, Bucky.” Y/N told him, shaking her head gently, “I know exactly what you feel, remember? You feel relieved. You feel hopeful. All on your own without needing my touch.” She said with a smile over towards him, watching his lips curve into a small smile at her words, “My ability may be a quick cheat to getting you what you need to feel, but what is even better is when you can feel that all by yourself without my touch.”

“I like your touch though.” Bucky blurted out before flinching at his own words.God he must’ve sounded like an idiot, “I… uhm…” He said, scanning his brain for anyway to cover that up.

Y/N chuckles and smiles at him, reaching over and taking his hand in her’s, “That’s alright. I like your touch too.” She said, “We’ve done this enough times I’ve figured out how to keep myself from messing with your emotions when I touch you. So whatever you’re feeling right now, that’s all you buddy. You’re stronger than you know.”

Bucky smiled over at her, immediately feeling something at her touch. He didn’t know what it was but he believed her when she said he wasn’t toying with his emotions at her touch. He felt warm but his stomach was also twisting. No, not twisting. He didn’t know what the feeling in his stomach was, but all he knew was that he liked it. Could this be happiness he was feeling? Happiness that wasn’t given to him by her ability, but by the way she spoke to him and touched him.

Bucky immediately lost his temper, punching his vibranium arm into a wall that easily collapsed around it and formed a large hole. Y/N had been taken. His safe place had been taken from him. He should’ve gone with them on the mission, he had tried but Steve told him they had it handled. He felt lost in guilt and anger, wondering if Y/N was one of the bodies they would find days later or if she was going to be one of the enhanced humans that were taken only to never be seen again.

“We’ll get her back,” Sam said, placing a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder which was quickly shrugged away, “I got redwing trying to track down the trucks they escaped in.”

Bucky turned to look at Sam, an angry vein popping out of his neck, “Oh, we are just going to rely on your stupid little mechanical bird then? Hope that it can figure shit out?”

“Calm down, Buck.” Steve said, folding his arms across his chest and stepping to stand between the two, “It’s not his fault, he’s trying to help.”

“No, you’re right Steve.” Bucky said, turning his angry glare to his best friend, “It’s yours. If you would’ve just let me come maybe none of this would’ve happened. I wouldn’t have let them take her. I would’ve protected her.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at Bucky at his choice of words, looking at Sam and giving him a nod as if to tell him that they needed a minute. Once Sam was out of earshot, he turned his attention back to Bucky, “We didn’t let her get taken. We were ambushed. It was a set up, Buck.” He said sternly, “What’s gotten into you?” His gaze softened a little bit at the look in Bucky’s eyes, “She has, hasn’t she?”

Bucky looked around, anywhere but meeting Steve’s gaze because he was right. He had developed feelings for Y/N and now that she was out of his grasp, taken away from him he was realizing everything he felt for her. It wasn’t just friendship. The night he talked to her when she showed him her tattoos and held his hand that feeling in his stomach was butterflies, a crush forming and he didn’t get the chance to tell her. Now he didn’t know if he would see her again, “She has, Steve…” Bucky finally softly said, “She’s like an angel that just came into my life and showed me how to process through things. Showed me what it’s like to have hope, happiness. Relief.” His flesh hand came up to run through his long hair, “And now she’s gone, taken. And we don’t know where or what is happening to her and I’ve never told her how important she is to me.”

Steve put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, trying not to smile at the fact Bucky had found someone because the circumstances wouldn’t allow it. But he was genuinely happy that Bucky was doing better and vowed to himself that he would do everything to get Y/N back for Bucky, “Y/N can read your emotions as soon as she enters the same room as you. She knows, Bucky.” He told him, squeezing his shoulder gently, “And we will get her back so you can tell her. I promise.”

“I know why you’re always eating those plums.” Y/N said, looking at Bucky who had pulled a plum out to snack on after training with her.

Bucky raised an eyebrow at her, throwing the plum up in the air before catching it, a small grin on his lips, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

Y/N smiles, reaching out and taking the plum from him in her gloved hand and looking at it, “Plums have antioxidants to protect the brain from cell degeneration and also help with memory. I would actually be surprised if you didn’t eat them constantly.” She told him, holding the plum back to him to take.

Bucky shook his head and couldn’t help but chuckle a little at her correct answer. When he was regaining his memory, he did extensive study on foods that helped your brain and memory and plums happened to be his favorite, “You’re smart, Y/N.”

“I know.” Y/N said with a smile.

Y/N opened her eyes slowly, groaning to herself. The last thing she remembered is that she was trying to get a read on the Peace Keeper in custody before the station they were in was ambushed by many more minions of the Peace Keepers. As Sam and Steve fought them off, a man came face to face with her. They fought for a little bit before the man pressed a syringe into her neck, causing the world to fade to darkness around her. Now, as she looked around the room she was in, she noticed she was strapped to a chair with duct tape in a small cement room almost like a cell. Her attention was caught when a man entered through the steel door in front of her, tilting her head slightly. She could feel his emotions and all he exuded was dominance and power.

“Welcome, Y/N.” He said towards her, his long blonde hair was pulled back into a bun, “I’m so excited you’re here. I have such great plans for you.”

“What are you thinking about, Bucky?” Y/N asks, laying on the grass next to him as they looked up at the stars. She didn’t wear her gloves around him anymore or hide her skin which made her feel more comfortable, more herself.

Bucky’s arms were stretched behind his head, his eyes glued to the dark sky that was littered with twinkling stars, “My amends. After I came back from the blip, Steve and Sam helped me get pardoned by the government except I had to do these therapy sessions. I had a list of everybody that either used the Winter Soldier or those the Winter Soldier wronged, wanting to make amends.”

Y/N turned onto her side to look at him, studying his face, “Did you finish your list?”

Bucky tilted his head over to look at her, “I did. Feels like I didn’t though.” He told her honestly. He was always honest with Y/N. She was the only other person that was easy to talk to besides Steve.

Y/N narrowed her eyes at him as if trying to figure something out just by looking at him, “Maybe it’s because you didn’t put your own name on the list. The Winter Soldier wronged you too, Buck. Maybe it’s time to start making amends to yourself so you can truly finish your amends list. Tell yourself that you are James Bucky Barnes, not the Winter Soldier anymore, and that you would like to make amends. Maybe it’ll make you feel like it’s complete.”

Bucky stared at her in awe. How did Y/N do that? How did she saw all the right things at the right time to him like she knew what he needed to hear? He moved his right hand to reach over and grip onto her’s, intertwining their fingers with a smile before looking up at the stars, “I think you’re right.”

“Well I don’t want to brag, but I usually am.”

Redwing returned to Sam after two weeks and losing track of where the Peace Keepers and Y/N were taken which only irritated Bucky more. He wanted to go to Seattle immediately and look for her himself but just when he was arguing with Steve and Sam about it, all the monitors in the briefing room suddenly turned on and started flashing imagines of the Peace Keeper’s symbol before footage of Y/N appeared on the screen. There were people holding her and making her touch a wall over and over again, holding her up even though she looked like she was asleep and collapsing. A voice started speaking on the screens though it seemed like it had been disguised because it was so deep, “As you can see and already know, we have taken one of your team. Y/N Y/L/N. We may not have the technology or methods used to create the obedience the Winter Soldier had, but we have our own methods.” The screen changed to show Y/N being tortured in different ways, breaking down her psyche by forcing her to do things and if she refused, she was either struck or was forced into freezing cold water. They were breaking her down and turning her submissive to their will. Bucky flinched at the images, he had trained her to fight and defend herself but not how to stay strong under torture, “Breaking down the mind, spirit and soul of a being is messy, but our methods are effective. Within one week of continuous strain on her mind due to no sleep and our training, Y/N has become submissive to simple commands. By week two, she has completely bent to our will and we unlocked her abilities to make it so she doesn’t have to touch people to manipulate them. With her, we will be able to bend anybody to our will.” The images changed from Y/N being tortured to her causing them to scream in pain that they felt like they were on fire and scratch at their skin until they were ripping their own skin off, “Let this be a warning to all enhanced beings. We will find you. We will bend you to our will. We will make you our soldiers. You are dangerous and the Peace Keepers will keep you in line.” Then the screens turned off.

Bucky shook his head, “I’ve read everything on brainwashing when I got my memories back. They’re using old soviet methods as well as methods L. Ron Hubbard used.”

“The scientology guy?” Sam asks confused as to what he had to do with anything.

Bucky nodded over to him, folding his arms tightly across his chest, “They believed that if you could make someone do something as simple like only touching a wall over and over again for days without sleep, food, or water, they could break your will and psyche. Make you do anything. That’s what they did to her, making her believe her only purpose is to do what they say or there will be punishment.” Steve ran his hand through his blonde hair slowly processing the information, “So she’s basically brainwashed. Not only can she manipulate emotions but she can make people feel pain instantly without touching them now, make them feel like they’re on fire until their bodies just give out.” He looked over to Sam and Bucky, “They’re going to find more enhanced humans to do this to, use her to make them comply with their orders.”

Bucky nodded, trying his best to get the images of Y/N being tortured out of his mind and remember her as she really is. He felt anger but going on a rampage wasn’t going to help at this point, “And where do we know of that they keep a bunch of enhanced beings?” “The Raft prison.” Sam said with a sigh. He’d been locked up there before until Steve broke them out. It was an awful place but if Steve could break his team members out, the Peace Keepers and their followers sure as hell could with the help of Y/N/

“Tell me about yourself, Bucky. Not the things I know…” Y/N said as they walked along the grass, twirling a wildflower between her fingers, “Who you really were in the forties.”

Bucky had his hands tucked in his jean pockets as they walked, “Oh, darlin, you would’ve loved me.” He said looking over to her with a grin, “All the girls did. I was kind of a player.”

Y/N laughs a little, “A player, huh? I don’t think I could picture that. So you used to be cocky and confident then?”

“Hell yeah.” Bucky said to her, “I had ladies lining up just to dance with Sergeant James Barnes. Always had my arms over at least two women’s shoulders.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at him with a smile, “Alright, I get it. You were the ladies man of the 1940’s.” She said, glancing up at him, “So, ladies man, were you ever in love? A lucky lady waiting for the handsome Sergeant Barnes back home?”

Bucky squinted his eyes into the distance at the question before looking over at her with that crooked smile only she could bring out of him, “Nah, nobody waiting for me except my family. But I once spent all my money trying to win a girl named Dot a prize at Cooney Island. Does that count as love?” He asks before stopping in his spot and tilting his head down at her, “Wait, you think I’m handsome?”

“I don’t think spending all your money on a woman counts. I think that’s just called being a Sugar Daddy.” Y/N stopped her steps when he did, turning and looking at him with a smirk, “Oh like you didn’t already know how handsome you are Mr. Cocky and Confident Ladies Man.”

When Sam, Steve, and Bucky arrived at the Raft prison on the quinjet, they were already under attack by the Peace Keepers. The only thing they had on their side was the element of surprise. They had discussed a plan on the way. Sam and Steve would keep the Peace Keepers busy while Bucky tried to get to Y/N. They infiltrated quickly, taking down the vast amount of the Peace Keeper followers until the got to the detention level where the enhanced beings were kept. That was where Y/N and the leaders of the Peace Keepers were, unlocking cells one by one and using Y/N to cause them pain or make them complicit to be captured. Steve and Sam immediately went to fighting the leaders of the Peace Keepers, pushing them into cells and slamming them shut to seal them in.

One of the Peace Keeper leaders stood next to Y/N. He turned to her, “Take them out.” He ordered.

Y/N looked at him with what could be considered dead, emotionless eyes before looking to Sam and Steve, “Pain.” Was all she said and instantly, Sam and Steve fell to the floor screaming and writhing on the floor.

“Y/N!” Bucky said, kicking one of the Peace Keeper leaders into the cell before turning his full attention on her, “Stop, you don’t want to do this.”

Y/N tilted her head at him and his words, her facial features unchanging. She then looked towards the Peace Keeper leader as it to ask for permission and he nodded toward her. Y/N returns her eyes on Bucky, “Pain.” Bucky winced at the sudden pain that erupted through his whole body besides his left vibranium arm. He clenched his teeth tightly, trying to resist as every point of his body felt like it was on fire and he was being stabbed in every pore at the same time, “Y/N…” He growled out, taking slow steps towards her, “C’mon doll, it’s me, Bucky.” He groaned out, managing to get closer to her even though his body wanted to give out, join Sam and Steve who were still on the floor shaking. He managed to close the distance, using his vibranium arm to land a hard punch to the Peace Keeper leader next to Y/N, knocking him back into an open cell that slammed shut.

Y/N watched Bucky stand in front of her. His skin was covered with thick beads of sweat as he tried to resist the pain she was making him feel, “Paralyze.” She muttered out, watching his body fall to the floor.

Bucky laid on the floor, he couldn’t feel any part of his flesh body. But luckily, his vibranium arm didn’t seem to be affected by Y/N’s abilities. He reached out his vibranium arm, latching onto her ankle and pulling her down on top of him so her hands touched his skin. He needed to let her feel what he did, show her the emotions he felt hoping to ground her, “Y/N, listen to me.” He whispers out to her, feeling the paralysis start to fade when she made contact with his skin, “It’s me, Bucky. Mr. Cocky and Confident Ladies Man, remember?” Feeling his right flesh hand regain feeling, he reached a hand up to touch her cheek, “You are Y/N. Not a pawn for the Peace Keepers. You are everything good and you are as free as the butterflies on tattooed on your skin.”

Y/N shook her head at him, “No. I belong to the Peace Keepers.” She said to him softly. She was about to open her mouth again to cause him pain, but when her focus broke so did the hold she had on Steve and Sam. Sam quickly came flying in and kicked her off of Bucky, slamming her back against a wall hard enough to knock her out and fall to the floor.

Bucky was at her side immediately, glaring over at Sam, “I had it, birdbrain.” He spat out before his features softened as he brushed some hair from Y/N’s unconscious face.

“Yeah. You had all of that handled perfectly, Buck.” Sam said rolling his eyes, “She was about to twist you inside out. I saved you, man.”

Steve was busy informing the back up guards of the Raft prison on what had happened, helping them secure the Peace Keepers and the rest of the enhanced humans who weren’t in their cells.

Bucky lifts Y/N up from the cold floor gently, looking down at her, “I got you, doll. Don’t worry, I’ll take you home.”

“I like this place.” Y/N said, once again sitting with Bucky outside in the darkness of the night sharing a pack of beer as she stared up at the stars.

Bucky looked over at her curiously, wondering what she liked specifically about living at the facility. Their chairs were almost touching with how close they were sitting next to each other, “What do you like about it?”

Y/N turned her head to meet his gaze, “It just feels like home. Haven’t had that feeling in a long time.” A teasing smirk appeared on her lips suddenly towards him, “Plus I get to be a part of this really exclusive group, the Bucky Barnes friend group. Maybe you’ve heard of it? I keep suggesting we get matching jackets or something but nobody seems to agree.”

Bucky let out a laugh at her comment, “God, I’m never living that down. Thanks, Sam.” He said with a roll of his eyes and another swig of his beer, “And I wasn’t apposed to the matching jacket idea. Steve was. He said it would make Sam feel left out.”

Y/N laughed and shook her head, “Couldn’t have that.” She replies, “You may be able to fool everybody else, but I know he’s secretly your other other best friend. First best friend being Steve and the other being myself, then Sam.”

“It’s like being friends with a pigeon.” Bucky snorted, “Yeah, he isn’t all bad. Just sometimes his face does this thing that makes me mad. And he has that stupid RedWing robot he treats like a pet.”

“That thing with his face? That’s emotions, Bucky.” Y/N laughed again, “Emotions are normal. You and Steve are good at hiding your feelings, able to be stoic. But Sam wears all his feelings plain as day on his face. You can’t let that offend you, it’s just him being honest. But RedWing, yeah, I don’t understand why he treats it like a pet. That’s sort of weird.”

Bucky nodded to agree, drinking the rest of his beer he held in his left hand while his right hand subconsciously found Y/N’s intertwining their fingers and giving it a light squeeze.

Bucky looked down at Y/N who laid on the medical table. She seemed a little malnourished from being held captive for two weeks so Dr. Cho had an IV in her arm providing fluids and nutrition her body badly needed. Bucky was by her side constantly while she was under the light sedation Steve had suggested since they didn’t know if she would attack them or not. It had been days since Y/N had been brought back and Bucky was there at every moment he could be, holding onto her hand as they had done many times before. He was hoping, praying that Y/N was feeling all of the emotions he was just by his touch. He cared deeply for her, emotions he hadn’t felt in a long time since before World War II. He hoped she could feel his hope, the relief of her being here with him, the happiness just touching her made him feel… And the love he had been denying he felt for her. Bucky stood from his chair when he saw Y/N’s brow furrow as if she was about to wake up, squeezing her hand gently, “Y/N.” He breathed out to her, “Doll, you with me?”

Y/N opened her eyes lazily to look up at him, sensing his worry when she just stared at him. Slowly a smile came across her lips and she felt the relief instantly flood his body, “Bucky…” She managed to draw out though the sort of slurred from the sedation, “You love me.”

Bucky shook his head and chuckles down to her, “You felt that, huh?”

Y/N nodded slowly, her eyes slowly and lazily blinking, “I feel everything.” She murmurs out, squeezing his hand gently, “I feel honored…. Does this mean you’re gonna spend all your money trying to win me a prize?”

Bucky leans down and presses a soft kiss to her forehead, “Whatever you want, darlin. I’m pretty sure I can win those prizes first try now though.” He grinned down to her, “Rest, doll. I’ll get Dr. Cho to wean you off of the sedation.”

A Week Later

Y/N was pretty much back to normal. She had a few nightmares that kept lingering due to the torture she endured and the things she was forced to do. Bucky helped her through it, knowing himself what it felt like to forced to be a pawn and go through the haunting nightmares. He made an open invitation to his bedroom towards her, allowing her to come and snuggle up next to him so she didn’t feel alone. They hadn’t discussed what was said when Y/N came out of sedation, the whole Bucky loves her thing which made him worry and panic that she didn’t feel the same way.

Y/N and Bucky sat outside in their normal spot, sharing this time a bottle of whiskey. Their hand were interlocked and they were laughing about some story about how Steve used to have to wear newspapers in his shoes prior to being all super soldier. Then it got quiet and Bucky was staring over at Y/N, examine every feature on her face. Y/N looked over and met his gaze, “What you worrying about?”

Bucky smiles slightly, of course she felt his worry. He looked down at the whiskey glass in his hand before placing it on the table in front of them. He stood up, pulling her up with him while his other hand grabbed her glass and put it next to his on the table. Bucky kept his flesh hand interlocked with her’s, bringing his vibranium one up to gently stroke the skin on her cheek with his finger tips, “I love you.” He breathed out to her.

Y/N smiles and tilts her head at him, “I know.” She told him, squeezing his hand lightly and taking a step closer. She licks her lips, narrowing her eyes at him.

Bucky tilted his head at her, suddenly feeling overwhelming feelings of warmth flooded his body. It felt like electricity was running through his bones, enough to power cities. It was pure happiness like he'd never felt before. It was so powerful, it felt like magic, "What're you doing, sweetheart?"

Y/N's eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, "I'm showing you how you make me feel, Bucky." She said softly to him, "Because I love you too." Bucky grinned down at her at the sound of her reciprocation of love, moving his vibranium hand to the back of her neck and pulling her face towards his, connecting their lips in a deep kiss. His tongue traced her bottom lip until her lips parted, allowing his tongue access to intertwine with hers. After a few moments, he pulled away and looked down at her with nothing but happy eyes, “You’re my girl.”

Y/N smiled at him brightly, slightly breathless from the kiss between them, “And you’re my home, Bucky Barnes.”

_____________________________________________________________

Taglist: @buckypops @stcrryslibrary @bibliophilewednesday

[astaroth1357]

Demon Brothers Getting Possessive at the Club

… I can explain. Or, well, no I can't. But this exists now anyway so enjoy?

Warnings: Possessive Behavior, Yandere-ish, Violence

Intro: The MC and their favorite demon were just trying to have a fun night out at The Fall. The lights were going, the music was blaring, and the two of them were by the bar but there was a problem. Their demon noticed a sketchy creep who'd been eyeing their human all night long… and that simply won't do. So when their human left to use the bathroom…

It was time to take care of the problem.

Lucifer

Though Lucifer was usually less than into the club scene, the MC wanted a change of pace from their usual dates and he did so want to make them happy… At first, he thought he'd just be dealing with the loud noise and crowded atmosphere but then he noticed something else…

A demon had been following them through most of the night, always keeping his distance but staring at the MC far too much for his liking…

This put Lucifer in a bit of an odd position. He didn't exactly want to leave the club because the MC didn't look tired yet, but he also didn't like seeing that cretin following them around…

Yet, of course, it also rubbed his pride the wrong way to go tell him to stop directly. Lucifer would never admit to feeling bothered by some pitiful lesser demon… Never.

But by the time the MC left him to use the restroom, he was at his wit's end. He could see the man had taken a seat at the other end of the bar just to watch them and he was growing irritated… So he had to devise a new strategy.

It's unusual for demons to walk around in their true forms. It's not that it's frowned upon or anything, it's just that it's normally something reserved for big events… or for displays of dominance and control.

So when Lucifer slipped into his demon form in the middle of The Fall, it turned quite a few heads. Truthfully, there was only one head in particular that he wanted his way, and once he got it, he stared the guy down…

It was a taste of the lowlife's own medicine, but so much worse coming from him… The feel of Lucifer's bloody-onyx eyes and chillingly cold smile from across the bar could have made even the strongest men run for the hills…

Needless to say, the demon didn't last very long under the eldest brother's gaze. In fact, he wilted almost immediately before slinking away as quickly as he could… 

A guy not even able to stomach the firstborn's stare? Truly a pathetic coward if Lucifer ever saw one.

He was totally back to normal by the time the MC returned and went back to dancing with them like nothing ever happened… Though his human couldn't help but notice the crowd kept their distance from them for the rest of the night... 

Eh, Hell is just weird sometimes isn't it?

Mammon

Look, Mammon had been trying to have some fun the whole night and for the most part he'd been succeeding except for one thing…

He could sense that asshole still hadn't left them alone. He'd just hover near him and his MC like a hellhound stalking prey… It was annoying. It was creepy…

And it was reeeaaallly getting on his nerves.

When the MC left for the restroom, he was leaning back against the bar scanning the room for their abhorrent admirer while using the tint of his sunglasses to hide his eyes.

It didn't take him long to see the gross fuck sitting alone at a table. Who knew what he was planning... following them home? Taking candid shots of MC? Either way, he wanted to sock him in the jaw…

But, of course, Mammon knew he had to play it just a little smoother than that to stay in the club.

Mammon sauntered over to the man's table and invited himself to sit, kicking his feet up to look casual but knocking his boots against the surface so roughly it made the guy jump... Pathetic.

"Oi, so I've seen ya lookin at my human… Real work of art, eh?" He flashed the guy a fanged grin and watched him sweat for a second before cutting off any answer.

"-'course they are. Don't need to tell me. But I gotta say, you're really ticking me off, bud… We're just tryin to enjoy ourselves but I keep seeing your ugly mug wherever we're at."

He pulled his legs back from the table and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a deck of playing cards.

"Tell ya what, I'm feelin oddly generous so let's play a game. You and me. If ya win, I'll let ya have a night with'em…" He fought the urge to punch the guy when he saw his eyes light up, "but if I win…"

Mammon put the deck on the table then leaned in real close, "I'll flay your skin off and gild ya skeleton in the 4th circle myself… Gold skulls are selling like hotcakes right now." He put every bit of malice he could into the threat, even barring his increasingly sharpening fangs.

The guy must of had a good head on him because he paled immediately before getting up and running from the table. If there's one thing everybody knows about Mammon, it's never play cards with him if he can make even a single Grimm… Chances are, you're gonna lose.

When the MC came back, Mammon flagged them down to their new table and pulled them onto his lap for a little chat before getting more drinks. They're his human. His.

Leviathan

Of course Levi noticed this creep the second that they walked in. He's Envy. He had been hyper-vigilant of all the attention the MC had been receiving since their first step inside. But this guy was… persistent.

He'd been tailing them all night, always finding spots with good vantage points, which of course was sketch as hell but...

Honestly? Levi just didn't like him looking at them. Not at all. In fact, he'd hazard to say he truly hated this complete stranger for how much real estate his eyes were taking up of his precious MC… What gave him the right??

By the time the MC had to use the restroom, he was sitting at the bar seriously contemplating whether or not to just carry them home… He didn't like night clubs anyway, but they seemed to be having fun and they always looked so cute while dancing…

No. He couldn't just take them home. But once they left, he had a much better idea.

It was easy for Levi to slip away from the bar. The asshole was leaned back against a nearby wall and pretty much pulled his phone out the second the MC was out of sight. From there, Levi only had to do what he did best, blend into the background, until he was right next to the guy...

He didn't say anything. He didn't give him any warning or threat. No, no he was far too ticked to be that charitable…

The only indication the man got of how royally he fucked up was the searing pain of Levi's fangs digging into his shoulder, the thirdborn's gloved hand muffling his screams until the venom took hold of his prey.

The last thing that man ever saw, propped up and paralyzed against the wall, was the MC coming back to their docile otaku, who now pulled them into his arms… still shooting the occasional smirk in his victim's direction.

And the last thing he ever heard was the same word his killer whispered to him after his throat became too tight to scream… "Mine."

Satan

This always seemed to happen whenever he took the MC places… They could be walking together in the park and he'd still see lesser demon eyes following them around...

Frankly, it did piss him off to a degree. He knew they never asked to be stared at like a piece of meat, but if he'd go on a rampage every time it happened then they'd never have a quiet date again. So he learned to put up with it… to an extent.

The demon that had been following them that night was really testing his notoriously short patience...

He had tried several tactics to shake the guy as they were dancing but he'd always come right back. He even got more handsy than normal to show, "Hey, this one is mine!" but that had gotten him equally dismal results… It was bordering the line of disrespect now.

He did his best to keep up a friendly face while the MC was with him, but they must have noticed he'd gotten tense. They told him to try and relax a bit before they left for the bathroom…

Oh, he was going to relax alright.

The second they were out of sight, Satan's smile broke into a glare he leveled right at the offending scumbag's table. Of course, seeing the MC had left put the guy's attention elsewhere, but that was his funeral.

Satan knew his time was limited, so he skipped the pleasantries and marched right over to him, slamming his foot down onto the edge of the table with such force it threatened to tip it over then grabbed him by the neck.

"Back. OFF."

It really didn't take much, his reputation preceded him. He felt the guy's pulse skyrocket between his fingers before he let him go.

It was hard not to get a little satisfaction when watching the worthless creep scramble away from him like his life depended on it (as it very much did). He almost considered giving chase just to amp up the fun, but the MC returned sooner than he expected…

A pair of arms around his waist and lips against his cheek were enough to evaporate his anger right then… but it didn't settle his sudden need to mark them in the slightest.

Ultimately, the real question was whether he could wait until they got home to show the world that they were his or if they needed to find somewhere… quieter. No promises, MC.

Asmodeus 

Asmo had dealt with his fair share of admirers, the stalking kind included. Fortunately, dealing with them had always been relatively easy for him (he is a ruler of Hell after all) but one targeting his beloved human…? That was far less acceptable in his eyes.

He caught sight of the beady eyes of the creep while he was dancing with the MC. At first, he thought the guy was looking at him (who wouldn't?) but then he followed his eyeline right to his lovely human companion…

Though he couldn't exactly blame him for staring, he and MC made a fantastic looking pair, he definitely couldn't sit idly by either. People like this are usually bad news and he refused to let any harm come to his MC…!

He was as tactful as ever, though. He liked The Fall and would rather not be banned from returning… He waited patiently for the MC to go to the bathroom before making his way over to the creep, his perfect smile still sitting on his face.

"Excuse me, cutie." He waited for the stalker's eyes to leave his phone and settle on Asmo's own. "Ah, there you are! Good. I had a question for you, I think… oh no, I must have forgotten it! Silly me."

Though he could see the demon was growing annoyed, Asmo stalled for just a few moments longer… just long enough for his bewitching charm to set into his victim's mind.

"Ah! Now I remember. Do you like dogs?" He smiled in satisfaction to see the creeper's head nod slowly. "Oh good! Because I know a very hungry dog right now… Cerberus is his name and I don't think he's had a meal today. Would you be a doll and go feed him for me? He lives in the cave behind the House of Lamentation. You can't miss him."

The demon's head nodded slowly yet again as he rose from his chair and walked out of the club quietly. Quick, painless, and with no messy cleanup!

Well… none that Cerberus wouldn't clean up for him anyway. Asmo returned to the bar with a newly giddy grin on his face... His MC wouldn't be seeing that man ever again~!

Beelzebub 

Beel is very patient. Beel is very kind. Beel is very forgiving. Beel is… really not about this right now...

Unlike his brothers, Beel's easygoing nature made him less quick to pick up on the lingering glances that the MC gets from others. Even when he does notice, he can usually let it slide if looking is all they do (he's the only one who can touch after all).

But even he couldn't miss how wolfishly that demon was staring at them… It made him uncomfortable and the guy just refused to leave them alone…

By the time the MC left Beel at the bar to use the restroom, he was on a level of irritated usually only reserved for when someone denied him food… It was like that jerk had taken a cheese grater to his patience and it was wearing thin…

As much as he knew he could deck him, he didn't want to get them kicked out… The MC was having such a good time, despite the creep's ogling, so he used a different approach…

Being so high up in Hell had its perks and one was that anywhere in town that offered food also had a secret menu… A Beelzebub Only menu (as a precaution so that he wouldn't wreck the place whenever he stopped by). Anything on his menu always had huge portions and The Fall was no exception.

The bartender didn't seem too surprised when he ordered a Drakon Leg, but he was very surprised when he asked to get the full bone too… Not with the meat on it. Just the bone.

Fun Fact: the bones of Drakons are supremely thick and strong enough to be used as clubs.

Even More Fun Fact: it takes an incredible amount of force to snap these bones…

...which Beel did without breaking a sweat… and maintaining eye contact with the creep The. Entire. Time. The sound of the bone snapping in two was almost as deafening as a gunshot and he didn't even flinch.

The demon went running out of the club with his tail between his legs and quickly got swapped out for the MC running back, worried about what made such a loud noise…

Of course, by that time Beel had the bone thrown away and was chowing down on the meat like nothing ever happened so they dropped the subject soon enough...

He may not be as open about when he claims someone as the rest of his family but that's because when push comes to shove, who in their right mind would want to challenge Beel anyway...?

Belphegor 

Nope. Nope. Nope nope nope, he's not having this. Not one bit.

Belphie lacks a lot of the good-natured patience of his twin... Chances are if there's something happening and he's not stopping it, it's just because putting up with it is the path of least resistance…

But there are always exceptions and those are usually reserved for the MC.

Strangers trying to get close or even imagining themselves being with MC really makes his blood boil… He knew them the most. He loved them the most. On just what grounds did some random moron think he could take his place?? Wishful thinking? Keep dreaming, buddy.

So, of course, he wasn't happy when he noticed some asshole staring at the MC like Beel does when he sees a havoc roast...

He kept his poker face up while he was with the MC, but he was devising a plan to take care of him the entire time… One he finally got the chance to enact once the MC went to the bathroom.

He's even better at going unnoticed than Levi, so sneaking his way over to the asshole was a piece of cake. He didn't notice until Belphie casually draped his arm around the guy's neck, hanging his clawed hand dangerously close to the scumbag's heart...

"Having a good time…?"

He could feel a shallow swallow against his arm as he began to slowly apply pressure to his trachea.

"I bet you were… and I was too until I saw you following us… Care to explain yourself?"

"I-I uh-Gah!" 

The guy's voice gets cut off by Belphie's arm getting even tighter, the sharp tips of his claws drumming directly over the man's thundering heart.

"Ugh, that's what you actually sound like? Never mind, it's not worth knowing…" His fingers stopped drumming and slowly began to dig into his skin...

"I'm only going to say this once… If I ever see you tailing my human again, you won't be needing this-" his claws drilled a little deeper into his chest, "-anymore. Am I clear?"

The demon's head nodded as much as his strangled throat would allow and Belphie finally retracted his claws, wiping the blood off on the guy's shirt before letting him go. He fell forward onto all fours before attempting to scramble away as fast as he could...

Belphie watched him go with disinterest on his face, but satisfaction in his heart. Yet another threat to his human dealt with… And they could go back to enjoying their evening together. Alone. Just where his human belonged...

[fific7]

Unexpected - Part 3

King Caspian x Reader

Summary: What happens if you push the respectful and well-behaved King Caspian a little too far? You’re about to find out.

A/N: The final chapter. This does not follow canon, it’s mainly a mix of fluff and angst with some lemon zest 🍋 Friends to Lovers AU.

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content including debatable consent at first, loss of virginity and oral and unprotected* sex between consenting adults. Some drinking & swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My video edit)

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Ever since his hasty departure from your study, Caspian had not exactly avoided you but had taken to just popping his head round the door and wishing you a cheerful good day before disappearing again. You had smiled to yourself. It certainly did seem that you had some kind of an effect on the King. You weren’t absolutely sure what that was, but it appeared to be a positive one.

You were excitedly planning an outfit for that evening as a banquet was being held to celebrate Cornelius’ birthday. No-one had mentioned how old he actually was and you weren’t sure if that was because they didn’t know or if they were just being tactful. You’d bought him three new quills as his gift, which he’d accepted gratefully as he was always snapping the tips off his.

Later that afternoon, there was a brief knock and Caspian’s smiling face appeared round your door. “You are coming to the birthday banquet tonight, aren’t you, my lady?” You nodded, “I am, Caspian.” “Well… I’ll see you there,” he grinned, and then he was gone.

Smiling, you went back to mentally reviewing the dresses in your wardrobe. Tonight you’d make sure you looked your very best for Caspian.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Meanwhile Caspian walked off down the corridor, deep in thought. He was sure that she’d noticed that he was keeping a physical distance between them the past few days, but it was the only way he could think of to avoid making a complete fool of himself. Again. Like he had the last time. His face burned every time he thought about it. She’d known why he’d rushed off, he was sure of it.

He would have to dance with her tonight. It would look strange if he didn’t, and he felt his stomach tie itself into a knot. How on earth was he going to keep himself under control? He would just have to figure out a way… somehow.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Eventually, after several changes, you’d chosen a deep ruby red velvet dress with a sweetheart neckline, your hair was artfully pinned up and you had added a sparkling necklace and earrings.

The music played, the tables were laden with food and drink and Cornelius was thoroughly enjoying himself as the centre of attention. The courtiers whirled around the room in spirited waltzes and you watched as Caspian danced with girl after girl after girl. Everyone apart from you, in fact. You had a sick sinking feeling in your stomach - it looked like you’d got it all wrong, he obviously didn’t have any feelings for you at all. You blinked fiercely as you felt your eyes fill up. Well, your mother always said pride comes before a fall, and you supposed that you’d been prideful in thinking that he felt something special for you.

Taking a large drink of your wine, you considered leaving the banquet. What use was there in staying? Just to watch Caspian dancing with all the other women, while you - a sorrowful heap of jealousy - sat in the corner by yourself? No, that was not going to be you, you thought.

Standing, you smoothed your dress and started to move out from behind the table, only for Cornelius to lightly grip your wrist. “You’re surely not going already?” he questioned you. You nodded, “Yes, my lord. I.. I have a headache and should retire to my chamber, I think.” He did not let go of you, “Oh, my lady, can’t I persuade you to stay just a little longer? It is my birthday after all!” he smiled mischievously at you. Oh, he had to make you feel guilty, didn’t he? You sighed, “Very well, my lord, just for a very short time though.” He refilled your wine cup, “Have some more wine,” he encouraged you, “I’ve heard it’s very efficacious in treating headaches!”

Laughing, you sat down and took the goblet from him. “Indeed? I confess I haven’t heard that said of wine, my lord.” Nodding vigorously, he replied, “Oh, yes - I am sure I read that recently somewhere - in a medical book or suchlike.” Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching you, one of the Kingsguard. Before you turned to look fully at him, you saw a look of annoyance flit over Cornelius’ face, before his usual small smile returned.

“May I have the pleasure of the next dance, my lady?” asked the handsome soldier, whose name you didn’t know. You nodded and stood, taking his outstretched hand and allowing him to lead you onto the dance floor. The orchestra finished playing the previous waltz, and prepared to play the next one.

Caspian’s dark eyes met yours as he straightened up from bowing to his partner. Something flashed in them and you looked away, up at your own partner. Wasn’t he happy to see you dancing with someone? Well, that was a shame, you thought - he can just have a taste of his own medicine! The music began and you and the soldier began to dance, thankfully neither of you treading on each other’s toes. You saw that Caspian was dancing with yet another lady. Hmmm, not so bothered then, you thought somewhat bitterly.

Throughout the dance, however, any time you looked towards Caspian his eyes were on you. Continuing to look away, you’d wait a few moments and look again. Yes - still looking. Now you were confused, if he didn’t care, why was he staring? Maybe it was just a ‘big brother’ kind of thing. The dance came to an end and you and your partner bowed to each other, and as you stood straight again you realised with a start that Caspian was standing slightly to the right of your soldier, gazing at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s heart had jolted in his chest when he saw her take the floor with one of his Kingsguard. Jealousy raged through his veins. She was only supposed to dance with him! He continued staring over at them as the dance progressed, barely looking at his own new partner, and as soon as the dance finished he quickly bowed, mumbled a thank you and hurried over to her and the soldier.

The soldier bowed his head to his King and took himself off at speed. Caspian was still looking at her, and eventually she cleared her throat and said, “Good evening, your Majesty,” bowed her head slightly and also started to leave the dance floor. “No!” he exclaimed, and her eyes met his again, a confused look in them. “I mean… don’t go, I was about to ask you to dance.” She gave him a small smile, “And are you asking me, your Majesty?” Now it was his turn to look confused, “Why, yes… I am,” he replied and extended his hand towards her.

Taking it, she followed him to a more central area of the dance floor and as they reached it he swung around, pulling her close against him and drinking in her scent. He heard her give a small gasp and realised what he’d done - the waltz the orchestra was playing required a side by side promenade at arms’ length for a few steps before traditional waltzing then took over. Hastily, he released her and they performed their promenade steps, before he was able to take her into his arms once more.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he breathed next to her ear, “I was overwhelmed when I saw you arrive.” She laughed, not meeting his eyes, “Really, your Majesty? I didn’t think you were even aware I was here.” “What?” he said, totally confused, “Of course I knew you were here!” She still wouldn’t meet his eyes as they moved around the dance floor. “Well, it’s just that you were so busy with all your dance partners I didn’t think that you were, your Majesty.”

Caspian felt like a thunderbolt had hit him. Of course! What a damn fool he was. He’d been so busy trying to distract himself from mooning over her, that it hadn’t dawned on him what it might look like to her - that he was totally ignoring her. He’d noticed that she’d gone back to calling him ‘your Majesty’. He desperately thought of how he could explain this without giving himself away. “Oh… no, no… I’m, I’m always aware of… of where you are,” he said then winced as he realised how lame that sounded. “I thought I would save the last dance for you,” he added, hoping this would redeem him somewhat.

She finally looked at him, a slightly reproachful look in her eyes but she didn’t speak. “I’m so sorry if it looked like I was ignoring you,” he said in a rush, “I just didn’t want to seem too eager.” She laughed but he could tell there wasn’t a lot of humour in it, “Don’t worry, your Majesty, that definitely wasn’t the impression you gave.”

Caspian was panicking. How could he be so stupid? Now she was upset with him, and he only wanted her more than ever - she looked stunning in her ruby red gown. He held her even closer to him and decided to stop talking, maybe he could just show her how he felt by holding her close. He saw her eyes widen and realised that had been a mistake too. There was no doubt that she’d felt his rampant erection, even through the heavy fabric of her dress.

He made a sudden decision and danced her rapidly across the floor back to the table, hastily sitting down and tugging her into the seat next to him. He pulled his tunic down as far as he could over the bulge in his lap and leant forward slightly, embarrassed and running his hands over his face. “Are you alright, my King?” she questioned him. He looked sidelong at her, “I think you know exactly what’s wrong with me.” Then in an even quieter voice, “The same as in the orchard that time.”

He saw a blush start to rise over her face. So she did remember it.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Oh! you thought, your mind racing back to that encounter in the gathering dusk. You had thought about it frequently over the years with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment. You knew you’d been quite forward in your curiosity, and often wondered if Caspian ever thought about it too. And now it seemed that he had. With a frisson of jealousy, you’d also wondered what other sexual experiences he’d had since.

“I… we said we’d never talk about that, Caspian.” While dancing and when he’d pulled you closer to him, you’d felt that hard length of his against your stomach and knew exactly what it meant. But now here he was, bringing up the subject himself.

“We said we’d never speak of it to other people,” he corrected you, gazing into your eyes, “but maybe we need to discuss it further between ourselves. Come, let us leave the banquet for a while so we can speak in private.” He stood up and held out his hand so you also stood, taking it and following him as he led you out of the banqueting hall, aware of the many envious glances from the other women as you left with the King.

They could think what they liked, you thought. They will know you were childhood friends, although you’d made a point of never telling that to any of them. Castle gossip will have ensured that they all knew about it in any case.

Caspian led you upstairs to one of the empty salons and outside onto the large balconied terrace which was attached to it. He knew his castle well, you thought. Due to its position in one of the towers it wasn’t overlooked by any other window or balcony, and the size of the large terrace prevented anyone from seeing anything if they looked up from the grounds.

He came to a halt and turned towards you, his eyes blazing with something - you weren’t sure what - as he looked into yours, “I…I want,” he faltered, “I need…!”

You opened your mouth to ask him what he wanted and needed but before you could speak, he pushed you up against the terrace wall, you felt his mouth on yours and he was kissing you passionately. You realised he was also raising your dress and felt the fabric creep past your knee and then halfway up your leg.

Looking down you saw that Caspian had unlaced his breeches, just as you felt his fingers brush past your undergarments. Because unlike last time, it was he who had hold of his manhood and before you fully realised what he was doing, he’d slid his erection inside you and continued to push until he was fully sheathed. You were gasping and his dark brown eyes looked more like deepest black as he stared into yours, before he lowered his head onto your shoulder, groaning and whispering your name.

“Caspian!” you eventually managed to breathe, “what are you doing?!”

“What you wanted me to do that night in the orchard,” he said through gritted teeth, his voice rough.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian gripped her hips through the dress fabric and began to thrust up into her. She’d wanted him to do this to her those few years ago, right? She’d told him he was a coward because he’d pulled out. So now he was only taking what he could’ve had under the pear trees that evening, wasn’t he?

He heard her voice, through her gasps, “We were children, Caspian, who didn’t know any better. Now we do. What if you get me pregnant?” Caspian stopped thrusting, she needed to hear the truth.

“I don’t care! I’ve wanted you every second of every day since!” his voice broke, “Don’t you realise I’ve always been in love with you?!” He leaned his head back slightly and looked into her eyes, “Tell me you don’t want me to do this and I’ll stop.” She hesitated and he immediately began thrusting again, kissing her and pulling her closer to him. Eventually he felt her fists pummelling his chest, “Caspian! Please! I can’t get pregnant.”

He stopped with a heavy sigh, resting his forehead on hers for a moment before straightening up and pulling out of her. Taking his dick in his hand he turned away from her, frantically rubbing and squeezing his length before finishing quickly, bending over slightly and catching his seed in the palm of his other hand.

Turning back towards her, he found he was looking at empty space. She was gone.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You ran as fast as your fancy dancing shoes would let you to your chamber. Throwing yourself headlong onto your bed and beginning to sob, you wondered how on earth you’d got yourself into this stupid situation. Because you teased him! your brain yelled back at you, it’s all your fault and you know it! Caspian is such a polite, shy, well-behaved boy and look what you made him do!

Eventually your tears stopped flowing and you wearily got up from the bed, struggling a little to unlace your dress at the back but eventually managing it. You’d had to learn how to do that as you didn’t have a lady’s maid, unlike at home. Having washed your face, taken down your hair and changed into your nightdress, you had just lain back down in bed and pulled the quilt over your head when you heard a single knock at your door.

You knew it was Caspian, that one knock had been a special signal between the two of you since you were children. Knowing in your heart that you shouldn’t answer it, you nevertheless got up and opened the door.

It looked as if Caspian had also been crying, his dark eyes were as wide as saucers. “I need to explain.”

You nodded and stood back, allowing him to come into your chamber.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

He locked the door behind him, he didn’t want any interruptions during the discussion he was about to have. She’d walked back to her bed and sat on the edge of it, looking down into her lap. He followed her over there, also perching on the bed next to her.

He drew in a deep breath then said in a low voice, “I’m truly sorry for what I did earlier.” He looked down, “You looked so beautiful but you danced with him, you were in his arms and I was so very jealous! I wanted you so much. But what I did was unforgivable.” He heard her exhale then she said, “I have to say, it’s not how I imagined losing my virginity, Caspian.” His head flew up, “But that… we… didn’t that happen when we…?” She shook her head, blushing, “No, not properly. You didn’t get far enough inside that time,” and looked up at him, “but you did this time.”

Now he felt himself blushing. “Oh! I always thought I lost my virginity to you that evening,” he said, “And you? That means you haven’t been with anyone else?” He held his breath and then she shook her head, her eyes downcast again. He felt an immense sense of relief, blowing out a big breath of air. There was a short silence and then he heard, “Caspian?” He looked over at her, “Yes?” “How many women have you been with since then?”

He leapt up off the bed, drawing himself up to his full height, “None!” he shouted, then as he saw her jump, lowered his voice, “I have been with no woman except you.” Suddenly he knelt in front of her, and he met her intent gaze, “I’ve never wanted anyone else apart from you.” He noticed her eyes welling up, and a few tears slid down her cheeks. He reached up and gently wiped them away, “Why are you crying, my darling?” he asked, “Doesn’t that please you?” She managed a feeble smile, “I’m crying because I am pleased to hear that, yes.”

Caspian’s brain hurt a little as he heard this; he wondered if he’d ever understand women. He decided the wisest course of action would be to remain silent and just smiled back at her, nodding as if he fully understood. She sniffled a little and then said more boldly, “Caspian, when you were… you know… earlier, you said you’d always been in love with me.”

His mind rapidly rewound to when he’d been trying to make love to her, had he said that?! He really didn’t recall - his mind had been on other things! - but as it was the truth in any case, he nodded. He took hold of her hand, “Yes, it’s the truth. I’ve loved you since I met you.” “But we were just children.” “It doesn’t matter. You’re my soulmate, I’ve always known that. It was truly awful when I had to flee the castle as I knew I wouldn’t see you - maybe ever again - but I had no choice, and I just had to try and put you out of my mind until Narnia was safe.”

He got up and sat next to her on the bed again. “It was really difficult. Just recently, everything was starting to return to normal and I was about to try and find you, when you arrived here as Cornelius’ assistant. It seemed fated that we should be together. But you kept on saying how I was your dear friend and.. and my heart broke. I was sure that’s all you felt for me - friendship.”

She shook her head, “No, Caspian. I don’t think I realised it until I came to the castle and saw you again, but I think I’ve always loved you too.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian’s face had the hugest grin on it as you finished speaking. “Really? You love me?” You nodded, “Yes, I do.” Suddenly he was back down on one knee, “Then please - make me the happiest man in Narnia and marry me!” You must have looked like an idiot with your mouth forming a large O, but eventually you managed to say “Yes!” Then he had jumped up, pulling you off the bed and wrapping his arms around you, whirling you round while you squealed and he kissed you.

After the two of you had calmed down somewhat, he left to go back to his own chambers as even although you were now betrothed, it wouldn’t be seemly for him to spend the night with you, even if you just slept in the same bed. He promised that he would have a ring for you by the next day and while you’d assured him there was no rush, he’d insisted that he wanted a betrothal ring on your finger as soon as possible.

You lay awake most of the night, too excited to sleep. It seemed incredible but all of your most precious dreams had come true.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next morning, Cornelius had appeared in front of your desk as usual and throwing aside his usual decorous manner, had hugged you. “I am so pleased to hear your news!” he declared. “I’ve never seen Caspian so happy. He was bouncing around like an over-excited rabbit this morning,” he chuckled, taking your hand and squeezing it while you laughed at his description of Caspian’s reaction. “I know the two of you will be so happy together,” he continued, “Now! We must start planning the wedding!”

When Caspian came to your study later that afternoon, he led you out from behind your desk, went down on one knee and proposed to you once again. This time, he produced a small jewellery box from his tunic pocket and opened it, showing you a ring with a large pear-shaped diamond as the centrepiece. It was beautiful and as Caspian slipped it onto your finger, he whispered, “To always remind you of the pear trees in the orchard,” with a small mischievous grin at you.

“How did you get the ring so quickly?” you asked him, as you were amazed that he’d managed to find such a beautiful, perfect ring in the space of one morning. He’d winked at you, “I have my contacts, that’s all I’m going to say.” You never did find out for sure, but there was one diamond merchant in the town nearest to Cair Paravel who had similar gems and you thought it might be from there.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

One thing you did know for sure, the other ladies of the court’s eyes were out on stalks as they glimpsed your new ring when you joined them for dinner that evening. Every single one of them was praying you were going to tell them to whom you were now betrothed and eventually - when you had still said nothing and dinner was nearly over - one of them could keep quiet no longer.

“My lady… umm, I cannot help but notice your beautiful ring!” You dipped your head, “Why thank you, my lady,” you replied. She smirked at you, “But you are not willing to share the name of your betrothed with us?” You shook your head, a faux-regretful look on your face, “I cannot as yet, my lady. My betrothed has to be the one to announce it,” you went on, with a small shrug. Of course, this just meant that their curiosity ate them up even more.

But Caspian had advised you that he had to firstly tell the Grand Council, then your parents, the courtiers and the people of Narnia in that order - that was the accepted, traditional procedure and that was that. So you had to keep quiet, although in truth you were literally bursting to tell everyone!

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

When the news was finally announced, everyone showered congratulations onto you and Caspian. Although you did get the feeling that the other ladies of the court gave their best wishes through gritted teeth and with fake smiles. You knew that they were secretly devastated as you’d won the prize they had been trying to win, and you felt slightly sorry for them as you knew you’d have felt the same if Caspian had asked one of them to marry him.

In the meantime, Cornelius - much to your surprise - had indeed become almost your sole wedding planner, and very good at it he was too! He’d already arranged just about everything. In fact the only thing you had left to worry about choosing was your dress.

Caspian was getting nervous about the actual ceremony; he was worried he was going to forget his vows when he tried to say them to you. You had just told him, “Make them up! As long as you mean them, it doesn’t matter what you actually say.” He’d laughed, pulling you into his arms and kissing you hungrily, but then the two of you had to spring apart as two female courtiers appeared round the corner without warning. You’d all nodded to each other; they pretended they hadn’t seen you and Caspian kissing, and you two pretended you hadn’t been caught.

Until you were married this was frowned on in public, in what you considered to be one of various out-dated court traditions. You’d be shaking up some things once you were Queen, you smiled to yourself.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Caspian was super-excited on his wedding day. He was nervous, yes - but it was a good nervous. Apart from the fact that in a few moments he’d be joined together for all eternity to the woman of his dreams, tonight, their wedding night, they would finally - finally - be able to make love properly. He couldn’t wait.

Their first two attempts hadn’t exactly been stellar successes - and of course, they shouldn’t even have been trying the first time around! - but he just knew that it would be third time lucky. No guilty childish fumblings, no adult angry/jealous sex… it would be just the two of them, lying in amongst the crisp cotton sheets and deep quilts of their marital bed. No prying eyes, no interruptions, no rush - it would be just heavenly. He already felt a little thrill of arousal.

He heard the musicians begin to play the joyful wedding music and he turned to see his beautiful bride - in a gorgeous white dress and holding a bouquet of delicate white flowers - bathed in sunlight and standing in the entranceway. Would he ever feel as happy as this again, he wondered? He didn’t think he would.

She paused for a few seconds and then began to walk gracefully across the Great Hall towards him. Approaching him, through her veil she met his gaze and gave him a dazzling smile.

His smile in return was even brighter and totally blissful.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@paracosmenthusiast @jessevans

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

[ryeimagines]

Anchor - Liam Dunbar Imagine

Based on this prompt. Word count 1496. I’m not really sure about this one but I hope that you enjoy it. I’m a bit rusty, getting back into the swing of things so please be kind. You can kind of see it as a pre slash, up to interpretation. 

The banging on your window woke you from your slumber, a soft moan escaping your throat as you suddenly found yourself on the floor instead of the comfortable you remembered falling asleep in. Dazed you slowly rose on your feet, it took you a minute to remember what had woken you in the first place. It wasn’t an unusual occurrence for the occasional nightly visits from your best friend, spending more time in your bedroom than in his own house to the point you had a routine in place. Things weren’t always so easy though, it took a while for him to be comfortable enough to stay around, let alone fall asleep. You knew he had anger issues which often got him into trouble.

That was, before he suddenly did a one eighty out of no-where and pulled the disappearing act on you, always finding excuses to not hang out, or forgetting plans you’d made. It had been weeks since he set foot in your room, and frankly you were getting close to losing it. You knew something big had happened and what was hurt the most wasn’t even the fact that he suddenly had a new group of friends he hung out with or forgetting about you, it was the fact that your best friend was hurting and you couldn’t do anything to help, he didn’t tell you about it. And now here he was, showing up out of nowhere after ghosting you like nothing ever happened.  

“What do you want Dunbar?”You tried your best to sound indifferent, but it fell a bit short. A pained noise made you turn around to face him.

“Liam.” The brief rush of relief of seeing him with your own two eyes was overtaken by a wave of fear meeting his gaze, finally taking full notice of his state, eyes glowing yellow. He growled, unwittingly making you take a step back in response. Something was seriously wrong. You’ve seen him mad before, in every kind of emotion really but never anything like this. He looked wild, animalistic, ready to tear someones’ throat out. It was the first time you had ever been afraid of him, sensing the danger that you were in. But it was still your best friend, no matter what he did, or whatever strange new stuff he was into. Whatever it was, you could fix this, you wouldn’t leave him. Which is why you went against your gut and stepped into his personal space, inches from his face without breaking his gaze, moving slowly not to startle him.

“Liam, I-”You faltered for a second, not sure what to say. “I don’t know what’s going on with you, or why you have claws all of the sudden, believe me that’s something we will discuss later, but something is up with you and I need you to snap out of it. This isn’t you. You are Liam Dunbar, my best friend, one of the kindest and most loyal people I know. I know you’re not going to hurt me, you can’t.” A soft whine came from the boy in front of you and you took it as encouragement to slowly raise your hand and touch his cheek, fingers brushing against the sharp fangs that were coated in crimson. 

“Come back to me. I need you. Whatever this is you’re going through, we can work it out together. I’m right here. Always. You’re not a bad person, you’re not a monster. You have a choice. I know you will do the right thing, you always do.” Please, come back to me. 

You were surprised by fingers gently brushing against your wrist, opening your eyes to meet familiar pools looking back at you with apprehension and pain and something you couldn’t quite put a name on. Your body moved on instinct and you found yourself clinging onto him before you knew what you were doing. After the shock had worn off, your brain started buzzing with unanswered questions that you had put on hold until now, begrudgingly untangling yourself from his arms. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.” He smiled sheepishly, fidgeting with his shirt. “You okay? I didn’t hurt you or anything?”

“I’m fine.” You assured him, glad he couldn’t see the bruises that would most likely appear soon on your arm where he grabbed it a little too tight at some point.

“What’s going on with you? Don’t you dare give me that nothing bull. You came in here soaked and covered in blood. I’m hoping it isn’t yours by the way. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s a long story. You should probably sit down.” You did, sensing the seriousness in his voice. 

“Okay so, werewolves, very much real.” 

That was your introduction to the supernatural world, and everything werewolf. That was quite the shock, you were glad you heeded his advice. He kept sending you looks through out his explanation and you urged him to keep going, you needed to know it all. That was a lot to take in, part of you were mad that he didn’t come to you sooner about this, but more than anything you were afraid. Terrified. For him, of all these people and supernatural creatures who wanted to hurt him. You were thankful to Scott for saving his life but also pissed that he put him in danger like this, which you weren’t shy to let him know the first time you joined Liam at one of their pack meetings, introducing his face to a bat. 

“You better keep him safe McCall. If he get’s hurt out there, it’s on you.” He nodded quietly nursing his bloddy nose, recognising the truth in your words. “Good, we understand each other.” You grinned, a little satisfied at the gleam of fear in his eyes. 

“You’re going to fit in perfectly.” Lydia snorted, gesturing for you to come over to join her. “I could use some help with this research, these ingrates are no help whatsoever. ” 

“Hey!” Stiles interjected from where he was laying on the couch, eyes still glued to the screen. “I helped. I’m just taking a break.”

“I’d love to.” You ended the conversation there before it got any further, returning Liam’s smile before burying your head in the books. It was all you did for the next couple of days, researching everything supernatural. Lydia introduced you to the bestiary, containing every possibly nightmare you could imagine. When you weren’t researching, you spent the time interrogating the pack and asking questions. You made it clear from day one that you two were a package deal, wherever Liam went you followed. The younger Hale was the only one who protested your precedes, letting out a disgruntled growl from where he was lurking. You ignored him. Apparently his uncle was even worse, you weren’t to keen to find that out for yourself though.

There was one thing that kind of bothered you, that kept on creeping up on you when you least expected it. Remembering that night, and the state he was in, and then being totally fine again. Actually, there was a couple of things but you hadn’t talked about it. Part of you was hesitant, but the other was growing more impatient each day and that was the one that finally won out one afternoon a couple of weeks after the incident took place. It just kind of came out, you were not really a person of tact, blurting it out over the kitchen table at dinner, causing him to start coughing like crazy. 

“So why did you show up in my room exactly? I mean, I get that you went kind of feral, but why did you show up here? Did you meant to do that?”

“Uh.” He shrugged, finally collecting himself. “I don’t know, it wasn’t really a conscious choice. I just felt this instinct to run to safety. Home.”

“My house?”

“No, I was running to you. There’s something about you that helps me stay in control. My wolf feels safe around you. I remember them trying to talk to me but it didn’t work. Only with you.”

“Oh.”

“I talked with Scott about it, and what he said made sense. I didn’t really know how to tell you so I just kept quiet about it but. You’re my anchor.” You sat speechless, wondering how he could be so calm about this new development, like it wasn’t a big deal. You had stumbled across anchors before during your deep dives, and there was a lot to it. You weren't sure if you should feel happy or terrified at the prospect that he put so much fate in you, essentially his humanity in your hands. 

“Why me?” You finally managed, voice hoarse. 

“It’s always been you, you were always there. Who else would it be? I trust you, I need you. Me being a werewolf means a lot of changes, but not that. You’re the one thing I’ve never doubted.”

[haikyuuuuuhypeeeee]

Ch. Fifteen

⚠WARNING: Mention of previous character's death

• ────── ✾ ────── •

You set your phone down and look at Oikawa’s prone body lying next to you.

Once you returned to your apartment Oikawa was 99% asleep - you’re really not sure how he was able to put one foot in front of the other, but he did. You were going to deposit him into your bed but Oikawa was clinging to you like an octopus. So instead you let gravity do the work and you both had fallen backwards onto your comforter and pillows.

Oikawa didn’t even bother moving to get underneath the blankets before he properly fell asleep, mouth open and everything. He remained clutched to your arms, and you were helpless to try and escape from under him.

Ever since they were children, Oikawa always had to cling to someone and he’d be especially clingy when he was upset (which given today wasn’t surprising that you couldn’t pry yourself from his grip.) Since you, Oikawa and Hajime all lived in the same neighborhood since elementary, you had frequent sleepovers at each other’s homes. And sure enough, every time Oikawa would subconsciously choose you or Hajime to cling to while sleeping.

Hajime absolutely hated it but you didn’t mind.

Watching your friend sleep you can't help but give a sad little smile. He looks peaceful and so young in sleep. You know he’s the furthest from innocent right now, and he has a lot of work ahead of him to fully earn your trust back. But you wish that he wasn’t tortured with the troubles that plague you all.

A knock at the door makes you sit up. Oikawa’s face pinches at the motion, and you speak to him. “Mattsun and Makki are here, but you can sleep if you want.”

His reply is a sleepy grumble but he too sits up. You know that despite him only getting a few hours of sleep he won’t want to be left alone in your room. Together, with Oikawa leaning on you, you walk to the door and let in your friends. Mattsun raises his eyebrows at the sight of a clingy and exhausted Oikawa hanging off your frame but you just shrug. Makki seems to take pity on you as he drags Oikawa off and over to the couch, handing his coat off to Mattsun to hang up.

“Thanks for coming over,” you tell Mattsun. “I’m gonna put the kettle on and order some lunch.”

Mattsun nods. “Whatever you need to do.” He gives you a small smile and leaves you in the apartment entrance. You can recognize that he’s giving you space and letting you set the boundaries for the conversation to follow, and you appreciate his tact.

After you order the take out and make tea you enter your living room and see Makki and Mattsun sharing your couch. Oikawa is slumped in your armchair, eyelids drooping as he tries to stay away.

“Oikawa you can go back to sleep if you want.” You offer after setting down the tray with tea. He shakes his head at you as you pass out mugs but doesn’t verbalize.

“Okay, if you’re sure.” You settle on the ground by the coffee table, choosing to face your friends instead of sitting next to them. It’s quiet for a few minutes while everyone relaxes in their seats and sips the jasmine tea you’ve made. There’s a tangible tension in the air, stemming from the second Oikawa opened his mouth at the restaurant last night to this very moment. Mattsun and Makki are waiting for you to initiate, for in their eyes you were ready to tear Oikawa limb from limb yesterday and today you greeted them at the door with your tall friend clinging to you.

Plus there's the whole you loving Hajime thing that should be addressed.

You know that your friends would never, ever push you to discuss it. But they’re probably wondering why they weren’t privy to the info, why Oikawa was, and if you don’t trust them or something. The last thing you want is to make your friends doubt the relationship you have with them, so you’re ready to clear the air and address the elephant in the room.

“I love Hajime.” You say. Everyone looks up from their tea to you. “I’ve been in love with him since the first year of high school, I think.”

Predictably, you’re met with matching sad looks. But even though you knew it was coming, you still can’t squirm uncomfortably at the pity you feel coming from them. This was exactly why you didn’t want anyone to know, especially now.

“Were you ever going to tell him?” Mattsun asks quietly.

You shrug, both at his question and the uneasiness settling in your gut “I didn’t feel like I needed to at the time. We were still in high school, still living life. I was happy with our friendship and I didn’t think anything more.” You smile ruefully. “If anything I think I was more worried about not being friends with him anymore if a confession went south.

“Honestly, I didn’t think that there would be a day that I wouldn’t be able to tell him how I felt. Even if I grew out of those feelings, part of me thought I’d be able to confess some day. I don’t regret our friendship, not when I wanted more. But I do regret not being upfront about my feelings with Hajime. He was my best friend, and I should’ve been able to tell him anything.”

You feel tears prick at your eyes and you look down at your tea. “We all have wonderful memories with Hajime, and I will never ever forget him. But it sucks, because while the memories are wonderful I can’t help but think how much better they could’ve been if I told him how I felt about him.”

You sniff, holding back your tears. You look back up and see Oikawa wiping his eyes and Makki sniffling.

Mattsun is looking at you with a serious expression. “I don’t want to go through hypotheticals or explore ‘what ifs,’ but I don’t think I’m alone in saying that Iwazumi cared for you differently than he did us. And I don’t think it was because you were best friends growing up with Oikawa, because he hated Oikawa.”

“Hey!” Oikawa pipes up from his spot, but there’s no real heat behind it.

Mattsun shifts, clearing his throat. When he speaks again his voice is rough with emotion. “You were precious to him, and his actions reflected how much he cared for you.”

You recognize that Mattsun is not outright saying the L-word but his careful alluding makes you smile tearfully. “I know, and he’s always going to hold a special place in my heart.”

Nobody says anything to that, and the room is blanketed with silence again.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Makki asks quietly, subdued. “Oikawa knew, but me and Issei didn’t.”

You sigh, your chest tight at the wounded look on Makki’s face. “I didn’t mean for Oikawa to find out. And I didn’t want to hide it because I didn’t trust you. But I just didn’t know how to bring it up, especially after Hajime passed away. I just,” you pause, sighing. “We’re all struggling, and I didn’t want you to think differently of me, or I didn’t want you to think that your feelings weren’t valid.”

It’s a lame excuse, but it’s probably the best way you can explain your thoughts. You’re not sure if their feelings are stronger or lesser than yours but you don’t need to know. The varying levels of grief people feel do not need to meet a criteria to be judged. Just because you love Hajime beyond the level of friendship that Oikawa, Mattsun or Makki probably love Hajime doesn’t mean that you “win” the game of grief.

“Y/N,” Mattsun says softly. “We’re your friends, and we want you to come to us with anything. Well, anything you feel comfortable sharing, which I guess in this case you weren’t comfortable with.” Mattsun pauses, it looks like he’s struggling to pick his words. “I do feel pain for you, but mainly because you’ve been dealing with these thoughts alone. I’m sorry if we ever gave you the impression that you couldn’t talk to us.”

You shake your head. “It’s not that, I swear. I just didn’t want to burden you all.”

Mattsun sighs. “I understand, and I don’t want to push you to share anything you don’t want to. But we love Iwaizumi, and if you want to talk about him or need to talk about him, know you can always come to us.”

Makki and Oikawa nod in agreement. You feel your eyes sting again but you smile, because you have the most kind and generous friends you could ask for. Hindsight is 20/20, but your heart does feel lighter knowing that your friends won’t ostracize you or anything because you love Hajime.

“We should’ve known that Oikawa would’ve just confronted Y/N straight on, he’s always been a jerk like that.” Makki says teasingly, trying to lighten the mood.

But instead of squawking in protest or complaining dramatically, Oikawa nods. “Yeah, I’m an asshole.”

Makki’s smile instantly shifts into an uncomfortable frown. “Oikawa, I was just joking -”

“But you’re right.” Oikawa cuts him off firmly. “And I’ve been even worse the past few months. I haven’t been taking care of myself like I should, and I’m sorry taking my frustrations out on you guys.” He takes in a breath. “I’m going to take a break from volleyball so I can make time for my therapy sessions.”

You, Mattsun and Makki all share the same look of surprise. “Oikawa, are you sure?” You can’t help but think back to Oikawa’s reason for not wanting to quit volleyball, and part of you feels guilty for suggesting he take away the strong connection he had to Hajime.

But Oikawa gives you a weak smile. “If Iwa-chan were here, he would call me a dumbass for not taking care of myself.”

“Yeah, he’d probably call you a dumbass and throw a volleyball at your head.” Makki adds. Oikawa squawks at the tease, making everyone in the room laugh.

You smile as you watch Oikawa snap back at Makki, with Mattsun egging them both on. They fall into a routine they’ve established since high school. The one missing component - Hajime either ignoring Oikawa’s calls for backup or sharing comistering looks with you - is obvious, but it doesn’t hurt as much. Your friends’ presence in your apartment fills you with warmth and comfort, like a warm blanket at the end of a hard day.

A knock at the door disrupts your thoughts and you stand to grab the takeout. Mattsun goes to the kitchen to grab plates and utensils, while Oikawa and Makki continue to squabble in the living room. You and Mattsun return to the living room at the same time, causing Makki and Oikawa to call a truce and grab food. There’s a comfortable silence in your apartment as you all fill your plates and settle. As you dig in, an errant thought comes to your mind.

“Oikawa, how do you know where Osamu lives?”

Oikawa speaks around the noodles shoved in his mouth. “I have a fan who works in the registrar’s office and it wasn’t hard to bribe her to look it up.”

“Yeah, that’s something we haven’t talked about yet.” Makki notes, looking right at you.

You avoid his gaze. “About Oikawa’s fans? Yes, it’s ridiculous how crazy they are.”

“That’s not what I was talking about and you know it.”

You glance up, sighing at the looks of intrigue on Makki and Mattsun’s faces. “I was upset last night, and I left my keys at his place. He let me stay because I was upset. We’re just friends.”

Mattsun purses his lips at you, but Makki has a thoughtful look.

“Well, he’s pretty cute. If Mattsun ever gets tired of me I might have to give him a call.”

“Shut up,” you hiss. You know you’re just playing into his trap, and hell would have to freeze over before Mattsun and Makki broke up but you couldn’t even hold back your distaste at the idea.

The smirk on Makki’s face only grows. “Oh, is Osamu into possessiveness?”

“Excuse me?” You ask darkly.

“He said you were possessive.” Oikawa helpfully supplies with his mouth full of food. You’re about to yell at him for manners when Mattsun speaks up.

“You’re different around him.”

Uh oh, he’s using the same voice he used earlier when talking about Hajime and you. He’s not teasing you.

“Different how?” You ask quietly.

He shrugs. “Different, like how you acted around Iwaizumi.”

His observation is met with silence, Makki glancing at Mattsun nervously and Oikawa gazing directly at you.

“Do you like Osamu-kun?” Oikawa asks.

“Wow, yet again Oikawa is not scared to ask the hard questions!” Your attempts at deflection do not go well, as Mattsun serves you an intense look.

“Do you like him?”

You push back, rolling your eyes. “I think you guys know more than anyone that I’m in no state to be in a relationship right now.”

“That’s not what we’re asking.” Oikawa replies. He’s still staring at you, but it’s not a mean look on his face. Neither Mattsun nor Makki are looking at you meanly either, but all three of your friends’ eyes bore into you. Oikawa speaks up again. “Do you feel differently about Osamu compared to me, Mattsun and Makki?”

Your first instinct is to say no because you do see him as you see your friends. You think of all of the conversations you’ve both had about school and classes. And you think of all the stories you’ve shared about growing up in Sendai and your likes, dislikes.

You would even say that you and Osamu are best friends, given how much you’ve relied on him when it comes to dealing with Iwaizumi. A twinge of guilt twists in your stomach as you worry that maybe you rely on him too much. He has his own burdens to carry.

But at the end of the day, you just know that he’d be there for you. And he’s shown time and time again that he will be there for a late night phone call or a shoulder to cry on.

Even those late night text conversations when you’re too scared to fall asleep. Or how the way he supports is different to Makki, Mattsun and Oikawa.

But why? Why is it different?

Is it because he didn’t know the Y/N you were when you were younger? He didn’t know the Y/N that existed before high school?

He doesn’t know you from before Hajime died. He’s seen this raw, broken-down version of you. And he still wants to talk to you. He still wants to hang out and get coffee and be with you.

And in return, you know this raw, broken-down version of Osamu. Honestly, you could care less if the Osamu you never knew was the richest man in the world, or the smartest man alive. The Osamu now has been shaped and has grown from every experience he’s lived, the good and the bad. And everytime you talk you find out more about him that draws you in more. You’re never going to be satisfied until you find out everything about him. You’re not sure if it’s obsession or infatuation, but every little fact you unearth brings you a joy that you haven’t felt in some time.

You revel in the small expressions he shows around you and your ability to decipher his mood based on those looks. You shine when he focuses on you, his intense gaze indicating that he’s giving you his full attention on you and only you.

You felt safe with the strong arm around your shoulders when you felt like breaking. You felt comforted when he wiped your tears from your face.

You felt loved.

You look up at your friends, amazed.

“Oh my god, I think I like Osamu.”

The boys nod their head at you, none of them surprised by your revelation. You look down at your full plate, appetite long gone. You honestly can’t believe you’ve been so blind. Looking back it was so OBVIOUS that you’ve had feelings for Osamu for a long time.

Another thought crosses your mind, much more displeasing than your realizing your feelings for Osamu. “I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship though.”

The boys nod at you again. This time Oikawa isn’t able to hold back his eyes roll. “Well obviously.”

You shrink down, feeling a new level of low. There’s no way you could try to pursue a relationship with Osamu, not now. But what if he wants to? What if he returns your feelings and wants to date you? Or worse, what if he doesn’t accept your feelings and doesn’t want to be your friend anymore?

“Y/N-chan, get out of your head.” Oikawa sing-songs, and it does bring you out of your head. You look at him and frown.

“I don’t know what to do.”

“Babe, you don’t have to do anything.” Makki replies.

“But I want to.” You say instantly. “I mean, I think I want to, or I should?”

“But you know that you’re not in the right headspace to pursue a relationship now.” Mattsun reminds you gently. “And making sure you’re healthy enough to give the relationship all that you can is important.”

You nod sadly, agreeing. But your face must display your disappointment, so Oikawa sets his plate down and comes to sit by you.

“Look, just take it day by day. Nothing really has to change, you just have a different outlook on your relationship with Osamu.” He grabs your hand and holds it in both of his. “Instead of looking through a plain window, you’re looking through a stained glass window, right? It’s still Osamu out there, and he’s still the same person you like and want to be with. But now your relationship with him is richer and more vibrant. Even if you can’t act on your feelings now, you still have this new and beautiful view.”

You stare at Oikawa, dumbfounded. Mattsun and Makki look equally surprised at the deep and meaningful comparison Oikawa pulled out of nowhere.

“Wow,” Makki eventually says. “I didn’t know you could be so romantic, Oikawa.”

“Excuse you, I’m very romantic!” Oikawa snaps back indignantly. “Anyway, Y/N-chan, I guarantee that Osamu will be willing to wait. He’ll be patient, especially with you.”

“What would you know about patience?” Makki asks, genuine confusion in his voice.

Oikawa snaps again wordlessly, his tone shrill. You and Mattsun laugh, and the rest of the day is filled with everyone laughing and teasing each other.

At some point you take a second to look at your friends and smile. Your lives are unimaginably hard, and Hajime missing from these get-togethers still makes your heart ache. But with Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki here to soothe the pain, you know you can get through the worst of it.

• ────── ✾ ────── •

A/N: Okay, so all the cards on the table - I cried during the entire writing process with this chapter - planning it, drafting it, writing it, finalizing it AND even reviewing it. It’s not the first time I’ve had emotional reactions to my own writing, but it’s the first time it’s been such a visceral reaction. Not only is it so satisfying to see that small character growth from Oikawa, but the character growth from Y/N was oh so satisfying. She is FINALLY opening up to her friends, and they are FINALLY having a conversation that has been MONTHS in the making. She isn’t scared to suppress her feelings anymore, and she FINALLY trusts herself to open up to her friends, despite her subconscious trying to protect her from being vulnerable in front of those she cares about. If you’re reading this now, please know that there is NOTHING wrong with being open and forthcoming about your feelings. The people in your life who love you unconditionally, including me, will THANK you for it. 💖💖💖 Okay, gonna go cry again after writing this A/N LOLOLOL.

Taglist Open! Please send an Ask with the request to be added to It’s [Not] Okay Fic & SMAU: @psycho-nightrose @camcam1617 @kamalymaly @toobsessedsstuff @shookykookie30 @roro-707 @qualitygiantshoepsychic @cerealfrdinner797 @ara-mitsue @gray-444 @tanakasimpcorner @rintarovibes @jellien @everytimeswift @bongofrito @babucrow @beidouluvr @kozuken-ma @imarriedachef

[psalm22-6]

Monseigneur Myriel speaks of Les Misérables (1912, 1934)

What I learned from this is that Colm Wilkinson is not the first Valjean to later play Myriel in a film adaptation...Henry Krauss played Valjean in Capellani’s 1912 adaptation and then played Myriel in Bernard’s 1934 adaptation. This article is mostly him listing the actors in the two but it was still fun to read and includes some cute anecdotes...notably I thought it was interesting that in 1933 he was also playing Valjean in a stage adaptation and that people were excited for the play because they were looking forward to the movie. Also was happy to see Jean Toulout’s name pop up (1925 Javert) to find out that he was still playing Javert 9 years later.

[Source: L’Image, 1933]

Mme Charlotte Barbier-Krauss, the devoted housekeeper of M. Madeleine-Harry Baur, takes pity upon seeing my disappointment. 

“My husbands is at the clinic, Madame, but he is already recovering. He will gladly receive you and I am certain that he will take great pleasure in speaking to you about Les Misérables…it will distract him…”

All the same, it was not without scruples that I had arrived at the rue de Texel, at the Léopold Bellan foundation. I was going to bother an invalid in order to hear the memories of he who played Jean Valjean in 1912, in the original silent film version, and 20 years later, played Bishop Myriel, under the direction of Raymond Bernard…

As soon as I entered into the well lit little bedroom, I felt all my apprehensions melt away. Rosy skinned and smiling, sitting with an open book, it was truly a man on the mend who greeted me. His quilted collar and white knit vest lent more color to his face than the threadbare cassock of the Bishop of Digne. But his good grace, his soft voice, his measured gestures, Henry Krauss certainly had no problem lending them to the character: it comes naturally to him. 

And his white hair still flows like a wave- just like when it was still brown and I was a very young girl- and which moved the hearts of all the women of Brussels. 

“Ah! Monsieur,” I say, “From nights spent watching Le Bossu or l’Alhambra!...and la Reine Margot!...all of Brussels was at your feet!...though I must admit to you that my heart wasn’t beating for you…It oscillated between your brother Charles Krauss and the romantic Henry Soyer, both of whom are dead now. I never knew which I preferred, which is to say, as far as sentiments, you didn’t exist to me, though you were the most famous of the group and the idol of my natal city! It would have been more tactful if I didn’t reveal this to you today. Please tell me that you’ll forgive me?” 

“I forgive you, my child! You know that Monseigneur Myriel holds no grudges. Take a seat there, the sun setting behind you will provide the most beautiful lighting that a picky camera operator could ask for.  When the question of lighting comes to the forefront, when cinema understands light as well as Renoir or like Rembrandt, what beautiful images they’ll show to the masses! But…what exactly is it you want me to talk about?” 

“Tell me about yourself, about Les Misérables, and about one in relation to the other.” 

“About myself? I was already ill when Raymond Bernard asked me to play the role of Monseigneur Myriel, and to conserve myself a little I would leave the studio as soon as my work finished, and so I would never see the regular screenings. So I have no idea ‘how it’s going’ and I’m sorry for it because I would like to be sure that it’s going well…for I’ve always doubted myself….but it’s too late to change it.” 

“How do you feel presently?”

“I am recovering at full speed! And cared for wonderfully, with devotion that I can’t praise enough. I sense that speaking about theater and cinema today will do me a great amount of good!” 

“Les Misérables will really have counted for something in your life.” 

“Well yes. I was Jean Valjean in the first silent version; It was in the second version that Gabriel Gabrio played the role. I also played, just recently, Jean Valjean at the Ambigu theater. The success seemed unlikely to me, the play was poorly constructed, it wasn’t written very well, we were anticipating the release of the film in autumn, a film that has a thousand advantages that the play has not, in short, I thought that the public would shun us. And well! Not at all, it was me who was wrong! It was a big, a very big success. People were crying over the scene between Jean Valjean and Monseigneur Myriel! The Parisian public has been living for months in the imaginary company of Cosette, M. Madeleine, and Fantine…they are interested in them…Thanks to the film we are speaking of, Victor Hugo’s novel is back in vogue and the play benefited from that! 

“That’s what I would have predicted. I believe you reprised the role of Jean Valjean after having played the Bishop of Digne in the studio?” 

“Yes and that permitted me to better understand the importance of their encounter, which changed the life of the runaway convict…I believe…it seems to me that I rendered more delicately the interior and definite transformation of my character, which Monseigneur Myriel’s goodness illuminated in his soul. 

“In the first film, who played Monseigneur Myriel?” 

“A great actor: Léon Bernard. Javert, was played by Etiévant. That is a role that is lucky: in the latest revival at the Ambigu theater, he was played by my friend Jean Toulout [Javert in the 1925 film], an actor like few others. In Raymond Bernard’s film, he is played by Charles Vanel, who’s talent I don’t have to extol to you. By the way, this role suits him wonderfully, because too many people forget that while Javert is a brutal and perhaps heavy handed incarnation, he is also profoundly sincere and guided by conscience. Is there anyone more conscientious than Charles Yanel?

Thénardier was first played by Millot [Émile Mylo]; today he’s played by Charles Dullin; I did not have the chance to meet him at the Joiville studio, but I acted with him in the Brother Karmazoff; I know what a powerful hand he shapes his characters with. We can be sure that his Thénardier will be a striking figure, just like the Madame Thénardier of Marguerite Moreno will be. No actor is able, more so than she is, to renew herself, to transform herself. Yesterday she was the ideal interpreter of poets, a muse with an exquisite voice. Today she is a lucid fantasy, always appearing teasing and measured. 

In 1912, in Paul Capellani’s film, Gillenormand was played by Lerand, who was a good strong actor. Today he’s played by Max Dearly, for whom there is no role not made to his size. Big roles, he’s big enough for them. Small roles, he is at ease in them too. 

Enjolras was played by Jean Angelo…who later made so many hearts flutter…today he’s played by Vidalin, of la Comedie-Francaise. When I was in charge of certain scenes, along with Abel Gance, in his film Napoleon, I chose Vidalin to play Camille Desmoulins, that shows the high regard I hold. The poor and charming Francine Mussey played Lucie Desmoulins. 

Marius, that’s Jean Servais, who proved himself in Brussels and in Paris in the Compagnie du Marais and who has a spirited and charming youthfulness. The first Marius was Gabriel de Gravone…He had big black eyes, an olive complexion, and curly hair… after the matinees at the Park Theater in Brussels, this was around 1908, all the young girls held out pens and postcards to the youth. And he would sign them….he was more intimidated than they were! 

And Jean Valjean, that was me. Today he’s played by my good friend Harry Baur…A man of good taste, culture, intelligence, to him art is second nature and he is incapable of uttering a false note…”

“Would you like to speak of any of the other women, apart from Moreno-Thénardier?” 

“Why yes! I will first off tell you what a joy it was for me to have as my ‘sister,’ my exquisite friend Marthe Mellot, who we don’t see enough of. She also acted with me in Brussels in a play by Paul Spaak that was very successful. She’s a charming woman with a lot of talent. I know that it’s just a little role, she is not on screen long, but it’s an important time because of the influence it has on the whole life of Jean Valjean.”

“I know that the role of passer-by, a small part in its length but extremely important because of the influence it had on the whole life of Jean Valjean, is held by Blanche Denège, who I saw many times backstage when she was acting in La Fleur des Pois [this one is kind of a mystery to me, I can’t find her connection to Les Miserables. My only guess is that she was uncredited in the role of Baptistine in the 1912 adaptation? But she seems too young.] 

Florelle, who I acted with in Berlin, will be a very touching Fantine; it was Ventura who played the role in 1912. I never had the occasion to works with Orane Demazis, but like you I have applauded her on the stage and on the screen and I think that she will give a strong performance in the many complex faces of Eponine. Do you know who played the first Eponine on film, if I dare to say it?”

“I have no idea.” 

“Mistinguett. She was quite simply stunning, and never has anyone deserved success as much as she does!  To tell the truth, she took us all by surprise with her moving power, with…I don’t know…it is inexpressible yet very expressive.  

Josseline Gael is a new comer but has already shown her potential, notably under the direction of Jacques Tourneur in Tout ça ne vaut pas l’amour. 

And the young Gaby Triquet already has a well established reputation. I wish her much luck as the young Cosette, like the success which once welcomed the young Maria Fromet, who is today a performer at the Theater du Gymnase. 

“And what of Gavroche?” 

“Gavroche, that role is gold! The sparrow in the city! I will let myself say that Emile Genevois is an enchanting example of that formidable and charming creature.” 

The sun had moved from my left shoulder to my right, the “beautiful light of the setting sun” had faded and a nurse appeared armed with a thermometer but smiling nonetheless and I took my leave of the ensemble of Karainozoff, Lagardere…and Monseigneur Myriel, taking with me the joy of having brought back old memories from one of our most brilliant actors.

[lilyrachelcassidy]

Birthday Cake

A/N: Suprise folks!!! *me laughing maniacally* The whole scenery for this fic somehow appeared in my head and I just COULDN’T let it slip away, so... My biggest inspo for that was @drawlfoy!! Remember her posting the fic where Draco and Reader work at McDonald’s and are total suckers in their job (arguing with the customers; preparing wrong orders; etc.)? Dee unfortunately, deleted this precious, but it’s stuck to my head ever since (lol lol, it’s the moment where Dee wants to get rid of something, but I kindly remind everyone it existed). Therefore I present to you the next Draco x Reader fic related to our fav fast-food rest. This time, however, they’re not working at the same workplace but... I'm going to stop here cuz I don't want to spoiler :P

**The second thing that triggered me to write this fic is the YouTube video I recently saw with a lady who orders the 'specials' appearing to be out of the menu list of McDonald’s, through the Drive-Through. She asked for a birthday cake, was laughed at a few times, but eventually got what she wanted. Applause for the attitude!!

About the fic (context, my bitches): ofc it’s the modern AU, non-magical world. Draco’s the worst boyfriend ever but always manages to turn things into their righteous place. 

Summary: The birthday is upcoming, and Draco is in a rush to think up an idea for a perfect gift. His ingenuity fails, however, and leaves Y/N very unsatisfied with a disaster that has been forged. 

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: my brain playing a total psycho, language, alcohol, sexual undertones/allusions to sex, Pansy being too much of her self... deal...

Tags: @drawlfoy @eltanin-malfoy

Such an unrestrained desire to strangle somebody you hadn't felt in a long time.

Really.

Today was your birthday, which you had been widely announcing for almost a whole month to people you might have accidentally forgotten about it. Having your boyfriend, Draco, on your mind in particular.

You doubted he would have the guts to omit your big day, though as repeatedly as he had done for a few years back. But something between foresight and the second sense of prevention told you to keep reminding him every day of the upcoming event, with a heap of birthday-themed emojis and uppercases in the messages.

Everything was planned out in your head: him picking you up from your house with the sharp-red cabriolet that he used only for special occasions; him driving the two of you to the fanciest restaurant he could find in town; him bestowing you with a nice-looking, golden necklace or a different piece of jewelry you had been suggestively pointing out in the store's exhibition; him booking up a hotel room for you two to celebrate.

Either way, that was much beyond your expectations, as it turned out. And now you were sitting in the front yard of your house, waiting for him to show up.

'If he was going to at all.' This thought invaded your mind for the last hour, try as might to subdue it. An hour you had been sitting tight, hoping it was only a delay caused by a traffic jam or other irrational explanation he could come up with. But you were deceiving yourself, you eventually presumed -- you had been checking up your phone every one minute, only to see if any message notification popped up on the screen, other than birthday wishes from friends who actually cared for you.

2.02pm: Nothing.

2.03pm: Susan 'Happy birthday bitch!'

2.04pm: Instagram notif. (Someone liked your photo, which you had posted before leaving your room, posing in front of the mirror in the best cocktail dress you could find in the wardrobe.)

2.05pm: Nothing yet again.

2.06pm: Still... Peace and quiet.

"Fuck it...Enough," you muttered under your breath, an annoying disillusionment falling like a heavy mile stone on your chest. Tears suddenly started sprinkling in your eyes at the regret, and you were very reluctant to admit that your friends were right -- Draco Malfoy was an egoistic, negligent, self-absorbed pri--

"Hi." You heard the raspy, panting voice says. "Sorry for the delay."

You blinked slowly, stupidly. You raised your head to assure yourself it was him. That his expression actually corresponded to his words and showed some kind of remorse for standing you up. But no... There he was: standing in front of you, plainly confident and unashamed, with his cocky smirk provoking you to slap him.

Oh, how much you craved to slap him right now. "Where to the fuck have you been?"

"I've tried to pick this up," he explained, simultaneously lifting up the paper bag he'd been carrying in his hand. The big, exclaiming letters 'McDonald's' with the brand's logo were printed on its exterior, and it was fully stuffed with something inside.

Not quite comprehending, you furrowed. You attempted to hide the venom in your voice, but somehow it found its way to leak out. "Couldn't you do that in advance?"

"Nope..." It was his turn to furrow, looking almost shocked with the question. And thanks to all those years of your relationship, you knew it was his piss-poor estimation of time taking over. "It was a last-minute surprise."

"Sounds like it," you commented irritably. "What's that?"

"Your birthday present, sunshine," he drawled happily, ignoring your remark. He sounded positively delighted and satisfied with himself at surprising you with that because he saw a slight crease of shock painting on your forehead. "Here you go."

You took his deposit out of his grasp, still quite unsure. What if his gift would only make a situation worse? Can it get any worse with Draco's total lack of tact? Yes. But it was only one way to find out.

Without even stealing a second glance at him, you ripped off all of the packaging that had been folded around, protecting the contents. You tried to do it carefully and without any impact of emotions revealing the way you felt inside, but your hands were shaking with rage, and you couldn't quite contain yourself. You had been highly aware you shouldn't have expected much from him, but still...

You wondered if the universe was playing against you.

There was a moment of tense silence as you struggled to deal with all the wrappings. Rather unfortunately, you wished you hadn't put so much effort in opening your so-called 'gift' because as you finally did, it only angered you more, seeing as the disappointment laughs at your face. And yes, as a matter of fact, the universe was against you today...

"Are you kidding me?" you asked in disbelief, fury reappearing in your eyes. "A birthday cake?! From McDonald's?" Ugly, little cake with the creepiest smiley face of a clown. It wasn't even fresh, you realized, when you smelled it and felt a musty reek of a freezer, it probably had been kept in. A confusing sense of sadness in your chest couldn't reach any higher at this point.

"Don't you like it?" he asked, detecting the wrath in your eyes. At that, you felt the dumbest urge to laugh and never stop. "I thought it'd be something original."

"Oh, I love it," you said sarcastically, a faint voice of hope telling you it was only a very bad joke was still lingering in your head. But it wasn't a joke.

"It's not just--" He struggled to form a coherent sentence. "I've been asking Blaise and Theo about any ideas. I told them, what you had said to me -- 'you didn't want anything fancy.' So we decided it's... something."

"Of course I didn't tell you I want anything, you dolt!" Your voice raised up almost two octaves, and the pulse sped up so fast it entailed a headache along. A neighbor from the opposite garden who was watering the flowers looked at you, startled, and eyes widened your exasperated tone. You didn’t care. "It's how it works: you don't tell other people you expect them to buy something!"

"But I'm your boyfriend. You shouldn't -- er-- feel uncomfortable to tell..."

"Exactly! As my boyfriend, you should have known!"

"Well... I didn't. If that's what's bothering you, we can...we can..."

"Stop." Listening to him and his pathetic excuses was the last thing you were going to do now. "What – why would you even – " You sputtered out, unable to process or express exactly what you were feeling. There was definitely anger and indignation. Curiosity, for another, as to why Draco would even fall for such foolish and ill-considered idea, and -- to the top of it -- hope it would make a good fit. And possibly, the last and most satisfying part, was the wicked impulse to throw the cake directly into his arrogant face, letting him taste his own medicine he had been serving you for years on each failed birthday.

"You know, for once, you could pay more effort and try doing something nice for me," you told him firmly, deflating to calm down your buzzing nerves.

"I've been tr--"

"Do you realize how much it costs me to pretend to be happy when you forget about me? Last year, I organized a big-ass party for your birthday, inviting over all of your friends and buying the best booze I could find to celebrate it properly," you said harshly and pretentiously, as you intended. "The best part is, you didn't even thank me." You stared at him, wringing your hands and expecting to perceive any trope of shame in his eyes. For the first time, you actually did.  

"Listen, about that--" he calmly attempted to cut off your monologue.

"No, you listen..." Did you really want what was upcoming next? Maybe it was about time. "Today, I decided I'm standing up for myself. So, for the last time, get out from my porch."

He bristled, the thunderstruck air hanging around him. "Because of the stupid cake?"

"What?! No! It's just... I feel like you don't give a damn about me anymore." Gulp formed in your throat, and the tears finally left your eyes at the consciousness of what was happening. "I think we both deserve some time."

Your eyes moved to his, and you almost wished you hadn't looked. He was watching you, with pursed lips and a pure mixture of every emotion: anger, sadness, resentment, pretension, dejection. The faintest of his flustered blushes appeared on his cheeks, and you suddenly wished you could hug him. "So you are putting us..." His finger pointed at him and you as if expecting clarification. "...on a break? Is that what it is?"

You were truly torn, to be honest. Becoming single on your birthday was the last wish you had for this day, but you felt a strong sense of adequacy and pride for building up the boundaries of tolerance. Besides, seeing as it was heading nowhere, it was only a matter of time that your relationship came to an end.  

Although, it hurt. A lot. "Yes."

You darted your eyes from him, not wanting to study his reaction in case it caused you to meltdown and jump to his embrace, apologizing endlessly for your words. You loved him. But you didn't regret what you had just said.

Something like a dry chuckle of disbelief escaped out of his mouth. "Is that what you really want?"

'No,' your thoughts prompted you instantly before you could even contemplate. 'I want you to say so many things you're never willing to say. But you don't know.'

So instead, you lied: "Yes."

All expressed, you spun around without peeking back and rushed into your room, already knowing there was no more sense in strives to make this day any better; all of it would bring only bad associations. It would be depressing, even more than it already was.

God, was it how the break-up pained? Because if so, you wanted to be deceased. The world spun suddenly, and you sank to your knees, shaking madly and doing your best to find your way back to your bed, located a few mere meters from you. Part of you felt numb, but your head was wide awake and alarming you that something in terms of a disaster had just happened. Because it did. The clutching in your chest was unbearable, and tears were dashing out of your eyes like a living waterfall, which made you bury your face in your hands. Never have you ever wanted to be so drunk before.

And so many questions rung up in your head at once.

Did you make a good decision? What if you are going to miss him, yet knowing you could never call? What about college -- are things about to get awkward?

No answers.

But you knew someone who would be able to reply to them.

With the blurred by tears vision, you struggled but managed to find your phone in the purse, and then clumsily scrolled through and tapped in your list of contacts before holding the phone to your ear.

Please answer, you begged. Please, please…

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Pansy's voice roared from the other side of a line, as always, enthusiastic.

"Pansy." You tried to sound less brokenly than you were, feeling marginally worse at the reminder of your birthday. "Is Daphne around?"

"Ouch, you're a really nasty bitch sometimes, you know. I'm not goin' to point out today, but since you didn't let me end my wishes, I'll note that for the future reference." You were sure she was grinning at the teasing, seeing as much as she liked that. Normally, you wouldn't mind, but... "How--"

"Pansy, please..." you sobbed out, almost desperate to have someone to consult and share emotions with. Daphne -- contrary to Pansy, who could be very judgy sometimes -- was someone you had especially on mind now. "I need to talk to her."

You heard her sigh; the kind of sigh she used to either prove her resignation or concern. But, as much as it surprised you, she suppressed her curiosity and, without a second word, obediently handed the phone over to Daphne. At least, that's what you assumed because you heard a pause and subdued mutters in the background.

"Y/N?" the milder tone spoke up, and you felt suddenly very strange as if submerged in water of relief; relief to hear the familiar voice. That released you from keeping a distant attitude, and yet again, a sadness washed over you, triggering a loud wail to come out of your mouth. "Y/N, is everything alright?"

"No..." you sniveled, unable to collect yourself together. "I-I... We br-brok-e up."

"You and Draco?" Daphne asked, astonishment evident.

You nodded but then remembered she couldn't see you nor read your expression. So instead, you forced your vocal cords to work again. "Mhm..."

"What happened?"

Restoring the story in your brain again, you told her everything, still tearfully but much more coherently this time. You avoided the details, briefly skipping from one utterance to another, as your conversations had gone, and you were very much thankful she didn't press for more information about the prospect of the situation. If it hadn't been her sporadic gasps or loud inhales of breath, you would have almost presumed she wasn't listening. However, she was, and as soon turned out, Pansy was as well.

"That's bananas!" Pansy shouted somewhere from the back as you had ended, and despite your gloom, you giggled quietly at her comment.

"Shush," Daphne tried to silence her, covering up the fact she had put you on the speaker. You didn't mind because you knew Pansy, who would definitely expect Daphne to cite the whole conversation if needed. But knowing Daphne as well, you could bet she flushed more than she would want to at that point. "So it all started because of the cake?"

"And the delay," you added. "But it's not just about that, obviously. It feels like... he completely stopped caring. And I don't want to be stuck in a relationship where everything is about sex and having fun only. Draco wasn't looking for a commitment, which..."

"Sucks,"ended this time Pansy unhesitatingly, who wasn't now screaming from the other part of a room but openly participating in the discussion.

"Yeah," you agreed.

"As for me, I think he might love you more than you know, Y/N." It was Daphne talking again, and she sounded positively convinced about her view as for someone who had hardly exchanged any word with Draco for the past few years. As if reading your thoughts, she continued. "I've observed you a lot. I know he might seem unemotional, but it's you who discovered him. That must require a lot of trust, you know."

You contemplated, and some of the memories and images from your first encounter run across your brain, try as might to suppress it: spotting each other at the party; binging some whisky shots together; flirty teasing; the very masculine scent of cologne; and then... more spicy recollections -- eager lips pressing against each other; against each others' necks; against other parts of the body; stripping off the clothes in the passionate haste...

Receiving a long moment of silence, Daphne took a second chance and asked. "And what's with you? Do you want to end it?"

It felt like standing before the oracle of truth. Therefore, you couldn't deny it in front of yourself. "No."

"So what're you still doing there?" commented Pansy impatiently, and you could imagine her rolling the eyes. "Get out and find him!"

She was right. You will.

XOXOXOXO

"I thought I'd find you here..."

No. Actually, you didn't. 

You had tracked Draco's phone with your own one with some help of an app that, as the two of you had established still in the relationship, would be a good idea in case of an emergency. That in itself proved to be more than helpful, believing that your argument may be pinned as something in terms of an emergency, right?

So having access to his location, you had found out he was in the park where he had taken you on the first date, shortly after dinner, to watch the sunset that, as he had described, 'was a typical cliche from every romantic movie.'

But you had fallen for that. So much.

You hadn't been aware the place had actually some meaning for him until now, and that... God, that he had even remembered it. Time showed, however, that it indeed did, to which your heart reacted with a happy jolting. But also with a nasty sting of nostalgia following shortly after.

Yet, that only had encouraged you to make up your mind and go looking for him, which hadn't been such a difficult task per se. He was sitting on the bench, in the shade of a tree, and hiding his a little too delicate skin from the sun rays. As soon as he had heard your voice, his gray eyes flew up to see you standing a few meters away.

"What are you doing here?" was the immediate question that tumbled out of his mouth. He arched his eyebrow, and to your surprise, he didn't even look angry or sad with you. Nothing near the edge; actually, almost something like the amusement was painting on his face.

"Aren't you mad with me?" you asked intrigued, completely forgetting about his question.

He frowned. "Why would I be?" His tone was so mild that you weren't sure if he was referring to the double meaning; but then he smirked playfully and said, "Besides, I knew you were coming."

"Wha-- How?" you asked, eyes dilating a fraction, in shock.

He smirked, pointing at his phone in an explanatory manner. After a moment, you finally figured out what he meant: the app must have registered he had been tracked and that your phone was trying to find his. At this notice, you reacted with a wave of flush, suddenly regretting your previous lie. His smile only widened at your expression. "Wanna sit? It's plenty of room here."

"Mhm..." You nodded, pleased to accept his offer, and walked over to the bench, doing your best to hide the evident embarrassment on your face. You felt strange he had taken you with such ease, seeing as merely two or three hours ago, you had burst at him like a cram-full volcano of unspoken emotions.

Draco shifted a package from his side, making more space for you to sit, and it took you a moment to realize it was a McDonald's cake from earlier. Everything started from that -- a stupid, little piece of cake which stood up between...

You shook the thought away, taking a seat next to him, close enough to smell his sandalwood cologne. "You didn't answer my question," Draco reminded you. "What's so important to make you track my phone?"

"I'm sorry, okay?" You rounded your face to him, flustrated, leaning at the backrest of a bench. "That's why I came. I wanted to apologize."

"Oh... Couldn't you call?"

You sighed. "I figured you wouldn't want to talk to me after...you know... our quarrel," you said half-despondent, half-desperate, watching your feet as if it were the most interesting thing to peer at now. "I didn't mean what I said earlier."

"I know," he said. Out of nowhere, he was gently grasping your palms which forced you to look up directly into his intense gaze. His eyes were swirling like molten silver at you. "But I should be apologizing, love. I made a mistake, okay?" His hands traveled all across to your tense shoulders, squeezing them lightly. "I know I should be more... affectionate with you. And this was...dumb. A dumb mistake. With that cake. But I'll try to be better if you give it another shot."

He looked so serious that you instantly believed him. You wanted to actually, with all force of longing, which grew up too rapidly in you when he wasn't around. Draco was a fool, you could easily say. But he was your fool, which was a thing you couldn't be more proud of.

Peeking slowly in the other direction, you asked, out of the topic, "You remembered the place?"

"Of course," he puffed jokingly, smiling. "Our first date. Officially our place from then on."

"Right..." You smiled back.

Honestly, the mere fact that he had called this spot 'yours' warmed up your heart, and you felt yourself grinning at his never-before-discovered emotionality. To assure yourself you weren't the only one caring, it was all you needed to hear.

The whole moment was intense, and now, you realized, is when you should have hugged him. Kissed him. Said something back at his sincere endearment.

But instead, spotting plastic cutlery next to your 'gift', you asked, "So what's the taste of the birthday cake?"  

And you knew he had caught the subtext of your playful inquiry. And you knew that soon you would work things out again. But, as for now...

"I thought you would never ask."

XOXOXOXO

A/N: Looooooool. Such a drama-comedy, right? And I could easily say It feels like 50% Draco-x-Reader / 50% Draco-x-BirthdayCake... But whatever (2am is working like a drunken bud, folks). Happy beginning of August :)

[robininthelabyrinth]

Spilled Pearls

- Chapter 18 - ao3 -

“I thought he liked you,” Cangse Sanren said, her hands warm on Lan Qiren’s back as he buried his face into his hands. He didn’t even scold her for it, ignoring all the strictures against too-close interactions between men and women in his misery. “I really did, or else I wouldn’t have encouraged him. I’m sorry.”

Words of apology like that came easily to her lips, unbound as she was by the usual complicated human emotions behind them. It was one of the many traits of hers that Lan Qiren envied.

Having finished her tenure at the Cloud Recesses, Cangse Sanren had been living at the Lotus Pier as a guest of the Jiang sect the past few months, and seemed to be quite happy there. Rumors had already gone around about how she’d been night-hunting with Jiang Fengmian and his retinue, much to the frustration of the third daughter of Meishan Yu, who’d had her heart set on him for ages.

Despite this, Cangse Sanren had still written cheerful letters to Lan Qiren, and he’d written back faithfully, although he’d tried not to bother her too much. He hadn’t actually asked her to return to the Cloud Recesses for his sake – after what had happened in the Nightless City, he’d written up some letters trying to explain that he would be very happy to have her company should it not be an imposition, his hand shaky and his calligraphy ugly in a way it hadn’t been since he was a small child, but he’d thrown them all away. He suspected someone had recovered a discarded draft and sent the message for him, probably Lan Yueheng or something like that, but he wasn’t sure; he hadn’t accepted any visitors since his frenzied flight from the Nightless City, locking himself away in his rooms and refusing to see anyone, even his brother.

Especially his brother.

“He does,” Lan Qiren said, his voice hoarse even though he hadn’t really been using it for much in the past few weeks, brooding over what had happened. “I think – he does.”

That was the worst of it, too. Lan Qiren could no longer deceive himself into thinking that Wen Ruohan saw him as a pawn to manipulate, a piece to play as part of a larger game. Their brotherhood might have started out that way, but at some point Wen Ruohan had actually taken an interest in him – a half-immortal like him, powerful beyond reckoning, thinking that Lan Qiren of all people was as precious as the pearls he’d draped him in.

He’d probably had those supposedly spare Wen sect robes made especially for him, too, just as an excuse to see him wearing them; Lan Qiren hadn’t put it together at the time, blinded as he was by the new and exciting feeling of closeness and affection, but in retrospect it had been obvious. Wen Ruohan himself admitted that he longed to possess things that he liked, that his instincts tended towards domination, and even based on their limited acquaintance, Lan Qiren knew that it would be just like Wen Ruohan to manufacture a situation just to see what Lan Qiren looked like wearing his colors.

No: Wen Ruohan sincerely liked Lan Qiren. He liked him a lot.

And he was, without a doubt, a terrible person.

Lan Qiren lived his life by the Lan sect rules. He might only be nineteen years old, two generations junior to Wen Ruohan, but he had at his disposal the wisdom of generations.

There were dozens of rules about what you were supposed to do, how you were supposed to conduct yourself – you were supposed to love the world and strive to fill it with good deeds, to uphold justice and shoulder morality, to be chivalrous and filial and virtuous, to live a life with integrity.

Do not associate with evil.

Wen Ruohan had told him, all that time ago, hadn’t he? It had been one of the first things he’d said to Lan Qiren, stay away from bad men. He’d meant himself then, and he’d been right, too.

It had been Lan Qiren who hadn’t listened.

“I liked him, too,” he said nonsensically, and put his head back down.

“I know,” she said. Cangse Sanren’s voice was not given to gentleness – he’d once scathingly compared it to a horn’s blast, loud and blaring, and she had laughed in delight – but for all her loudness she was also capable of great kindness. “I know, Qiren-gege, I know. You wouldn’t care so much if you didn’t.”

“…I don’t have many friends.”

“I know.”

“I don’t – I don’t need– he’s supposed to be my brother –”

“You have bad luck with brothers, I think,” she said, trying to be a little tactful and largely failing, and Lan Qiren felt himself awash with misery once more. She wasn’t wrong. Lan Qiren clearly had the ability to make friends – Cangse Sanren, for one, or Lan Yueheng and some others like him, even Lao Nie – but clearly he’d no luck when it came to anything more than that.

His blood brother despised him, and his sworn brother, who cared for him, was an evil man who by all rights he ought to avoid. What else could that be but the worst of luck?

“At least you found out early on,” Cangse Sanren said, moving straight back into the practical. She’d long ago admitted that she wasn’t very good with feelings of sadness, preferring to spend her life in joy no matter how difficult. “It would have been worse if it was later.”

“Would it?” Lan Qiren asked. He wasn’t so sure. “I’d have had more grounds to argue with him if I’d known him better.”

“Of course you’d think first of reforming him,” she sighed.

Lan Qiren shrugged. “Liberate, then suppress, and only as a last resort eliminate.”

“That’s for ghosts, Qiren-gege.”

“Most types of resentful energy, actually.” He tried to scrub at his eyes, which were tearing up again. “Most types of evil. And he – he is, isn’t he?”

“I mean, I’d have to do some digging before reaching a firm conclusion, I try not to judge these things second-hand, but based on what you described as seeing in the Fire Palace…probably.” She shook her head. “Even if they were wrongdoers, they ought to be punished according to their crime, or even executed. There’s no call for something on the order of what you described.”

“Maybe it’s different in the Wen sect,” Lan Qiren said, not really meaning it. “They might have different standards – there are punishments we enact that other sects might consider torturous, I suppose. The Jiang sect, for instance, punishes minor offenses only with kneeling, and disapproves of using the discipline rod… Anyway, it’s not - it’s not like it was hidden or anything, like it would be if they thought it shameful. The rumors all said that he was bloodthirsty and fond of torture; everyone knows, and for some reason I’m the only one who seems to mind.”

“Most people didn’t have to see Sect Leader Wen watching it like a particularly good dance routine at a brothel,” Cangse Sanren retorted, and Lan Qiren gagged at the thought. “Anyway, I still think it’s good that you figured out that he was trash before you got in too deep.”

“He’s not trash,” Lan Qiren objected, and she gave him an incredulous look. “He’s not! He’s not – he doesn’t have to stop. He’s a sect leader; he has complete dominion within his territory. His territory is the most expansive of all the Great Sects, he’s the most personally powerful of all the sect leaders…he can do as he likes, and I can’t do anything about it. If anything, I was in the wrong for profaning his hospitality by – by –”

“By putting those people out of their misery?”

“…that,” Lan Qiren said, and felt sick again.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You were entirely in the right! You should always stand up for morality, no matter the circumstance…” Cangse Sanren scowled. “Hold up, are you saying you’d considering making up with him?”

Lan Qiren sighed and scrubbed at his face.

“Qiren-gege!”

“He’s my sworn brother,” Lan Qiren said. “I swore an oath.”

Loyalty and fidelity - all those clauses about not being betrayed. He’d promised.

“That’s ridiculous,” Cangse Sanren argued. “So what if you swore an oath? So did he!”

“He swore to guide me, I swore to follow; it’s not the same.”

“He still has to be a good role model –”

“Maybe in his view he is.”

“Absurd. What utter trash!”

“It’s still an oath, Cangse Sanren!”

“Marriage is an oath, too, and they still invented divorce,” she said, scowling. Cangse Sanren had never met the word ‘no’ and liked it; it wasn’t in her character. “You can’t just let him go on like that, breaking your heart!”

“I wouldn’t call it –”

Cangse Sanren gave him a look, and Lan Qiren closed his mouth.

He supposed it was a bit like that.

“I thought it would work out, that’s all,” he said finally, somehow managing to talk around the lump of misery in his chest. “As something more than – what I have already.”

He’d spent years in denial and privately blaming himself, his awkwardness and his failures and his poor potential, for the poor state of his relationship with his brother, but then it turned out that who he was was enough to make someone like Sect Leader Wen, who had no pity and no sympathy and no natural fondness of other people, like him, so maybe in the end it wasn’t him.

Maybe it was only as Cangse Sanren had said: that he had poor luck in brothers.

“Just that?” she asked, and sounded curious. He looked at her in question, not understanding what she meant. “I mean, I don’t know. You were in the Nightless City for a whole week, unsupervised and clearly getting your feet swept out from under you by the charming and dashing Sect Leader Wen – did he really not try anything?”

“Try anything – Cangse Sanren! I already told you, it’s Lao Nie he likes like that.” He frowned. “At least, I think he does? No, I’m sure of it. Lao Nie calls him Hanhan, and Sect Leader Wen lets him; they must be – close. And Lao Nie’s proud of how undiscriminating he is.”

“Yes, I’m pretty sure Lao Nie lost half his interest in me when he realized I didn’t have a spare set of teeth somewhere awkward,” Cangse Sanren agreed, rolling her eyes. She’d spent a short time at the Unclean Realm, too. “Are you sure? I would’ve sworn…well, anyway, who cares about him? What about you? Did youlike Wen Ruohan like that?”

Lan Qiren grimaced. “I’ve never been good at that,” he demurred, and it was true.

At nineteen, by the standards of the Great Sects, he was generally considered a little too young to marry, and wouldn’t have been expected to – but plenty of young men his age and much younger were mooning over women left and right, and he’d never done that. He wanted a wife, of course, the way that he wanted to be an adult and to go traveling and to be a teacher, a sort of distant far-off future plan; he’d always been attracted by the idea of having a companion to share joys and sorrows with, but he’d never seen the appeal of soft curves or a pretty face the way all his peers seemed to instinctively understand. He hadn’t worried, thinking that desire was something that would come with time, although as he got older he started to worry that he’d perhaps missed the optimal period for it to happen. Even Cangse Sanren, who he liked a great deal – he didn’t think of her that way, not even when she’d admitted that she liked him.

“I know that,” she said, nudging him playfully. “I just thought you might be a cutsleeve, that’s all.”

“I don’t think so? I mean, I don’t know,” he said, and sighed. “I thought about it for a while, you know, after our last discussion on the subject. It’s not that it’s not accepted – I mean, it’s not popular, but it’s not forbidden, either, and there’s plenty of precedent for people in the Lan sect with those sorts of interests. But when I went to look at the spring books in the library –”

“You snuck a peek? Qiren-gege! How daring!”

“Be quiet. It’s a time-honored Lan sect tradition; if peeking weren’t encouraged, the books would be locked away in the forbidden section rather than just placed on an awkwardly high shelf.”

She giggled, and her endless good humor cheered him up a little.

“Anyway,” he said. “I looked it over, but it still just seemed like – I don’t know. Too much trouble.”

Cangse Sanren found that hilarious for some reason.

“Maybe it’s just the bedding you think is stupid?” she finally asked after getting the laughter out of her system and making a completely unnecessary hand gesture in case he didn’t understand that she meant sex instead of actual bedding. “It’s pretty stupid, I’m not going to lie.”

Lan Qiren gave her a sharp look. “You’re not married.”

“Don’t change the subject! Would you like a wife – or a husband, I suppose – if you didn’t have to sleep with them?”

“I wouldn’t ask that of someone,” Lan Qiren objected. “It’s a fundamental aspect of it, isn’t it? Anyway, I don’t – it’s not that – there’s nothing wrong with it in principle, I don’t mean to judge others – only – listen, it’s just troublesome, that’s all, and I don’t especially want to – Why are we even talking about this, anyway?”

Cangse Sanren laughed at him again.

“Regarding Sect Leader Wen, I have no grounds to object to his actions, so I won’t,” Lan Qiren decided, returning to their original subject, which although miserable was far less humiliating. “But I don’t have to pretend like I like it, either. Don’t associate with evil.”

“He’s your sworn brother,” Cangse Sanren reminded him, as if he’d somehow managed to forget. “If you’re not willing to be forsworn, how can you avoid him?”

“I’ll figure it out,” he said with a sigh. “It’s just a disappointment, that’s all. I’ll accept it, the way I’ve accepted all the others.”

She pressed her lips together, clearly unhappy. “One day that’s not going to be enough,” she finally said. “One day, you’ll run into a disappointment that’s so great that it’ll swallow you up.”

Lan Qiren opened his mouth to argue, then closed it. It was said that those who left Baoshan Sanren’s mountain were doomed, their longing to join humanity bringing down a sad fate onto their heads, though it was unclear if they would all go mad and evil the way her first disciple had all those years ago or if they would just die unhappily. What could he say against that?

“I’ll deal with that when it comes, I suppose,” he said, and felt uncomfortably like he had seen some trace of the heavens’ design that he shouldn’t have. “I don’t want to think about it anymore. Tell me about you.”

“About me?”

“How are you enjoying the Lotus Pier? And how do you – uh – that is –”

“Know enough to have an opinion about what people do in bed?” she said, her eyes curving into crescents as she grinned. “Well. Let me tell you all about that, since the two answers are the same. There’s this absolutely darling man in the Lotus Pier, very funny, by the name of Wei Changze –”

“Wei Changze? Not Jiang Fengmian?”

Cangse Sanren winked at him. “Rules against gossip, Qiren-gege!”

“It’s not gossip if it’s news!” he defended himself, though in all honesty it was probably mostly just gossip. “I wanted to know how you were doing!”

“And I’m glad of it! Let me tell you all about the ridiculous love triangle I’ve found myself in –”

It’s not gossip if it’s news, Lan Qiren reminded himself even as he settled in to listen. He put away all thoughts of Wen Ruohan for the moment, and thought that it was all for the best. There was nothing he could do about it, after all.

The facts were what they were: Wen Ruohan was his sworn brother; Wen Ruohan liked Lan Qiren, and Lan Qiren liked him in return; Wen Ruohan was an evil man who enjoyed causing pain.

Lan Qiren would just have to find a way to live with that.

[beccascribbles]

hello can i request where suna, akaashi and osamu have a short gf and she just wants a kiss but he teases her and doesnt bend down to kiss her so she gets pouty and kind of ignores him all day even when he tries to talk to her

a/n - this one was so fun to write! i've never written for suna before so i hope you liked the way i portrayed his character. hope you enjoy!

call him sadistic but he loves the sight of you pouting up at him, straining to reach him

hands rest on his shoulders to help push you up further on your tiptoes

even with this, you are not close enough to place a kiss on his lips... and he knows this, smirks down at you lazily

"kiss me," you whine, much to his amusement

while an arm wraps around your waist, his head tilts up, leaving you with the perfect view of the bottom of his chin

you let out a frustrated sigh, hand coming down to smack at his chest as you lower back down

chuckling, he just holds you closer, ignoring the way you push against him to get free. suna knows you're pissed off but that just makes it more fun

finally, you wiggle free, shooting him a glare before stalking off towards the twins

he makes his way over, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, leaning slightly on you as he joins the conversation

stubbornly, you ignore him, acting oblivious to his presence, acting as if your s/o isn't currently leant against you

each comment he makes is passed over by you, a look of confusion flashing across your face if one of the twins reply to suna

"what are you talking about?" you question, feigning confusion as osamu replies to suna. mischief flashes in both of their eyes and they join you in ignoring suna

he is quickly becoming more irritable, finally stalking away from you. if he isn't going to be included in a conversation, why waste his energy?

this goes on for the rest of the day, you stubbornly refusing to speak to him

he finally snaps when you are walking home in silence, you acting as if he isn't currently holding your hand. all of his statements go unanswered, even ones which would normally elicit a laugh. he changes tact

"how was your day?"

it is met with silence, deafening silence. with a sigh, patience finally breaking, he tugs you around to face him. "if i kiss you, will you stop being such a brat?"

your gaze isn't focused on him, instead looking at something in the distance, just past his chest

this is the last straw. his hand comes down to grip your neck and he tilts your head up, finally connecting your lips in a kiss

you let out a satisified hum, sinking into the kiss as your hands go up to grip at his shoulders

he pulls away, eyes assessing as he takes in your grin of satisfaction

"i hate you," he states, watching the way your smile just grows wider

"don't lie to yourself," you tease, taking his hand and beginning to walk home again

he's not really the type to tease you. honestly, he finds it bothersome and pointless most of the time. however, there are times when the desire to deny you just takes over him

today is one of those days

you were feeling particularly needy that day and were currently curled up next to him on the sofa, head resting against his shoulder as you watched the tv. his arm was wrapped around you securely, hand resting on your hip bone

when he got up to go get a drink, you pulled at his arm, leaning up with the intention of getting a peck on the lips

instead, he ruffled your hair affectionately before heading to the kitchen, leaving you with a small pout he secretly found adorable

this circumstance wasn't what tipped you over the edge and made you ignore him

it was later, when you came up to him and wrapped your arms around his waist, chin resting on his chest as you peered up at him

"keiji," you said softly, causing him to look down at you with an soft grin. "can you give me a kiss?"

his hand brushed lightly against your cheek. it almost looked as if he were about to kiss you

then he turned away

frustrated, you tugged at his top, vausing him to look down at you curiously again

"kiss me," you begged. he seemed to consider it for a moment

"no"

that simple response with no elaboration infuriates you so much that you push away from him and storm into the other room. if he didn't want to kiss you, he could at least explain why

"stupid prick," you mumble as you sit on the sofa with a huff. "i'll show him"

for the rest of the day, you refuse to acknowledge him, fiddling on your phone, pretending you don't hear him. at one point, you turned the tv up to block him out, commenting on some annoying buzz in the background

by this point, he's had enough. this is why he rarely does it. it's because you get in a huff and act like a baby

"you're being immature, y/n," he states, watching you from the other end of the sofa. you simply huff. "is this really because i wouldn't kiss you? if you're that desperate, you would have found a way"

that statement irks you and you finally look at him, mouth opening to fire back a response. "if you weren't so fricking tall, i wouldn't have to beg you"

he simply sighs. he could comment on the fact that you are just exceptionally short, but you are talking to him again and he doesn't want to set you off. he's been punished enough

"come here," he says, opening up his arms for you. you happily crawl into his lap, curling up against his chest

"can i get a kiss now?"

he hums in response, gripping your chin with his finger and thumb, tilting your head up. lightly, he brushes his lips against yours

"aww, does someone want a kiss?" he teases, easily resisting your attempts to lower him

you flick him in the shoulder, probably a bit harder than necessary

"come on, samu," you moan, head tilted upwards as you look at him, balanced rather precariously on your tiptoes. "stop being stupid and kiss me already"

if you hadn't called him stupid, he probably would have kissed you right then. but, hearing the insult makes him want to tease you for a bit longer

"it's such a shame you can't reach," he goades, noting the way your eyes narrowed as you glared at him

"maybe atsumu will kiss me then," you spat, walking off with a slight stomp to your step (it's not to find atsumu, though that is what he is thinking, but to piss off osamu. you also acknowledge that hanging around in the corridor for much longer would make you late for class so pissing osamu off is just an added bonus)

the thought of you running to atsumu gives him pause, almost makes him reach out for you. then he realises the time and knows that you, being the studious person you are, would be heading to class

he assumes the space will give you time to cool your head before you come back to his after school

this assumption is proved incorrect when you fall into step beside atsumu, blanking your boyfriend and instead striking up a conversation with his twin

atsumu shoots osamu a wide, teasing grin, smug at the thought of being the one your attention is focused on. osamu's fists clench. this is low, even for you

when you arrive at his house, you follow atsumu to the living room and collapse onto the sofa beside him, asking him what he wants to watch

osamu watches from the doorway, his jaw clenching. he needs to do something, anything, to make you look at him

of course, his mind goes to food. he knows how much you love his cooking and is fully going to take advantage of that

he disappears into the kitchen and, after about ten minutes, you look around in search of him

"samu's in the kitchen," explains atsumu, gesturing in that direction. "probably making you something so that you talk to him again"

after a little while longer, which you pass chatting with atsumu about the programme on tv (it's a reality tv show, a guilty pleasure both of the twins enjoy indulging in), osamu appears from the kitchen holding a plate of onigiri

he puts it on the table in front of you, smacking atsumu's hand away when he reaches for the food

"will you talk to me now?" he asks as you stuff the food in your mouth

your lips pull up into a grin and you wrap a hand around his wrist, pulling him down beside you. you really don't have the heart to torture him anymore

you place a kiss to his cheek as he wraps an arm around you to hold you close. "this is really good. new recipe?"

"i've been working out the kinks for a while," he says, perking up as he launches into an explanation about what he changed and more

you make eye contact with atsumu, rolling your eyes slightly at the sudden animated energy taking over your boyfriend

and to think, he still hasn't bothered to give you a kiss yet

[thr-333]

I got this request story idea where quirkless deku doesn't want to be a hero anymore because of bullying that he got from bakugou and wrong saying that he got from all might. So deku decides is a backpacker, travelling around the world experiencing cultures, food, quirks!!! He has even a YouTube account where talk about his travels, meet new people and talk about their quirks.

Here you go @sweetizukufan its set in nz like  you wanted :D

Ochako flopped onto her bed and groaned into a pillow. She didn’t have the right to complain, she knew that. She had been one of thousands of applicants to pass the entrance exam and for the past three years her classmates had been training just as hard as she had. And truthfully she didn’t want to complain. It was her final year at UA. It was only a matter of months until she was officially a hero her dream since a child and she was excited for it!

That didn't change the fact Aizawa had upped their training the last few months. The days got longer the work harder and quite frankly it left her with virtually zero free time. Whenever she tried voicing her thoughts she’d be met by her well meaning, but overly enthusiastic classmates encouraging her to keep her head up. 

She was! That didn’t mean she had to go through hellish training with a wide smile on her face.

“Ugh,” Ochako rolled over as it got hard to breath with the pillow smothering her. She really did need to get some sleep before waking up at five in the bloody morning tomorrow when she hit the gym. But honestly at this point if she didn’t do something to break up the monotony of training, eating and sleeping she was going to lose it.

She blindly grabbed for her phone. The school had funded getting her a newer model than her old flip phone since that had been a hindrance when she started internships. She was provided with the industry standard which her friends had tested by throwing it out a window, where it hit Bakugou’s head, and was promptly exploded then stomped on. The thing came out of it without a scratch.

She brought up youtube, it’s not like she had any games, let alone time to play them. It was probably a bad sign she had forgotten what channels she liked. With little other option she started scrolling trending with only a small amount of hesitance. She flicked past everything that was clearly clickbait, too childish or both. 

Something caught her eye and Ochako back-pedalled to take a look. It looked like some sort of vlogging channel ‘ARRIVING IN NEW ZEALAND! Auckland sky tower!!!’ was written across the screen. Even with all the caps she didn’t really see how that could be clickbait. Maybe the guy was just excited, she would like to get a holiday like that after all. The image had him smiling at the camera sitting down and below him was nothing, nothing but a street far below. Ochako was embarrassed to say her first thought was that he had some sort of floating quirk before realising he was literally sitting on a window. In her defence she had a float quirk.

Partly embarrassed she clicked on the video why not live her traveling dreams vicariously through a stranger? She used to watch her fair share of travel videos, although those were mostly in tropical places so she could research where to take her parents.

The video started with a shot looking over the wing of a plane, a montage of it starting to land. Ochako was vaguely concerned when all she could see was water out the window but just before touch down the tarmac came into view so it wasn't a surprise crash landing. The camera cut off after a few more seconds panning across the airport as the plane pulled in. The music started to fade out as the shot cut to the same guy as before.

“Hey guys Midoriya here again, just got off an eleven hour flight,” He had no right to look so cheerful at that Ochako had never been on a plane but it didn’t look particularly fun, “And let me tell you I was not prepared for the ordeal that is security here,”

Midoriya’s smile faltered a bit, looking sheepish. He was walking with the camera just outside the airport, people milling around in the background paying him no mind.

“I had no idea it would be that tough, I had an apple I got on the plane in my bag and I thought that would be alright, I got it on the plane after all!” Midoriya didn’t look upset or angry but  he was blushing madly. Ochako cracked a smile at that now that she looked closer he was probably about her age, “But no, I swear I thought they were going to arrest me! They started interrogating me, I had to stutter out that I got it on the plane, but that didn’t stop them they gave me a lecture about protecting the environment and declaring food, luckily I got off without a fine, I think it’s because I looked terrified, because I was,”

Midoriya chuckled rubbing his neck, there was a bang and he looked wideyed to the side the camera shook slightly then cut to another shot the setting slightly off from where it was showing a bit of greenery growing at the air port.

“Sorry dropped my bag,” Ochako giggled at that a bit, more that he had decided to keep that in the video than anything else, “So I thought that was the end of it, but apparently not, they started asking questions about my shoes, ‘have you visited any farms?’ ‘have you worn them hiking at any point?’ stuff like that, so that was a bit of a problem because these are my only pair of shoes in this country and I’m pretty sure they’re gonna incinerate that apple,”

A little graphic of a cartoon apple on fire popped up along with a pair of shoes. A speech bubble followed saying ‘save yourself!’ as the apple’s little chibi face screwed up.

“I promised them that no, I haven’t by the way I wouldn’t lie about this stuff the environment here is super cool and unique I couldn’t live with myself if my dirty shoes killed a forest,” The graphic was gone by now and Midoriya was walking through the airport, “But I handed over all the snacks I had in my bag, even if they were ok to bring in the country I was too anxious to risk it, that seemed to appease the border security and I got away with my shoes in tact, my snacks sacrifice will not be in vain,”

Ochako was tempted to laugh but if someone set fire to her snacks or sweets there would be hell to pay.

“Anyway now I’m hungry and have some time before my hotels check in,” Midoriya beamed at the camera, “So I’m gonna do something I’ve wanted to since planning this trip,”

On that mysterious note the video cut to another montage as Midoriya got into a taxi. Ochako let herself enjoy the sights that rolled out the window. She wished she had a computer to watch this on instead of squinting for details on her phone's screen. The montage went onto show the outside of a store then going inside to pan over all the baked goods inside. It was a smorgasbord that stoked Ochako’s envy.

“Here we are,” Midoriya sat at a table just outside the store a few bags laid out in front of him, “These sorts of bakeries are everywhere in New Zealand, I didn’t look for anywhere specific just one walking distance to my hotel room, and here we are!”

Midoriya took something from a bag showing it to the camera to make out the golden crust of a pie. Going torturously in detail as he ripped it open for the audience's benefit. Steam rose and mince flowed out, surprising Ochako as she thought it would be sweet. Breaking it open made a mess as Midoriya was forced to drop the piping hot pastry. The filling pooled across the bag it had come in making the whole thing look sloppy.

“I think my friend would kill me if she saw me do that, Gemma don’t watch this video,” Midoriya warned to late, “She’s the one who told me I had to try a pie, I have a few flavours here but lets start with the basic one, mince!”

Midoriya had some difficulty eating it now that it had fallen apart but managed and his eyes lit up.

“It’s really good, the pastry is flaky and buttery it works really well with the savoury mince the two together make a really satisfying bite, but I guess it would be better if I didn’t destroy it first,” Midoriya said sheepishly, “I won’t do that for the rest of them, promise,”

Midroiya took another bite from the pie before showing off the next one.

“This is Gemma’s favourite Butter Chicken, and trust me it smells so good!” Midoriya, the tease took a bite. Ochako had to wonder what she did to deserve this, “Wow I like this one way better, not that the other one was bad!” Midoriya hurriedly said.

He showed the inside to the camera, a rich looking butter chicken inside.

“It’s really flavourful so you don’t need any sauce that and the texture of the chicken and curry are really complimented by the pie crust,” Izuku took another bite as he talked, “I guess it’s kinda like if Butter Chicken was wrapped up in Nan so there's no way it wouldn’t be good,”

Midoriya talked more as he ate that pie and a steak and cheese one he had brought talking about both until Ochako’s mouth was salivating.

“That’s not nearly all the pie options, but I’ll be touring across New Zealand so this can be an ongoing adventure, now desert!” Midoriya brought out a long bun full of cream, it had a dollop of jam on the top and so much icing sugar Ochako feared for his health. Midoriya however ignored those fears and took a bite anyway, “The buns really soft and the area that the cream’s touched it is just the best texture ever,”

He smiled and there was cream and powder on his cheeks Ochako just knew was going to haunt her until he wiped it off.

“This entire thing is just, ‘ok how can we make this as soft as possible,” Midoriya commented getting closer to the middle of the bun where the bit of jam was, “The raspberry, I think? Jam is really good at breaking up the flavour half way through, now I can eat the rest of it,” Midoriya grinned as he finished it off. He started walking around again waiting for his check in to arrive. That didn't seem to bother him as he pointed out things on the street as he walked.

As he did, Ochako saw someone blatantly jump over the street instead of waiting for the lights. There was another person in the background who casually strolled across the side of a building, feet sticking to it somehow. While people would use their quirks on the street all the time they were usually less obvious about it as police would sometimes call them out and it did depend quirk to quirk. Midoriya zoomed in on a few of these people before it focused on him smiling as he walked.

“New Zealands got pretty cool laws around quirk usage,” He explained, clearly having done his research, enthusiastically by the looks of it, “You have to go through some basic training to prove you can control your quirk, at least so you wont hurt anyone after that you get a license and your free to use your quirk, like I island,” That Ochako thought was cool part of her training had pointed out that some situations heroes were called in for weren't always villain attacks but some public quirk usage gone south, “It’s pretty easy to get by the sounds of it but that does all depend on what your quirk may be,”

The shot cut a bit, Ochako assumed he had rambled on about that for a bit and decided to cut that part.

“In terms of heroes from what I’ve researched the police handle most of that, they’re trained in their quirks kinda like hero schools back in Japan but starting at university not highschool,” That made sense Ochako supposed, and they’d probably have more time to master their quirks too, “There’s a few heroes sure, they’re like a branch of the police department and I think there's a departmental separation between rescue and combat heroes,”

Was she privately pleased he had listed rescue heroes first? Yes, yes she was.

“But honestly there aren’t many, they seem more like the people you call in for really big stuff going on, or international relations, it makes sense the population of New Zealand isn’t all that big,” Midoriya rounded the corner someone made a peace sign at the camera before moving on, “Almost half the population is here in Auckland and the whole country hasn’t reached the five million mark yet, thats crazy to me considering Japan’s population is in the hundred million range and it’s only slightly bigger than New Zealand,”

That did seem insane to Ochako, not sure to be smug about that fact or not.

“So that's probably why heroes are less of a thing here but that doesn't mean it’s all not still really cool,” Midoriya was beaming at the camera, his positivity and enthusiasm practically punching her through the screen, “I’ve rambled enough, it’s about check in time I’ll show you guys where I’ll be staying,”

Midoriya gave a quick tour of his hotel room. It wasn't much, more of a backpackers than anything.

“It’s not big I know but I’ll only be staying here for a few days to explore Auckland then I’m off traveling so a large place wasn't really a worry,” Midoriya flopped down on the bed, bouncing slightly as he hit the mattress, “I’m gonna take a nap because I am exhausted,” His tone betrayed nothing, “But stick around because I’ve got a surprise this afternoon- well I probably put it in the title anyway so it’s not a surprise but it’s still going to be cool, See ya,” Midoriya saluted the camera and it faded to black for a few seconds.

When it came back to light it was an image looking up at a tall tower circling around it and entering the building next to it. There was a continuous shot that was sped up as he walked through the line entering an elevator which literally had a glass floor.

“Wo-” The camera was pointed down at Midoriya's shoes as he hesitated to stand on the glass patch. His foot made contact before he quickly stepped back, “Nope, no, nope,”

Ochako laughed and sank back into her bed. The elevators opened and there was a shot of large windows showing the expanse of the city. The footage sped up as Midoriya did a clean circle around the tower showing it was a loop to give a 360 degree view of Auckland. It was pretty with rolling hills and she could see forests at the edge of it. Honestly it was small compared to the cities she was used to but that made sense given what Midoriya had said earlier.

“Look at this,” The footage went back to normal speed as Midoriya focused on a chart comparing the heights of different towers, “It’s half as tall as the sky tree,”

And that was given the giant antenna on the top.

“Come check this out it’s pretty cool,” Midoriya walked down the steps until he was right next to the window, a few steps more and he came to a patch in the floor that was just glass like the elevator. Midoriya noticeably stood back from it, “It says here that the glass is just as thick and strong on the floor, so reasonably logically,” Ochako snorted, “It should be just the same as walking on the floor… they say that but…”

Midoriya switched the camera around to focus on him, looking a bit pale.

“This might shock you but I’m not really a fan of heights,” He shuddered and shook himself out, “Alright I can do this,”

What followed was a frankly painful process that Ochako couldn't help but laugh at. Midoriya would approach the glass before backing off. He set the camera up on the railing so it looked down enough that she could see the glass and street below. Midoriya tried a bunch of stuff like walking up without looking down. That didn't work and he backed out several meters before he had even reached the glass thinking he was standing on it. He tried to sit down and scoot onto it but couldn't manage more than sitting far from the edge and putting his feet on it. Ochako started howling with laughter when a kid came by running up and jumping on the glass while Midoriya looked on with fear like they were mad.

Midoriya at least had a humor about it. 2D sketches drawn over the video to help exaggerate his struggle and the entire thing filmed rather comically.

Ochako was beginning to believe he had photoshopped the image earlier before he grabbed the camera taking a deep shuddering breath.

“I can do this, I promise I can do this,” He sat down and shuffled back cringing all the way. Ochako found herself strangely proud as Midoriya actually made it onto the glass. He was white knuckled reaching up to hold the railing. He smiled shakily at the camera before turning into a more genuine look of triumph. That was until he quickly rolled off it jumping to his feet and scurrying away, “There! Done! I did it!”

He was smiling brightly now and Ochako couldn't deny she was proud of him. She had struggled herself with heights something she was forced to get over to use her quirk so she knew just how hard that can be.

“Gosh I hope that's easier than what I’m about to do,” Midoriya spun around to show a different window wires running outside and inside a countdown that was about to hit one. It did and there was a blur outside Ochako belatedly realised it was a person. Oh no.

“Now I’m not going to do that but I am going to do something pretty cool,” Ochako blew a sigh of relief but also wanted to hit him for scaring her like that. Under no circumstances should he be jumping off buildings.

They lapsed into another montage Midoriya going back downstairs. This time he had the courage to put a foot on the window in the elevator. Downstairs he went into another area donning a coat and sort of jumpsuit before layering harnesses over the top. He went up an elevator with a few other people this time. They stepped out into another room Midoriya carefully keeping the window out of frame to keep the grand reveal. Their harnesses got latched on and secured to a railing. Once everything was safe the doors pushed open revealing Auckland city, this time not hidden behind glass. 

Midoriya skipped over the likely long process of gaining the courage to go outside cutting instead to him smiling with the city at his back and wind whipping through his hair.

“Welcome to the top!” Midoriya yelled over the wind, the audio quality was bad but that was understandable. She felt worse for Midoriya who was smiling through the fear, “It’s really cold and windy up here and I’m scared!”

“Just go back down you idiot,” Ochako huffed fondly as he kept shouting to be heard over the wind.

“I’m kinda afraid of dropping my camera honestly,” Midoriya laughed but she couldn't hear it, instead he pointed in to a few specific spots across the city, “See those hills? Most of those are actually remnants of volcanoes, you see Aucklands kinda built on top of a giant pit of Magma,”

Midoriya quickly grabbed back onto the railing, slowly shuffling along the sky walk, higher than he had been inside.

“Luckily the volcanoes in this area are dormant, cause if one in this area erupts there's a pretty good chance like 50 more are gonna follow,”

Midoriya stayed up there for a little longer pointing out interesting things in the distance. Ochako could safely say she was glad when he cut back to the bottom of the sky tower. His hair was windswept and cheeks red from windchill. Ochako didn't even need to check the comments to know most of them were gushing about how cute he was.

“That was… terrifying, but I’m glad I did it, who thinks I should try skydiving next?” Midoriya grinned, before his face dropped and paled again, “God please no that was a joke,”

Ochako giggled relaxing back in bed again after the tension of the skywalk Midoriya had been leaking through the screen dissipated.

“Anyway  I’m just gonna go lie down for a while until some friends of mine get here, then we’ve got one more surprise,” Ochako hoped he hadn’t changed his mind and was going to jump off the building after all, she didn’t want to see him have a literal heart attack.

The video cut to Midoriya smiling at the camera again. He had a lot more color to him now and his hair was somewhat tamed. In his defence he had apparently got off and 11 hour flight then walked around 300 meters in the air it was allowed to be messy.

“So the person meeting me is Gemma, I mentioned her earlier, and a few other friends but their camera shy so you probably wont see them,” Midoriya was bouncing in place gaze constantly drifting away from the camera, “This is our first time meeting in person so I’m kinda excited kinda dreading if this has all just been some elaborate joke and I’m about to get stood up or worse,”

“Who hurt you and who do I need to kill?” Uraraka whispered, fully prepared to throw down the gauntlet for a youtuber she had only just discovered.

Luckily for them Gemma and his other not seen friends were spared her wrath. The camera shot was from far away so she couldn't hear or see anything in detail but it clearly showed the two running up to hug each other Midoriya pulling back to excitedly chat. Gemma matched his enthusiasm, sparkles trailing her arms as she made wide sweeping gestures.

“Here everyone say hi to Gemma,” The shot changed to frame the two of them, Gemma waving the motion sending more glittering sparkles falling from her hand and landing on Midoriya’s shoulder.

“Oh no-” Gemma stepped back to look at Midoriya the front of his shirt was covered in lingering sparkles along with his face and hair. Midoriya looked down at himself a little shocked as Gemma covered her face groaning into her hands, “I’m so sorry, I swear they fade out,”

She scrubbed her hands down her face, unaffected as her whole body shone lightly with subtle sparkles.

“I love it,” Midoriya grinned, twirling a bit to show there was a band of sparkles across his back from where her arms must have come around him. He was quite a bit shorter than her so his face also looked like someone had blown glitter in it, it just made his smile all the more dazzling.

“So you know where we’re going for dinner?” Gemma was looking at the camera but clearly asking Izuku.

“Up the tower again!” Midoriya beamed and really him plus sparkles was too unfair a combination.

This time in the elevator Gemma stood proudly on the window as Midoriya yelled at her.

“Are you crazy?!”

“Crazy you say?” At that Gemma jumped up and Midoriya let out an unholy screech as the elevator shuddered, she laughed but it was teasing not cruel. Ochako could make out the vague reflection of someone patting Midoriya on the shoulder and another person's arm came into frame to swat at Gemma.

When they reached the top Midoriya did not focus too much on the view, already having shown it. They stepped into a nicely decorated restaurant, but what was interesting was when Midoriya demonstrated that it was slowly spinning so the patrons could enjoy the view without leaving their table.

“Do you think they could speed it up?” Gemma asked, she was sitting next to Midoriya, both had their backs to the window so Ochako had a clear shot of it.

“Like a dangerous merry go round?” Midoriya questioned, the sparkles still clung to his cheeks and eyelashes.

“Exactly!” Gemma gave him finger guns, that matched her real guns. She may be sparkly but without the coat Ochako could now see she was ripped, “Also the dangerous is redundant,”

“What kind of merry go rounds-” Midoriya cut himself off as a waiter walked by, “... anyway I don’t think thats a good idea, given that the points to you know, eat,”

“Thats just what makes it more fun,” Gemma waved off.

“Uh-huh,” Midoriya raised an eyebrow skeptically before turning to the camera, “Hope you guys don’t mind but I wont be doing much food reviewing this dinner, I’ll show it off but-”

“This is a night for us to celebrate, later losers,” Gemma saluted, Midoriya squeaked telling her off before cutting the video off. Ochako laughed glad for Midoriya that his nerves had been wrong.

As promised he showed a few shots of some fancy looking food. Ochako wondered how much she would have to save up for her and her parents to eat there, not as much as the flights of course… hopefully. 

The camera placed on the table showed the scenery slowly revolving outside, getting darker and lights turning on as the sun set. By the time they were getting up to leave it was fully dark outside and Midoriya spared a moment to linger on a shot of Auckland at night.

“Izuku don’t forget your bag,” Gemma called as she shrugged on her jacket, also glittery.

“Thank-” The camera whirled around to where the bag should be. There was a slight ridge dividing the circle of the restaurant that spun and a ledges lining the outside where all the supporting beams were, “Oh sh-”

The camera started shaking as Midoriya ran through the restaurant. The shot switching to another camera that caught Midoriya as he ran the other way almost bowling over a waiter and profusely apologising. All the while you could hear Gemma and several others laughing off screen.

“Oh? Look what we have here,” Gemma moved the camera to focus on a spot as the restaurant turned around, a bag coming into view that Gemma scooped up. It was probably Midoriya's seeing as it had a couple of All Might pins and Ochako wasn’t sure how popular he was internationally.

Gemma set up the camera to focus on the opposite direction Midoriya ran. It caught the moment he came around the other side, still staring worriedly at the window. Gemma whistled sharply gaining a few glares but a relieved look from Midoriya as she held up his bag.

They left the restaurant with a few apologies at the other patrons for being loud. When the camera switched it was back on Midoriya but Ochako caught a glimpse of Gemma shimmering in the background waiting around.

“Alright that's all for today,” Midoriya smiled, Ochako stomped down the slight disappointment resolving check out his other videos from his easiness and confidence on screen Midoriya must have been at this awhile, “I’m going to be touring all over the country so stay tuned for the series, I haven't showed you nearly how beautiful New Zealand is, I hope I can make it down to the south island too cause they have some really pretty scenery, for now I’m going back to the hotel and crashing hard, see ya!”

The video signed off to the end cards a recommended video and link to Gemma’s apparent channel that looked like some sort of fitness channel with how she was lifting weights in it. Ochako promised herself to check it out.

For now she subscribed to Midoriya’s channel checking the time to see if she could squeeze in another before going to bed. She was feeling like she could get away with it. The change in pace revitalising in a way. But really she attributed that to Midoriya’s natural cheer and charisma. Somewhere in there she had allowed herself to relax and get swept up in this dorky kids mundane adventure. It was exactly the kind of thing she wanted her parents to experience one day. 

This was exactly what she had become a hero for, and now graduation was within her grasp. She just had to push a little more and then she would be out in the world able to do some good for her family and everyone else. 

Ochako smiled at the screen, resolving to get some sleep and maybe she could squeeze in another video tomorrow morning. Before she turned off her phone Ochako glanced at the channel's name, snorting to herself. It was perfect.

Green Bean and Bags

[ffangirlingsince2001]

The Great Upheaval of Percy Weasley: Black Lingerie

Percy Weasley x OC

Summary: Accidental insults lead to study sessions and answered questions

Warnings: angst, some public making out (still a bit tame, but don’t you worry ;) )

MASTERLIST

black lingerie -n- you said you matched it to the color of your heart but as I undressed your soul I knew you had lied

***

“We’re going to get right into it,” Lupin announced as he passed back the pop quizzes from his first class. Percy glanced down at the paper, almost perfect marks. More surprising, was at the top of his paper, beside his name was Wilton. He looked around in panic.

Had he written that?

Was he already blowing their cover?

“Some of you may have already noticed, but there is a name beside your own. That individual scored the closest to you on the pop quiz, and consequently will be your dueling partner for the rest of the year. Now there will be no need to change seats,” he added as students began groaning about their partners. He wanted to look back and see Elle’s reaction, but he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know.

He had always been a little hesitant of the girl. She had ‘bad news’ written across her forehead in the same thick liner he had never seen her without. And there were of course the rumors he tried not to put much stock in. Somehow, now that he knew her, she was more intimidating than before, and smarter, and more of an enigma.

Funny how that works out, isn’t it? He knew that while she looked like Halloween, she tasted like May Day. He knew what her skirt felt like in his hands, and he knew that the space between her thighs were warmer than any sweater. He knew how she kissed, and yet he didn’t really know anything about her.

“Hey, head boy,” she said, startling him out of his thoughts. He turned to find her standing behind him, arms crossed with an amused expression, “Are we going to practice or are you going to keep staring at your test.”

“Practice?”

“Nonverbal spells. Weren’t you paying attention?”

“I guess not,” he muttered, and she rolled her eyes before beckoning him to their corner. “I didn’t know you were second in the class, congratulations,” he offered as he followed her. He didn’t know why he had said anything about the grade, it was without tact, but he certainly hadn’t expected her to laugh coldly. A shiver ran down his spine while he placed himself the correct number of paces away, pulling himself together as he tried to shake out the distraction. By the time he was ready, she was already pointing her white, slender wand in his direction. She looked nonchalant and unprepared, but he could tell from the tightness in her wrist she would begin as soon as he did.

He flicked his wand, aiming to disarm her, but she blocked it with ease. He went again, determined to keep her on the defense. They were entirely silent as she gracefully defended every attack he had to offer.

Then he switched from simple disarming to jinxes.

She didn’t miss a beat. Her defensive charms grew stronger until not only were they protecting her but pushing him backwards. They stepped into another group’s area, but it didn’t really matter, their silent lightshow had already captured the rest of the class’s attention. Percy even caught sight of Lupin watching them from where he had been helping another group. His back hit a desk as she advanced, something dangerous in her eyes. Using his wand, he whisked it towards her in a desperate attempt to slow her, but she hopped onto the desks surface. She stared down at him, looking like pure power. She threw her first jinx, and then another, and another, almost quicker than he was able to throw up shield charms.

Sweat dripped down his forehead, stinging his eyes, but she didn’t look like she was tired at all. She looked like she had just entered the ring and was prepared to destroy whoever tried to face her.

That just so happened to be Percy.

He could feel the spells getting more dangerous, pushing against every counter curse and defense with no remorse. He stumbled over a chair and hit the ground. Quiet, cool, calculation turned to a smile as she hopped down from the desk, wand still raised. His wand had fallen out of his hand and whatever spell she decided to cast was going to be the end of the duel. She raised it and he scrambled for his wand in a last-ditch effort to keep it going, but a shield formed between them before either could make a move.

“That class, was an excellent demonstration of dueling,” Lupin said, clapping as he stepped forward. He spoke quietly to Elle, but from where Percy lay, he couldn’t hear, he could only see the angry look Elle’s face soften before seizing up again. She opened her mouth the argue, but Lupin must have said something to keep her quiet, because she instantly shoved past him and around the shield charm.

Lupin was chuckling as he helped Percy from the ground, offering him a ‘good job’ before dismissing the class. Percy turned to look for Elle, but she was already there, shoving a piece of parchment into his chest.

“I’m number fucking one,” she snapped before marching away, Dinah doing her best to keep her stride. Percy pulled the parchment from his chest and glanced at her test, a perfect score. His stomach dropped at the sudden explanation. He had become the pompous ass she knew him for by simply assuming she was beneath him. She had certainly proven him wrong, and now he was going to be lucky if she bothered to ever look at him again. As he packed away the books that had been strewn across the floor during their duel, promising himself he would apologize the moment he got a chance.

Which he hoped would be Transfigurations.

He slid into his seat at the front of the classroom and watched as Elle and Dinah whispered in the back of the classroom, the poor lad who had taken Elle’s seat dripping with boredom.

“Ms. Wilton, take your seat,” Professor McGonagall called as she entered the classroom. The girls laughed for a few moments, before Elle slid off the desk and practically swanned to her seat.

“Elle,” he whispered but she ignored him, not that he blamed her. She took her notes and ignored every possible thing he did to capture her attention. When class ended, she jumped up as quickly as she could manage. All he could do was run after her.

“Elle, Elle,” he called down the corridor after the pair. Suddenly, Dinah whirled around while Elle continued to look away.

“Are you looking to get your ass kicked again, because I promise I won’t be as nice as my friend,” Dinah snapped, drawing her wand. The hallway around them seemed to freeze, almost every pair of eyes seemed to stare at the badge shining brightly on his chest. Even Dinah seemed to flicker as she remembered who she was speaking to, but it only lasted a moment before she inched closer, sticking the tip of her wand against the gold.

“I’m sorry, Elle,” he announced, doing his best to ignore Dinah’s glare, “It was a stupid arrogant thing to say, and I’m sorry.” Much to his relief, she turned around, lowering Dinah’s arm as she did so.

“I’ll meet you in Herbology.”

“Elle-.”

“Do you not think I can handle a Weasley?” she snapped. Had it been any other time, Percy would have felt indignant, but he was going to take every sort of verbal abuse she had to offer if it meant she was going to forgive him. Dinah glared at him one more time before turning on her five-inch heels and marching away. “And the rest of you, get to class before the Head boy has to take house points.”

No one moved, points and orders meant almost nothing when a fight was about to break out.

“Go,” he yelled into the silent corridor. A few beats passed before begrudging feet shuffled away, leaving them alone in the corridor. “I’m sorry-.”

“I heard.” He shifted nervously, desperately thinking back to everything he knew about her. He had never groveled before, and before that moment he was sure he never would.

“I want you to study for our N.E.W.Ts with me. I only want to study with the best, and that’s clearly you.” He took a small step back as she narrowed her eyes, waiting for the jinx that was sitting on her tongue to lash out.

“Alright, library at six?” He blinked, and then again. He couldn’t believe it; he was still alive, and she had agreed. She waved her hand in front of his face, “Earth to Percy?”

“Yeah, six.”

“Don’t be late,” she ordered before offering him the smallest little grin. It disappeared as quickly as it came, and she whirled away, hurrying off to her next class. He watched the two braids down her back wave him goodbye. Frankly, they were the only thing that stopped him from watching her hips instead.

He shook the image of skirt swishing back and forth, coughing, and checking to make sure that no one had noticed his moment of weakness. When he was satisfied there was no one hiding behind corners, he briskly made his way to the common room. If he was going to keep up with her, he needed to be a little ahead.

The trip, that should have been quick and without interruption, was hijacked by none other than Fred and George. They were rushing around a corner excitedly, but when they saw him their excitement quickly dropped.

“We heard you were getting beat up,” George announced.

“But you seem free of bruises,” Fred finished, both approaching him skeptically, searching for the nonexistent contusions.

“I don’t know who told you that, but I am not getting beat up.”

“So, Dinah Baker didn’t pull her wand on you after Transfiguration?”

“And Elle Wilton didn’t send everyone away so she could absolutely pummel you into the ground?”

“She didn’t send everyone away to pummel me,” Percy snapped and both boys sagged in disappointment.

“That’s too bad. It probably would’ve been the most action you ever got.”

“Yeah, probably the first and last time a girl ever put her hands on you.”

“I’d let Wilton pummel me, she’s a right babe.”

“Very true, Fred, very true.”

“And that rack of hers.”

“I heard Davies ran into her during the rain once, claims he could see right through her shirt.”

“Black lingerie?”

“Black lingerie.”

Percy was fuming. He wanted to interrupt, to punch one of them, but he remained still, doing his best to keep his breathing even. Attacking his brother was not how a head boy should behave, and there was nothing more suspicious than defending a girl he barely talked to in public.

It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they had piqued his curiosity about the under-workings of Elle Wilton’s wardrobe.

“Last year she patched me up after Quidditch practice, and I swear she was all over me.”

“Are you sure that wasn’t all the painkillers?”

“Hey!”

“Are you two done?” Percy asked as casually as he could manage. They both turned to look at him. It seemed they had forgotten he was even there. “I have things to attend to, and if I catch either of you sneaking into the girl’s dormitory, I will not hesitate to take fifteen points from you both.” The twins rolled their eyes before pushing past him.

He took a deep breath and promised himself not to think about black lingerie.

And it worked too, until six when she arrived in the library, not wearing her uniform. It wasn’t ridiculous, but it certainly wasn’t what he was used to. He should have called her over, raised his hand, anything, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to control his motor skills.

The flared plaid had been traded for a solid black skirt that was much tighter… and much shorter. The combat boots and fishnets were still present, but they seemed more dangerous than before. The neckline of her top was high, and the sleeves were long, but the red fabric was so tight it didn’t really leave much to the imagination. He shifted beneath the desk as he rose a hand, hoping to catch her attention without drawing too much to himself. Her eyes landed on his and she grinned, pushing towards the table he had chosen.

She sat down, pulling out her books as she went. He tried not to stare, he really did, but could anyone really blame him, when she looked like that, and when he knew that if he asked she was going to let him touch… that.

“You changed,” he blurted, and then prepared himself a Draught of Living Death right there. His big mouth had already gotten him in trouble once today, and here he was blurting out whatever came to mind. She looked up from her bag and smirked.

“It is technically the weekend; you’re not going to take points from me, are you?”

“What? No, I just noticed.”

“Thank you for noticing then.” Somehow, he had survived. “Also, I want to apologize for what happened in Lupin’s class, my temper got ahead of me.”

“It was my fault, I shouldn’t have assumed, and trust me, I won’t underestimate you again. That was excellent magic, I wasn’t kidding when I said I want to learn from the best.”

“Oh,” was all she said, and for a moment he thought she might be blushing, “I hope I live up to your expectations.”

“I’m sure you will.” She was definitely blushing now. “Shall we get into it?” he asked, doing his best to save her and she quickly nodded, burying herself into her charms essay.

They both worked for hours, only speaking to ask questions about something that had been mentioned in class, or an odd concept discussed in the book; and it was enjoyable. Percy had never once considered that one day he would enjoy sitting across a table from Elle Wilton as they studied. He wasn’t even convinced she studied before today, but now she was sitting across from him, a stain on her lip from where she held her quill as she slunk deeper into thought.

Suddenly, she slammed her book shut and stood.

“Want to come to the restricted section?”

“You need a note?”

“I have a permanent note, plus we’re in advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts, that’s automatic admittance.” She slid past Madam Pince, offering her a smug smile to which she responded with a glare. It was clear they were not one another’s biggest fans. She pushed through the gate and began perusing the shelves, clearly looking for something.

“What are you looking for?”

“Unforgivable Curses.” That did not exactly answer his question.

“Any book in particular?”

“No, anything that focuses on their creation will be perfect.”

“What for?”

“Lupin’s essay.”

“What’s your topic?”

“Why Defense Charms are useless against Unforgivable Curses. It has something to do with how they were created, but our book isn’t specific in what manner, so I’m hoping that…” she explained, trailing off as something caught her eye. She took a step back and pressed up on her toes. “Yes, that’s got to be it.” The book she was pointing at was silver, the words “Unforgivable Curses” emblazoned into the side with dark black ink.

It was a few shelves higher than she could reach, but that didn’t stop her from trying, or her skirt from rising up her thighs as she stretched for the desired book. Percy reprimanded his wandering eyes and reached for it over her head. He barely brushed the bottom of the spine but managed to pull it down without too much effort. She turned around, taking the book from his hands, staring up at him as she leaned against the shelf, smirking all the while.

He wasn’t quite sure what she was smirking about until he realized what it would look like if someone turned the corner. His arm was stretched above her, gripping the shelf as he leaned over her, a leg situated between hers. He jumped back and she had the audacity to laugh.

“Don’t act as if we’ve never been in that position before,” she teased as he sputtered with indignation.

“We’re in the library.”

“Yeah, not a church.”

“Anyone could see.”

“It’s the Restricted Section, how many people come in here on a busy day, let alone a Friday?” She was smirking at him again, always smirking when she knew she was about to win. Though, in this case he wasn’t inclined to stop her. She crooked a finger forward and he obeyed, hovering over her once more, leaning down to capture her lips in his. She responded wholeheartedly, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hand slipped to her skirt and he might have let it wander beneath it if Fred and George’s voices didn’t fill his head with the conversation from earlier.

‘Black Lingerie,’ they seemed to repeat, until suddenly he was sure their voices weren’t just in his head. He pulled away, and sure enough just outside the Restricted Section were his two very loud brothers.

“Those idiots again. I already had to fight them off once today. They were convinced I beat you up earlier,” she groaned as she pushed Percy away, fixing her skirt as she marched towards the entrance. He followed her, but she pressed a hand to his chest, stopping him in his tracks. “Just wait here, they’ll be gone before you know it.” He hid in the shadows as she pushed her way back into the main portion of the library.

“Where’s Percy?” one of them, who he could only presume was Fred, yelled over Madam Pince’s insistent hushing. “You’ve killed him, haven’t you?”

“He’s looking for a book, which often happens in a library. Not that either of you would know anything about that.” A beat of silence passed before his brothers burst into laughter.

“And you do? C’mon Wilton we know you’re only here to beat him up in private.” Percy could practically hear Elle’s eyeroll.

“If I go get him, and prove that he’s not dead will you leave?”

“Only if you kiss me too.” Percy was ready to charge out after her now, but from the way the library grew decibels quieter, he had a good feeling that she was going to take care of it. Another beat of silence passed before her voice filled the air. It was low and dangerous, and even Percy was a little worried for his younger brother.

“If you ever insinuate anything like that ever again, I will make sure the next morning you wake up in Timbuktu thinking you’re a French salesman who recently donated his prick to a local charity, do you understand me?” A beat of silence passed. “I can’t hear you.”

“Yes,” his brother whispered and then the atmosphere returned to normal.

“Excellent, now do you still want to see Percy or are you feeling ready to retire for the night?” Scampering footsteps followed her question and before he knew it, she returned to where he had been listening. He blinked at her and she smiled, dragging him further into the dark aisles of the restricted section.

“Where have you been all my life?” he stuttered, and she laughed before pushing him against a shelf and pulling him down to meet her lips.

“Wait, wait,” he gasped pushing her away.

“If you’re really the uncomfortable about the library we can go.”

“No, no that’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” Percy swallowed nervously, but he was sure if he didn’t ask, he was going to keep hearing their voices.

“Do you wear black lingerie?” Thankfully, she didn’t seem at all put out by the question, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to end up as a French salesman.

“Not today, but sometimes, why do you ask?” she laughed.

“No reason,” he replied, swooping down, and kissing her before she had time to ask any more questions. She responded with zealous, and he smirked against her lips. He was sure he had just found another surprise about the enigma he was holding in his arms, a surprise he was excited to witness all on his own.

Taglist: @andromedasstarship​ @danadeacon​

[vegalocity]

Happier version of Tripsun, time travel nonsense where LMK Sun Wukong meets post-journey Sanzang with General 6?

Dialogue starters

6. “Have you been taking care of yourself?”

ah hell yeah

--

Every time he’d be allowed to share moments like this with his former Master, Sun Wukong would say to himself that he could never forget how at ease he could feel. How warm his chest was and the faint sweet shivers that would crawl up his spine and make his fur fluff out could never fade.

And yet every time it was allotted to him again it felt like new.

Perhaps because of how long it had been since their journey, but those random times his Monkeys would inform him someone was nearing the mountain, and when he’d poke his head out in bird form and see that golden light, made his gut jolt and heat to flood his face and neck as though he were some adolescent with a crush.

Of course he’d roll out the welcome wagon (just modest enough that Tang Sanzang wouldn’t chide him for being a showoff even after everything, but could easily be passed off as his Monkeys being as excited as he was to welcome the monk back to the island) and lay out as much food as he could get away with without again, his master scolding him for extravagance and sparing him only a few small knowing smiles over the feast of mountain fruits.

And they’d catch up of course, over food, over tea, and then just sitting somewhere pretty, His master would extoll him the stories of his new students, comparing and contrasting them to his first merry band of disciples (usually a coy smile hidden beneath a sleeve as he said someone or another was just as hard to handle at first as he had been) but a strikingly proud gleam in his smile as he praised students he wouldn’t dare speak aloud to their faces to avoid the building of ego) And Wukong would extoll the current drama of his monkeys and how this or that dispute was brought to him over plums or some other such simple yet silly thing. Truly the stories he had left to tell weren’t near as extravagant as the battles he once went on five hundred years ago, but his master always responded to the comings and goings of Flower Fruit Mountain with as much interest and immersion as he would the mightiest of battles.

And then came the moments when the stories finally ran dry and the two were allowed to simply be in eachothers presence, usually spent meditating on his master’s part while Wukong simply lounged about or read or just sat quietly with his master, enjoying the company in a way the outside world had grown far too bright and fast and loud for.

But this visit was different.

He’d woken up on the mountain, which was strange granted they were li upon li away (Kilometers, they use kilometers now) and his Monkeys were rushing up to him shrieking in fear and panic, hooting and hollering and demanding his attention to an assumed intruder.

He’d been suspicious of course, he’d anticipated anything, the calabash, an illusion, something that would REALLY need his truth seeing eyes (using them had started giving him wicked headaches; his power was so close to gone) but the golden light had already faded when he came outside, ready to fight-

And his eyes fell upon a familiar figure on the sandy shore.

And then he could only hope this was an illusion, as the idea of somehow being transported back home right in time for Master to put himself so close to the danger of the Lady Bone Demon again made his hackles rise. So despite the pounding headache that started the second he summoned the power he gazed around them with golden eyes, gliding over his master’s buzzing cicada wings, his monkeys peering at him curiously, and focusing his gaze to the city-

-where there was neither the silhouette of the skull nor the grid-like patterns of an illusion’s edge. Nor even the city itself.

There was a town, sure, but not a city. A town that had been in the… sixteen hundreds or so? About a century after he’d sealed the Demon Bull King away and dropped in on master to tell him he was considering retiring, that he’d be on his mountain if he needed him, and he was always welcome if he wanted to visit.

And about a century after that, Tang Sanzang had taken him up on the offer. And there he was.

This was the first visit. The throbbing pain in his head proclaimed this as not a dream, the golden vision proclaimed this not an illusion or a trick. This simply… had happened. He had replaced his (slightly) younger self for a time, and this was where he was. The first time.

Maybe this wasn’t for him so much as it was for the others, being given a past version of himself with his powers still in tact, Maybe his past self could protect them all in a way he no longer could.

His monkeys were giving the monk a wide berth and he watched him look around, normally serene expression slightly crumpled as he looked for a path up the mountain. At this point he could easily appear there with a flick of the wrist, but his master never believed in the easy way (except when it came to riding Longma for the entire journey, but he bullied him enough about that as is)

He called a couple of his monkey generals to him and gestured to the beach. “We’ve got a treasured guest here boys, bring out some of our best fruits! The monk drinks no wine so our most potent teas as well!” The two chittered between each other and saluted him. Ah… he missed when his monkeys could much easier take orders.

“Why if my eyes don’t deceive me! Is this the virtuous Tang Monk I spy? The carrier of the Tripitaka himself? Why if any demon consumed his flesh it is said they’d become immortal!” He crowed, and watched as his master quickly covered his mouth with a hand, suppressing a laugh before schooling his expression back into the unimpressed line.

“It seems as though I've wandered to another mountain full of dangerous demons.” he stated, monotone and dry, but playful grin quickly betraying the tone. “If only I had some gallant disciple to protect me from the oncoming dangers”

Sun Wukong tumbled from the trees and gave a mock bow. “Say no more virtuous monk! No demon worth their salt can stand a fight against I, the Great Sage Equal to Heaven!” there was a pause.

And then his master’s laugh was all he heard. It took him a second to join in, taking a hairdsbreath too long to enjoy the sound, but soon enough he was escorting the monk up to his home.

He had barely been able to wait to tell his Master about Xiaotian, and yet here he was having to avoid the boy’s name entirely while he searched to remember stories and drama from the monkeys four hundred years ago. He mentioned briefly that he was considering taking on a successor but hadn’t decided on it yet. His master told his own stories and He found himself possibly enjoying it a bit too much, Master had only recently passed by his thousand year mark of being immortal and he had still not quite gotten the hang of it yet. All the same he was doing his best and it was nostalgic to watch him try so hard to maintain what came easily to him in the future.

Then the stories ran dry and he gestured for his master to follow him, and reached his favorite spot on the mountainside, it overlooked the town that would soon become a city and they’d have the best fireworks. He didn’t share that information with master, but it didn’t matter, just his presence was enough.

But before he could vanish into the ‘somehow always like new’ feeling, Tang Sanzang turned to him with a worried eye.

“Have you been taking care of yourself?” It was a question he didn’t remember being asked on that first visit, one that took him aback.

“What do you mean, Master? I’m fine.”

“Bad Monkey, don’t bother lying to me, you keep wincing as though you’re in pain and you can take beatings that would make mountains crumble into ravines! You keep rubbing at your fur as though there are wounds that are still healing beneath when it takes so much just to pierce your flesh! Was your fight with the Bull King really so intense that your wounds act up even a century later or are you concealing other things from me?” damn those perceptive eyes. He didn’t USED to be perceptive, he used to fall for basically every demon trick!

Then again, he probably wasn’t doing too great at covering up the lingering wounds on his body either.

“I’m fine master, I’m sure everything will be back to normal when i’ve rested some.”

Well that was the exact wrong thing to say as he watched the Monk’s face pale. “Have I been keeping you from rest? Oh, you fool of an ape you should have told me!” Tang Sanzang turned to face him properly and for a moment Sun Wukong’s brain short circuited entirely as he placed soft hands on either of his cheeks to cup his face. “I can return at any time! If you’re injured you shouldn’t feel pressured to remain in my company!”

“I want to be in your company.” It came out in a way he wouldn’t have been able to mask the adoring warmth to, no matter how hard he tried. “Master, I enjoy nothing quite as much as I do our quiet moments together.” He had to go visit him himself upon returning to his time, he’d forgotten just how much he could miss the monk once again.

Tang Sanzang huffed and it seemed like that had at least turned his upset into more garden variety aggravation. “Bad monkey…” He shook his head, and in the dim light of sunset it almost seemed as though his master’s cheeks turned a pink shade of their own before he brought his hands down to take Sun Wukongs in his own, and stood. “Well if you feel so strongly about that then clearly I’m going to have to see to your recovery myself.” The monk looked off to the side and a small smile came with a featherlight chuckle. “How strange, a near reverse of how things once were between us.”

He chuckled as well at the irony and watched his master’s grin widen. “Indeed. Well, if you insist, I shall submit myself to your fucking fretting, baldy.”

Now THAT got a real laugh. and a soft 'Language!' between chuckles.

He’d get summoned back to his own time when Past Him was done doing whatever heavy lifting he’d gotten too weak to be able to handle no doubt. But for now he didn’t see the harm in enjoying the peacetime as it lasted.

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