#I’m trying very hard to learn but everyday I find a new why to embarrass myself

[birdiebortnik]

Wee update update! I’m working on acropolis chapter 4 (almost done). As I suspected I’m not strapped with much time to write these days and am hitting exhaustion induced writers block. But! I’m collecting music inspo for all other in progress fics and meditating on these stories.

I promise I’ll be back to updating and also answering dms soon!

Also! Thank you thank you thank for the folks commenting on said fics they’ve been making my day

Okaybye

[animeomegas]

Imagine that Sasuke is having problems with his 'future alpha', he doesn't understand some dating methods and ends up 'reluctantly' going to ask Itachi's alpha.He just blushed saying 'I can't believe I'm doing this but I need some advice'.Itachi's alpha comes home late looking happy and Itachi holding his dog asking where he's been.

Anon: I think Sasuke would only start liking Itachi's alpha after they help him stand up to a bigger, stronger, more trained betas and/or Alphas. Because I don't see him as someone who might ask for help from anyone, and his brother's alpha somehow saw them bully him and push him around, so they tell him how to one up those annoying people. (Maybe buy him ice cream or something after). This young Sasuke vs Itachi's alpha thing should be a show, because I'd sell everything I own to watch it.

(Anon 1: This is a big brain idea, anon, thank you for your service 🤭 I changed it a little, how that's okay!)

(Anon 2: I think you're absolutely right that Itachi's alpha does something big for Sasuke when he's at a low point, and it ends up changing their relationship for the better in a lot of ways. I decided not to go with bullying though, because Sasuke seemed to fit this scenario moreso. Also, ahhh, I'm so happy you're liking this mini series!!!!! I'm having so much fun writing it and it fills me with joy that other people are enjoying it just as much!!!)

...

Okay, so, Sasuke has never been the most intuitive when it comes to emotions. And he’s also never been great at acknowledging or learning about culture surround a/b/o dynamics because he’s always been adamant that he doesn’t care for it or need it.

But now Sasuke is starting to think that may have been a mistake. Because things are going wrong with this whole courting situation (that Sasuke still can’t believe is happening to him.)

Things were fine! But now the alpha courting him is getting colder and not wanting to train as much, and Sasuke doesn’t know what’s changed! He’s angry and upset about it.

He’s been brooding for about a week about the whole situation, but now he’s decided to ask someone for advice.

His friends are useless. His mother just laughed and told him it would work out if it was supposed to. Shisui is on a mission. He’d rather die than ask Kakashi sensei. So, unfortunately, he had to ask his brother, even though he was sure to get some embarrassing and invasive questioning from him. The sadist.

So, he goes to see his brother.

Who isn’t there.

His brother’s alpha tells him that Itachi is out with their pup all day running errands and taking him for his bi yearly check-ups. But Sasuke needs to know what’s going wrong and how to fix this now! He doesn't have time to wait for Itachi to be done with his stupid errands!

His brother’s alpha notices how tense he is and asks if he would like to stay for some tea, and Sasuke accepts before he thinks about what he's doing. Their relationship is much better nowadays but Sasuke can’t help but feel a little awkward around them still.

…

“Here,” they say, sliding two teacups onto the table. “You like green tea, right? It’s the only type we have in, you know what Itachi’s like with tea.”

“Green tea is fine,” Sasuke says politely if a little stiff.

His brother’s alpha sits down at the other side of the couch with their own tea, and the two sit in silence for a bit, each sipping their own tea

“Sasuke,” they say, shooting him a concerned look. “If you need me to go and get Itachi, I can. You don’t look well, he’ll come back in an instant if you ask him to.”

“No,” Sasuke answers quickly. “It’s fine… I…”

Here goes nothing.

“I’m just having a bit of trouble at the moments, is all, and…”

Itachi’s alpha nods, obviously listening intently with a look of concern on his face that is making this both harder and easier for Sasuke at the same time.

“Go on, Sasuke, I’m listening.”

“I’m sure Itachi told you about my… my er situation,” Sasuke starts, wishing he could punch himself in the face for phrasing it like that.

“That someone’s courting you?” they ask gently.

Sasuke only nods, face burning. He can’t count the number of times he’s told Itachi’s alpha to their face that he’d rather die than enter a courtship. This is so awkward, why is he doing this?

“Did they do something to make you uncomfortable, Sasuke?” they ask immediately after seeing his hesitance. “Because if they did, we can sort it out together okay? It’s not your fault.”

“No!” Sasuke immediately protests far louder than he intended too. “They didn’t… They didn’t do anything, I just… I think I did something wrong…”

Sasuke pretends to drink his tea to avoid having to elaborate any more, despite the fact that it’s still too hot.

“What did you do that was wrong?” they ask, voice still quiet and soothing and Sasuke hates how comforting he finds it. Like it or not, his instincts had branded Itachi’s alpha as ‘safe’ many years ago.

“I don’t know,” Sasuke admits, fiddling with the rim of his cup. “They seemed sad one day and I just thought they had a bad day or something, but now they’re… cold.”

“They aren’t behaving how they were behaving before?”

Sasuke shakes his head.

“Is it possible they have an issue at home or with some of their friends? It might be something in their personal life that's upsetting them.”

Sasuke shakes his head again.

“They seem fine when they’re with everyone else…” he admits. “It’s just me.”

Sasuke forces back the burn of tears he can feel behind his eyes. He will not cry. He won’t do it.

His brother’s alpha hums sadly.

“And you want to figure out what happened?” Sasuke nods. “Okay, why don’t you walk me through what happened on the days leading up to the mood change.”

And so Sasuke does.

He tells them all about how they would meet for training every day and Sasuke would bring two bento boxes for lunch, and then they would sometimes go shopping or go out to eat. Things he hasn’t told anyone about yet. And as he's talking, he really can't see what the problem is, everything seems fine! But maybe Itachi’s alpha might know some alpha thing that he doesn't. Sasuke can easily admit that it’s not his forte.

“I see,” Itachi’s alpha says after Sasuke had finished his story. Sasuke’s tea sits cold on the table next to his brother’s mate’s empty cup. “I think I know what happened.”

Sasuke looks up immediately. No way they’ve already figured it out that easily!

“They thought you were rejecting them,” Itachi’s alpha says simply.

“Wha- But…we spent everyday together! How could that be a rejection?!”

“When an alpha is courting an omega,” they start to explain. “They’re trying as hard as they can to prove to that omega that they can be a good mate.”

“I know that,” Sasuke snaps.

“Listen to me for a second, Sasuke," they softly reprimand. "So, when an alpha, particularly a younger one, is courting an omega, they are very sensitive to rejection, they look for it everywhere.”

“Why?” Sasuke asks, dumbfounded.

“Well, when I was courting your brother, we weren’t that much older than you are now, and I remember thinking that he was the most perfect person in the whole world,” their eyes take on a faraway look as they reminisce. “I was so sure that he must have had hundreds of alphas clawing for his attention every day, and so I was desperate to prove to him that I could be a good mate.

“With every gift, on every date, I would watch his reaction to everything, overanalysing every laugh and smile and frown. I loved him so much, but I couldn’t help but think that he would reject me at any moment. He was too good for me, and I knew that. It always felt like he was humouring me, especially at first.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Yeah,” they laugh, unoffended by Sasuke’s harsh tone. “Looking back, I guess it was, but what I’m trying to tell you, is that I can see how some of your actions could have been taken as rejection by a young alpha who was expecting to be rejected.”

“But…” Sasuke says, looking lost. “I didn’t want to reject them, I don’t understand.”

“Here,” they continue patiently. “Let me explain it to you like this. When you went out to eat, you paid for yourself even though they offered, right? Because you didn't want to burden them?"

“Yeah,” Sasuke trails off, unsure what that has to do with anything.

“But to a young, hormonal alpha, you’re basically telling them that you don’t trust them to provide for you, the one thing they are trying most to convince you."

“But I wasn’t-“ Sasuke protests.

“I know you weren’t,” they reassure him. “But that’s the sort of thing that will run through an alpha’s head at that age when courting. Also, you told them you wanted to train with them because you thought they were strong because you wanted to compliment them, right?”

Sasuke blushes but nods.

“And that’s great to start with, but eventually they would probably start to wonder why you wouldn��t want to train just to spend time with them. And you also told them that you had plenty of leftovers to make their lunch with so that they wouldn’t feel like they were burdening you, right? But that just made them feel like you weren’t going out of your way to do something special for them, even though you were. Do you see what I mean now?”

Sasuke blinks, rapidly trying to wrap his head around all this new information.

“And I also have a guess as to what pushed them over the edge into thinking you were rejecting them.”

“What is it?” Sasuke demands. “Tell me.”

“Did they make that scarf for you by hand, Sasuke?”

“Yes,” says Sasuke hesitantly.

“And they scented it?”

Sasuke nods affirmative.

“Did you give anything back?”

“I… Just said thank you… is that not right?”

Itachi’s alpha shakes their head with a patient smile.

“A handmade and scented gift is the most important and meaningful courting gift that there is, Sasuke,” they explain. “It’s what you give to someone to ask them if they want to move from courting to something more serious, to intended mates.”

Sasuke blushes and feels some panic rising in his chest.

“I didn’t know!” he blurts, feeling the need to explain himself.

“I know,” they rush to reassure him. “But the etiquette dictates that the omega, if they wish to move onto that stage, gives the alpha a handmade and scented gift in return, no later than a week after the original gift was given. They must have been very nervous waiting for you, and very upset when you didn’t even let them down softly.”

“It’s been two weeks,” Sasuke whispers, mortified that he had missed something he should have known. This makes so much sense. The sudden depression, the awkwardness at training, the nerves after they had given him the scarf. He’s such an idiot. Against his will, Sasuke starts to feel tears burning at his eyes again. He messed everything up!

“Oh, Sasuke,” they say, scooting closer to him. They hesitantly lay a hand on his leg, and Sasuke makes no move to push them off. “It’s alright, you can fix it.”

“How?” he sniffs, furiously wiping away any tears that manage to escape. “They probably hate me now.”

“Come here,” they say, pulling him into a hug. And for the first time ever, Sasuke accepts a hug from his brother’s alpha.

“It’s alright,” they soothe. “We can fix this, I’ll help you.”

“What can I do?” he questions, feeling miserable.

“You need to make them something and scent it. Then you can explain what happened afterwards, but the gift should go a long way in smoothing over any ruffled feathers. I can help you make something, what do you want to make?”

Sasuke shrugs, still resting his head on his brother’s alpha’s shoulder.

“How about some cupcakes? Itachi and I were planning on doing some baking with the pup tomorrow, so I have all the supplies. And I’m sure we have some ribbon lying around, you can scent the ribbon and use it to tie up the box, how does that sound?”

“But what will you use tomorrow?” Sasuke asks, feeling a little better, but still red in the face.

“I can buy more, Sasuke, don’t worry, but this is a courting emergency, so we have to do it now, okay?”

“Okay.”

…

Itachi comes back from his errands just in time to watch his mate helping his little brother tie a ribbon around a box of cupcakes. The kitchen is covered in baking supplies and empty bowls of batter.

Did they bake cupcakes together?

Itachi can’t believe it. He had been trying to get them to get along better for years.

When Sasuke sees him standing in the door, he blushes and, holding the box of cupcakes to his chest, pushes past him and out the door with a quick nothing more than a quick and murmured greeting.

His pup wiggles in his arms and demands to be put down. He obliges and they immediately run to his alpha for a hug.

“Hey there, buddy, have a good day?”

“It was boring,” they complain. “And the mednin had cold fingers.”

Itachi’s alpha laughs.

“Well, I know something that might make you feel better,” they tease.

“What?! What?!”

“Uncle Sasuke made you something very special,” they say, bringing down a spare cupcake from on top of the counter, iced in his pup's favourite colour. The way his pup’s eyes widen at the sight of it, makes Itachi smile. “You can have it after dinner, okay, and next time we see uncle Sasuke we have to remember to say thank you.”

Itachi watches in amusement as his pup nods furiously and immediately runs off to go wash up for dinner, despite the fact that Itachi hasn’t even started cooking it yet.

“Did you and Sasuke bake together?” Itachi asks, still unbelieving of what he had seen.

You smile, understanding how crazy that must have been for Itachi to walk in on.

“Yes, we… had a little bonding session,” they say. “I’ll tell you about it later, I promise.”

Itachi accepts the answer despite his curiosity and joins his alpha is cleaning the kitchen so that he can start cooking dinner.

And if both of them were smiling too much, well, neither of them brought it up.

[egcdeath]

ways to say i love you without saying “i love you”

pairing: steve rogers x reader

summary: you and steve explore love languages

word count: 5.1k

warnings: fluff, a little angst because of miscommunications, reader & steve being idiots, good intentions but terrible delivery, mentions of other characters

author’s note: this fic has been sitting unfinished in my drafts for so long. this fic is like, ancient. this fic was almost destroyed because it was briefly in the library of alexandria. when i reopened the document with this fic, there were mold spores growing on it. (p.s. steve’s love langauge is acts of service, and the reader’s is quality time)

you can find my masterlist and taglist here

Prologue

Steve was a multitasker. You knew this well. Perhaps too well.

That never seemed to bother you before, but if the man who was supposed to be taking a serene nature walk with you checked his goddamn flip phone one more time, you were completely sure that you’d lose it. 

You paused your story about your obnoxious coworkers for a moment, stopping in the middle of the gravelly trail you two were making your way down. 

“Steve, seriously, are you even listening?” you griped, ushering him towards the side of the pavement as a man on a bike flew by. 

He guffawed a bit at this, “of course I am. You just said something about…” he paused, and you gestured with your hands for him to continue. “Okay, sorry,” the blush on his face was becoming more and more apparent.

You involuntarily scoffed, rolling your eyes as you did so, “I’m glad to know that whatever you’re waiting for on there,” you gestured to his pocket, “is more important than spending quality time with your girlfriend, who, must I remind you, took time off to be here with you.”

“Nothing is more important to me than you, I’m just on call. I’m probably going to get called to go on a mission any moment now.”

“Steve!” you huffed, “you literally just got back, like, two hours ago. Can’t someone else go? Tony? Vision? Anyone?”

“I might’ve volunteered myself-“

“You’re unbelievable, Steve. Are you getting tired of me or something? You’ve been avoiding me like the plague ever since I moved in with you. If I upset you, or you’re gonna propose to me or something, can you just tell me?”

“I promise you it’s not personal at all,” he reached for your hand and gently held it. “Everything’s just been crazy. I mean, these Hydra bases have been popping up left and right. Just give me a little grace, okay? I don’t get upset with you when SHIELD starts making you work those ungodly hours.”

You opened your mouth to debate him, but surely enough, the canny and familiar ringtone of Steve’s work phone interrupted you before you could even begin. 

“Okay… Yeah. I’ll be there in thirty.”

You frowned at Steve as he spoke on the phone and shook your head disapprovingly, “unbelievable,” you muttered, storming in the direction of your home. 

——

Steve was no fool, he knew when he messed up, and he was more than willing to take responsibility for such. Now was one of those times. He knew that he should’ve been making more time for you. He was well aware that he shouldn’t have gotten defensive when you pointed this out. 

He just had no idea how to apologize.

You weren’t exactly making it easy for him either, taking much longer hours in an attempt to avoid him. While he could understand your frustrations, it became a little more difficult everyday for him to properly apologize to you in a way he felt was meaningful.

Eventually figuring to use your avoidance as a tool, Steve devised a plot to make an apology for you so considerate, so superb, that you could never be angry with him again. A plot that included a several course meal, all concocted by himself. 

He could imagine the look on your face as you came home from work, shocked, but the good kind of shock. Pleasantly surprised that your sweet boyfriend had put in such a huge amount of effort to say sorry. 

He couldn’t help but imagine the scenario: you would relax into your seat at the table after Steve pulled out the chair for you, hum in content as he poured your favorite wine. Moan happily at the taste of a homemade and rarely prepared salad dressing, before complimenting the melt-in-your-mouth entree he had spent an unknown amount of time laboring over. Finally, you’d gush over the dessert that Steve hadn’t had the chance to cook in years, tell him that he worked far too hard putting everything together, especially for a little argument. Steve would scoff, tell you you’re being too kind, and you would pull him in for a red wine and dark chocolate flavored kiss. 

The thought of you, your genuine and warm smile after a long day at work, and an even longer week worth of unspoken tension between you both, was enough to keep Steve motivated through the hours he spent preparing your meal.

He greeted you at the door like an excited puppy as soon as he heard your keys jingle. Sure, work had kept you a bit longer than he’d expected, and your food was likely a little cool by now, but he was excited to make amends. 

However, you did not seem to share the same enthusiasm as Steve. 

“Welcome home, gorgeous. Come sit,” Steve nudged you into the dining area, and you sluggishly followed, exhausted from a tiring day of training new agents.

“What’s wrong?” he inquired, pulling out a chair that you didn’t even attempt to sit down on. 

“I had a really long day. I kinda just wanna get to bed,” you shrugged before rubbing your creased temple.

Steve internally cringed at the thought of all of his hard work going to waste. For some reason, he’d not envisioned this less pleasant outcome before. “Sweetheart,” he began in a nearly whiny tone, but you weren’t in much of a mood to be persuaded.

“I’m sorry. Weird things were happening at work that I don’t care to get into now, and honestly, I’m not even that hungry,” you reached out and gave Steve’s hand a little squeeze. “But it all looks and smells so good! I Promise I’ll warm some up tomorrow for lunch.”

“I-,” he paused, “please. Maybe you could just take a few bites of everything. It took me a really long time to get everything prepped and ready.”

You frowned at the plea, feeling a bit guilty but almost… satisfied at the same time. Steve struggled to make time for you because of his work, and now he was getting a little taste of his own medicine. 

“I really am sorry. But hey, now we’re even?” you offered with a playful wink, slipping away before you gave your partner a chance to respond. You truly didn’t have the energy for a four course meal that night, let alone another argument. 

——

Wanda was silent for a moment as she sipped from a mug of coffee, watching you with a suspiciously focused look on her face. 

“Wanda?” you prompted, seemingly snapping her out of whatever trance she had found herself in. 

“Oh my God, I know exactly what you guys need,” she just about blurted, reaching across the café table to grab your hand. 

“Were you reading my mind?”

Your friend didn’t respond, but the devious smirk on her face was enough of an answer. 

“What happened to telling me before reading me?”

“You just looked like there was a lot on your mind. And absolutely no way that you’d tell me,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Of course I was gonna tell you! Why else would I ask my friend in a cute relationship to meet me for coffee?”

“Because you like me?”

“No, never that. I just needed advice,” the two of you shared a laugh for a moment.

“Well don’t waste your breath. When Vis and I had a rough patch, we just had to learn each other’s love languages. You’d be surprised just how much that synthezoid values those acts of services.”

“And you?”

“I’m a words of affirmation girl myself,” she shrugged. “You should find out yours, and try to figure out Steve’s. I guarantee it’ll be helpful in the long run. I can send you guys a test, if you want?”

“Oh god no, please don’t tell him that I told you about us. Actually, I didn’t even tell you! You were digging around in my brain, and I don’t appreciate that. Just do me a favor, and don’t share this with anyone, okay?” You paused dramatically, then leaned in to speak to your friend in a whisper, “but send me that test when you get the chance.”

Gift Giving

“A little reality-warping birdie told me you’ve been having some relationship problems,” Tony said teasingly once Bruce left the conference room, leaving him and Steve alone. 

Steve paused for a moment, trying to decide whether he should lie or fess up to the allegation. “How did she know?” Steve finally responded, standing up and pushing the chair he was sitting on behind him. 

Tony shrugged dismissively, “I don’t ask these kinds of things. I just hear in passing that the geriatric is having a hard time and tune in.”

Steve shook his head slightly, rolling his eyes to mask his clear embarrassment. 

“Well, is it true?”

“We’ve just been having the occasional… rift. A little more than occasionally.”

Tony nodded, fake pondering the situation, “well, I always know what I do for Pep, at least after I tell her I’m getting rid of the suit. Go buy her something nice. Really nice, like jewelry, or a purse if she’s into that kind of thing. I would say a car, but I know that Social Security check isn’t getting you too far. You know what? Put it on the company card. My treat.”

Steve wanted to scoff, turn his nose up at the offer like it was a terrible idea, but it really wasn’t. Maybe a material surprise was the way to win you back. He made a soft ‘hmph,’ noise as he mulled it over. “That’s definitely not your worst idea. Thanks,” he gave his teammate a soft smile before collecting himself and heading out of the conference room. 

His first stop after work was some local jeweler. Steve threw on a (not very) inconspicuous outfit before entering the building, where he browsed for a good hour, searching for something that he believed you’d like. After looking at more jewelry than he had ever cared to see in his life, he decided on a necklace with a thin golden chain with a decent sized diamond hanging off of it. It was a little pricier, and you’d be able to tell— but he hoped it would help the gift mean more to you. 

——

When you arrived home late that night, Steve was sitting in the living room waiting for you. It was almost daunting, the sight of him sitting alone on the couch mostly in the dark, only the television illuminating his face. He kind of reminded you of a parent waiting to confront their child who just snuck out, or a concerned friend seconds away from staging an intervention with you. 

Walking past the room, you peeked your head through the doorway, and observed the flat, small box in front of him on the coffee table. 

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greeted, standing up so he could greet you with a hug and grabbing the little box as he did so.

“Is everything okay?” you probed, speaking into Steve’s shoulder.

“Of course. I just wanted you to know how much I love you, and that I’m sorry for not having as much time for you as I should,” he pulled away before holding the box out for you. 

You hesitantly took the box and opened it, letting out a gasp when you viewed the delicate looking gold necklace. 

You were having mixed emotions, because it was clearly beautiful and you were grateful to the gesture. But you knew that this must’ve been expensive, and that it was so unlike Steve to have done something like this. Your frugal, Great Depression era guy wasn’t exactly the most material. 

“I love it,” you gushed, admiring the jewelry. 

“Can I put it on you?” Steve asked, and received a nod in return.

Steve set the box down on the table and lifted up the necklace, bringing it up to your neck and focusing on clasping it in the back.

“Babe, how much was this?” you blurted, not even being able to filter the words before they left your mouth. 

“Hmm? That doesn’t matter,” he dismissed, then stepped away from you to admire your clavicle. 

“It just feels weird letting you spend so much on me.”

“It’s a gift, though. You’re not supposed to think about those things,” he hummed, pressing a chaste peck to your nose. 

“Steve, I got you a Nespresso for Christmas and you wouldn’t stop complaining about how expensive it was. I love it, I really do. It’s beautiful and I’ll always think of you when I wear it. I just think that maybe we should have the same standards for each other,” you stood up from your seat and sidestepped him. “I need a shower.”

Steve watched you walk off, letting your words simmer in his thoughts.

That was the last time he would take relationship advice from Tony. 

Words of Affirmation

This conclusion probably shouldn’t have taken you this long, but you were almost completely sure that this would be the love language to win Steve back over. You felt bad for some of the occurrences between the two of you lately, with sour exchanges and sweet moments that turned bitter on a whim.

In all honesty, you were concerned that Steve doubted your love for him. And if his love language really was words of affirmation, this would certainly convince him otherwise. 

You sat at your desk the night before Steve departed for a two-week mission, trying to write a nice message for him. You tapped your pen on the stock paper in deep thought as you tried to figure out the best thing to say. 

I’m sorry for arguing so much with you lately. You and everything that you do mean the world to me, even when you get on my nerves. I love you more than anything and that will never change. 

The words looked cramped and unkempt on the little note. Your handwriting got messier as you went. You groaned at it, crumpled the paper, and tossed it in your trash bin. Time to start over again.

I’m sorry for arguing with you. I love you a lot. Can you stop picking up your phone when we’re spending time together?

You groaned at the passive aggressive tone of your message. That certainly wasn’t going to get you anywhere. Straight to the bin it goes.

I love you so much so don’t die on your mission or I’ll be pretty upset. Be safe out there xx.

The tone was even more off now. You needed to think of something that would really make Steve remember you while he was gone. For a second, you considered snapping a nude with a polaroid and attaching it to the letter.

I’m sorry that things have been so bad nasty for us lately. I promise that I love you, despite our ups and downs. Nothing will ever change that. I’ll miss you more than you know while you’re gone. Make sure you call me every day, my love. 

A little cheesy, but you signed off with your name regardless, and contentedly looked at your work. The spacing looked correct, the tone wasn’t harsh, and you knew for a fact that Steve would appreciate it.

You stayed up a little later than normal, waiting for Steve to get home and change out of his ‘work clothes’ so that you could slip the note into his utility belt. 

You folded the note to a small little square and set it beside an granola bar in a pocket you’d assumed he frequently used. Content with your work, you laid back in bed until your partner slipped in bed beside you, and sleepily cuddled into you until you were both unconscious. 

—

Around two weeks had passed since Steve had seen you last, and he had decided to stop by the office and finish up paperwork before coming to see you. It had been radio silence on his end, despite the note in his clothing that clearly requested daily contact. Part of you wondered if Steve had seen it at all.

Steve had just finished signing the documents when he finally noticed it, reaching into a sparsely used part of his belt to have a quick snack. His hand landed on a folded piece of paper, and he cringed as he unfolded it, the letter becoming clearer and clearer as he did so. He wondered just how long the message had been waiting for him. 

He read your sweet words with a frown on his face, the guilt from not opening it sooner overriding the sweet feelings that he would otherwise have. He grabbed his phone and considered texting you, but abandoned that thought altogether. 

“FRIDAY, any idea where Y/N is right now?”

“I was told not to share any information about Ms. L/N, Captain Rogers.”

“Whose orders?” Steve pressed.

“Hers,” the bot quipped back. 

Steve groaned aloud. He was really in for it tonight.

Physical Touch

“Have you tried touching her more?” Thor casually queried. The water that Steve had just consumed nearly flew out of his nose, and his cheeks reddened instantly. 

“Pardon?” he asked, looking away from his friend instantly. 

“I understand that you and Y/N have been having troubles lately. Perhaps she does not feel held by you. Maybe she wants you to show her off in public, to hold her hand, hug her,” he suggested. 

Could Steve even be blamed for going there? He was having a chat with a god of fertility. Who wouldn’t think the same? 

“Stark’s gala tonight. Show the world that she’s yours, and I guarantee that she’ll love every moment of it.”

——

You were confused. Really confused.

The night began with some simple touches, hand holding as you entered the building, a casual arm around your waist as you chatted with donors and politicians you hadn’t seen in months, a playful match of footsie under the table while waiting for food. But it came to a head when Steve had decided to rest his hand on your ass and grope you in the midst of a conversation.

Now, in any other situation, you would welcome this affection. But both you and Steve had never been a fan of PDA, and this was a bit too far. 

As subtle as you could manage, you pushed his hand away, offering him a sour look as you did so. 

“Excuse us,” you told some rich old man in an artificially sweet tone before ushering Steve off to his office for a bit more privacy.

“What was that about?” you questioned, sitting down in the padded chair behind Steve’s desk, and running your fingers over your necklace in a bit of a nervous tick. 

“What do you mean?” he retorted, standing across from you at the desk and setting his hands on top of the clear table.

“Why were you groping me in front of people? That’s really... unlike you. And it made me uncomfortable.”

Steve frowned genuinely, looking down at the table in embarrassment. “I’m really sorry. For making you uncomfortable. It sounds ridiculous but I was just trying something new.”

“Apology accepted, but are you sure? You weren’t like, jealous of those guys or something? You know you’re the only hundred year old I have eyes for,” you set your hands atop of his and squeezed.

Steve chuckled at this, the flush of his cheeks only highlighted more by the laughter, “it’s just that, uh, Thor told me I should try showing you off more. Or something like that.”

“So you groped me in front of our guests? That’s silly. And a little unprofessional,” you glanced over at the cork board on his desk sitting next to his desktop, and amongst the neatly arranged scratched out to-do lists and random reminders, you couldn’t help but notice the creased paper of the note you’d left for his mission. Your chest warmed when your eyes fell upon it. 

“When did you find this thing?” you asked, pointing to the note. 

“I meant to say something, but when I found it, FRIDAY said you didn’t want to talk to me. SO I was going to bring it up when I got home, but you were still working. After that, I kinda… you know-”

“Forgot?” you finished with a hearty laugh, “It’s fine. You’re such a dork. C’mere so I can get my own groping in,” you chided, grinning to yourself when Steve wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. 

Acts of Service

Steve was quietly folding your laundry in your bedroom when it finally occurred to you, but when it did, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Steve’s love language was acts of service!

Things suddenly began to make sense to you, the way that he initially attempted to apologize by spending hours cooking one meal, how he consistently worked to make your life as comfortable as possible, and his great insistence to do house chores, despite you being more than capable.

Steve set down a stack of folded sweatshirts by your calf, snapping you away from your brief retrospective daze. If that really was the case, and Steve’s love language truly was acts of kindness, you had to come up with some sort of plan to communicate to him just how much you cared about him in a way that he really appreciated.

Luckily for you, you were a quick thinker. Before you even knew it, a week filled with random acts of kindness before he was off on yet another mission was quickly hatched.

——

You were up at the ass-crack of dawn. Really. Steve liked to get up earlier than the sun in order to run, or train, or whatever the hell it was that superheroes did. You were seriously regretting your decision to wake up around the same time as him in order to do some favors for him in the morning. 

By the time Steve was back from his run, his favorite coffee was brewed and cooling, and you were in the laundry room at the dryer, preparing to give Steve a warm towel after his shower.

Despite the three mugs of coffee you’d just downed, it was becoming more and more difficult to keep your eyes open. It didn’t help that your eyelids felt like they weighed fifty pounds each, and the warmth of the dryer next to you was providing you with just enough comfort to drift off.

And drift you did. In fact, half an hour later, you’d missed the frantic calling out for you from your boyfriend as he searched for you around the apartment. 

You finally awoke when he shook your shoulders, his amused voice bringing you back to consciousness. 

“What’s going on here?” Steve grinned, pushing some hair out of your face. 

“Mmm,” you began, “Iwantedtogetawarmtowel,” you slurred sleepily and incoherently.

“Even with super hearing I couldn’t decipher that. Let’s get you a mattress, okay?” Steve hoisted you up like you were nothing, and carried your half asleep body all the way up to your bedroom. 

The next thing you knew, you were buried under your favorite comforter and propped against a mountain of feathery pillows. A gentle forehead kiss and an incomprehensible sentence about calling off of work for you later, you were back in a deep sleep. 

So much for warm towels.

—

You were going to do better this time. That’s what you told yourself as you strolled through the grocery store, the same store that you hadn’t shopped in since moving in with Steve, as he preferred to do the shopping himself.

Equipped with a short paper list and sheer determination to make the trip as short and accurate as possible, you gathered all of the groceries that you believed were necessary— just enough to restock the fridge, and fill some gaps left in the cupboard. 

Your time at the store was indeed brief, as you found yourself in the checkout lane after just twenty minutes (you definitely weren’t going to brag about that to Steve later. Definitely not), and back home with just enough time to unload the groceries, and further prep yourself to go to work. 

You’d honestly forgotten about your trip to the store by the time that you arrived home, up until you found your boyfriend arm deep in your pantry, hellbent on finding… something.

“Can I help you?” you poked with a laugh, coming up beside Steve and peeking over his shoulder.

“I’m just… Did you happen to grab any protein bars while you were at the store?” he asked, pausing his search to look back at you.

“I don’t think so. Why? It’s not like you need any more protein,” you teased, squeezing a bicep to demonstrate your words.

“They’re pretty convenient when I’m out in the field. Don’t worry about it, though. I’ll just swing by the store and grab some before my mission tomorrow. Actually, I should probably go now. Y’know, before I forget,” Steve was already grabbing his car keys from the counter by the time his sentence was finished, leaving you to fight off your disappointment at your minor grocery store failure.

You looked at what you now knew was an insufficiently filled pantry and pinched the bridge of your nose. You had seriously underestimated the ins and outs of shopping for a super soldier. 

Well, third time’s the charm?

—

After this week, you would never complain about waking up early again. You were now up at an absolutely ungodly hour, scrambling eggs, flipping pancakes, and spreading jam on toast for a sleeping, unsuspecting Steve.

You placed the plate on a sturdy wooden tray, poured orange juice and an extra glass of water, and set a nicely folded napkin, along with utensils, next to the items.

You hoped that the scent of bacon wafting up to your bedroom would eventually pull him out of his slumber, and seeing how bacon was the only thing left to finish cooking, you took a little break. 

A round of Candy Crush turned into two, then three, and goddamnit, why can’t you beat this fourth level! You got so wrapped up in your mobile game that you didn’t even notice when the scent from your kitchen became slightly rancid, and when you rushed over to the oven to check on your now extremely burnt bacon, the smoke detector wailed.

You grabbed a kitchen towel and waved your arms like a madwoman near the smoke detector, the shrieking eventually stopping, but not before Steve was halfway down the stairs.

“Y/N, where are you? Is everything okay?” he nearly shouted, racing down the stairs and barreling through the smoky kitchen to find you. When he reached you, he wrapped his arms around your waist and began to pull you out of the kitchen. 

“Steve, relax. Everything is okay. Except those pieces of bacon,” you rubbed your now sweaty palms on your pajama pants before breaking away from him to crack open the kitchen window. 

“Christ, what happened? And why are you up so early?”

“I was trying to make you breakfast in bed,” you admitted, rather embarrassed by the dramatic scene you’d accidentally created. “Sorry,” you muttered.

Steve wrapped his arms around you once more, this time in a reassuring bear hug that left your cheeks pressed to his chest. “Don’t be. I really appreciate this, and everything else you’ve done this week. It’s the thought that counts, right?”

“I guess,” you mumbled into his shirt. 

“Besides, everything else looks delicious. And you tried your best for me while trying something new. I think that’s really sweet of you.”

“Really?” you pried, looking up at him.

“Really,” Steve confirmed.

“Well, I think it would be really sweet of you if you went back to bed and got all cozy so I can take care of you.”

Steve chuckled softly, pressed a little kiss to your nose, then nodded, “yes ma’am.”

Quality Time

Steve had been in a bubbly mood since getting back from his mission, and for no particular reason. It wasn’t like you weren’t happy that your partner was happy, but feeling like you were out of the loop was slightly concerning.

Before you could let your thoughts run too wild, you decided to pop the question during one of your evening walks. 

“Okay Steve, what is going on with you?” you asked, veering to the side of the trail when a biker rode past you. 

“Nothing big. Nothing too important. I’m just out of service for the next three months,” Steve said casually, playing it cool. 

“What?!” you paused, your brows raising and eyes widening in surprise as you searched his face for sincerity. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack.”

“Steve!” you gasped happily, nearly roaring out his name in excitement. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“I was going to tell you before wining and dining you, but you beat me to it. So…?”

“…So I’m happy to have you back. I may need you to negotiate some time away from work for me in the next few months, then. I don’t wanna miss this preview of stay-at-home-dad-Steve.”

“Hey, don’t push it.”

“Oh, I’m planning on pushing it.” 

Epilogue

The sun was beating down on you, but the soothing breeze that flowed past your checked blanket every so often provided a pleasant antidote to the summer heat.

You’d truly picked the best day for a picnic.

Despite spending a good amount of time with your partner, the last month and a half had truly felt like a whirlwind. You casually started looking for a forever home, found yourselves making plans for an early retirement, and you had a new, sneaking suspicion that a proposal was on the horizon.

In the midst of it all, Steve had suggested that the two of you take a midday tryst at your local park and throw yourselves a little picnic. Of course you obliged, because when your greek god of a boyfriend suggests going on a spur of the moment date, you agree.

You now watched the nearly cloudless sky with pure, unadulterated feelings of content and joy while Steve set a slice of cheese on a cracker, leaning over your body to feed you. As you opened your mouth, Steve paused abruptly at the soft vibration coming from his pocket. 

Steve resumed as if nothing had changed, popping the cracker into your open mouth and letting his phone continue to ring.

“Don’t you wanna get that?” you questioned.

“It can wait,” Steve stated nonchalantly, slipping his phone out of his pocket and pressing decline with absolutely no hesitation before tossing the device to the edge of your blanket.

You didn’t realize how long you’d been waiting to hear those three words.

-------

a/n: this could’ve been solved in like 20 minutes by sitting down and taking a love language quiz together

[marrys-dream-world]

Imposter

Read on AO3

Summary:  Adrien's mother is kind and sweet and loving. The only problem is that it isn't her at all.

Notes: This is based off on this post by @infinitysgrace and a post athat I can’t find anymore, but was about how Emilie’s eye color could be wrong in the wishmaker flashback because it wasn’t her, it was a sentimonster. I took some liberties with sentimonster lore because I’m not 100% sure about all that, but I think it turned out well. 

One of Adrien’s earliest memories is of crying. 

He was young, perhaps three or four, and his room was blurry through his tears. When he grew older, he would get used to his father’s insistence that a night light was coddling Adrien, but at the moment, all he knew was the darkness surrounding him. The room was too big and his bed was in the middle of it, the light from the huge windows playing shadows that tricked his eyes. So he started crying, hoping it would call his parent’s attention and that they would come to him.

(When he grew older, he would learn that crying was useless.)

He felt more than saw his mother coming in, leaving the door open in a crack of light. Her arms wrap around him and she hums soothingly, the sound filling up his chest. She’s warm and smells sweet, like her favorite lavender perfume. He sinks into her, tears drying and sobs reducing to whines. He has tired himself out with that and would probably fall asleep even if left alone, but his mother doesn’t leave. She tucks him in and stays as his eyes close.

The last thing he sees are her wide blue eyes. 

-

Both his parents have drastic mood changes, but Adrien would say that his mother is the most prominent example of this. His father is usually just stoic and, if Adrien pushes him enough, gets annoyed with him. At worst, he’ll get angry and rage at Adrien, calmed down only by his mother’s calm words as she diverts his attention so Adrien can get away. His mother, though, always feels like whiplash.

“Why can’t I go with you?” Adrien, aged seven, asks his mother. He’s sitting on her bed as she packs her bag for another trip with his father. He stopped keeping count of them after the fifth. 

“You’re too young, baby.” She said and even the pet name didn’t stop the sting from her dismissive tone. “Next time, okay?”

He bits back a ‘you said that last time, too’. 

“But I’m already- “

“Adrien.” His mother chides, frowning. Her (disappointed) green eyes held him down. “I said you could stay here with me if you weren't going to be disruptive. Can’t you behave, just this once?”

He swallows back a lump in his throat. “I-I’m sorry, mother.”

But she already turned her back to him and packed the rest of her bag in silence. His mother leaves out her customary goodbye kiss when she leaves for the trip. He isn’t allowed downstairs to see them go and Nathalie insists it isn't a punishment, even though it feels like it. Adrien mopes in his room, not feeling up to enjoy his free day, no tutors or photoshoots, when all he can think about is his mother.

That’s why he’s taken back when she walks in his room.

“Mother?” He gaps, unable to hide his surprise. “I thought you left. Aren’t you going to miss your trip?!”

“I changed my mind, Adrien. Your father and I decided that the trip would be more productive with just him.” She said, eyes warm. Adrien always thought it was beautiful how her eyes could look blue or green, depending on the light. 

“But why?” He asked. She had been so excited for the trip!

“To stay with my precious son, of course.” His mother said, taking him into her arms.

All his questions evaporated right then and there. 

-

After their last trip, his parents decided to take a break from traveling. To network, his father informed him, which meant more boring family dinners and stiff ties. His mom always tuts when he complains about it, so he stays silent this time. At least it’s a dinner with Chloé, his best friend, and her family, so he and her are really only required to have dinner and then they can go off and play in the hotel rooms. 

“Arnold- “ Mrs. Bourgeois starts during dinner, before being nervously corrected by her husband.

“It’s Adrien, dear.”

“Oh right, Adrien. You grew up really well, you look more like your mother everyday.” Other people say it gushing, followed by a ‘so cute’ and pinches to the cheek. Mrs. Bourgeois says it like it’s a fact she approves of; Chloé even copies the small nod her mother makes. “You have her eyes.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I don’t think so.” He says as politely as he can, but everyone in the table still throws him confused glances.

“You don’t think you look like your mother?” His father asked, raising an eyebrow.

Adrien shook his head. “No, I just don’t think I have her eyes. Mother’s eyes are blue and green and mine are just green.”

The Bourgeois family looks at him like he grew a second head. His parents, however, become tense all of sudden.

“Emilie, Gabriel, I think your son might be colorblind.” Mrs. Bourgeois says dryly and Adrien waits for his parents to come to his defense. They don’t. 

“Maybe. You know how children are.” His mother says, lightly. “I love your hat, Audrey. Is it new?”

The topic changes to Audrey’s new fashion exploits and Adrien and Chloé are finally allowed to go play. 

(Nathalie takes him to an eye doctor Mr. Bourgeois recommended the next day. The colorblind tests come back as negative.)

-

At age eight, Adrien was already used to working on fashion shows for his father’s brand. It didn’t make them easier to go through, however. 

It’s a summer one, this time, and his clothes are light and airy and his skin felt itchy and hot in the air conditioned cat walk. Looking at the bright lights around him hurt and the camera felt like it was looking uncomfortably deep into his soul. Was it too obvious that he wanted to run away? The crowd claps everytime he comes and everyone is smiling. Except for his father. 

After the show, his father spends the rest of the ride in silence as his mother tries to defuse the heavy tension that permeated the air with small talk and gushing compliments about the clothes and Adrien’s performance. It falls flat as she hardly looks like she’s up for talking, dark shadows under her eyes and skin paler than usual. Whenever Adrien asks her if she’s sick, she denies. As soon as they arrive home, he drags Adrien from the car towards the house, grip strong on his left upper arm. 

“Do you enjoy embarrassing me in front of everyone, Adrien?” His father asked calmly, but his hand tightened on his arm. 

Adrien couldn’t speak. It felt like it was happening to someone else, his mind weirdly detached from the situation. The only thing stopping him from floating away was the pain in his arm. 

“That’s enough, Gabriel.” He heard his mother, voice muffled. It felt like he was underwater in the pool and she was speaking from far away. Her hand, though, he felt acutely as she extricated his father’s hand from his arm. “Adrien, go, please.”

He runs away without second thought, only pausing guiltily at leaving his mother with his irate father when he starts hearing his father’s screaming. Adrien hides under the blankets in his room, heart racing long after the noise stops as he tries to focus his mind into anything else. He startles when he feels a hand touching his blanket cocoon. 

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby.” He hears his mother’s voice and frantically tears his blanket away. 

Adrien relaxes as he looks into her wide blue eyes and comforting smile, trying to leap for a hug. She stops him. 

“Let me see your arm first.” She says and he reluctantly takes off his jacket, wincing. The bruise on his arm doesn’t look pretty, so it’s for the best that he doesn’t go out much after fashion shows. “I can’t believe I let you get hurt.”

Her tone is soft and she looks, weirdly enough, genuinely confused as she touches the bruise on his arm and coos in apology as he flinches. 

“Father is just stressed.” Adrien parrots back his mother’s usual spiel after his dad does something less than exemplary. “It’s just how she is, it’s okay.”

"It 's not okay.” His mother says right away. “I’m supposed to not let anything hurt you, Adrien.” 

She says that with such a passion that he can believe she actually means it. But instead of the elation he expected when he heard it, all he felt was a surge of anger. Because why now? After all those moments when she scolded him for avoiding his father or not looking him in the eye, why now?

“There isn’t anything we can do about it, is there?.” He snaps, echoing her words to him from what felt like yesterday. 

She deflated. “I’m sorry. There isn’t.”

-

His father went away from a trip again and his mother, once again, decided to stay. 

Spending time with his mother during father’s trip was great, especially since she was in such a good mood and looking much healthier than she did these days. She lets him have an extra scoop of ice cream for dessert as soon as Nathalie turns her back on them, she spends the whole day playing with him in the garder, she helps with his homework and makes him a snack between classes. They play the piano together, making up different tunes and giggling. 

“Don’t I have to practice this?” He asked, pointing to the sheets of the classical song he was supposed to learn. 

His mother wrinkled her nose.

“You already work too hard, Adrien, it’s nice to have some fun once in a while.” She said, twisting her wedding ring on her finger. She usually didn’t wear it when spending time with him, only when she spent time with father, so it caught his attention. “Besides, nobody has to know.” 

They watch a movie he picked that night. His mother rarely did that and when she did, she was very picky about it. Artist stuff, he supposed. This time he got to choose, though, and he picked on based on a manga he liked, Astroboy. His mother seemed excited in the beginning, but her mood quickly subdued as the movie went on. 

“Are you not liking it?” He whispered to her and she shook her head.

“I am, baby, don’t worry. Are you?”

“Yeah. It's not really like the manga, but I like it.” He said. “I just think it’s a little unfair, you know. How he doesn’t know he isn’t really the scientist’s son, that he’s just a robot.”

His mother’s arms tighten around him. “I don’t think it’s unfair.”

“Really?” Adrien watched as the images from the screen played on his mother’s blue eyes.

“Really.” She repeated. “Him knowing would be crueler.”

-

At age ten, Adrien is awakened on a rainy night by his mother shaking him.

It was the night his father was supposed to come back from a trip and he had spent a fun day with his mother, studying and playing (“You need both to be a healthy boy, Adrien!” She grinned at him and he beamed back at her). His mother had looked a little skittish earlier, looking over her shoulder often only to just find Natahalie and fidgeting with the ring on her hand, that she usually wore every time his father was traveling. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong and insisted she hadn’t been sick. Nevertheless, he worried. 

“Mother, what’s wrong?” He asked, sleepiness fading away as he noticed how frantic she looked. 

“Adrien, I’ve been thinking about this for a while. Every moment I’ve been conscious, it’s been on my mind. Can you trust me?” She asked him, stroking his head with the hand that wore her wedding ring, and he nodded. “I need you to pack a small bag and come with me, okay? We’re going on a trip, just you and me.”

“A trip?” It was all he ever wanted, but the look in his mother’s blue eyes made him hesitate. “Is everything okay?”

“No, baby.” She said, kissing the top of his head. “But it will be. Hurry up, I need you to pack while I handle some things. Meet me downstairs in five minutes, okay?”

With anyone else, even his father, he would have asked more questions. This was his beloved mother, though, so he just got up and started to pack his clothes and some of his stuff that he couldn’t do a few days without. He carefully closed his door, running down the stair and to his mother by the door. She looked damp, her outfit changed and an umbrella hanging by her feet along with some bags. 

“Adrien?” She asked, turning her green eyes to him. In her left hand, she held her wedding ring.

“Mother? Are you okay?” He asked, noting how much paler and shakier she looked than when he saw her upstairs. 

“Yes, of course.” His mother said as she put her wedding ring back on. “Whatever I said to you upstairs, forget it, okay?”

“W-what?”

“I didn’t know what I was saying.” She said, eyes staring straight at her ring. “Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. Go back to bed, baby. Your father is back earlier than expected and he won’t like to see you up so late. ”

He nodded, unwilling to argue, and took his bag back with him to his room. His mother suddenly acting weird and standoffish wasn’t anything new, it was fine. She would go back to being his sweet, kind mother soon enough. He was sure of it. 

(She never did.)

[officialscaramouche]

Hanahaki — a gift for @ambers-glider

Pairing: Scaramouche x Gn!Reader

Summary: Scaramouche caught a love sickness that could only be cured by mutual love.

AN: please read @ambers-glider ‘s part one and two before reading this so that it makes sense :)

Warnings: language

Word count: 1,691

Scaramouche felt bad for you. It was by pure coincidence that he saw you when you caught sight of Victor and his girlfriend. He saw the way your face dropped when she clung to his arm and he sympathized for you. But it was your fault anyway. Everyone knew Victor had a girlfriend, but since you were always cooped up in your office I guess it couldn’t be helped.

Noticing the way your personality had changed, Scaramouche actually kind of liked it. You weren’t annoyingly upbeat and overly friendly like before, so he found himself visiting your office more. He enjoyed the silence the two of you shared, even if he wasn’t always welcomed.

Childe would unfortunately come in every now and then to check in on you especially after finding out that Scaramouche often hung out in your office. And when he did, the two of you would talk briefly about mindless things. Scaramouche didn’t understand why it mattered to talk about stupid things like the weather, or what you were having for lunch.

Scaramouche walked into your room a little more forcefully than normal. At first he didn’t say anything, especially after you told him you wanted to be alone. But after sitting on the couch there for a while, reading the book he brought to work, he broke the silence. “What are your plans for today?” He asked casually, not taking his eyes off his book.

You looked at him incredulously. Was he seriously trying to have small talk with you? “...Nothing. After work, I have to do laundry.”

It was silent once more, this time a bit more awkward than it usually was. He shut his book and hummed, standing to stare at you from the other side of your desk. “Would you like to join me at Third Round Knockout?”

You leaned back in your chair to look up at him closely. What was his deal? What point does he want to make with bothering you for lunch? At least he asked you now, after getting over your sickness, rather than before when you would’ve jumped at the idea. You couldn’t deny your curiosity, however. “Are you paying?”

Scaramouche scowled. “I guess I am.”

It was weird sitting at an intimately small table with your boss. But it also had been a while since anyone had taken you out. Scaramouche didn’t eat out much, but it was your favorite restaurant. He asked for your opinion on some foods, but once the waiter took your orders, it was challenging to find something to talk about. You stared out a window until he finally broke the silence. “It’s good that you’re feeling better,” he said plainly.

“Thanks, I guess,” you responded curtly.

The both of you decided that instead of forcing conversation, you’d just sit in uncomfortable silence. After a while, Scaramouche coughed awkwardly into a fist and excused himself from the table. On the way there, the itch in his throat began to grow itchier and itchier until he slammed the bathroom door open and hung his head over the sink, his fingers grasping desperately at the edges. He scratched at his throat as he continued to hack, tears beginning to well in his eyes as he struggled to find relief in his coughs. Finally, whatever was caught in his throat came up and he spat it into the sink, the purple petal coated in his saliva falling helplessly before him. “You’ve gotta be fucking with me— ackh!” His cough grew more and more persistent as petals came spilling from his lips. He slapped his hands onto his cheeks and screamed. “What the fuck!!”

His shout was heard by the entire restaurant. People looked around nervously, some of them at you remembering that he was with you. You laughed in embarrassment, tentatively walking to the bathrooms to make sure he was okay.

A couple of men scrambled out of the restroom as you approached, making side comments about Scaramouche. “What the hell is his problem?” One of them mutters.

You knock before entering, announcing yourself as you push the door open. “Sir, it’s me, are you okay?”

He stared at himself in the mirror, hunched over the sink, with spit dribbling down his chin. “Get out.” He spits, a couple of weak coughs puffing out of his cheeks.

“Oh,” you breathe, noticing the sink full of petals. “Oh, sir I’m sorry,” you walk over to him and begin washing the petals down the sink. “We need to get you looked at quickly!”

“No!” He shoved you away, hating to admit that his heart was pounding when your hands held his shoulders. “I don’t want to be fucking operated on!”

“It’s okay!” You reassure, pulling him up from the sink. “The reason why...I was so upset about Victor is because he made me fall in love with him. To get over someone else…” Scaramouche closed his eyes to focus on curving the coughs. ...And to listen to your voice. “I know I’m not the best to look at, but I can try to help.”

Scaramouche couldn’t help but to smile at your innocence. How were you going to help? You were the problem! “...You’re right you’re not attractive at all.” You furrowed your brows and put your hands to your hips. He laughed at your expression. “Fine. You can try to help me.”

He was setting himself up for failure, he knew that. But seeing you try so hard to figure out the type of person he liked was amusing to him. One day you were doting, cooking for him and making sure he drank water. But then the next you were neglectful, thinking that maybe he didn’t like someone who doted on him. You tried being clingy, you tried playing hard to get. You tried cleaning his house, you tried making it filthy. Nothing seemed to be working since he coughed up more and more petals everyday, but as he lay there feeling the life drain out of him with every cough, he seemed to feel pretty happy in his final days.

Soon enough, he was too weak to even open his eyes. You tucked the blanket snugly around him and exchanged the cool towel on his forehead. “Please let me tell Childe,” you whispered.

He scowled, amazingly mustering enough energy to do so, and coughed. “No,” he said weakly. “I don’t want— ackh— anyone to cut me open.”

“I’ll cut you open myself!” You joked, pulling at the shirt he wore.

“I’d let you,” he smiled. He figured that if he was to die today, he might as well tell you how he felt. “You’re so dumb, [Y/N]. But that’s what I like about you. You work so hard no matter what you’re doing. Whether it’s paperwork or watching over me...you give it your all.” You blinked at him, trying to process his words. “Maybe if I had been a little nicer to you...I wouldn’t be lying here dying. Maybe we’d actually have been in love.”

“What are you saying?” You ask dumbfoundedly, your hands shaking where they lay on the bed.

“These stupid petals, [Y/N], they’re for you.”

It took you a moment to understand what he was saying so clearly as day. The man you had nearly died for, now lay dying for you. You spent almost two months suffering because he had not cared about you and now he spent these last two months suffering. But you suffered alone. This time, Scaramouche was suffering with you right by his side.

“I...I don’t know what to say.” You said finally.

Scaramouche turned over to lay on his side, facing his back toward you. “That’s alright. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted to let you know, that way I would die without regret.”

“No, sir, you don’t understand.” You swallowed the lump in your throat to muster up the courage.

Scaramouche began to feel relief as he lay there. These are my last few minutes, he thought to himself. His body grew too weak to cough. At least, he figured, he’d die without coughing his lungs out.

You fiddle with your fingers and hyped yourself up to admit why you were sick in the first place. “Scaramouche...the reason I was sick...was because I loved you.”

Scaramouche was too weak to cough. So he should’ve been too weak to sit up. He sat up with such vigor, turning to look at you. He had been laying in bed for four days now, unable to sit up. Yet here he was, looking at you. The itch in his throat ceased. He didn’t stop coughing because he was weak. He stopped coughing because you returned his feelings.

Soon, the pink in his lips began to reappear. The color in his cheeks flushed, and his body aches seemingly disappeared. He tentatively reached forward, afraid that he had died and gone to celestia. This was a dream, this wasn’t real.

He cupped your cheek and caressed the skin there with his thumb. You held the hand on your face and leaned into the contact. All these months you had been suppressing your love for Scaramouche.

You didn’t want to be sick again. You forced your love onto Victor and latched on intensely so as to move on. But you didn’t know that while you were loving Victor, Scaramouche had been loving you. Watching you laugh and cling to Victor made him jealous. Jealous and possessive. When you recovered he wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. He wanted to learn more about you, talk to you, see the smile you used to give Victor. He wanted to see that smile and he wanted to make you his.

“You love me?” He asked barely over a whisper.

“I don't know why, but yes,” you joked with a laugh, a bright smile spread across your lips.

Scaramouche smiled too, albeit very little, but still a smile. The harbinger, and now your new boyfriend, promised himself that he’d protect that smile. Especially from Victor. “Good. You’re all mine.”

[shokobuns]

something sweet

maybe having someone to help you out in the stockroom wasn't so bad after all.

PAIRING: itadori yuuji x reader

GENRE: fluff, strangers to lovers

WORD COUNT: 2.5k

WARNINGS: almost stabbed, mentions of sharp things (boxcutters and broken glass), making out

it’s not like you had a problem with the same menial tasks everyday.

in fact, you would even say that it was a fun way to spend your free period. it was better than doing some complicated assignment or even having to talk to people with your lack of sleep and patience. coffee never allowed for a proper nap no matter how exhausted you were and your teacher wouldn’t allow that anyways.

it was an easy job that you could do with minimal help. all you had to do was put the beakers away, clean up the floor once in awhile, maybe pop some bubble wrap when new packages arrived. being alone in the stockroom was nice because you were able to turn on some music on your headphones, do whatever dances you felt like doing as long as you were still doing your job. no help was needed or wanted.

“where should i put this?”

you jump, nearly stabbing the blonde haired boy behind you with a boxcutter. luckily, he was quick, jumping backwards with a yelp as you took a deep breath in to process the situation. you didn’t accidentally hurt the boy in front of you, did you? your face falls and the initial rush of fear turns into guilt. “i’m sorry! i didn’t know you were there!”

“it’s okay,’ he responds with a smile, unphased by the fact his shirt had almost been slashed, ‘i understand. you’re probably here alone most of the time, right?”

“yeah, i wasn’t expecting for anyone else to be here,” you sigh before realizing what he had probably walked in on before the whole ordeal, “wait.. did you see me doing anything?”

“you’re a pretty good dancer if that’s what you’re asking.”

embarrassment. your cheeks feel unbelievably hot and your stomach turns while embarrassment settles in your body. this period was your alone time, your chance to flail about and having someone else witness it? definitely not preferable. although, he does seem nice and he hasn’t made fun of you. not yet, at least.

his voice brings you out of your train of thought. “so, where should i put that thing?”

he carries on as if nothing happened. thank god. “the flask goes in that cabinet, bottom shelf. you’ll see more just like it.” you reply, pointing to the space.

he mumbles a quick thank you before doing unloading more of the new flasks onto the cabinet. you work on your own, choosing to count the new magnets on the other side of the room, doing your best to avoid him considering you just embarrassed yourself in front of the stranger by nearly injuring him for asking a simple question. though, he looks slightly familiar, he’ll probably be gone tomorrow and that’s all that matters.

behind you, yuji takes small glances while he puts away the flasks, waiting for you to turn around and ask for his name. hell, he’s waiting for any type of question. after all, who sees a random boy in their work space and doesn’t question it at all?

when the next day comes, you’re proven wrong because he sits in the chair, awaiting another order from you. you curse under your breath before putting on a faux smile. “do you need help with anything?”

“do you need help with anything?”

“no, thanks. i’m good on my own. you can go back to whatever you do in this period.”

he scratches his head, eyebrows furrowing together. “i thought you needed help. that’s what my math teacher told me when he sent me here.”

“not really? i can usually get a lot done on my own. who told you i needed help?”

“gojo. i’m his teacher assistant, but i don’t know how to do the math he’s teaching, so i can’t really help anyone.” he explains

“oh, yeah! i had him for calculus last semester,” your eyes light up at the mention of your favorite white haired mentor, “weird guy. good teacher.”

wait. gojo’s teacher assistant?

you’ve heard your friends talk about him, given that they were in that exact class the blonde haired boy was supposed to be in right now. the one guy that pe teachers fawn over and coaches try to recruit? why did they put him in the math department instead of pe? what’s his name again? yuki? yugi?

“you’re yuji itadori?”

“yuji itadori.” he confirms and you’re relieved. good thing you didn’t mess up his name.

no wonder he looked familiar. miwa was fascinated by his physical ability, you distinctly remember her pointing him out during lunch and telling you about how he was ‘scarily fast’ and could probably ‘lift ten of her at a time.’ although, it was from far away and he was partially blocked by a girl with short brown hair and megumi, the intimidating spikey haired quiet boy in some of your classes.

but yuji didn’t look like someone who could lift ten miwas up close. maybe he was hiding behind the oversized hoodie he wore, but he was a kind looking boy with wide eyes and messy tufts of strawberry blonde hair. throughout the short time you’ve seen him up close, he always had a slight smile on his resting face. in short, he looked approachable and was seemingly friendly.

“so, do you need help with anything?” he asks again and you decide that maybe he can be of use to you. especially if he has the strength that miwa had described.

“actually, yeah. can you lift those boxes over there and bring them to the other side of the room? they’re kind of heavy-”

she was correct because he lifts the box, which is supposedly about thirty kilograms according to your teacher, with ease. now, you don’t have to constantly go back and forth around the room just to put the packaged metal away in a farther cabinet and he can probably just put them away himself, too. it goes that way for the next hour and a half, both of you staying in your respective sides of the room, putting away your own respective items.

“thanks, itadori.”

“call me yuji.”

“will do.”

over the next two weeks, you two don’t talk as much as yuji had hoped.

he still remembers gojo’s words of encouragement, his push to get his favorite student to talk to the person who drops off notes to the teacher across the hallway from time to time. he’s never talked to you and he doubts you would even know that he existed in the first place. in fact, he was perfectly content with just stapling the papers that gojo would give him, maybe getting his own homework done in the period, but he was insistent.

“i’ve seen you staring outside the window whenever they pass by, yuji. just talk to them.”

“it’s okay.’

“no it’s not. get to know her. what if they’re nice? hmmmmm?”

“i’ll talk to her myself at some point.”

that was all it took for gojo to leave him alone, not that he didn’t like gojo or anything, especially with gojo being his second favorite teacher in the first place, but he’s content with his little crush. and again, he doubted that you would remember him in your history class and from the looks of it, he was right.

he just didn’t expect to be sent at the very stockroom that you would be in. for the rest of the semester. gojo had definitely set him up for something.

yuji was in that conflicting position in which he didn’t know whether to start a conversation or not because he didn’t want to bother you. but he also wanted to get to know you up close. of course he can sense your exhaustion himself through droopy eyelids that threaten to close and your dependence on caffeine, something he had learned about you so far in these few weeks. the only thing, it seems like.

as for you, a short talk with your science teacher confirmed that he wouldn’t be leaving anytime soon and though you will miss dancing around the stockroom by yourself, he wasn’t bad company. he mostly kept to himself, often being more rigid when you barely spared him a glance. at the times you would speak to him, he seemed more excitable and easygoing, listening to every word you say.

“yuji?”

“hmm?”

“come help me by unboxing these beakers, alright?” you patted the spot next to you before sliding the blade down the tape, “don’t worry. i’m not gonna stab you.”

“i guess i’ll help,” he snorts, “don’t you usually do these by yourself?”

“yeah, but since you’re spending the semester with me in here, we might as well get to know each other right?”

the whirring of the fan, the sound of your voice — it all seemed to fade into the background as his heart thumped hard in his chest. a million thoughts, both good and bad, race through his head as he formulated different questions, answers, and scenarios in his mind, all of them being a jumble of fantasy and panic.

you wave a hand in front of his face in an attempt to catch his attention. he seemed completely frozen, staring at you with dead eyes and it’s now that you realize you haven’t seen him up this close. honey brown eyes, the soft curve of his nose, and were those crinkles under his eyes, too? up until now, you only knew him as the ‘athletic man who was bad at math’, but he was also undeniably beautiful with his carved face and strawberry blonde hair.

“yuuuuuuuji?”

“oh! i’m sorry! did you say you wanted to get to know me?”

“yeah, we’re kind of stuck in this room everyday for an hour and a half together. i might as well find out what your favorite color is or something.”

“red! my turn! what were you listening to when you almost stabbed me?”

“hey! it was an accident!” he giggles, slicing the tape seal down the middle and opening up the package and pointing right at it. “you see that? that could have been me. i should at least know what i’m being stabbed to.”

“meg thee stallion..”

“nevermind. she’s beautiful and i wouldn’t mind dying to her music.”

you snort, thinking up another question. maybe you should ask him about why that megumi guy was so gloomy? nope, might get too personal. what about the reason he’s here? nope, you already know.

“why don’t you do any sports even though you’re literally physically gifted?” you ask curiously. there’s still a smile on his face, but his expression becomes more wistful. you didn’t accidentally hit a spot, did you?

“my grandpa is in the hospital,” oh shit, you think, “i visit him everyday and if i was on a team, i would have to go to practice at the same time.”

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hit a sensitive topic, but that’s sweet of you.’

“i don’t mind. and i’m sorry if i made you uncomfortable.”

“no, it’s alright. let’s just keep asking questions then, okay?”

he nods.

in one hour, you learn that yuji itadori also likes karaoke, rice bowls, and that he’s just as bad at science than math. ironic. and yuji enjoys getting to know more about you, falling into easy conversation, becoming less of a nervous wreck. the more you speak, the deeper he falls into the trance and he silently thanks gojo for letting him get a closer look because you’re even better than what he could have imagined.

but the period is coming to an end and it’s time for him to carry off the last box of beakers to his side of the room. at least there’s time for another question and it’s his turn to ask.

“what’s your type?”

you place your fingers on your chin as you think for a moment, finding a common trait in every crush for a proper answer.

“i guess my type would be sweet boys. with pretty faces, like you, i guess.”

the response is nonchalant and you don’t think twice about it. maybe you were a little too tired to process how he’d interpret it or maybe a little too tired to filter yourself, but it slips out of your mouth like butter and you’re completely unphased. shameless, even.

meanwhile, the box drops to the ground and like before, every other noise besides his own heartbeat fades into the background, even the sound of shattering glass. heat creeps of his neck into his cheeks until his face is burning, his feet stuck in their place and his palms becoming uncomfortably sweaty. his mouth is wide open, but no words come out.

“yuji! we need to clean this, hurry up!”

your voice brings him out of his thoughts as he realizes what’s been done and immediately snaps back to carefully, but quickly, picking up the shards of glass and placing them in this box. “i-i’m sorry!”

“don’t worry. just leave the box on the counter and we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

maybe you didn’t quite realize what you had said or what effect you had on him during that time in the stockroom because you continue everyday as if nothing happened.

it’s been, what? a little over a three weeks? and sitting next to you still causes his mind to go to odd places, ones with you. he starts to notice little things about you, too. how your tongue peaks out of your mouth when you’re peeling another sheet of bubble wrap off of some glassware, how you only count in even numbers when you take inventory of the containers.

god, you were adorable.

“yuji?”

“yeah?”

“did gojo ever tell you that there’s no cameras in here?”

“no? i thought they had security cameras everywhere.”

“that’s only hallways and classrooms. there’s none of them here. do you know what that means?”

“what?”

his head is already turned in your direction, the perfect opportunity to lean in and catch his lips. it’s small and he’s hesitant at first, but before you know it, your hands tangle in his hair, bringing him closer to you. he tastes like something sweet, like cherries, and his lips are warm. one hand rests on your cheek, his thumb brushing against it endearingly. when he pulls away, both of you are panting for air, the packages long forgotten.

“this sounds bad, but i’m glad that you’re terrible at math.”

“thanks.” he laughs and admires the look of your heated cheeks and swollen lips before pulling you back in for another searing kiss.

sure. being in that room by yourself could be fun, a perfect break with menial tasks lacking human interaction. you were far too tired to be patient with other people. but there was an exception.

© this is a work of @crybabygumi, all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, copy, or repost.

[sweetkingdomstarlight-blog]

plastic smile

Pairings - dark Charles Blackwood x Reader

Word Count - over 4.7k

warnings - oral (f and m receiving), major character manipulation

A/N - huge thanks to @buckyownsmylife @bestofbucky and @supremethunda for beta reading this. Thanks also to @eurynome827 for helping me to choose the gif. The poem in this is by Vinicius de Moraes and might be one of the most beautiful things I've read. As usual this is 18+ only so please don’t interact if you are a minor

It had been a long day at the diner and you only started two hours ago, your usuals were the only thing getting you through it. You lived in a small town where everyone knew everyone so when the red sports car arrived that morning it’s all anyone could talk about.

Charles Blackwood walked into the diner and sat at the counter like he owned the place, his aura was the kind that everyone was drawn to; he was domineering and confident but friendly. You turned his coffee cup over and filled it up with the dark liquid. “Can I get you anything to eat today?” Smiling at him as he looks over the menu, you observe his features; strong jawline, soft curly hair, thick pouty lips and large uncalloused hands.

It takes you a moment to realise he’s asking you for pancakes, you blush and smile sweetly writing his order down and passing it back to the kitchen. Earl, one of your favourite regulars, asks for a refill, beckoning you over. “You be careful with him, don’t go getting any thoughts. He’s a Blackwood,” he tells you in warning.

The Blackwoods were almost an urban myth in the town, you only ever saw Merricat once a week and never her sister since the ‘incident’. The whole town was terrified of them, people always fear what they don’t understand. You however, thought they must be lonely and always tried to make an effort to speak to Merricat when she came in for her drink. Sure, she was a little odd but she was always polite and never forgot to thank you before she left, you always thought some of your other customers could learn a thing or two from her.

Passing Charles his pancakes, you catch your breath when he looks up at you with those big, blue eyes of his and smiles at you, grabbing your hand to ask you to stay. You stood chatting while the diner was emptying, feeling butterflies at how attentive he was, he asked you so many questions about yourself and actually listened to the answers. After finishing his third cup he pays, leaving you a hefty tip, and winks saying he’ll see you again tomorrow.

Watching him drive past in his flashy car, you can’t help but wonder why on earth he spent so much time getting to know you, you come from very different worlds. Wiping the countertop down and finishing up, you grab your bag and shout through to the kitchen, letting them know they’ll see you tomorrow.

Everyone around town seems to be talking about the Blackwoods today, you go to the library and hear Mrs Conners talking on the phone with goodness knows who about how Charles has come back, you then go to the park to sit and read when you hear two mothers gossiping while their children run around. You can’t understand the fuss but nothing ever happens in this tiny town, people talked for weeks when poor Sarah got flipped off her horse and broke her leg.

The next morning went the same as usual, you filled coffee cups, brought eggs and wiped down tables, that was until Charles came back and sat down in the same seat as the day before. He smiled at you and you held your fingers up to let him know you’d be right there, he grabbed a newspaper and read patiently refusing a drink from Barbara while he waited for you.

You flipped his cup round and poured him a coffee. “You know she has the same coffee as me,” you teased him, passing him the sugar and pulling your notepad out to take his order.

“Yeah but yours is so much sweeter,” he says, pushing the white crystals away and taking a sip of the bitter drink.

You try not to smile at the strange compliment but fail quite spectacularly when your mouth practically splits your face in half. “I’ll go and order your breakfast Mr Blackwood”.

Turning to add his ticket to the wheel. “It’s Charles.” You look back at him curiously.

“I’m sorry what was that?” You walk back over to him.

“You can call me Charles darling, Mr Blackwood is too formal. That’s my fathers name so please call me Charles.” He stares at you as though he’s staring through your soul, you lean forward and flip the paper over, grabbing your pen and passing it to him.

“I’m stuck on 10 down.” Pointing at the half finished crossword puzzle.

The diner has emptied again and you’re sitting laughing with Charles while you wait for the lunch crowd to show up, he is cute and funny, nothing like the other guys in town, the butterflies never really go away when he’s around you.

After your lunch shift, you grab your book so you can go and read in the park again when you see him across the street, leaning against the car. “Wanna go for a drive?” He opens the passenger door and gestures for you to take a seat, you don’t even think about it before skipping over and climbing in.

“So darling, tell me where you want to go,” he asks, grabbing your hand and kissing the back of it. You almost melt into the seat, not able to speak for a moment before clearing your throat and pointing him in the direction of the beach on the outskirts of town. You talk for hours, you tell him about how your parents both died a few years ago, how you’re trying to save up enough money to move to the city and how you’re trying to write a book.

He’s such a good listener, you feel like you’ve talked for hours about yourself, which is refreshing because usually you’re the one people talk to. You could charge an hourly rate in that diner, listening to people’s troubles. He smiles that big beautiful smile at you and leans in to kiss you, it’s soft but demanding, grabbing the back of your head to deepen it, you moan into his mouth as he pushes his tongue in and strokes the top of your mouth.

Pulling back and rubbing his nose against yours, he looks down at you. “You’re so beautiful, I could just keep you forever.” Blushing at the cute compliment, you hide your face in the crook of his neck. He gives you a moment before tipping your chin up with two fingers and staring into your eyes. “I can’t believe one little compliment makes you so shy, you should be told everyday how precious you are my little dove.”

Dropping you back off at the diner for your evening shift, he waits for you to get through the door before waving goodbye and driving away. You float around on cloud nine for the whole shift and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by your boss, who has watched everything from the moment Charles first walked into the diner.

Calling you into his office, he asks you to take a seat. “Look, your private life is none of my business but please just be careful with him, he’s not what he seems. The whole Blackwood family is bad news.” You nod and smile at the elderly man who has always looked after you since your parents passed away. You respect him but he doesn’t know Charles very well, if everyone took the time to understand him better they’d see what a sweet person he was.

The end of your shift comes quickly and once again he waits across the street, leaning against his car and smiling at you. “Need a ride home?” You walk across to him and throw your arms around his neck. “Oh, someone is happy to see me,” he chuckles and kisses the top of your head.

Directing him to your house, he drives with one arm wrapped around your shoulder, running his fingers over your neck gently, setting your whole body on fire. Such a soft, gentle touch and you’re already absolutely desperate for him. Pulling up to the front of your little cottage, he switches the engine off and pulls your face up for another deep, soul clenching kiss. Leaning back you look at him bashfully. “Would you like to come in for a coffee?” He nods and kisses your forehead softly before telling you to stay put, running around the side of the car, he opens the door and holds out his hand to help you out.

You show him around before going to the kitchen and making coffee, taking out your best mugs, most of your kitchen stuff comes from the diner, and grabbing some snacks. You’re just leaning up to pick something out of the cabinet when you feel him pressed up against your back, he grabs the packet you were reaching for and sets it down on the counter. “It’s almost like I’m made to be here, looking after my little dove,” he whispers in your ear before planting soft kisses down your neck.

You breathe out softly as he takes his time finding all of your sensitive spots before turning you and holding your head in his big hands and desperately kissing you. Grabbing your ass, he picks you up and sits you on the counter. “Can I touch you?” He smiles as you nod quickly, moving your skirt up slowly, teasing you. You’re practically begging him by the time he pulls your ruined underwear down, he looks at them and sniffs the wet patch smirking at your embarrassment. “Looks like someone is needy”.

Shutting your eyes, you’ve never felt so absolutely mortified before, but he grabs your chin. “Look at me.” You slowly stare at his face as he grabs your hand and puts it on his hard cock. “Don’t be embarrassed, I want you just as much.” Holding your panties up he smirks. “These are mine now though.” Pushing them into his back pocket he pulls you closer to the edge of the counter and kisses around your thighs, tracing a line closer and closer to your wet folds.

You’ve read about this before but no man has ever done it to you and you’d never ask. His tongue is so firm and warm, he knows exactly what to do with it and you feel a new sensation slowly building inside you. He sucks on your clit and pushes what feels like two fingers into your tight wet hole, angling them up, setting your whole body on fire. You moan out loud and grab his thick hair, holding him right in place as you explode, moaning out his name, your voice echoing around your small kitchen.

Pulling your skirt back down to cover you up, he licks his lips and sucks his fingers clean while you catch your breath. “I’ve never tasted anything better before.” Your cheeks warm up again and are about to look away when he softly grabs your face, running his thumb over your lips and jawline. “You are so precious, don’t let anyone tell you any different. I’m going to go now, you need some sleep. I’ll come by in the morning and drive you to work”. You see him out and get cleaned up, pulling the blankets up, you don’t need to read to help yourself fall asleep tonight. You still feel like you’re floating.

You and Charles have been inseparable for the last month, he pretty much lived at your place so you could see more of each other. Every morning he’d wake you up with gentle kisses and touches that set your body on fire, he was so attentive driving you to work and taking your books back to the library when they were due, sitting in the diner doing the crossword puzzle while you work.

It was the best month of your life, so that weekend, when he got down on one knee to propose, you didn’t hesitate in saying yes, sliding his grandma's ring onto your finger, you made love that night and he made you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

The next day, you wake up and see a white dress hanging from your wardrobe door, confused you go downstairs to find Charles and see him preparing breakfast for you. Eggs, coffee, orange juice and a flower in a glass just for you, walking up behind him you wrap your arms around his waist and kiss the freckle between his shoulder blades. “Is all this for me?” He turns around in your arms and kisses the top of your head.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up yet, I wanted to surprise my beautiful fiancé.” You kiss his lips and smile running back up the stairs and jumping into bed.

Following you up a few minutes later, he places the tray over your lap. “I have a proposal for you”. You slowly drink the bitter coffee and try not to let your disgust show on your face, he’s clearly never made coffee before but somehow that makes him even cuter to you, now you get to look after him forever.

“Let's go down to the courthouse and get married today, I don’t want to wait another minute to make you mine forever.” It was too soon, you know that, but the look on his face was so cute, you didn't want to hurt his feelings so you agreed, almost crying at the look of happiness on his face. “I found this dress in your closet, it's perfect, you’ll look like my own personal angel.” That was it, that's all it took, your own personal kaleidoscope of butterflies flew around your body. You were so happy you could almost cry.

After breakfast and a little bit of fun, he ran out to get a haircut and grab a few things for the ceremony. You got dressed and pinned your hair up in a simple style. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you felt sad that you didn’t have any family to be with you, you didn’t really have any friends either but you did have Charles and honestly that's all you wanted. Writing down a poem you wanted to say to him after your vows, you tucked it into the hidden pocket on the side of your dress and smiled when you heard the car pull up.

Charles walked in and looked at you like you hung the stars in your soft cotton dress, he passed a small hand tied bouquet of pink roses to you, smiling at how happy you were. “I got us an appointment with the judge, can you be ready in 15 minutes?” You looked in the mirror and nodded, picking up a lipstick to match your bouquet, you swiped it on and went to find your future husband.

An hour later you had said your vows, Charles was smiling so wide when you recited yours, squeezing your hand when you said honour and obey. The judge looked at you and you pulled out the poem, dropping Charles’ hands for a moment before you began;

I know that I’ll love you

My whole life through, I know that I’ll love you

At every farewell I will love you

With desperation I know I’ll love you.

And every verse i write will be my chance to say

I know that i'll love, love you my whole life through.

I know I’m going to cry,

Whenever you’re not here I’m going to cry.

But each time you return will make up for

The loss I felt when you weren’t at my side.

I know I’ll have to bear

A never ending feeling of despair

While waiting for this chance to be with you,

With you my whole life through

A tear rolled down your cheek and Charles wiped it away with his thumb. The judge pronounced you husband and wife and you kissed, his tongue softly caressing yours before he rubbed his nose across yours, your own secret love language.

Climbing into his car, Charles looks over at you smiling. “Shall we go to the diner now so you can quit?” Turning your whole body to look at him, he smiles that big grin that makes you melt. “I’m your husband now, I’ll take care of everything and you will take care of me and our children. I can't wait until you’re swollen with our children,” he says while rubbing your stomach. “You want that, don’t you my little dove? You want to honour and obey me.” Nodding, you turn back and look out the window at the passing scenery.

He stops outside the diner. “You’ve got ten minutes to grab your shit, don’t take all day.” Your stomach drops at the tone in his voice, you can’t think of what you’ve done to upset him but you want your happy and loving Charles back. Gathering your things, your boss tells you he’ll always have a space for you and not to be a stranger, he watches as you cross the street and climb into the car.

You slide up to him like you usually do but he pushes you away. “I’m driving, sit over there” the rejection stings but it makes sense he needs to be safe especially when driving. You sit and play with the roses he got you earlier, sniffing them and smiling at the sweet gesture, in no time at all you’re back at the cottage and he storms off into the house without even waiting for you. Your stomach drops, you must have upset him but you can’t think how or when, you walk into your house and call out for him wanting to apologise and fix whatever happened.

He’s in the bedroom sitting on the bed waiting for you “hey there little dove, come over here, it’s our wedding night don’t you want to make your husband happy?” Nodding you walk over to him and move to kiss him but he pushes you back and opens his legs “kneel down for me” pushing your shoulder down with force your knees hit the floor and you wince at the sharp pain. Undoing his belt and pulling his cock out he gently grabs your hair and pulls you over “make me feel good, be a good wife for me” you nod, licking and kissing his length before sucking the tip into your mouth.

He moans out and the fist in your hair tightens as he pushes you further down, choking you and bringing tears to your eyes. You slap his thighs to get him to ease up but he thrusts up into your mouth even more and groans out before spilling down your throat. Pushing your head back you stumble backwards and hit the floor “mmmm well done” he says lifting you up and sitting you in his lap. “How about you go and make us some dinner and I’ll clean up your mess in here?” He says as he kisses your neck, nibbling on the spot that he knows makes you putty in his hands, you stand up and he slaps your ass making you jump “make something nice for me and fix your hair it's a mess”

A few hours later you’re sitting reading on the sofa when the phone rings, Charles jumps up to grab it and grins a kind of smile you’ve never seen before. Staring at him as he sits back down he looks over at you and smiles “Constance has invited us over for dinner, she must have heard our happy news. It's all coming together my little dove, I’m going to be so rich I won’t have to talk to anyone in the family ever again and people will respect me all across the city”. You look at him confused “what do you mean? You’ll be rich?” But he just ignores your questions and reads the paper.

You wake up the next morning and find a dress hanging up waiting for you, sliding your feet into your slippers you go downstairs to find Charles sitting waiting at the dining table “finally you’re awake, I’ve waited for hours for you. I’m absolutely starving” grabbing the eggs and bread you look at him sitting reading his newspaper, he hadn’t even made himself a coffee. “I need you to look nice for Constance, we need to make a good first impression” you nod your head and give him breakfast trying to kiss him on the cheek but he pulls away.

On the way to Blackwood manor you’ve already been told to be on your best behaviour and you feel tense, sensing your feeling Charles pulls you close and hugs you like he used to, kissing your head and squeezing your shoulders “I’m sorry darling I just want them to love you as much as I do, I didn’t mean to make you nervous” you relax into his side and smile feeling the little flutters in your stomach again.

Constance and Merricat welcome you into their home and congratulate you on your recent wedding “I’m sorry you weren’t there, we were just so excited to tie the knot” Charles says hugging you tight and smiling at his cousins. Merricat pulls you into the garden while Charles and Constance catch up “why aren’t you at the diner anymore?” She whispers, hoping Charles doesn’t hear her, you smile at her knowing she likes her routine “I’m sorry, Charles wants to take care of me so I don’t have to work anymore. We’ll be starting a family soon so I won’t have time for anything else” that’s not what she wants to hear so she storms into the house and barges past Charles while you call after her.

You help Constance prepare lunch and try to get to know her better but she seems to be wary of you, probably because of Merricats reaction earlier. “Charles can you open the wine for the table please” you ask, passing him the corkscrew and biting your lip when he winks at you and blows a kiss. “You two seem to be enamoured with each other” Constance observes as you smile to yourself, grabbing the plate of vegetables “Thankyou, we love each other very much, neither of us wanted to wait too long before making it official”. She nods her head and smiles “I wish we could have met before you married, I want to get to know my new cousin. Merricat speaks so fondly of you” she says as you both walk into the dining area

Merricat comes back for lunch sitting at the opposite end of the table from you all, sneering at everything Charles said. You could see he was getting more and more annoyed with her and you tried to diffuse it before something bad happened by constantly interjecting and getting her talking. Dessert is served and you all sit discussing the weather, which is the safest subject between you all, you’ve discovered, when Charles suddenly changes the subject. “So Constance you sent me a letter saying that I was entitled to some of the family money” you all look at him in shock but he doesn’t seem to care.

“Yes but there were some conditions Charles” she says softly trying not to make a scene. Exhaling a loud breath through his nose he starts “I needed a wife” he nods at you, your face burning with rage as you start to put the clues together. He continues “I need a home, I have that now. So where’s my money” you stare at him with tears in your eyes, before excusing yourself and going to the bathroom.

You take deep breaths to not let your panic take over. Trying to focus your mind on something you grip the edge of the sink and don’t hear him enter, until he leans over your body growling in your ear “don’t you dare fuck this up for me and I’ll make it worth your while”. Staring at each other in the mirror for a moment, the only way out of this is if you nod in agreement and follow him back to the table.

Merricat jumps up and sits by your side gripping your hand “are you ok?” You turn and smile at her nodding your head “I’m fine thankyou I just needed a little air” you take a sip of your wine and turn back to Charles glaring at him but he just smirks “I brought a duffel bag we can fill with my share, we can do it right now get it over and done with”.

Agreeing with him Constance takes him to the safe, leaving you and Merricat alone “you should leave him, he’s just using you” she says quickly and quietly. Shaking your head at her “now Merricat it’s not like that, he loves me he just shows it differently that’s all. He wants to start a family with me” you fake a smile and play with the ring on your left hand.

Once he has his money, Charles quickly makes excuses to leave, hurrying you out of the door with a hamper of food from the pantry, you wave at the sisters and smile as he drives away. Not attempting to get closer to him you sit in silence for the rest of the journey. Getting out before he’s even stopped the engine once you pull up at the cottage, slamming the door in his face and marching up to the bedroom to change.

He walks in a few moments later and picks you up pushing you against the wall, trapping you “listen to me, I needed a wife and you were an easy target. You fluttered your eyelashes the moment you set eyes on me, I knew I could get you exactly where I needed you, now I’m rich and I don’t need you anymore but I am willing to give you a couple of months wages to tide you over but you have to be a good fucking wife until I can get things sorted back home” you smile and nod at him “ok, that seems fair how long will you be here?” Raising a brow at how quickly you agree he contemplates his answer “about a week, maybe more” nodding again you push him back gently and move away from him “I’ll set up the guest bedroom for you, I would prefer it if you would sleep in there”.

He takes a deep breath and leaves the room watching you as he goes, as if he expects you to do something silly behind his back. He has no idea what’s about to happen and you’d almost feel sorry for him if it wasn’t for the fact that he’s a shitty person who deserves everything that's coming to him.

The next few days you play it cool, you want him to be relaxed around you and not raise any suspicion. You cook and clean and play the dutiful wife in all areas but the bedroom, not that he doesn’t try everyday, kissing your neck, rubbing your shoulders while you cook, even whispering filthy things in your ear like he used to but you always say no and turn him down.

Wednesday rolls around, nothing exciting ever happens on a Wednesday. Charles goes for his afternoon nap leaving you downstairs reading your book, you wait 20 minutes before hopping to action. Running to the pantry where he’s kept his duffel bag you quickly unzip it and check it’s all still there, satisfied he hasn’t moved anything you grab it and throw it in his car. Running back to the cupboard under the stairs you grab your suitcase, slip the note out of your book and place it on the end table next to his wallet.

Climbing into his car you start the engine and wait a moment to see if he wakes up, watching the window until you see him, there he is, his face burning with rage as he spots you. You blow him a kiss and speed off, laughing to yourself that you managed to fuck him over once and for all.

He runs downstairs hoping to catch up with you and screams when you’ve already gone, walking back into the house he spots the note you left him “Dear Charles, you were an easy target. Have a nice life”

[infinitebells]

the act (s. moran)

sebastian moran doesn’t know how to love. incessant pressure from his father to “do better” erased any kind of bond he could have formed with him. his platoon was murdered in front of his eyes, and when he woke up the realization that he was dead too wiped away any chance at love.

sebastian moran prides himself on his ability to bed women (and men if he so chooses) at the snap of a finger. taunts and mocks come at the expense of his actions, but why should he care? he’s always been the butt of the joke while working with the moriarty family. it’s not like they’re going out and picking up people left and right. they don’t have the ability to do so. the colonel claims it’s a god given gift, but fred knows better than to buy into the defense mechanism that is moran’s sexual habits.

sebastian moran doesn’t care for anyone. sure, he’ll give his life to keep william alive, but that’s simply out of pure obligation. he’s well aware that his own like is expendable. why should he spend time trying to convince himself otherwise?

sebastian moran is a defensive, brash, sexual man who does not need anyone to stay alive. that is, until he meets you.

•••

when he first sees you, it’s across the street in town. you’re arguing with a vendor, claiming the fruit you’re trying to purchase is much too expensive for the meager salary of a maid working for some self-centered noble. it’s not like the vendor will cave on their price, but you hope they’ll remember the interaction for the next time someone can’t buy any of their produce. you’re two seconds from walking away until a tall (very handsome) man slides next to you, paying for the fruit in full. he offers you a cocky smirk, but you know better than to buy into the fact that some strange man is buying the entirety of your produce just for the hell of it.

meanwhile, the colonel is trying his very hardest to not blush like a maniac. because in reality, the suave act that he puts on for the men and women swooning over him in bars and sleazy alleyways is just that. an act. so when he realizes you’re absolutely nothing like the people he puts the act on for, he’s stumped. he’s intrigued by your soft eyes, the slight downward curve of your lips as you frown at him, and the way your fingers fiddle with the thin gold chain hanging delicately off your neck.

“there’s no need for such a beautiful person to frown and mar their face. i’m simply being polite,” he’s well aware his comment strikes a bone in you, but he’s thoroughly surprised at your remark.

“i’m beautiful regardless of the face i’m making. only some people can truly appreciate such beauty,” you say with confidence, straightening your back and staring up at him (you’re just now made aware of how tall he is). his smirk fades into a childlike grin, and you come to appreciate how he almost looks like a young boy smiling widely in a candy shop. but you know better. the hard lines of his face and the small scar peaking out from beneath his buttoned shirt indicate that the man’s mind is far older than you realized. his dark eyes reflect pure joy at your challenge, but you can still detect the faint traces of panic. you’re confused as to why such a confident looking man would experience panic when talking to you. you won’t know why he’s panicked around you until much later.

“i suppose you’ll have to teach me how to appreciate your beauty then,” he hopes he maintains the same confident tone he spoke with before, but with the way you’re looking at him he’s positive you see right through him.

“you can only see true beauty once you’ve seen it in yourself. i’d suggest dropping the act, it makes it much easier to appreciate yourself if you’re true to who you are,” you finish, turning away from him and walking away. the vendor looks between you and moran, but moran’s eyes focus solely on you. he’s sure that the next time he sees you he’ll fall even farther than he already has.

•••

the second time he sees you, you’re picking up a brand new tailored suit for the nobleman you work for. you’re very clearly tired, the bags under your eyes a dark purple, but sebastian moran is still in awe of your raw beauty. he doesn’t even try to put up his usual front when he walks in line next to you, head turned down.

“if you’re having trouble with such a heavy bag, i could help you carry it,” he tries hard to keep the bubbling feeling of bashfulness out of his voice, but your small giggles prove that you’ve already detected it. when you look up at him, eyes shining with amusement and mouth wide in a breathtaking smile, he thanks every deity in existence for bringing you to him.

“i see you’ve learned to at least drop your act around me. i’m impressed, i didn’t know men like you could learn to do it so quickly,” you admit, turning back to the heavy package in your hands. at that, his face turns down into a confused frown.

“what do you mean men like me?” he’s curious, wanting to know how you see him.

“men who so clearly put up a charming front in order to seduce others when in reality it’s simply a defense mechanism to hide their insecurities,” you say it as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. sebastian on the other hand takes a moment to process your words before scoffing indignantly.

“and what do you think i’m insecure about?” he glares down at you, trying to keep the anger in his voice. it’s difficult for him to do so when you look up at him with pure mischief in your eyes.

“that would probably be a third date kind of conversation. how about we start with date number one tonight at the bar near the vendor we first met at. 8 o’clock sharp,” you say it with ease, and he’s taken aback by your brazen words.

“but i’ve never been on a date,” he blurts out without thinking, looking down as his cheeks flush a pale red. sure, he’s met people at bars, but it never escalated past the one night they shared between sheets. you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make your heart beat a little faster at his obvious embarrassment.

“i’m sure you’ll do just fine colonel moran. i look forward to tonight!” you call out, turning left at the intersection. it takes him a second to register that you just said his name, and he never said it to you in the first place, much less his military rank.

“how do you know who i am?” his voice is loud enough to catch the attention of a few noble women who giggle and stare at him. he pays no attention to them. he only watches you as you turn around to smile coyly at him.

“you’re not the only one with connections,” you say before disappearing into the crowd. it’s a simple sentence, but the implication has his head spinning dangerously fast. he’s ecstatic to see you again.

•••

the third time he sees you, it’s not at the bar. it’s in the basement of your nobleman’s house, where he had you locked up five days ago. your clothing is practically ripped to shreds, blood seeping out of angry red cuts on your arms and legs. you almost look more dead than the noble upstairs. the only tell tale sign that you’re still alive is the shallow rise of your chest with every labored breath. you barely stir when he carefully cradles you in his arms, rushing you out of the house and back to the manor.

when louis opens the door to find a frantic moran and a near-dead maid in his arms, he lets him by without a word. he knows better than to question the colonel when he looks as panicked as he did. louis helps him bandage you up without a word, washing away dried blood and cleaning old wounds as moran carefully wraps bandages around the bigger cuts. william, fred, and albert return back to the mansion all together, watching moran in awe.

“colonel, who is this?” william finally speaks up as the two men finish bandaging up your still unconscious form.

“a maid for that dead noble,” his answer is short, curt. he doesn’t speak again as he carries you bridal style out of the kitchen and into his bedroom, letting you rest. he’ll explain everything once you’re awake, but for now, he’s content with watching you sleep. as fred stares quietly from the doorway, he’s well aware that sebastian moran has never cared for anyone in his life. but with you, there’s clearly an exception.

•••

he sees you everyday after that, keeping a silent tally in his head. he’d never admit that to you though, knowing he’d never hear the end of it.

he learned your name the day you woke up, your raspy voice still ringing clearly in his head. the first time he heard your name, he had to stop a blush from spreading across his face. a beautiful name for a beautiful person.

“so colonel, are we ever going to make up that bar date? i was really looking forward to it you know,” your soft voice pulls him out of his head, staring at you from across the couch. you’re wearing his jacket, claiming it was cold in the house since winter was coming. you both knew that was a lie, that william always had measures in place to keep the house warm. yet, neither of you said a word about it.

“you want our first date to be in a bar? why can’t i take you out on a proper date?” his question is genuine, and the exasperated look on his face makes it very evident. but you couldn’t care less.

“yes i would like it to be in a bar. i’m sure that’s where you put your act on the most. it would make sense that that’s where you start to drop it as well,” you say nonchalantly. the sentence is loaded, and he can see the piercing gaze you send his way as you speak. the knot in his throat grows, and for the first time in years, sebastian moran feels nervous. downright anxious.

“no pressure colonel, i can see the cogs in your head spinning wildly. i just want to see who you really are, not the panty dropper the other maids used to fantasize about while working,” you can’t help but giggle at your own words, and the silliness of it all forces a laugh out of moran. you’ve never seen him laugh before, but it’s the most beautiful sight in the world.

•••

the seventh time he sees you, you’re dressed in nicer clothes than usual, a glass of whiskey in your hand as you giggle over another story moran’s told you that night. both of you are breathless, laughing over the story about how one time albert tried sneaking a girl into the manor, but everyone was awake and awkwardly watched as he escorted her into his bedroom. the bar incites lively conversation, patrons bumping into you two as you stand at the wooden countertop.

“i thought albert was a gentleman!” you can’t get the sentence out without giggling once more, leaning forward a bit.

“apparently he’s not as much of a gentleman as we thought he was,” moran responds, a bright smile painting his face. he looks absolutely gorgeous like this, cheeks flushed and smile so wide you could fit a coat hanger in his mouth. once your laughter dies down, both of you sigh, taking sips from your respective drinks. you’re the first one to break the silence, smiling warmly at the colonel.

“i think i could come to like this more accurate version of you colonel,” you say with sincerity. his smile grows impossibly wider at that, a heavier blush accompanying it.

“excuse me mr. moran? i was wondering if maybe you’d like to join me upstairs?” a high pitched, almost whiney voice sounds to the left of you. a woman, probably a few years older than you, bats her eyelashes seductively at the colonel. his blush fades instantly, and his smile turns sharper. you watch as his eyes glaze over with their usual cockiness, turning to face her and whispering what you can only assume are sweet nothings in her ear.

“i think i’ll be taking my leave, i seem to only be interrupting something here,” you say dryly, setting your glass down on the bar and walking away from the pair. you can feel moran’s eyes on you, but it doesn’t matter as you push your way through the crowd. the doors fly open with the force of your push, and it catches the attention of almost everyone in the bar. not that you care. all that matters is getting away from the sight of the shell of sebastian moran and the woman who was so clearly was eye fucking him right in front of you. you don’t realize your hands are shaking until you feel a larger pair envelope your own and they stop trembling. moran’s eyes are wide, trained on you. you’re positive if you look up they’ll simply take your breath away.

“why’d you leave so suddenly?” his voice is steady, but you know better. you were always terrible at reading people up until you met sebastian moran.

“i’d rather not be abandoned in a bar while you went off with some woman, so i figured i’d save myself the trouble and just leave,” you keep your voice even, eyes still on the ground. that is until his fingers lift your chin up to meet his face, and you come face to face with the softest smile you’ve ever seen on his face. it should be illegal the way he’s looking at you.

“i was telling her i was on a date with you, and that she should think twice before coming up to a man who’s clearly with someone else,” he says softly, fingers still on your chin. embarrassment washes over you as you tug your hands out of his grasp and bury your face in them. he chuckles from in front of you, and before you process what’s going on, your world is tilted sideways. the yelp that escapes you is completely involuntary, and when you open your eyes you realize you’re in sebastian moran’s arms, and he’s carrying you back towards the manor.

“why are you carrying me?” your hands wring together, desperately trying to calm yourself down before you pass out from sheer shock and humiliation.

“i heard jealousy makes people do irrational things, so i figured i’d just take you home before you could do any damage,” he speaks with confidence, but it’s not an act this time. and the teasing smirk he shoots you is genuine. so you bury your head in his chest, hands fisting his jacket.

“i’m not jealous,” you speak boldly, but it sounds muffled in his jacket.

“sure you aren’t princess, sure you aren’t,” his laughs are deep, and you whine in protest, the alcohol warming your senses.

“shut up,” you grumble, and you’re only met with more laughs.

“make me sweetheart,” his voice is right next to your ear now, breath tickling you. so you do.

the seventh time he sees you, you kiss him for the first time. you grab him by surprise, hands removing themselves from his jacket to hold his face close to yours as you push your lips onto his. your eyes are squeezed shut, and your face burns with shame as you pull away. it takes all of your self control to not kiss him again with the way he’s gazing down at you, eyes wide, lips slightly swollen from the force of your kiss, and face painted a pretty pink. you bury your face back into his chest, hands finding purchase in his jacket once again.

“keep walking,” your voice is quiet, almost scared to break the silence. moran doesn’t trust his voice at the moment, so he quietly walks back to the manor, grip on your body tightening marginally. the only thing that runs through his head is how soft your lips were against his, and how warm your hands were on his face. he prays to every god that he’ll have the chance to kiss you again.

•••

the fifteenth time he sees you, he’s beyond annoyed. you had deftly avoided him since kissing him, but now he had your cornered in your own room.

“are we just going to ignore the fact that you kissed me the other day and then completely ignored me for an entire week?” his voice is stern, commanding. any other day you’d be fighting a blush at how sexy he sounds like that, but now you’re beyond terrified.

“well that was the plan,” you hope your sarcasm is well received. judging by the way sebastian’s eyes harden and he crosses his arms across his chest, it is most definitely not well received.

“if that was the plan i would’ve appreciated a heads up you know,” his voice is somehow deeper than before.

“well i was kind of drunk so i wasn’t thinking you know,” you stumble over your words, fingers finding your thin golden chain and tugging harshly at it to fight the anxiety bubbling up in your stomach.

“so it was a mistake then?” he’s closer to you now, inches away from your trembling body. you don’t know how to answer the question, not knowing if even you knew the answer. sebastian takes your silence as your answer, turning to walk back out of the room. in an ungodly moment of clarity, your only solution is to scream a rushed ‘wait!’ and promptly jump onto his back, your arms wrapping around his neck as your ankles hook around his waist. your head is tucked into the crook of his neck, and he just about falls over at the force of you flinging yourself onto him.

“what in god’s name are you doing?” his voice is loud in your ear, and despite his attempts to tug you off of him, you stay wrapped around him.

“getting you to stay!” your line of logic is borderline at best, but that doesn’t matter now.

“what? why?” his hands grip each of your ankles tightly, intending to pry them apart and pull you off of him.

“because it wasn’t a mistake!” you’re consciously aware of the fact that you’re practically yelling in his ear, but it does the trick as his hands stop tugging on your legs. both of you are silent, save for the heavy breaths falling from your mouths.

“get off of me,” he speaks lowly, practically growling. it’s a tone you’ve never heard, and it sends shudders up your spine. you don’t waste a second, nimbly detaching yourself from him and falling to your feet just behind him. you’re positive he’ll walk out and not look back, so when his hands grab your face and he kisses you harshly, you all but pass out on the spot. your hands easily find purchase in his hair, tugging lightly at the roots as he backs you into the wall behind you and pressing his body into yours. his tongue claims every inch of your mouth, hands moving from your face to hold your hips tightly. when he pulls away, both of you gasping for breath, you catch a glimpse of that same soft smile he gave you outside of the bar.

“i thought you were mad at me,” you blurt out, consciously aware of how your hands are still tightly wound in his hair. you’re scared if you let go you may float up and away from him. he laughs lightly, staring down at your wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

“i couldn’t stay mad at you if i tried,” he confesses, forehead resting against yours. it’s calming, comforting.

“why’s that?” you’re still breathless as you stare at him.

“because i don’t think anyone has ever looked through the front i put up and proceed to call me out on it the first time we met,” his answer is blunt, straight forward. you suddenly remember how panicked he seemed when you two first met. the puzzle pieces click together nicely.

•••

the forty seventh time he sees you, sebastian wakes up to see you peering down at him in bed. he’s hyper aware of the fact that he’s only in boxers.

“rise and shine sunshine!” you’re smiling widely, and the sudden shock of waking up to your face jolts him awake.

“jesus christ why would you do that,” he groans out, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palm.

“because you have to do chores today. louis is already annoyed at you, and i’d rather not wake up one day to find you dead because you never did what he asked you,” you say, hands on your hips. he comes to realize how beautiful you look while you stand next to his bed.

“how about you just come join me in bed all day,” he says, reaching out and grabbing your arms. you yelp with the force of being pulled forward and tripping over the end of the bed. you bounce onto the bed, strong arms wrapping tightly around your smaller form. your face grows increasingly warm, hands unconsciously pressed against the firm planes of his chest and head tucked under his chin. you look down on instinct, heart practically jumping out of your chest.

“sebastian! you’re not wearing clothes!” your voice is high and strained. your hands push against his chest, but he keeps you against him, rolling over so that he’s hovering above you with both of your hands intertwined above your head. when you look up, he’s grinning down at you, but it’s completely genuine.

“i have on underwear though. does that count?” he’s teasing, you’re very aware of that.

“that is probably the thinnest piece of clothing you could possibly have on right now. can you please pu-” you’re cut off by his lips on yours. it’s not like his usual kisses that tease you and only rile you up. it’s soft, passionate. he squeezes your hands ever so slightly as he feels you kiss back. everything about it is perfect in spite of his lack of clothes. when he pulls back, your eyes are gleaming in the sunlight pouring through the window, and you have the faintest hint of a smile on your face.

“how about instead, we get you out of all these unnecessary clothes instead,” he offers wiggling his eyebrows at you. neither of you can stop the laughs that follow his words, your eyes crinkling as you’re overcome with a fit of giggles. in the midst of your laughs, you don’t see how sebastian moran stares down at you. you don’t see how his heart beats inexpicably faster. you don’t see how he blushes madly. you don’t see how he’s fallen in love with you.

but it’s okay. because he can’t see the way you’ve fallen for him too.

•••

sebastian moran doesn’t know how to love. his past all but erased any chance for him to form a deep and meaningful connection with anyone. and he’s lived that way for the majority of his adulthood. that is, until the eighty third time he sees you.

he’s woken up to see you trembling in bed beside him, and he knows it’s not from the cold. your shared body heat keeps both of you comfortably warm.

“love? what’s wrong?” it’s still dark outside, probably well into the night. that doesn’t matter as he turns your shaking body to face his, and he sees the gleam of your tears reflecting the pale moonlight filtering through the curtains. he immediately pulls your body impossibly closer to his, smoothing a hand over your hair as you sob quietly into his chest. he waits until you’re calmed down before leaning back to look at your face. his thumb rubs over fresh tears, lips brushing against your forehead as your cries quiet down to occasional sniffles.

“i had a nightmare about the man i used to work for,” you admit, hands trembling between you two. it’s not the first time you’ve had one of these nightmares, but the last time it had happened was weeks ago.

“do you want to talk about it?” his voice is soft, gentle. you’ve come to love how sweet he is, how careful he is of you.

“no. can you just hold me for now?” your eyes are still shining with unshed tears, but he nods and pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist and one around your back. he pushes your head onto his chest, your ear lining up just above his heart. he’s found that hearing his heartbeat helps you calm down after the more severe nightmares. he sighs in relief when he feels your breaths come out more evenly, your stiff body relaxing significantly in his arms.

“feel better princess?” you nod at his question, pulling your head back to shoot him a watery smile.

“thank you sebastian,” your voice still shakes slightly, but it’s considerably better than it was before. 

he tried to seduce men and women in bars until he met you. he never cared for anyone until he met you. sebastian moran didn’t know how to love someone until he met you. and now that he’s met you, he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to live without you. so when he murmurs those three words that he hasn’t said since he was a young child, he feels tears prick the back of his eyes. because if he can make you smile the way you are right now, tears spilling onto your cheeks and a rushed ‘i love you too’ falling from your lips just so that you can kiss him as hard as you can, he’ll gladly tell you he loves you every hour of every day for the rest of his life.

[meimae]

Language Learning Through Immersion: One Year Japanese Update

11/03/2021

I did it, you guys! I’ve successfully reached my very first year of Japanese language immersion! I honestly thought that I would have given up by now, but this really has been a fun and ultimately rewarding endeavor.

Studying the language has been at the back of my mind for years since elementary school, I just never really knew how to go about it before, and I always thought that I could learn it in a classroom setting someday. That someday for me was in two elective courses in university, and while those were fun as well, it did not give me the same gains that I have achieved in this past year.

It’s probably easier to quantify learning a language in a classroom setting, especially when going through a program to earn a language degree. Learning through immersion, however, I had to really consider what my goals should be on my own. Eventually, I stumbled upon an article saying that for an English speaker, Japanese was exceptionally difficult to learn and that at least 2,200 hours must be spent with the language to reach a certain level of proficiency. So I said to myself, “well okay internet, if you say so!”, and set that as my long term goal going forward.

Spoiler Alert: I did not hit that goal in my first year. I am not crazy and will never listen to Japanese in my sleep regardless of what Khatzumoto (the creator of All Japanese All the Time) says. 

I did, however, hit a total 1,226.65 active immersion hours in my first year, so I guess I’m still a bit nuts. That is 874.96 hours of active listening and 351.69 reading hours. I also did 270.59 hours of passive listening, also known as the time in the very beginning of my immersion where I was using Japanese subtitles (therefore not really concentrating on listening alone). That’s a cumulative 1,497.24 hours spent with Japanese. That’s more than halfway towards my goal! 

To further break that down for curious animanga fans out there, that’s 973 episodes from 109 anime, 765 episodes from 33 dramas, 7 movies, and 967 chapters from 107 volumes of manga (21 series). Here’s my anilist and mydramalist to see what I’ve read/watched.

During all this, I was also doing my daily Anki reps and now I have a 530 day SRS streak (includes the time prior starting immersion and only doing RTK and some vocabulary cards) and a total 8,857 sentence cards. I’ve been averaging 406 cards daily (because I’m trying to cure my leeches) and I spend about an hour per day doing reps and learning new cards. I don’t really track my time on Anki, but I do have a set timer that goes off after 1-1:30 hours.

What I haven’t touched upon at all is output. I have not gone out of my way to find a tutor or a language partner. There’s still plenty of input out there to immerse in before I even consider outputting.

Graphs, stats, and more thoughts:

Here's my current card count in my main deck (minus the cards in my new/learning queue and leeches I've been relearning which are in separate decks):

That one day in 2019 where I did not do my cards because I was seriously doubting whether I can actually stick with language learning this time around will forever haunt and inspire me to keep going everyday.

Workflow and Tips

You might be wondering, how do I have a lot of time? I started this whole endeavor in the middle of a pandemic, which eliminated the option of me going to a language school, and a slew of other things I were considering doing last year became impossible (and if anything, very scary to do in a pandemic). All I can say is that, things work out eventually if it is His will, and if I can learn a skill before everything properly settles back down again, then why not? 

I wake up at 5 in the morning everyday to either do my Anki reps or read until the time when I need to get up and I listen to compressed audio throughout the day. The biggest tip is to switch the time you spend watching/reading in your native language to your target language instead. Listen to a podcast during your commute, watch an episode during lunch break, read before going to bed, do your Anki reps in the bathroom if you have to. 

But, if you’re feeling burnt out, there is no reason for you to not take a break! I have been watching a lot of Among Us streams before bed, and I chat with my friends from time to time. Language learning is not a race.

More Stats

Here are a couple of grids of the kanji characters that I have encountered at least once in my immersion and how well I have answered them in my vocabulary/sentence cards.

It's interesting that after almost 9000 words, I have yet to encounter every single character from the Remembering the Kanji 1 (RTK 1) book by James Heisig, which teaches you the most common use characters that are part of the 常用漢字. Which brings me to the question, was writing down every single character being taught in RTK worth it every time it came up in my reviews for the first 3-ish months I was reviewing them? Maybe, maybe not. It certainly removed my anxiety whenever looking at blocks of text in Japanese, but the longer I think about it, the more I feel I should have switched to Recognition RTK earlier. Still, being able to write in proper stroke order is cool I guess, and it also helps me when looking things up in the dictionary.

Here’s the same grid but in JLPT order:

I clearly need to grind those N2 and N1 level cards! Speaking of which, I have apparently almost covered every single character that could possibly appear in the JLPT (except for the N1 which I have only covered half of) in just a year's time. If the JLPT word frequency lists I’m using are accurate, I have about 2,000 words more to go to to cover most vocabulary that could appear in the test. This makes the "10,000 sentences/words to fluency" argument a reasonable milestone to aim for for Japanese learners if said aim is only to pass the test. That said, 10,000 words is just that, a milestone. It's more akin to a comfortable level of comprehension, but not my own concept of fluency which is being able to read with ease, speak articulately, and write comfortably.

READING IMMERSION GRAPHS

My biggest motivation for tracking my stats is for the purpose of seeing whether my reading speed is improving over time. Reading speed is also easier to measure than listening comprehension which is kind of subjective, so I had a lot of fun making these. What I found is that for the first volume or chapter of whatever it is I’m reading, I always take the time to get used to the writing style of the author. My speed really improves whenever I keep reading the same topic over and over again. On the other hand and quite obviously, looking up many new words in a row and trying to parse sentences slows me down.

Manga: Reading Speed Progression per Volume

I clearly love ちはやふる and I am not ashamed to admit it.

I need to start reading longer manga. When I do, I’ll probably split this graph into less than and greater than 20 volumes. Imagine if I start reading something ridiculously long as 名探偵コナン or ワンピース, these graphs will start breaching the bounds of time and space.

Novels: Time Spent Reading per Chapter

#neverforget the time I read chapter six of Norwegian Wood for 9 hours when it took me less than half that time in English RIP. Also, my interest in Kitchen plummeted LOL. Still planning to finish it don’t worry. 

I also need to start branching away from manga and start reading more novels and light novels, too just so I can make more pretty graphs.

Visual Novels: Time Spent Reading and Daily Word Count

Also known as images that clearly show that I’ve already spent several days only reading the prologue of Island. I’m not sweating. 切那 needs to stop using words I don’t know in succession. More thoughts on this VN far into the future.

Thoughts on Immersion

I can’t really say anything else other that that it works for me, and needless to say if you’re considering this method, remember that the SRS is your friend but immersion should be your one true love.

Prior to all this, I couldn’t even read a sample paragraph from Genki without being confused to my very soul. Yes, I know, it’s embarrassing, but that’s the truth. I was way more scared of failing my Japanese classes than my actual thesis for my bachelors degree, I kid you not. I would quite literally spend all my free time in university trying to understand grammar, memorize vocabulary, and answer my workbook exercises with little to no success. 

I tried so hard to get all the grammar “formulas” into my head for 1.5 years and it only brought me more confusion. I’m never going back to traditional classroom study for language learning, but I will still refer to grammar books when I need to, and not because I feel like I need to answer 4783342 different workbook exercises like my life depended on it.

I still can’t believe it, but with immersion this statement is actually true to a point, don’t try shadowing anime/or calling your boss anime language slurs, use your common sense:

study anime to understand Japanese > study Japanese to understand anime 

Future Goals/Plans

2,200 immersion hours was my initial goal, but honestly I feel like that number could be much higher. There’s still a lot of stuff I don’t understand (news, politics, sciences, etc.), so I’ll make attempts to cover more of those things in my immersion. 

I’ll continue reading more, because that’s a natural SRS in itself. Try to read longer manga, more novels, visual novels, and light novels, and maybe news articles. 

I’ll try to mine as much “JLPT vocab” as I can before making any attempts at taking the JLPT. I noticed that a lot of the words I know don’t appear in the JLPT word lists as much, even though they appear a lot in media/daily conversation. 

Continue mining all words I don’t know because all words are useful anyway. There is no such thing as useless words. I never really understood mining only “interesting words” or words that “pop up” in your immersion. As I said in my previous blog post, 美人局 is an interesting word and I certainly caught it being said in my immersion, but in the three languages I know, I wouldn’t know when I would be able to use such a word, as compared to something like ジャガイモ which is a significantly less interesting word, but is certainly useful to know. 

_

I have managed to talk up a storm, but if you have any questions regarding my process or recommendations for new immersion material, please feel free to send an ask/reply to this post. I love hearing about other people’s language learning/immersion journeys. 

See you on my next post!

[chiliiscereal]

Too tall part 2

Raph x tall! Fem! Reader

——-

So here we are again lol I liked writing it so here’s part two!

——-

“Yeah he was a douchebag.” You agreed, tapping the seat nervously. Sure you were glad to have conversation but it didn’t need to be any info dumping. Quickly, you turned the conversation back around to him. “You kept calling yourself a monster earlier. Do you guys get called that a lot?”

You could easily see the nervous expression on his face shift to something more... bitter.

“You could say that.” He grunted.

Immediately you felt bad. It makes sense that he’s get called that. To be honest, the word ran through your head when he and his brother fell from the roof. But to call someone that to their face? That’s cold.

You straightened up, desperate to fix what you’d said. “I personally don’t see it. Well, other than you guys breaking my phone that is.”

He looked up at you with a glare, only for it to melt slightly when he noticed the grin on your face.

“Who knows, maybe that perv was on his way back with a few friends and you guys dropping down was exactly what I needed to get rid of him.” You shrugged, watching his golden eyes intently. Sure you just met him but you needed him to have the right impression, even if you might not see him again.

“Maybe.” Was all he offered.

Well, maybe sitting in the quiet was better. Running your mouth might have the wrong effect.

“Got a pretty good punch.” He commented after a moment of silence. He wasn’t sure what else he should say but he didn’t exactly want the conversation to die... purely because it would be awkward. “You...uh... you box at all?”

You examined the hand he’d previously wrapped, grateful you weren’t the only one talking. “No just had to learn to beat up guys when they messed with my friends. I’d like to in the future though.” You cleared your throat nervously. “Do you? Do you box?”

He nodded. “Yeah, a bit.”

You nodded as well. “Very cool.”

The conversation began to dwindle again so he picked it back up.

“If ya’d like... I could show ya a few moves.” He immediately regretted offering the moment he spoke. He.... he couldn’t help it! What was wrong with him? You’d said a few words he’d never heard before! That was it! And... well, you also cracked a few jokes with him... denied him being a monster... hell you even apologized to him. Apologies weren’t things he got often. “If ya ever in need ‘a course.” He covered himself quickly. “Got lots a spare time an’ a punchin’ bag.”

You blinked in surprise. A giant, mutant, teenage turtle... was offering you boxing lessons?

Raph mentally kicked himself for saying that. “Neva’ mind ya probably got other places to be-.”

“I’d like that.” You sat up a bit. “It’s not everyday that I get offered a boxing lesson by a mutant hero.”

The term ‘mutant hero’ threw him off. He was used to ‘monster’ or simply being referred to as ‘giant turtle’. But ‘mutant hero’? That was a title he could get behind.

“Can’t have ya goin’ around breakin’ the skin on your knuckles again.” He clarified quickly, gaining a bit of confidence back. “An’ I noticed that ya had your thumb in your fist when ya hit the guy. Coulda broken it.”

You snorted. “Yeah I wasn’t exactly thinking about that when he attacked me.”

“Impressive though.” He commented. “Thought we’d have to jump in an’ save ya.”

“Instead you jumped in after I did all the hard work and broke my phone.” You raised an eyebrow jokingly.

He looked down in embarrassment. “Yeah you can blame Mikey for that. Dumbass wanted to make bets about how long it would take for you to take the guy down.”

You flushed a bit at the thought of them watching you take your rage out on the creep. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

He nodded, not really knowing what to say either. He was new to the whole conversation thing. Usually Mikey or Leo carried the conversations.

“Well looks like you’re all good.” He leaned back once he finished wrapping your hands. “Guess you can get your phone and we’ll get outta your hair.”

You stood up, backing up a bit when he did to. Man he really towered over people. “Well, except when I come back for that boxing lesson.”

He was surprised to be honest. You really wanted to come back?

You pointed your finger at him jokingly. “I’m holding you to it. You offered and there’s no backing out now.”

“Yeah... sounds like a plan.”

——

It was a plan indeed.

In fact, it became the plan for almost every afternoon.

You brought over your homework to finish up (with Donnie insisting he could help), chatted a bit with Splinter (he loved having new company), finally got to the boxing lesson (your favorite part), and then played video games with Mikey to cool down.

You had to admit, you were nervous the first few times you came over. They were to. You, of course, cracked many nervous jokes and accidentally made far too many cookies on your first trip back. You were excited and scared! Food was then way to peoples hearts right? They seemed nice and this was a once in a lifetime opportunity to make out of the ordinary friends.

They’d definitely been surprised when you showed up with about 3 tons of chocolate chip cookies but they were teenagers; it was eaten within the hour.

In your opinion it helped you break the ice. It was hard enough to find things in common when they’re completely different species! Cookies had become the common ground.

Being different species wasn’t the only thing. They were HUGE! For once you were the shortest out of everyone in the room.

Well, until you met April.

She’d been talked up so much that you couldn’t wait to meet the girl that helped them save New York.

She barely went to your shoulder.

But you two got along. Sure she was an adult and it was a bit awkward that she was smaller than you, but you managed. In fact you even liked having someone smaller than you around when you were with them. It made you feel more... normal.

“I was a bit awkward the first time I came here to.” She admitted as you two sat on the couch. You two were supposed to be trying to figure out calculus but it was fruitless. “They’re just so... huge!”

You nodded as you erased your work. “Yeah, I’m used to being the tall one. But now it’s like I’m gonna get stepped on!”

“Well you’re pretty tall yourself.” She waved it off. “Does that ever give you any trouble?”

You set down you pencil with a sigh. “A bit. It’s... hard to find a guy that will like all 6 feet and 4 inches of me.”

April shook her head. “Psh. Men. What do they know.”

“Absolutely Nothing.” You grinned. “The only thing they know is that they like small girls.”

“Eh, I can think of a few guys that like tall girls.” She hinted slightly, disappointed when you didn’t seem to notice. “You’d just have to... branch out.”

You shrugged and leaned back on the couch. “I’ve tried that.”

“Maybe you just need a different... angle.” She held up her hands to fully frame your face. “Maybe there’s a reaaaaally tall guy out there for you. Someone who won’t care that you’re 6 foot 4 inches.”

You snorted, wrinkling your nose at her. “Yeah, let me know when a seven foot guy shows up in New York. Preferably, he has to be my age, and my type.”

Just then, Raph walked into the room. “Done chattin’ it up or are ya gonna go for another hour?”

You jumped. “What in the hot tater tots, dude!” You put your hand over your beating chest as if that would calm your heart down. “I get that you’re a ninja but come on! You’re gonna give me a heart attack showing up out of nowhere like that!

“Ya gonna box or what?” He rolled his eyes, mentally facepalming himself.

You weren’t like his brothers.

You weren’t even like him.

He had to be more careful. But he wouldn’t make it obvious of course. Stealth was clearly his thing.

You rolled your eyes right back at him, grateful that he was at a point where he felt he could joke with you. “Can you let my soul return to my body first?”

He frowned, unsure of what that meant. “Uhh... you okay?”

You jumped up off the couch, breath finally caught. “Alright I’m good. I’d rather get another lesson in then have to deal with calculus anymore.” You kicked your notebook a bit.

“You could... I don’t know... get Donnie to help ya with it?” He offered half heartedly.

You shook your head. “Nah, I’d rather do boxing with you.” You patted his arm as you passed him on your way to the training area. “Let’s go!”

His face flushed immediately.

Shit.

April raised an eyebrow from the couch. “Damn. You got it bad don’t you?”

Double shit.

He glared at her as the blush on his face grew hotter. “Shut up. Don’t know what the hell youre talkin’ about.”

She pursed her lips and tried not to laugh. “Of course. Just can’t help but notice that you never offered me any boxing lessons. Strange.”

He turned before he could get anymore embarrassed. “I don’t know what you’re on but you’re dead wrong.” And with that, he left.

———

“So these are your katanas?” You asked leo curiously, holding the weapons as gentle as possible. He’d let you look at them while you waited for Raph to show up. Never did you think he’d let you actually touch the blades.

He did, however, stand cautiously next to you. “Yeah, Master splinter gave them to me. Wanna see a few moves?”

You nodded eagerly. “Maybe when I’m actually good at boxing you can teach me some as well.”

You watched as he swing the blades with ease, talking you through each move and it’s purpose.

“Mikey, I’m NOT using my tech to fit every cheese and meat in the world into one pizza!” Donnie stated firmly, walking in with his younger brother right on his tail.

“Why not?” He begged. “It would be genius! We could offer it to the world! Give it our blessing!”

“The world wouldn’t take it from us.” Donnie rolled his eyes.

“Then we give it to Y/n in our honor!” He gestured to you. “She could give our gift to the world.”

“The world don’t want no gift of ours.” Raph commented, finally walking in.

You perked up immediately, altho you were unsure why.

“That’s why we label it as y/n’s” Mikey protested.

“I’m not gonna argue with you about this!” Donnie brushes past him and you.

“Then just say yes!” Mikey exclaimed, accidentally shouldering you.

Now these guys are pretty big. When they shoulder someone, they really move them out of the way.

And unfortunately, out of the way was closer to where Leo was practicing with his katanas.

“Shit!” You hissed quickly when you realized how close you were.

You’d have been chopped up into finely slice pieces if not for the arms that wrapped around you and moved you away quickly. Your feet left the floor before you could even realize what was going on. All you could feel was your back pressed against something solid and hands at your waist.

“Mikey watch where you’re goin’!” Raph shouted, setting you down gently.

“Sorry bro!” He called over his shoulder.

You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut, trying not to stumble when your feet touched the floor. “Wow, that was a little too close for my liking.”

“Ya good there, short stuff?

At this, your eyes flew open. “Short stuff? Excuse me?”

He saw absolutely no problem with the name. “What?”

You placed your hands at your hips. “Never, in all my years, have I been called short stuff.”

He snorted. “Get used to it. Around here, you ARE short stuff.”

You narrowed your eyes at him as he prepared the boxing gloves. How was he so casual about this?? You were never talked to like that! “If I were in the human world, I’d be treated with respect because I tower over all the underlings.” You attempted to joke to cover up your surprise.

He found your reaction... amusing. You reacted better than he thought you would actually. “Well you’re the only underling here, SHORT STUFF.”

You tensed, so very very VERY unused to nicknames. “Come on, you can’t make an exception for human standards of height?”

You didn’t hate it, you just hated that it caught you off guard. Being off guard was the last thing you wanted.

“Nope.” He tossed you a pair of boxing gloves. “Now let’s get to it.”

———-

Why did that name make you feel so... giddy? You couldn’t help but play that scene over and over in your head as you sat at the lunch table with your friends. Was this how all your friends felt when they got called stuff like that? Was this what you’d been missing out on?

And you’d never been picked up before. Not like all the other girls in your grade had.

It was strange... and you liked it.

“Hey, again, I’m sorry about what happened.” Your friend apologized. “I know it’s been a month already but it’s clearly eating you up!” She took your hand understandingly. “I know that whenever this happens you lock yourself away but I’m here for you.”

You snapped back to the land of the living. “Oh! Actually... I’ve been fine!” It was almost like you hadn’t had time to be sad about what happened when that guy stood you up. Like other stuff took his place in your head.

She frowned at you. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, a smile creeping on to your face. “Positive.”

She gasped suddenly. “Oh my goodness. You met someone didn’t you?!” She shook your arm before you could answer. “Don’t deny it! Who are they? What’s their name??”

You shook her off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But your blushing face said otherwise.

“I don’t believe you.” She pursed her lips. “Can I just have a name? Does he go to our school?”

You snorted. “Dude, I don’t like him. He’s just a friend I’ve been talking to lately. He’s been giving me boxing lessons-.”

“Oh my goodness you two are basically married now.”

“Wait what?”

“Personal lessons? Girl he’s got it bad!”

Her words stuck with you the whole day. Even when you walked into the lair that afternoon. They spun in circles like a loop, playing over and over.

Psh you didn’t have feelings for Raph!

No way.

And he had a bad for you? No. No, your friend just misread the whole situation.

Just friends, as you’d been for the past month or so.

But the moment you walked in and saw him... you weren’t too sure.

He glanced up at you and then back at his phone. “Hey, you’re here early.”

You shrugged, setting your bag down. “Didn’t feel like heading home right away.”

“Donnies in his lab area if you’re gonna do more a’ that math shit.” He offered, eyes not leaving his phone screen.

“Actually I don’t have any homework today.” You started slowly. “And if you’re not busy...” you waited to see if he would catch on. You continued when he didn’t, “then could we skip ahead to the boxing?”

Now he looked up. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

He attempted to cover his reaction. “I mean, yeah I got time I guess.”

“Alright, then let’s get some water and get started?”

“Sounds good to me.”

Mikey, Leo, and master splinter were all in the kitchen.

“Hey didn’t hear ya come in!” Mikey grinned, patting your shoulder.

You jolted at the strength he put behind it, unready.

“Ay watch it.” Raph ordered, guiding you slightly away from Mikey.

It was just that he didn’t want Mikey to hit you too hard. Because... then you’d give up boxing too soon for the day. And then he’d have nothing else to do.

“It’s fine.” You waved him off, flushing a bit as you uncapped your water bottle. “Can I get through guys?”

Unfortunately Leo and Raph had started an arguement about the way Raph handled Mikeys action and now no one was really letting you get to the sink.

“Fine I’ll do it myself.” You tried to go around Raph, and succeeded. He backed away immediately when he saw that you had moved. But getting around Leo and Mikey? Not so successful.

With Leo’s strictness turned to Mikey, the two began arguing.

You tried to dodge them but Mikey took a step back.

“Oh my goodness your brothers aren’t making this easy.” You complained to Raph.

“Tell me about it.” He rolled his eyes. Suddenly.. he got an idea. “C’mon short stuff.” He grabbed you and set you on his shoulders so you wouldn’t get squished by one of his idiot brothers.

“Holy shit!” You squeaked suddenly. Now it was you that towered above everyone else. “Should I get used to you grabbing me randomly or is this only a temporary thing?” You held onto his shell as he shouldered past his brothers.

“Possibly.” He shrugged, “but it’s funnier if ya don’t.”

You hit his shoulder. “So you’re doing this for FUN??”

“That, and you gettin’ hit by Leo or Mikey would be an inconvenience.”

Wow where was all this joking coming from?

“Then I guess I gotta stop reacting.”

————

From then on it was a contest.

He would move you randomly out of the way and you’d do your best not to react.

You never did get used to it but he didn’t need to know that.

He never gave you any warnings either, which didn’t help.

You’d be standing in the tv area and he’d pick you up and move you out of his way, smirking while he walked by if he got a reaction.

You had fun with it though. It was fun... and you enjoyed having something like that in your friendship.

You flopped down on your couch after your hard day at school. Today you had no boxing lesson planned and only a few chapters to read. You WERE planning on relaxing by yourself but...

Mikey sent you a message.

Shreks_love_child: hey are you planning on coming over?

You frowned at it. Didn’t he know you had the day off?

You: I’m just going to relax at home today

Shreks_love_child: could you do that another day and come over? Raph’s in a mood

You: why would me coming over help anything? And why is he in a mood?

Shreks_love_child: no reason. He just doesn’t yell as much when you’re around

That wasn’t true... was it?

With a bit of thought, you responded back.

You: fine I’ll be there in a bit. But you better give me a better explanation when I get there. AND you owe me

“Mom I’m headed to my friends house!” You shouted, slipping on your shoes and heading out there door before she could make you do something like doing the dishes before you left.

You walked down the street, enjoying the scenery.

Why would Raph be in a mood?

And why would you being there make it better?

Well Mikey better have a good reason.

Just as you were about to come upon the sewer lid that lead you to their home, you recognized a person walking your way...

...the same guy that had stood you up.

His eyes widened when he seemed to recognize you to. “Hey, Y/n!” He shouted.

Nope.

Nope nope nope.

You began walking faster, turning the corner and heading towards the lid quickly. You had to act fast. You absolutely did NOT want to get caught face to face with him.

You lowered yourself and placed to too heavy lid over yourself as fast as possible, moments before he turned the corner.

You let out a sigh of relief.

Dumbass. Why has he wanted to talk? He made it clear how he felt and what he thought.

Whatever. You didn’t need to think about him now.

You could already hear the sound of shouting.

“Mikey I told ya not to touch it! It’s not finished and ya coulda broken it!”

You made your way down the ladder and through the tunnels quickly. From the sounds of it, Mikey was close to being murdered.

“I’m sorry! You left it on the counter dude! I didn’t know what it was!”

You rounded the next corner, coming face to face with two defensive turtle boys. Raph held a small object protectively in his hands and his brother backed away.

“That don’t mean ya gotta mess with it!”

“I already apologized bro!”

“Apologies are shit! Ya got pizza sauce all over it!”

You cleared your throat, letting yourself be known.

Both of them turned to you immediately.

Relief washed over mikeys face. “Hey! It’s y/n! Whatcha doin’ here angel cakes?” He rushed over quickly, practically standing behind you to protect himself from his older brother. “Today was your day off! Huh. Well now you’re here, right?”

You rolled your eyes at him, moving your attention to Raph.

His whole demeanor had changed. He no longer looked ready to kill. Instead he stood up straighter and held whatever the object was behind his back. “Why ya here?” He asked with a frown. “Today was the day off.”

You decided to not give Mikey an even harder time than he was having and not rat him out. “Thought maybe I’d just hang out with you guys if that’s okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah I’m cool with it.” He narrowed his eyes at Mikey as if he suspected what he’d done. Unfortunately he couldn’t hurt him in front of you so he turned his attention away from his younger brother.

“Cool cool.” You nodded as well. “Wanna watch a movie or something?” You leaned closer a bit to see what he had in his hands.

“Yeah, just let me go get my... my phone from my room.” He closed his fist over the object and moved aside.

“Whatcha hiding?” You raised a brow at him. “Candy?”

“Not hiding anything.”

You followed him to his room with a smirk. “If it’s candy you gotta share.”

“Nope. Not candy.” His face darkened as he grew embarrassed about the possibility of being caught before it was ready. “Just go wait on the couch.”

You rolled your eyes and held up your hands in surrender. “Fine. But I hope the shame of candy hoarding follows you forever.” You turned on your heel and walked to the couch.

Just as you sat down, your phone buzzed.

Hey, I just wanted to apologize for what happened. Are we good?

The absolute audacity. That guy ignored you for practically five months! And now he was apologizing? And he wasn’t even giving you a good reason??

You wrinkled your nose at the screen as if it were his face.

It was a stupid idea I just wasn’t ready for anything serious

You shut your phone off and tried to swallow the temptation of throwing it at the wall.

You know it’s rude to ignore people right?

The phone hit the brick wall with a thud.

It had an otter box case it was fine.

You took a deep breath and held your face in your hands, elbows resting on your knees.

“You good, short stuff?”

You groaned into your hands. “Just let me die.”

Raph frowned, unsure of what to say. One moment you were excited and bugging him. Now you looked like someone stole your dog.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

You sat up furiously. “Yeah this dipshit guy keeps texting me!” You paced the room, snatching up your phone as you went. “He stood me up the night I first met you guys and now he wants to talk?? And he’s calling me rude for not responding!” You shook your phone angrily. “Either I’m gonna die or he is!”

“The douchebag?” Raph attempted to clarify. “Ya still got his number?”

“I didn’t have time to delete it.” You admitted. “I got so caught up with you guys! And then he tried to talk to me on the way here!” You sat down beside him with a huff. “Fighting crime is your thing right? You think it’s justified if I run to his house and kill him? Would you stop me?”

“Wouldn’t try very hard.” He huffed. “He’s a dipshit. Don’t see what’s right in front a’ him.”

Crap out of room. To be continued!

@sophiedoodles-blog @fanlovedlt

[unlocktxt]

Only at Night | c.sb

choi soobin x reader

genre: fluff

word count: 1.7k

description: you and soobin live two separate lives, and need an escape. a silent agreement to live separate lives as soon as the sun rises.

warnings: none

note: something somewhat short, but sweet!

the clock never seems to stop ticking. the constant rhythm of each second from the clock was ringing through your head. it was never ending.

“just ignore it,” you mumble as your leg starts to bounce from underneath the table.

it was aggravating. you couldn’t focus and it was such a simple essay. you don’t get these easy topics anymore. at this point, you were convinced the question was mocking you.

where do you see yourself in the future?

this question had haunted you ever since highschool. through elementary and junior high... it was all fun and games. things weren’t so fun anymore. there was a constant pressure that you couldn’t ignore anymore. with your good grades, your parents expected that you’d be great as a doctor, but you knew it wasn’t all about the grades.

truth is... you are lost. you spent so long pretending to be someone else, trying to portray your family's ideals... that you lost track of what you enjoyed. so now... now you were stuck. you could only watch in envy as your classmates went on and on about their dream jobs... that were pretty realistic goals. some had known what they’ve wanted to be for their whole life, so why couldn’t you just decide?

without realizing it your shaking legs had become intense, the only thing snapping you out of your mind was the sound of the pencil breaking. your body relaxed after seeing how tense you were. with a deep sigh, you figured the only way to get this off of your chest was to go outside.

pushing yourself away from the desk you grabbed your jacket before rushing out of your room.

straight to the front door. no stopping.

you ignored your parents' attempts to ask where you were going. it didn’t matter anyway... you didn’t have an answer to give. as soon as the door closed you made a run for it. although the reason for this was because you wanted to go to your secret spot in peace, the thrill of running away and defying your parents was thrilling. you couldn’t help but think that this was what it’s like to live.

you heard so many stories about how your parents were basically delinquents. always partying, racing in the night, wrecking things, you name it. yet... because of this, it seems they never let you do anything thrilling. you understood how dangerous it could be and they didn’t want you to learn the lessons that they could just warn you about. as much as you tried to understand their reasoning... it just hurt even more. the point in life is to learn from your own mistakes.

pushing your thoughts away, you had let the wind overwhelm your senses. the chilling air felt amazing with the night sky above you. a smile crept up on your face as your shouting parents could no longer be heard. adrenaline was pumping through your veins and it felt so...exhilarating.

honestly, maybe you should run away from all your problems, it does a load of help. by the time you reached the hill behind a few closed buildings, you were out of breath. the adrenaline had probably worn off because you weren’t feeling as invincible.

your heavy breathing as you headed up the hill didn’t go unnoticed by the boy sitting at the top. he barely had to turn his head to figure that you weren’t a threat.

unlike the boy, you were pretty startled to see him laying there. you’ve never run into him before, so why now? then again you usually didn’t visit this place at night.

hesitated before turning around with your shoulders slouched. ‘i guess i could just go to the park.’

“you don’t have to leave, i was gonna head off soon anyways.” you heard his body shuffle against the grass, indicating his leave. you felt bad for making him leave early.

“no, it’s okay. you can stay... i shouldn’t be out anyway.” you turned to look at the boy just to make sure he wasn’t about to stab you or something along those lines.

when you met his eyes you swore your heart stopped. handsome was an understatement. he chuckled as he pulled his hood over his head and waved goodbye.

“w-wait!” you don’t know what enticed your body to stop him, but you didn’t mind it because it got him to stop walking.

he didn’t respond, allowing his stillness to answer for him. you could practically hear him say “what?”

“i don’t see why we both can’t just sit there. no need for either of us to leave right?” it was still silent causing your face to heat up from the embarrassment. “only if you want to of course.” you shouted... a little too loudly.

he finally turned around to look at you with his hands in his pockets.

“okay... sounds good to me.” he walked back up to the top of the hill to meet you. when he got closer you got a better look at him. his dark hair was covered by his hood, but you could see his soft features. his height didn’t go unnoticed.

after the two of you sat down, you tried minding your own business. the stars in the sky looked amazing and they reminded you of just how small your problems were... even so, they didn’t hurt any less.

“can i ask you something?” you turned your head to look at him, only to realize he was staring at the stars.

“go ahead.” you encouraged before looking back at the bright stars, trying to pick out which one was your favorite.

“why are you out here?” his question brought the silence back.

you debated whether or not to tell him. it’s not like it’s something all that bad, but you didn’t really know him... perhaps that’s the exact reason you should tell him. a stranger can’t spread the news to everyone you know.

“well... i had to get away. i just needed someplace to think without all the expectations...” you looked at him to see if you should continue, from his silence you assumed so, “i feel like i can be myself when i’m alone away from the world i know... away from the people i know. it’s impossible to feel free in a house that feels like a prison, so i thought the best way to think freely was to escape from the things holding me hostage.”

“that’s reason enough...” he finally looked at you instead of the stars. it was as if he was telling you that he acknowledged you as a whole, which was all you needed recently.

“how about you huh?” this time it was your turn to ask the question. it was only fair that he told you his reasoning.

he chuckled once more before looking at the grass, “it looks like we came here for the same reason. it’s an escape. my life tends to be a little upbeat... there’s never really a time to rest. i keep trying to live my life to its fullest at the cost of my future. it’s about time that i get my life on track and the only way i can think about this is when i’m here.”

you watched as he pulled at the grass. what he said... was kind of the life you wished you were living. maybe you could learn from each other... find the balance in the middle.

“fair enough.” you smiled as he met your eyes. at this moment there was a mutual understanding... mutual trust in some random stranger you just met.

the moment shattered right in front of you as soon as you heard your ringtone. you didn’t have to check to know that your parents were calling you.

“you should probably answer that.” he saw your hesitation and figured that it was indeed your parents. you felt as though this perfect moment was slowly deflating... and you were determined to keep it from doing so.

throwing away your hesitation, you committed to ignoring your parents. for once you didn’t think about the consequences and turned off your phone.

“not at all. this is me time right?” you shrugged as you put your phone back, letting your racing heart settle.

“i guess so...” he was silent. stuck in his thoughts. “maybe we could make this a ‘we’ thing. make it our time.” he suggested.

‘a, we thing’ your heart picked up its pace at his words. you wanted to seem confident. you wanted to get to know him better.

“should i know your name before this becomes a we thing?” you asked while attempting to smirk at him. the smirk didn’t seem to work because he fell over in laughter.

“...is it obvious i don’t flirt much?” you ask as you try to laugh it off as well.

he sat back up after taking a deep breath to calm himself. when he looked back at you his eyes were shining in the moonlight while he wore such a beautiful and true smile. “so very obvious, although at least you have the courage.”

“the courage?” you questioned. you’ve never considered yourself to be someone with courage.

“well...” he dragged on, “you did just admit to trying to flirt with me.”

your cheeks flushed immediately. his sly smirk caused you to look away because unlike you, he could, in fact, pull a smirk off.

“it’s soobin. my name’s soobin.”

soobin eh? easygoing and good-natured. fitting. you were just glad he changed the subject.

“well soobin it’s nice to meet you.” you made sure not to look at him again. perhaps you were trying to tease him by playing hard to get... or you were just admiring the beautiful stars.

“what’s your name?” he asked as he tried to subtly scoot closer to you.

“wouldn’t you like to know?” you laughed, “i’ll tell you when this becomes our thing.”

soobin groaned as he fell onto his back to stare at the sky.

“so what exactly is our thing?” you laid beside him trying to pick out the brightest stars to choose from. the stars always seem to act as a distraction.

“two strangers relying on each other in the peaceful night. only during the night, so that we know there’s someone that knows us solely on the absence of everyday life.”

it sounded like a miracle, a fantasy if you will. he’d be the one person that could get to know the real you... the free you, the one without all the expectations.

“that sounds perfect.”

and that’s how it started. never sharing a second glance at each other as soon as the sun would rise. from then on the friendship that blossomed would soon turn into something more.

[misscorn]

Day 5: Roleswap/Formal

This @takaritsuweek prompt inspired me to do something I've been putting off for years: a rewrite of my fic Stalker-Senpai. So, please enjoy the first chapter :D its pretty much the same except third person now lol, we'll see how much I change in the future!

***

It was such a stupid reason to fall in love with someone. 

Onodera Ritsu had been struggling to reach a high up book on a shelf, wobbling slightly on his tiptoes for a few brief moments before Saga Masamune decided to intervene, mostly just because something about watching the underclassman struggle was both sad and annoying. The older teen grabbed the book for Ritsu, handing it over with a blank expression.

Ritsu returned the simple, polite gesture with such a wide and sincere smile that Masamune's heart reached incredible speeds that he didn't know were possible. Why is he looking at me like that? Masamune wondered, shifting from one foot to the other, feeling warm from Ritsu's gaze.

Masamune swallowed hard as Ritsu took the book out of his hands and said an enthusiastic thank you, one that was way too cheerful considering all Masamune had done was reach up and grab something. The older boy couldn't help but to notice Ritsu's cheeks were a little red from what he assumed was embarrassment and Masamune suddenly wished to see that adorable expression every day. 

God, what am I thinking? Adorable? He's a guy, Masamune hoped none of his thoughts were showing on his face. Apparently they weren't since Ritsu gave a quick and polite nod before scampering off. Masamune found his eyes following the underclassman and his feet almost followed as well. Almost. But Masamune somehow managed to hold on to a string of self control. 

All he did was smile and say thank you, why am I acting like such an idiot? I don't even know his name, Masamune silently scolded himself. It was too late, though. Masamune was already on his way to become a hopeless, lovelorn fool.

It didn't take long for Masamune to notice that Ritsu was in the library as often as he was after their minuscule interaction. It was like Ritsu had suddenly appeared and was now here everyday. Not that Masamune was complaining; he found the underclassman's constant presence very comforting. 

He reads a new book almost every day. Either he has a short attention span or a lot of time on his hands, Masamune noted. It was quite difficult to keep up with Ritsu's appetite for literature, though Masamune did his best. I want to read all the books that he reads, Masamune thought as he grabbed a novel Ritsu had recently finished. The older teen was hoping that he could use this as a way to get to know Ritsu better. Masamune was particularly ecstatic to learn from his book-stalking that his Kouhai's name was Onodera Ritsu. 

The two of them always sat at different tables, but Masamune made sure to keep Ritsu in his sights. Masamune loved seeing the brunette's reactions to what he was reading. At times Masamune would hear a small chuckle leave Ritsu or see Ritsu purse his lips in thought or even see Ritsu rub at his eyes insistently to hide the fact that he was tearing up. I want to know what he's reading, Masamune would think desperately before he was able to get his hands on the book, I want to know what makes him smile and laugh, I want to be the one who makes him smile and laugh. Masamune felt positively pathetic with this train of thought, but he couldn't help himself. 

Yes, it was official: Saga Masamune was in love at fifteen years old. He didn't understand how it happened so fast nor did he fully understand why, but he had enough self awareness to realize he was totally whipped for an underclassman who he hadn't even said a single word to. 

That was precisely Masamune's problem; talking with people wasn't exactly his forte and he feared that he would somehow scare Ritsu off if he approached him. Not to mention, this feeling of want, this inexplicable desire to hold someone through the night and into the day, this need of seeing someone's face just to feel at ease, all of it was new to Masamune. It was scary to be so enraptured in someone. It was terrifying to know that someone else had so much power over him, power that Ritsu didn't even know he had. If Masamune confessed his feelings, he'd be freely handing that power over and Masamune didn't know if he was even capable of being vulnerable and trusting like that. 

It didn't help that watching Ritsu from afar suddenly wasn't entertaining enough for the cruel deity laughing at Masamune's hopelessness. What other possible explanation was there for their paths crossing once again? He had peacefully watched Ritsu and stalked his library cards for three years, but now those days were seemingly over.

Masamune was reaching toward a book when a smaller, more delicate hand came into contact with his. Masamune looked over, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of Ritsu. Ritsu was quick to rip his hand away and met Masamune's eyes with an anxious gaze. Ritsu opened his mouth, looking like he was about to apologize for nothing.

"You can take the book, Onodera." Masamune said quickly before he could speak, not enjoying the sight of Ritsu appearing so guilty and worried. He wanted to alleviate the anxieties clear on Ritsu's face, but he seemed to only make it worse.

"How do you know my name?" Came the quiet, nervous response. The book was quickly forgotten by them both. Masamune felt like he was short-circuiting as he wracked his brain for any possible excuse or lie, but his mouth started moving without his permission.

"I love you."

What?

What?

What the hell did I just say?!

There was a pause between the two of them, the air around Masamune feeling as if it were crushing his bones.

"...eh? Eh?!" Ritsu's face flushed a beautiful shade of red, but Masamune didn't have the time to admire it because he was desperately trying to think of a way to prevent Ritsu from sprinting away.

"What I meant to say was-well-would you want to go out with me sometime?" Masamune asked, watching Ritsu's surprised, flustered expression closely. The brunette shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot, as he opened and closed his mouth, grasping at straws for a response.

"Y-Y-You know I-I'm a guy r-right?" Ritsu finally settled on after a few seconds of awkward silence.

Masamune almost wanted to laugh. Out of all the things Ritsu could've said, that was what he decided on? Masamune's lips quirked up ever so slightly in amusement as he started to find it a little easier to breathe.

"Yeah, I'm aware." Masamune replied dryly. "Does it bother you that I'm a guy?" That had been one of the reasons Masamune had been so hesitant to approach. It was possible that Ritsu wasn't even into guys and now maybe the two of them didn't even have a chance of being friends.

"I-no! Not really? I don't-" Ritsu inched closer and closer to retreating, which simply wouldn't do.

"It's alright, Just take a breath, okay? You don't have to say yes." Masamune quickly assured him, though I really, really want him to say yes, Masamune hoped it didn't show. 

"I-I don't even k-know your name..." Ritsu started, seeming to try to find some sort of excuse, perhaps wanting to spare Masamune's feelings instead of outright rejecting him. However, Masamune's heart was stubborn and dead set on Ritsu. He wouldn't be dissuaded easily and not knowing his name was an easy fix. 

"It's Saga. Saga Masamune."

Ritsu nodded slowly, visibly swallowing as he wrung his hands, seeming to be carefully considering his next few words.

"O-O-Okay...I-I'll go out with you...Saga Senpai..."

-

When an upperclassman grabbed a book for Ritsu and handed it over he was grateful for a few seconds, but forgot about the interaction quickly. It had been nothing particularly special after all. If there was anything he did remember from the brief conversation-if one could even call it that-it was that he felt terribly embarrassed for being too short to reach a book. And then a certain name started to pop up everywhere...

Ritsu scanned the shelves for a new read, not looking for anything in particular, just something unfamiliar and fresh. He started to reach for one when a larger hand met his and he instinctively recoiled away from the touch as if it had burned him. He looked over to see an older student that was often slinking around the library, somehow always seeming to have a certain aura of sadness around him.

"You can take the book, Onodera." He told Ritsu quickly, his expression blank and unreadable.

"How do you know my name?" Ritsu asked hesitantly, though he already knew the answer. This is my stalker. Saga Masamune, Ritsu felt nervous now that he was face to face with him. Ritsu had been ignoring the behavior for the longest time, three years in fact, but now his stalker was right in front of him.

Ritsu often liked to reread books that he particularly connected with and it didn't take long for him to realize a certain name kept appearing and reappearing underneath his own.

Saga Masamune.

Ritsu didn't know anything about this 'Saga' person. He was far too shy to ever venture out to try to talk to many people, especially an upperclassman. He was still young and fresh enough to high school to think that upperclassmen were untouchable Gods. Though, after noticing the name he also noticed that a certain upperclassman was constantly in the library: the one that had helped Ritsu grab a book. Ritsu decided he was as good as a suspect as anyone to be his stalker. It wasn't like many other students spent hours upon hours in the school's library. To confirm his suspicion, Ritsu once quietly walked up to his table when he had fallen asleep sitting up and took the opportunity to look in the back of his book. There was his name: Saga Masamune. The upperclassman shifted and Ritsu took that as his que to quickly put the book back down and retreat.

Ritsu tried to ignore it, not understanding Masamune's motives or actions and wondering if perhaps he was looking a little too much into it. That was, until the two had bumped into each other again. 

"I love you." Masamune said.

Ritsu's heart punched the inside of his rib cage before beating erratically in all directions. A confession had been about the last thing he was expecting. 

"...eh? Eh?!" Is all Ritsu could choke out in response with his legs feeling weak yet also prepared to sprint a mile if necessary.

"What I meant to say was-well-would you want to go out with me sometime?" Masamune asked, but Ritsu's confusion didn't cease. 

"Y-Y-You know I-I'm a guy r-right?" That question sounded much dumber out loud than it did in my head, Ritsu thought as he refrained from facepalming. Masamune smirked a bit at his question and Ritsu tried not to frown, feeling like he was being made fun of and this confession had perhaps been a joke of some sort to mess with him.

"Yeah, I'm aware. Does it bother you that I'm a guy?"

Ritsu struggled to swallow as he started to shake his head. "I-no! Not really? I don't-" He wanted to hide behind the bookshelves at this point and forget this entire conversation.

"It's alright, Just take a breath, okay? You don't have to say yes."

"I-I don't even k-know your name..." Ritsu lied, wanting to somehow escape this situation.

"It's Saga. Saga Masamune." He replied smoothly. The upperclassman obviously didn't see their lack of knowledge of one another as an issue and suddenly Ritsu was out of excuses. 

I should say I don't like guys, or that not interested, or that I have a girlfriend, Ritsu thought, but instead he just gulped nervously and nodded slowly.

"O-O-Okay...I-I'll go out with you...Saga Senpai..."

Why did I say that, why did I agree to this, what am I going to do now, oh God, I bet this really is just a joke and he's going to start laughing at me now, if my parents find out about this I'm completely done for-, Ritsu's panicked thoughts continued to race, but stopped once a gentle hand reached up to ruffle his hair. 

And that was how the wonderful, complicated mess of their relationship started. 

[andromeda612]

Renga Fantasy AU

I've seen lost of fantasy Au's with Langa being the prince and Reki either the cute gardener, the adorable captain of the army, or any other common role that will be the prince's love interest... but what about Prince Reki?

I can see it like this:

Joe is the head of the cook and Reki's paternal figure number #1.

Cherry is the first advisor of the royal family and Reki's paternal figure #2.

Shadow is a guard and probably Reki's main bodyguard, he acts like he is annoyed by Reki's too energic and loud personality but in reality he is a big softie and has a weakness for the young and gentle prince, he is Reki's older sibling figure.

Miya is the son of a noble family, probably training for either being court sorcerer or knight, he is Reki's closest friend despite being younger, he sees Reki as his old brother and is very protective of him because in his opinion (and in everybody else's opinion for that matter) the redhead is too nice for his own good and someone needs to take care of him for god's sake! Of course he will deny it for ever and still be the tsundere he is.

Langa can be the son of a merchant and a doctor from another kingdom, after his dad dies his mother decides to go back to her home in the Kyan's kingdom (Okinawa), because of her reputation as a good doctor she gets a job in the palace as court physician. Langa stays with her at the palace and he could be either training for knight, physician or maybe sorcerer too but he hasn't decided yet, or even training for advisor under Cherry's wing. For the time being he just study with Reki.

Now in this au's Prince Langa main trouble is he feeling lonely or incomplete, Reki being the sun he is complement him and his trouble is of course his self confidence, I want to keep it that way even if Reki is the prince now.

So Langa feel not sad anymore but definitely off since his dad died, he used to love traveling with him, try new things, he loved the most all the things he could learn from the items he got to sell, he wanted to be a merchant like him but now he is not sure anymore, that's why that for now he is just studying along with the prince as he decides what he want to do with his life, he is not unhappy but he can't help but feel there is something missing, that's it until he meets the ray of sunshine that is Prince Reki, the royal is gentle and unlike other royal member he has met (due both if his parents jobs) he doesn't treat the rest with superiority, he traits everyone the same, with kindness, a warm and genuine smile, he actually doesn't act like how he was taught princes are supposed to act, he is loud and very energetic, he is polite and all, but he doesn't emanate an aura of someone to be afraid off or someone you feel intimidate with, he makes you feel like you are with a friend, he will talk and talk enthusiastically to no end... unless you show him you were bored, which was not rare to happen, with the prince being too kind and easygoing is was easy for others to forget he was the prince. But Langa could hear him for hours and never get bored, Reki showed him the palace and different places of the kingdom, he show him his drawings, all his crafts, the prince was incredible with smithy, he designed most of the best warriors' armors, as well as some of the innovative artifacts that helped so much in the kingdom, he showed him his passion for his realm and his passion for his hobbies, he was amazing... it's such a shame the prince is not capable to see it himself.

Reki for his part, he is the genius, creative sunshine we know. He is energetic and almost all the people loves him. Almost, because there is still the royal and nobles assholes that think he won't be a proper ruler because of his personality. As well as the people that get fed up with his energy. Those all are the people less liked in the kingdom. Though is really a trouble that the royal ones hold such power, because they really chose violence when it comes to Reki's self confidence. Especially because the most deep root for his insecurities comes from no other than his passed away father.

The king was... not a good man, the kingdom was not in ruins but the people were not happy, his family was not either, he would lash out to his wife and daughters, telling them they were good just to show of, to serve him, he was abusive with this staff on the palace and to his people, but who got the worst treatment was the young prince, since a child Reki was unquiet, loud, energic, totally the opposite to a centered, reserved and serious prince, he was also too kind with everyone no matter how much he told him he was above all the people, but Reki refused to be rude or mean to anyone, the only people that he lashed out to were the rude and cruel royals that abused of their power and were mean to people with no status or power. The king ruled with an iron fist and with stronger severity he tried to rise his heir, but Reki's golden heart was always stronger, however it didn't protected him from the abuse, the hard punishments and the constant reminders of how a failure he was, how he was worthless, how he was a mistake, how easy it would be for him to replace him if not were for the fact he needed a boy of royal blood to be his heir and he had no one, how annoying he was, that there was something wrong with him. And all the people that thought the same as his father had no seconds thoughts to remind him of the same in every. Single. Opportunity.

It was such a relief when the king died from a mysterious illness, and if anyone ever thought about it as a coup from the queen and the royal staff? Well nobody blamed them, but that was just a rumor and they were fine without him anyways.

Indeed, after the king's death the Kingdome went through a prosperity that haven't been seen in years. Despite what the king and his lackyes believed the Queen was actually a very well skilled ruler, she fixed the mess her former husband made and bring a new era to her people, she made new allies, she cleaned the corrupted government and brought new opportunities to the kingdom of Okinawa, the people were happy again. And her son, his ideas for artifacts to make certain tasks easier, his enthusiasm about cultural development, not mention that despite what his father said Reki was really smart, a total pride for his tutors even if his chaotic nature gave them green hairs, also his ideas to improve the army of the Kingdome, his ideas helped a lot to their realm's development. Many people called him the inventor prince.

However there were some royal asses that were not happy with him, there were invertors for that, there were artists, musicians, artisans for the cultural things, a prince shouldn't be look being so friendly and informal to commoners, shouldn't be so loud and idiot.

Not to mention the people that just... were fed up with his chit chat, and okay, they get it, Reki's personality could be overwhelming and even obnoxious to some people, but they needed to be so rude about it? The fact that must of this people were royal visitors didn´t help at all, Reki just felt he was embarrassing his mother and the Kingdome, no matter how many time she and the royal advisor Kaoru told him otherwise, or the fact that those people were usually not good allies at all.

Years of abuse and constantly hearing how a waste you were are hard to heal.

But, the love and support of the people that truly loved him helped Reki a lot, it was a long path but he was getting there. Though, the person that were really close to him, and you know who these persons are, know that sometimes the thoughts gets too loud on Reki's head, but they are there for him, and are happy to see that everyday the sunshine prince is doing better and better.

Well, and then of course the boys met and all of that, they help each other to find what was missing, to discover how much loved and worth they are.

The Queen and the court physician ship them, because this is my fucking au and I say love is love, you are who you are, no labels :)

Kaoru, Kojiro, Miya and Hiromi are definitely fondly exasperate with their mutual pining and just want them to just kiss already and spare their poor souls out of their misery.

About Ad*m... I don't know yet honestly.

In one hand I'm so tempted to make him not existing in this au. On the other hand he could be a major villain, maybe a lord wanting to make coup to the kingdome with Tadashi being a spy loyal to Queen Kyan. And I really want Langa to beat the shit out if him for messing up with his sun, but well, idk.

Any thoughts about this? Feel free to ask! 👀

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hiii!! hope you are well, may i request a super duper fluffy minho x reader where they are both having late night talks about life but minho is not taking reader seriously?? but it ends up to a very cute cuddle session (fluffy please :>) thank you :DD

I made it as fluffy as I could! I hope you like it! 💕

Understanding | Lee Minho

{Stray Kids Masterlist}

Members: Lee Know

Genre: fluff with a pinch of angst

Summary: You want nothing more than to talk to your boyfriend Minho about his emotions, but he won’t take you seriously

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: minor swearing

*reader is gender-neutral

Minho has never been the best with deep conversations. Having the personality that he possesses, he makes it rather hard for people to bring up serious topics with him. His teasing and somewhat impertinent aura always overrides people’s determination to become emotionally vulnerable around him.

Minho wasn’t aware of this fact. He was quite socially dumb sometimes, not being able to see that his friends and those around him can become quite sensitive to his bickering. Everyone knows he can sometimes go too far, it was just part of Minho’s personality. Even then, there would always be someone to tell him to stop, which he never argues with.

After meeting you, his significant other for four months, he knew he had to learn to be more careful with his words, never wanting to hurt your feelings or make you uncomfortable.

He wanted nothing more than for you to be able to become emotionally vulnerable around him. He always knew that serious conversations were not his strong point, but he was willing to try his best for you, in case you were ever in a situation where you want to talk to him about something significant.

You yourself always struggled with opening up to people. Although you loved Minho with your whole heart, his attitude sometimes made it even more of a struggle.

Recently, you’ve been trying to bring more serious topics into your chats with Minho. Things like being anxious about work, feeling overwhelmed from minor things and just overall your true thoughts and emotions. He would definitely convey that he’s trying his best to look after you, talking in a sweet tone and cooing at you, but it seemed a bit too baby like. You wanted to just discuss it with him, not be babied.

He seemed to have taken it as you being upset, when it was more that you wanted to just talk to him about deep subjects. Honestly, you had always wished to hear his honest thoughts on you and why he feels the way he does about you. You wanted your relationship to be a mix of both fun, teasing, laughing moments as well as loving, honest and emotionally affectionate moments. But obviously at that moment both of you were only accustomed to one of those.

You didn’t particularly blame him because you knew your relationship was still quite new. But you knew you had to become more emotionally vulnerable around each other if you wished to stay in a relationship together.

One day, you had had quite a frustrating day. You woke up late, your alarm clock not going off, meaning you had to rush out of the house to get to your university classes, not having time to give Minho a goodbye kiss. Then you were yelled at by your professor, leaving you annoyed and upset. At lunch, it only got worse when you realized you rushed so quickly out of the house you forgot to pack anything to eat.

You came home, soaked from the rain because you didn’t look at the forecast and didn’t take an umbrella, trudged through the door and threw your bag onto the bag hook aggressively. Minho had the day off, having been at dance practice and the recording studio so often during the past few weeks, so you saw him in the kitchen cooking some pasta when you walked through the house.

“Hey Y/N! How was your day?” he asked without looking at you. You didn’t answer and walked up to him briskly, throwing yourself around him and rubbing your face on his upper back. He jolted in surprise. “Woah! Haha, someone’s excited to see me,” he giggled with a cheeky smile on his face.

Although, his smile dropped when he heard small little sobs coming from behind him. He felt you grip his shirt into your fists, pressing your face harder into him.

He turned around and looked at you in worry. He wasn’t sure what to do. In the short time you have been together, he has never seen you cry. He’s seen you shed a tear while watching a sad movie with you, but he would usually tease you for it. Seeing you cry like this made his heart ache.

“Baby,” he cooed. He pulled you into his chest, kissing the top of your head and fiddling with your hair as you sobbed quietly. “Sorry, I’ve just had such a shit day and I wanted a hug,” you mumbled into his shirt.

Minho stayed quiet for a short moment. “Of course,” he said hesitantly. “Anything for you my lil’ muffin.”

Minho tried his best to comfort you for the afternoon. He wanted to treat you like a queen to make up for the stressful day that you’ve had. He was a little bit awkward, patting your head at random moments and wiping your tears with a tissue.

You appreciated the effort he was putting into making you feel better. It made you feel less embarrassed for crying in front of him. You became happier about the ordeal because this was the first time he has really seen a weaker side of you, and he was taking care of you perfectly.

Later that night, you two were getting ready to climb into bed together, feeling tired from both the yucky weather and the frustrating day. You had gained back your happy and cheerful personality, making Minho glad that you were feeling better. You both joked around playfully while brushing your teeth in the bathroom, him pinching your waist making you almost choke.

After you had gotten changed into your pajamas, you clambered into your bed where Minho was already laying, looking at something on his phone.

You crawled up to him and leaned over him on your elbows, looking at his face in curiosity. He glanced at you from his phone and smiled, poking your cheek with his finger. “What do you want?”

You thought for a moment. Maybe this was the time to actually open up a bit. Minho had been taking care of you all afternoon, making you feel so loved and happy. It would be just the icing on the cake if you could have a cute conversation with him before sleeping. It would be a nice break to your usual antics of bantering and teasing every minute of every day.

“What are you staring at?” Minho asked, snapping you out of your daze. You smiled and looked down into his eyes before beginning to talk.

“Minho, where do you see yourself in five years?” you asked, being serious about the question.

Minho giggled and looked back at his phone. “Weird question but okay,” he answered, making you frown. “I’d want to be on an expensive yacht drinking champagne like a king.”

He wasn’t looking at you, so he didn’t see that you didn’t smile to laugh at his response. “No, I mean where do you see yourself with me?” you tried again.

Minho smirked and looked at you mischievously. “I mean, will we still be together in the next five years? I think we would end up tearing each other apart out of annoyance.”

You could tell he was joking, but you thought it was rather cruel to say after the day you’ve had. He was having one of those moments where he goes a little too far with his teasing, but you didn’t have the patience to deal with it that night.

 “You know what? Forget it Minho,” you said coldly. You pulled yourself underneath the duvet and rolled onto the other side of the bed, facing away from him.

Minho felt the harshness in your words, and he realized you weren’t joking. He put his phone down on the bedside table and sat up to talk to you, panicking a little about belittling your feelings.

“Wait baby, I’m sorry. That was probably a bit mean of me.” he said sorrowfully as he shakes your arm to get your attention.

You rolled over and looked at him. “Well yeah it was. I mean we’ve had such a lovely afternoon together and I actually thought you would have a nice chat with me before we sleep considering you were so worried when I came home crying.”

Minho looked into your eyes and brought his hand up to your cheek to stroke it. “I know, I’m sorry Y/N. I shouldn’t have said that, it was insensitive of me,” he mumbled, looking at you with so much love in his eyes.

You laid there for a second, enjoying the feeling of Minho’s warm touch on your skin, feeling comforted already.

“Come here,” you said to him.

Minho laid right next to you and let you wrap your arms around his shoulders in a close hug. He closed his eyes and leant his forehead against yours, his fringe and breath tickling your face.

“I’ll be honest,” he finally spoke up. You opened your eyes to look at him. “I want to stay with you for as long as possible. You make me feel so at home and happy. I would never be able to find someone who matches with me just as well as you do. I wonder everyday how you manage to deal with my teasing and blunt honesty, because I know if it was anyone else, they wouldn’t be able to handle me.”

You tightened your arms around him and chuckled at him. “You’re right, Minho. No one else can handle you and your sly tricks. You’re lucky to have me.”

Minho looks into your eyes and how they were reflecting the moon’s light that shone through the window next to your bed. “I know I am,” he said.

He leaned into you and pressed his lips to yours in a heated kiss. You moved your lips against his slowly, enjoying the moment while it lasted.

Minho wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his body and rubbing your skin lovingly. You felt so loved and safe in his arms, happy that both of you finally had a moment where you showed your true deep feelings.

Finally, you pulled away from his lips and he chased after yours, making you giggle and place a hand against his chest so you could speak. “Thanks Minho, I love you so much,” you admit, rubbing your nose against his playfully. He smiled and looked away from your eyes, flustered.

“Aww is my tough boyfriend flustered by me?” you teased, pinching his waist making him squirm.

“Shut up,” he whined, ticking you back.

You both fell asleep soon after, facing each other and feeling each other’s breaths on your faces. Minho was finally beginning to learn how to be more sensitive and open about his and yours emotions, and he was happy to keep trying his best to be the most amazing boyfriend you could ever have, as long as he got to cuddle and kiss you like that every night.

Author’s Note: I want to clarify that this was not at all written with the intention to bash Minho’s real personality! This is purely for fictional purposes!

I hope you enjoyed anon! I added a bit onto the storyline if that’s okay.

[easily-infatuated23]

At the Ballet (Draco Malfoy x Reader)

a/n: hey! i am a dancer so this was super fun to write. i’ll link the video’s of the variations discussed both here and in the actual story incase you want to watch it ‘in the moment’ also the ending is super cliche but i wasn’t sure how to finish

Y/H/H/C= your hogwarts house color

Dying swan variation

Kirtri Variation

pairing: Draco Malfoy x Dancer!Reader 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: super brief mentions of blood and cancer

summary: Reader is using the Room of Requirement as a dance studio when a certain blonde finds her and watches her dance

I am probably one of the only people in the world who would be unhappy to find out they were a wizard. The day my Hogwarts letter came in I was devastated. As a muggle-born witch, I had lived the first eleven years of my life without any magic or magical knowledge. I also happened to be one of the few lucky people in the world who was born knowing what they wanted to do when they grew up. Ever since I was three years old, all I wanted to do was dance. While all the other kids were playing princess or digging in the sand box, I was twirling around the play ground. When I started my first formal dance lesson at age five, I was hooked. Everyday I diligently went to dance class after school. I would pull on my pink tights and leotard in the car, just to make sure I was ready when class started. While other kids had sleepovers and weekend playdates, I was in the studio working. When I got my first pointe shoes I was over the moon. I could finally look like those beautiful ballerina’s I’d seen on stage. I could just picture myself in the beautiful white tutu, being lifted in the air by a handsome prince. That all changed when I got my letter.

Boarding school meant no after school classes. Boarding school meant no studios. Boarding school meant crushing my career aspirations. I worked very hard once I got to Hogwarts. I threw myself into my school work to try and forget the aching feeling in my body building up from not dancing. I was too embarrassed to bring my leotard and tights to school but I couldn’t bear to leave my pointe shoes at home. The pink satin shoes called to me like a siren does to a sailor. When the common room was empty or when I could sneak into a classroom, I would dance. The cold stone floors wrecked my beautiful satin shoes, but, I couldn’t stop. Every summer I would take multiple classes a day, trying to gain any training I had lost. Even though I was a witch, I had no plans to go into a magical career. It was always dance. Always.

By my third year at Hogwarts I started to give up hope. My training was falling further and further behind my peers. At this rate, I would never be hired by a company. Then, the strangest thing happened. One day, I was walking down an empty corridor when I saw a door appear that I didn’t recognize. When I entered the room, my heart skipped a beat. Inside, I found a perfect replica of my studio from home. There were mirrors on all sides of the room, a stack of barres sitting in a corner, and a piano. How had I never seen this room before! After this discovery, I used this room (which I later learned is known as the Room of Requirement) every single day. One day when I came in, there was a white tutu sitting on the piano, just like the one I had always dreamed of. Although I had good friends at school, I never talked about my intense love for dance. I had made the mistake of telling someone I intended to go into a muggle career after school, and I was laughed at by all who heard. This caused me to keep my love a secrete.

By fourth year, I came to school with all of my leotards and a full lesson plan given to me by my ballet teacher at home. She had even given me a new challenge too. She assigned me a set of four solo variations to learn and perfect, one of which was the ‘Dying Swan’ variation from Swan Lake. Although the ‘Dying Swan’ variation was not the most technically difficult variation of the group, the emotions that needed to be portrayed made it increasingly difficult. The girl, Odette, was transformed into a swan. She was cursed to live as a swan during the day and become human at night. While in human form, she fell in love. The variation is about when she learned that the love of her life had spurned her for another and it was literally killing her. It was this variation I worked the hardest on. Repeating it over and over, sometimes until my feet would bleed.

Today’s rehearsal was different. I had gotten the bad news that my beloved teacher was diagnosed with late stage cancer and that I would probably never get to see her again. Today’s rehearsal was for her. I was no longer dancing the variation as a girl losing her lover, but as a student losing her mentor. It made the emotions of the dance feel more real and intense. I walked into the Room of Requirement and put on my pointe shoes, making sure to do plenty of relevés and warming up properly. Then, it was time.

I put on my white tutu and waved my wand at the small CD player, starting the sorrowful song. I glided across the space, waving my arms as if they were wings. No. Not good enough. I started again. No. My balance was wrong. I started again. This cycle continued until I got so frustrated I cried. Then, I felt it in my soul. I finally started to connect to the character and emotions I was trying so desperately to portray. I took a deep breath and started again. This time, it felt right. I glided across the floor, I held every balance, I truly felt like I did it perfectly. There was no separation between the music and my dancing. It felt like the violin was the dancer and I was the violinist. When the end finally came, I gracefully slid to my knee and draped my arms over my outstretched leg. Before I could congratulate myself on my execution, I heard someone begin to clap. I sat up with a start and turned to face the intruder. A boy with platinum blonde hair begin to saunter over, still clapping slowly. He saw my shocked expression and spoke. “The door was slightly open and I heard music, thought I’d check it out.” he began. “That was…” he paused, as if he was trying to decide on the appropriate word. “…heart-wrenchingly beautiful” he finished. I blushed slightly, secretly hoping it blended in with the color already present on my face from the exertion. “Thank you” I said quickly.

I turned and pressed the stop button on the CD player before the song restarted. “I’m serious, that was incredible” he said again. I gave a quick uncomfortable smile before taking my tutu off. After all, I had other variations to rehearse and I wasn’t going to let some nosy kid stop me. “Thank you for the compliment but would you please leave, I have other things I need to rehearse” I said shortly. “But please don’t tell anyone about this, I don’t need anyone giving me shit about this”. He looked at me, puzzled. “Why would people give you shit about this?” he asked, crossing his arms as a slight scowl formed on his previously awe-struck face. “Because I want to go into a muggle career” I said matter-a-factly. “Oh” he said.

I took a sip from my water bottle and checked my rehearsal notes for which variation I should do next. I looked over at the door, the boy was still standing there. “Are you gonna leave or are you just gonna stand there gawking at me?” I asked. He looked flustered for a moment. “Oh um, can I or well, would you mind if I watched? My uh, my mother took me to the ballet a few times as a kid so I guess its kinda nostalgic” he said honestly. I took a deep breath and exhaled shakily. I hadn’t had an audience in a while. “Fine but you can’t laugh if I mess up” I said. “Deal” he replied.

Next variation on the list, the act 1 finale Kitri variation from Don Quixote. Different from the ‘Dying Swan’ variation this one is filled with fire and joy. I knew I could do this one well and I figured that I should show off since my intruder had decided to stay. The music began and I was on fire. Every jump and turn I did was perfect. Then came the dreaded diagonal. I would have to complete twenty turns on pointe in a perfect diagonal, then end in a balance on one leg. I always would get nervous for this part but I nailed it. After I finished, there came another round of applause, this one more full bodied than the last. “Merlin, that was…just wow” the boy said. I turned to face him a curtsied. “Thank you! It seems like I dance better in front of an audience” I said jokingly. The blonde laughed and looked down at his feet. He pushed him self off of the wall he had been leaning on and walked closer to me.

“I’m Malfoy by the way, Draco Malfoy”. He stuck his hand out. “Well Draco it’s nice to meet you” I said, reaching for his outstretched hand and shaking it. “I’m Y/F/N Y/L/N”. I took a step back and looked at the clock that was positioned above the door. “Well, I’m done for the day, if I don’t stop now I never will and Snape’s potions essay will never get done.” I walked over to my dance bag and plopped down on the floor, beginning the relief-filled but somewhat painful process of taking off my pointe shoes. “Does it hurt?” Draco asked. “Oh yeah like hell, but the longer you do it the sooner your feet go numb to the pain” I replied, placing the shoes into my bag. Next, I stood up and peeled off my pink tights. I had seen a video of a professional ballerina wearing her tights over her leotard and I’d worn mine in just the same way ever since then. Although I wasn’t looking directly at Draco, I could of sworn I saw him blush a bit. I pulled on my skirt and button down shirt, lastly tying my Y/H/H/C tie around my neck. Draco was still standing there, just watching me as I gathered my things. “Are you just gonna keep staring at me or…?” I said, causing him to shake his head slightly as if he was bringing his brain back down to Earth. “I was actually on my way to the library when I found you, are you headed that way” Draco asked. “Yes, I was planning on going to the library to finish this essay after a quick shower” I replied. “We could study together if you want, meet in the library around 8?” he proposed. I looked at the clock, 7:30, I could make that. “Sure” I said, smiling sweetly. “Just don’t sneak up on me if I get there before you” I joked. He chuckled softly. “See you at 8” I said as I walked out of the room. He waved.

It was surprisingly fun working with Draco. We both got the work we needed to done but managed to have some fun conversations as well. He asked me all about dance and my life. I told him quite a bit about myself, more than I had told to most. He cringed when I told him I was muggle-born but I didn’t think much of it. I tried asking him some of the same questions he asked me, but he was much more reserved and closed off in his answers. I didn’t mind, we are all entitled to privacy.

The next few weeks went by like a blur. Draco had started joining me for my daily rehearsals. He would sit in the back of the room and do homework. Sometimes it felt like that homework was to study me and my body but it didn’t bother me. A few times, when he would ask me how it was possible to do certain steps, I would force him to try some. “Bloody hell this is impossible!” he yelled. “How in Merlin’s name do you do this??”. “Draco its fifth position, this is what the seven year olds learn, stop fussing!” I replied, trying to fix his arms in the position. “No no, chin up, stomach in, arms up, straighten your legs, no your arms are dropping again, no don’t look down!” I giggled calling these corrections at him. “I truly don’t know how you do this” he said, laughing along with me. “It took years of hard work and dedication” I replied. “No your focus is down again” I said, reaching out and touching his cheeks. This action brought his gaze straight forward and directly into my eyes. We stayed like that for a moment before I removed my hands and took a few steps back, the tapping of my pointe shoes cutting through the silence like a knife. “There, you got it” I said finally, unconsciously biting my lip. “Run me through that last correction again” he said, taking a few steps towards me. The gap between our bodies was nearly completely closed. He reached out and cupped my cheeks. “It not this,” he said, pointing my face at the ground. “it’s like this” he finished his sentence. He titled my head up and leaned in cautiously. I swallowed hard. “Mhmm” was all that managed to escape my mouth. Just as I thought he was about to kiss me, the bell tower rang 8 o’clock. We both giggled at the tension that had suddenly been released and he lightly bumped his forehead on mine before releasing my cheeks and stepping back. “I have to go, I’m supposed to be tutoring someone at 8” he said with an air of disappointment. “Yeah of course go I’ll see you later” I replied. He picked up his bag and walked toward the door. He was halfway through it when he turned around and flashed me with one last smile before fully exiting. My hand reached up to my face and felt my cheek, as if it was trying to replicate the feeling Draco’s hand. I smiled and shook my head softly. I turned back to the mirrors and walked over to the CD player. I let out a small giggle then pressed play. Now I understood how those heroine’s in the ballet felt when their prince’s gently caressed their cheek, and I was gonna make sure to rehearse that moment again and again.

[wienerbarnes]

Necessary Evil

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (Cheek to Cheek)

Word Count: 1,816

Warnings: nothing crazy, typical canon violence type stuff, special character appearance👀

A/N: so sorry for not posting this like two days ago when i said i was going to🥴 ive had a ton going on and ive been a busy bee but hopefully ill get myself organized for next week :) question for yall! should i keep the friday posting schedule or do thursdays instead bc of fatws on fridays? lmk!

MAIN MASTERLIST | CHEEK TO CHEEK MASTERLIST

It’s been a confusing couple of weeks. You’ve been placed on a temporary leave while you finish your recovery after the last mission.

You’ve been trying to learn as much about your new powers as you can, not really understanding what they are or how they work considering that most of the time they’ve shown themselves it’s been accidental.

Making Bucky drop food, slamming doors shut, sending stuff flying across the room. At this point you’ll tape your hands at your sides if it means you’ll stop making such a mess everywhere.

Everything has been put on halt. You don’t cook, in fear of starting a fire or making a mess in your kitchen, you don’t spar with anyone or workout unless it’s in a closed off and sealed training room used for when the Hulk was at the tower, in fear of hurting people around you, and unfortunately, you haven’t let Bucky be around you much in fear of hurting him.

He tells you that you’re not going to hurt him and that even if you did he wouldn’t take it personally, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. The two of you got into a heated argument a few days ago when he offered to let you use him as a practice dummy for your new powers.

“How dare you suggest something like that to me?!”

“Well, I just meant that -”

“Meant what? How would you feel if I asked you to slap me around like a ragdoll with your metal arm? Make you go Winter Soldier on me?”

“That’s not the same thing, and you know it.”

“Isn’t it though?”

It wasn’t pretty.

It also didn’t help that Bucky was sent on a solo mission recently. He couldn’t tell you much about it, and you didn’t push it, knowing the two of you were still a bit rocky with each other, and knowing that it would only put more stress on you constantly thinking about his mission.

Boy, did you miss him though. You’re glad you put aside your pride to hug and kiss him goodbye, taking in his warmth, his love, his smell, savoring his arms around you and his lips on yours before he left. With the way he held and kissed you, you think he felt the same.

That was two days ago. Alpine has been the one to keep you the most company. She’s gotten big, and it’s a lot more fun to play around with her now. You trail a feather attached to the end of a string around the ground while she tries to pounce after it. A knock at the door doesn’t even pull her attention away from the toy as you let her win and catch it, standing up from your sitting position on the floor.

You open it to reveal Sam in more casual clothes than his regular tactical pants and shirt, and you return the smile he gives you.

“You busy?” He asks.

You look over your shoulder to see Alpine still pawing at the feather on the ground.

“No, I’m not busy, what’s up?”

“Just wanted to hang out, we both got the day off, figured I’d show you the best danishes in New York.”

You’re not sure if Bucky put him up to this or if this is a way to keep you from going batshit being stuck in your room not being able to do anything, but you accept the offer anyway. It’ll be nice to get some air.

“Do you, uhm,” You begin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“What’s up?” Sam asks, the guy from the VA coming out, encouraging you to tell him.

“Do you know if Bucky’s okay? I haven’t heard from him, is all.” You ask, slipping on some shoes and heading back out into the hallway with Sam.

“I mean, I’m sure he’s fine, why wouldn’t he be?”

“Just that I know these solo missions can be anywhere and he could be doing anything, but I still worry. I didn’t know if you knew where he was or anything.”

He doesn’t. He doesn’t know, because Bucky told him Steve asked him for a few favors and he needed some off time for a couple of days. He thought Bucky was in rural New York. There’s no mission. But he supposes he’s not supposed to tell you that.

“Yeah, I don’t know much about it. Fury’s probably the one behind it.” Fury’s in Florida for his niece’s sixth birthday. He doesn’t tell you that either.

Luckily you accept it and enter the elevator to leave the private floor and go to the common area, able to leave out the backway of the tower.

“Avenger in the building, Captain.”

Sam doesn’t understand. Avenger? Who’s even around anymore?

“Uh, huh? Bucky?”

“No, Captain.”

“Clint?”

“No.”

“Who’s here?”

“Underoos.”

Underoos? Where has he heard that? Isn’t that -

The elevator doors open to the common room, a teenage boy stands with his back towards the two of you. His head whips around in typical teenage fashion and your eyebrows shoot up, unaware that the Avengers recruited teenagers.

“Is that a fucking kid?”

“Peter?” Sam asks, clearly surprised at the boy being in front of him. He hasn’t seen him in years. He wasn’t even sure where he was all this time, assuming he was in school, with his Aunt, but now he’s here.

“Sam! And his lady... friend. How are you?!”

“The lady friend has a name.” You chirp.

“What are you doing here?”

You and Sam speak at the same time. Peter addresses you first, “And your name is…?”

“Uh, Agent 51.” You didn’t think that through.

“Weird name, but alright.”

“Peter.” Sam brings his attention back to his question.

“Who is this guy?” You ask, clearly lost on who this person is and how he’s an Avenger.

“This is Spider-Man.” Sam tells you nonchalantly.

“Uh- Sam?!” Peter exclaims.

“What, she works with us, now. She doesn’t have anyone to tell anyway.”

“Sam?!” You elbow him.

“Why are you here, Peter.” Sam asks again.

“Well, you know, I was in school, doing some stuff here and there for Hill and Fury, and I figured I’d stop by.” He smiles.

You and Sam stare in silent confusion.

“Okay, look. I feel… lost. Like I feel like I’ve come to terms with Tony dying and stuff, but, I don’t know...” Peter finally cuts to the point.

You know very little about Spider-Man. You definitely didn’t know he was a kid, but you also didn’t know that he had some sort of a close relationship with Tony Stark. You’re becoming more and more like Bucky everyday; not knowing who any of these people are, not remembering seemingly important events, hell, not even knowing have these things happened because you were under Hydra.

“Peter, we don’t -”

“I’m not asking for help. More so asking if you have anything for me to do, or something.” His smile falls. You’re definitely confused, but you feel for the guy. You remember feeling lost as a teenager, losing the people you looked up to. And that lost feeling landed you in the Marines and the Marines landed you with a terrorist organization. We should help him, you immediately think.

“I’m sorry, man.” Sam offers. He wants to help Peter, as annoying as he finds him. Being a teenager is hard, and being Spider-Man is harder. But, Sam can’t forget that he’s still a kid in school with only his aunt and a few friends around him. He doesn’t want to put a person like that in the immense danger they throw themselves into, even if he knows he can handle it.

“No worries, I’ll be on my way, then.” Peter nervously scratches at his eyebrow.

“Sure you don’t want to stick around here for a bit? I know the Avengers aren’t much of a thing anymore, but, you always got a room here; a place to stay.” Sam tells him, assuming Peter’s on the verge of having a sort of coming-of-age moment.

“No, no, I need to be with May. I’ll see if I can, uh, maybe stop by more often. Maybe. If that’s alright. Nice to meet you, uh, Miss 51!” He bids farewell before walking away awkwardly, leaving Sam with a sort of sullen look on his face and you still very confused.

“What was that whole thing about?” You finally break the silence as you two make your way towards the private garage elevators.

“I’ll tell you over danishes.”

Bucky plants his fist into the HYDRA soldier’s face for the sixth time, the sound of metal hitting flesh making a slushy sound with little clanks, signifying teeth hitting the floor.

“This is the last time I ask you before I kill you. Where is Bychkov, Morozov, and that fuck with metal arms?” He pants beneath the black mask and goggles, an outfit he hadn’t dawned in so long.

Your list is heavy in his pocket, he thinks about the names he’s already crossed off and few he has left. He’s not going to stop until he finds the handlers that captured you and the supposed soldier with metal arms that shot you, details you only mentioned to him once after a nightmare that he refused to ever forget.

“They… went back… to base… in Kiev. Just… north of it.” He struggles out.

One step closer. Bucky stands taller, letting the man slump on the ground, and he reaches for the knife at his thigh.

“Wait! I - I told you… where they went!”

“I was going to kill you whether you told me or not, you Nazi fuck.” Is all he says before he slashes the knife, ending the bastard’s life.

Leaving the man’s home, he rounds a corner into the night and replaces his knife, taking out a pen in one of his many pockets as well as your list.

He crosses off Antonov, looking down at the four remaining names, two of which were the men that did this to you.

He takes a breath, the layers of leather and kevlar straining over his muscles as he sighs. He never thought he’d be hunting people down like this, Nazi or not. He never thought he’d have this black mask and these goggles over his eyes. But he also never thought HYDRA would touch the love of his life the way they did; never thought they’d put you in that chair.

So, now, he’s only getting revenge. It’s the least he can do after this organization has stolen his life, kept him from seeing his family forever, took his arm, gave him PTSD, gave his girlfriend PTSD and injected her with who knows what only to put her in that goddamn chair.

While he never thought he’d be in this position, they asked for it, and he’s not sorry.

On to the next name.