#and the shock wave that followed caused him to pass out bc of the sudden tension to his head intermingled with the blood loss and poison

[lotus-pear]

regret

[metalbuckaroo]

Hi! So from the prompt list, could you do the 44th dialogue prompt where reader and roommate!Bucky are talking and bucky just keeps falling in love with her more and more but reader is oblivious to his flirting bc she doesn't think anybody wants her and while they are talking and bonding one evening they fall into the category of relationships as the topic of the conversation (sorry if it doesn't make sense, english isn't my first language)

Bad Night

Summary: After a bad date, Bucky offers his help.

Warnings: Some angst, lil fluffy, pretty cheesy, mentions of sex,

AU: Roommate!Bucky x reader

AN: After 3 days I'm finally letting this go. Not very sure how this got so long, but part of me wants to make a part 2 if that would interest anyone.

Prompt from this list. Requests are always open, reblogs and feedback are appreciated.

MASTERLIST

"Hey, dollface, can you look at something for me?" You heard Bucky call, his footsteps getting closer to your room. "If it has to do with your testicles, then no. I will not."

He stopped in your doorway, eyes wide as he looked you over. "Oh, wow. Where you going? Got a hot date you didn't tell me about?" He teased, walking further into the room.

"Yeah, hopefully this one actually goes decent. Now what do you need?"

He turned so his back was to you and pulled his shirt off. "This place on my scar is all itchy. Does it look irritated?"

Until that day you had came home early from work to Bucky standing in the kitchen shirtless. He had expected you to immediately look at the cluster of scar tissue on his shoulder and never see him the same. Instead, you had just greeted him like any other day; a warm smile that made his heart melt before blabbering about your day and asking him about his.

This hadn't been the first time he'd asked for you to inspect a spot on his jagged scar. Although for the first month he'd make it a point to cover it, not wanting to freak you out.

That's when he got more comfortable, walking around without a shirt or just in a towel after a shower. When your smile started making his heart melt even more than before.

You touched your fingers to a small red blotch on the spot where dark metal met skin and he shivered slightly, goosebumps forming on his skin. "Yeah, it is a little. Try putting lotion on it."

He sighed and turned to face you, looking down at your dress. "Who is this guy? Do I know him?" He said cocking an eyebrow at you. "I tried that stupid dating app you suggested." You exhaled, shrugging your shoulders.

Narrowing his eyes at you, he shook his head. "You're not going." He said folding his arms across his chest. You raised your eyebrows and copied his actions. "And whys that?"

"Because, I should've never told you to try it. Dating apps are full of weird people." He muttered, going over to your dresser. "Murderers, stalkers, creepy cat people."

He opened the drawer and pulled out some clothes to stuff into your hands. "Which is why, you're staying in with me." He smiled, sparkling white teeth flashing at you.

Rolling your eyes you put the clothes back in their spots. "If I don't go on a decent date for once, I'm going to end up a creepy cat person. Besides, not all cat people are creepy. Mrs. Lawrey is really nice."

"She's an exception." He nodded, following you towards your bedroom door and down the hall. "If it makes you feel better, I'll text you if he starts acting creepy."

He huffed a breath and grabbed your shoulders, spinning you around to look at him. "Fine, but, that means I get to come rescue my girl if he does."

You felt a slight blush creep your neck and moved away from him to slip your shoes on. "You're just saying that, because I pay half of the bills." You said, opening the front door.

"And you cook pretty good. Now, go on. Be safe." He teased, swatting at your backside as you walked out into the hallway. "Try not to break anything, please." You told him on your way down the hallway.

"Not making a promise I might break."

_____

The date had went horrible, one slip up and he said a few choice words to you before calling a cab to leave.

You swiped your fingertips under your eyes to erase any sign of crying before you got to your front door, wanting to avoid Bucky at all costs.

"Hey, dollface. Back already?" He said from the living room. "Yeah..." You mumbled back, trying to make a break for your bedroom to change.

Bucky could tell something was wrong by how you weren't rambling about everything that happened. "Oh, no you don't. Get back in here."

You exhaled and turned back around to look at him. "What, James?" You sighed, walking closer to where he was sat in a recliner. "What'd he do?" He said, narrowing his eyes at you. "Nothing, I'm fine."

"You're crying, I wanna know why. What'd he do?" You rolled your eyes at his stern voice and shook your head. "Just didn't go very well." You said, sucking in a deep breath.

They never did. As soon as you let one little fact slip, they'd high tail. You would've been better off staying home like Bucky had suggested.

Bucky's voice broke you from your self pity. "C'mere." His hand reached out to grab your wrist and tug you closer. "I'm not sitting on your lap, that's weird."

He scrunched his nose up and shook his head. "Doesn't have to be. Stop being a brat and let me comfort you."

Once you were sat on his right thigh with your side against him, he wrapped his arms around you and leaned his head back against the chair. "This should be our new bonding method. Feels like we're getting closer by the second."

You teetered your head back and forth, pressing your lips into a thin line. "Maybe because, I'm on your lap. That's pretty close."

A soft pat to your thigh and he was looking directly at you, blue eyes dancing back and forth in curiosity.

He wanted to know what made you so sad and torn up about one stupid date. "Tell me about it?"

You took another deep breath and he lifted his head so you could slip your arm behind his neck. "Every single time I go on a date, they mention sex. As soon as I tell them I'm a virgin they're gone. Tonight's was just extra rude about it."

His eyebrows creased together, hand moving to your knee. "You're a virgin? How?"

You looked at the ceiling, tapping a finger to your chin as if you were thinking. "Hm, could be from never having sex." You said the most obvious answer.

"No, I mean-" he huffed a laugh and gestured a hand over you. "Look at you."

You pinched his side and he narrowed his eyes at you. "I thought we told each other everything?" He mumbled, his lips turning down into a frown.

"No, James. You tell me everything. I don't tell you near as much." You said patting his chest, the chain of his dog tags cool on your palm. "You don't have to, I know a lot just by paying attention." He said, giving a nonchalant shrug.

"Now, explain, miss goody-two-shoes. Why hasn't anyone popped your cherry?"

You looked to your lap and pursed your lips. "When I was younger I never felt the need to lose it. Now, I can't seem to find a guy who doesn't want to have sex on the first date. I'm not losing it to someone I barely know."

When Bucky stayed silent you looked at him, he was chewing on the inside of his cheek and you could see the gears turning as he looked at you.

He wanted to offer his help, but didn't want to scare you away. That was the whole reason he hadn't said how he felt over the past couple of months.

Although, he wasn't sure how you never noticed. How you hadn't noticed the lingering touches and looks, everything he'd say.

You had waved it off as mindless flirting because that's how he played it off; as him being a flirt without any serious intentions.

"You're being quiet and it's weird. Say something." You said flicking the tip of his nose. "I'll do it. If you wanna lose it, I'll do it. I know a lot about you."

"Buck-" you shook your head, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying. "You can't be serious." You said breathing a soft laugh.

He nodded and his hand on your knee moved to the back of your thigh.

You felt heat rush to your cheeks as you looked at him, his strong features completely serious. "I'm gonna go to bed. Its late."

Just like Bucky thought would happen, he was scaring you away. "Wait- no, come back." He said as you pulled out of his grip and stood.

You shook your head and cleared your throat. "Nope, not coming back. I know you don't mean it because... You're Bucky and you say shit like that all the time, so..." You inhaled deeply and started towards the hallway. "I'm gonna go get ready for bed."

Bucky stood from the chair and followed after you. "Sugar, wait." He grabbed your wrist gently and tugged you towards him, nearly crashing you into his chest.

In a sudden movement, his hands held your cheeks and his lips engulfed yours, the abrupt motion causing you to stumble a step back; your hands flying up to grip the sides of his shirt.

The kiss was slow and deep, the taste of his minty toothpast flooding your tastebuds when he slipped his tongue pass your lips.

He pulled away after a moment, looking at your shocked expression. "I mean it."

[forsworned]

can i request a Rengoku x fem or male reader where he becomes completely smitten with the reader after they always make him snacks (and then some). mayybe he confesses in the end, idkk✨

[♥] love confession. {renguko kyoujurou x reader}

Genre: Fluff, Fluff and more Fluff!!

Categories: F/M

Relationships: Renguko Kyoujurou/Reader

Word count: 1,839

a/n: ahhhh!! i'm so sorry this took me so long to make. i hate writing when i'm not in the mood bc it signifiicantly depletes the quality of my writing and that's just no fair for you guys, i hope ypu enjoy this :) requests are open!

To say that Kyoujurou simply enjoyed snacks was an understatement. He was a snack fiend. He had a bad habit of carrying snacks anywhere and everywhere. Compliments to Mitsuri for making him pick it up.

[Name] would watch him pull them out of his sleeves. His uniform pockets and occasionally from in between the buttons of uniform. On multiple occasions, he’d sneak some mini taiyaki and other times senbei. When she was around him and she’d catch him, he laugh at himself and offer her some, which of course she would never deny. Kyoujurou was too cute to deny in her eyes.

Until one day, she had noticed that he hadn’t been snacking all day. Not once, not even a nibble and even that was enough to spark some suspicion on her end.

[Name] pondered all the times she had seen him that day and each time she had remembered, he seemed a little sad. Was it because he ran out of them?

Just then she had conjured up an idea. What if I made a bunch of his favorite snacks? That would definitely cheer him up!

Honestly, [Name] would do anything to see him smile and she would stop at nothing to get it. And slowly, but surely, that is exactly what she did.

It became a daily routine to bring Kyoujurou any snack she knew he would enjoy. And of course, he would accept every time because he simply could not get enough of [Name's] homemade snacks. Every time that he would ask what she would add to her food, she would insist that the secret ingredient was "love".

Which would obviously fly over his head (god bless his heart) because Kyoujurou was so oblivious it hurt. But like [Name] had firmly stated with all her heart. She wouldn't stop at nothing to get what she wanted. And what she wanted was Kyoujurou. So like any corny, cliche storyline, [Name] had told Kyoujurou that she planned a sort of taste testing for an upcoming cooking competition she had.

But like the good spirited man Kyoujurou was, he happily agreed. He would do anything to help his fellow comrades out. [Name] could jump for joy, but she held it in and instead gave him a time to meet up her place. Kyoujurou smiled his usual smile before bowing.

"See you then!"

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

By this time, she had already been in the kitchen for over two hours now whipping up a bunch of Kyoujurou's favorite snacks. The oven dinged signaling that her sweet potatoes were done. She pulled them out and set them down on the counter. [Name] was delighted with herself because not only was she done, but she had successfully prepared everything. The sweet potatoes were roasted to perfection and she set the scallion butter she also made on the side.

Now she had sakura mochi, senbei and takoyai. She wanted to keep it both sweet and savory so that he could enjoy both equally. All that was left was to surprise him.

[Name] pulled her pocket watch out of her breast pocket and checked the time.

He should be here any minute.

Her heart was pounding in her chest the more she thought about it. Somehow she had mustered up the courage to ask Kyoujurou to come to her humble abode--alone. And (mostly) happily obliged. There was still the lingering sadness about him that made her heart ache.

"[Name]?' She heard his voice call out and her anxiety peaked as she rushed to the door with a scarf in her hand.

"Yes, stay right there, please!"

And immediately he halted all actions and words. [Name] opened her door to see the fiery blonde smiling brightly at her and her breath caught in her throat.

"Hello, [Name]." His expression now slightly surprised, mouth in an "o" shape as he points to her cheek. "What's this?"

[Name's] cheeks dusted with a pink hue as she swiped her face and looked at her finger to see flour on it. She seemed alarmed which was enough to cause him to laugh at her.

"You wanted to show me something?" His voice soft now. And it took every once of [Name] to look him in the eyes and when she did, she could tell the same sadness was clouding his gaze.

She gulped and nodded her head as she pulled put the scarf. "You gotta put this on first."

Kyoujurou's cheeks visibly pinkened but he agreed and bent his head down as [Name] gently wrapped the makeshift blindfold around his eyes. Her fingers brushing against his skin was enough to send a shiver down his spine as she felt the wisps of her hair tickle her skin. She tightened the knot and Kyoujurou felt a lump form in his throat.

Her hands now in his as she tugged him along to her kitchen. Neither of them spoke as she led them there. Just two hearts thumping silently against their chests, unbeknownst to one another.

"You can take it off now." Her voice barely a whisper, but he heard quite well.

Her unraveled the loose knot and his eyes were now fully uncovered. Kyoujurou felt his heart stammer a bit , while his fiery orbs widened in blissful surprise.

"Surprise!" She cheered and she jumped with arms wide.

Kyoujurou did not move, just simply stood there speechless. His eyes carefully scanned the counter that was filled with his favorite treats and then to [Name]. He didn't know how to feel in that moment. He didn't know another human being was capable of making him feel a million and one emotions all at once. No one had ever done him such a courtesy and it made his heart swell.

His silence caused [Name] to twiddle her fingers nervously awaiting a response.

"Do you not like it?" Her voice was a squeak now. He gulped as he blinked back the tears stinging at his eyes. And then he did something that [Name] least expected. He had enveloped her in his warmth and squeezed her with such tenderness that she had never felt before.

"Thank you, [Name]." He breathed out. His chin sat on her shoulder blade as he closed his eyes and a small tear slipped out. He quickly wiped it away before pulling back and looking at [Name] who was staring at him with broadened [e/c] hues.

"No one has ever done me the honor of blessing me with such a thoughtful surprise." His smile was bright and cheery as ever. [Name] felt like her heart was going to implode.

"I'm in love with you."

She just blurted it out. Not intentionally. It just kind of came out. So abruptly in fact, that Kyoujurou immediately started to burn up. No one had ever confessed to him (false, many have confessed but he always took it as admiration and would pat them on the shoulder and smile completely oblivious).

"Eh?"

Was all that came out of his mouth. He didn't know [Name] liked him like that?! Sure she was super pretty, but Kyoujurou always thought she would take a liking to Giyuu since she was always poking at him trying to get him to talk. It's not that he didn't find her attractive, he very much did. But, again, it just absolutely threw him off because in his mind she could have any man she desired. But him? She liked, no--loved him?

"Ah! I mean--I--"

[Name] was at an unfortunate loss for words and she couldn't do anything to take it back, so she just braced herself for the consequences.

"Y-you're--" He pointed to her. "in love with me?" He then pointed to himself in shock. And [Name] thought she was going to pass out.

"Uh, yes. I am in love with you, Kyoujurou. I hope that this doesn't ruin our friendship..."

[Name] felt defeated at this point. She really couldn't tell if he felt embarrassed because he didn't return her feelings or not. Kyoujurou finally swallowed the lump in his throat. He noticed that [Name] was on edge and obviously needed an answer and none of his antsiness.

"I didn't think I was your type. I am extremely flattered." He deadpanned as he bowed respectfully in most erect manner.

[Name] felt an embarrassed sweat drop on the back of her head form.

"Y-you are?"

"Yes! I would find it most desirable if we formed an intimate bond!"

"Uh, Kyoujurou."

"Yes!"

"You can stop bowing now."

"Right!"

Kyoujurou was met with [Name's] glimmering eyes and flushed face and he saw her for more than his fellow comrade.

"Do you mean that." She hesitantly stepped forward. He courageously embraced her face with the rough palms of his hands against her smooth skin.

"Yes, I do. It would be an honor to have you by my side. If you would let me, of course." His voice smooth and even as he spoke. An illusion Kyoujurou had to conjure up to steady his beating heart.

"The honor is mine."

[Name's] face leaned forward and he felt her breath delicately aerating against his skin. And that's when his illusion broke because Kyoujurou had turned just as fiery red as the hair on his head and turned away in agitation.

[Name] was confused by his sudden humiliation. Did her breath smell bad?

"M-my apologies. I just got a little apprehensive when you got close." He gulped dryly as he peeped at her expression, but [Name] just burst into laughter.

She didn't think she had the capability of turning Kyoujurou into a flustered mess, nevertheless here he was doing just that. Oh, how the tables have turned.

"We don't need to rush anything, Kyo." She held a hand over mouth to hide her delight.

His blush intensified at the nickname. How much more was she going to embarrass him?!

She grabbed his hand and led him to the table where she was going to set everything up.

"Let's eat."

He followed her lead and sat adjacent from her and instantly his mouth watered as she set the dishes in front of them

"Thank you, again, [Name]. Really."

[Name] waved a hand as if to reassure him it was nothing as she took a chunk out of her sakura mochi. He quietly took a bite from his sweet potatoes and he was filled immediately with the void he had developed from years of coldness.

Soft, supple lips found themselves on his cheek and he felt his face flare up mid bite. [Name's] melodious laugh filled the room as she confidently took a bite from his chopsticks. Oh yes, the tables have indeed turned.

"Thank you for coming." She flirted as she made her fingers walk on his lap. His eyes followed them as they got closer to his upper thigh and he wondered where the shy [Name] had went. Another fit of laughter bubbled out of her throat as she faltered to the tatami mat.

"You are so cute, Kyo!"

It was only the beginning of [Name] driving Kyoujurou insane.

[duuhrayliegh]

watch your six - part five

pairing: eventual bucky x reader (they’re together in the next chapter i stg)

warnings: language (several f bombs bc i feel like bucky would be liberal w them), sam and bucky being little shits, bad nicknames, 

word count: just under 2500

a/n: long awaited but it’s finally here! i’m super proud of this one :) i hope y’all like it also this was the first time i’ve written something like this so constructive criticism please. i hope i did the characters justice 

p.s.: my requests are still open babes! i’m working on the next part of this series and also possibly continuing TFCL ;) my tag lists are still open as well

please like and reblog if you enjoyed the story 

xoxo ray

series m.list

ray’s m.list

***********************************

The tension in the room was palpable. “What do you mean you know her, Buck?” Steve questioned. Bucky’s eyes were flitting around the room, landing on each face of bewilderment. He honestly didn’t know what he meant but that, it kind of just came out. Where the fuck did that come from? Who is this woman?

“Uh, hello? What’s going on in that cyborg brain of yours?” Sam interjected quickly, to which he received a sharp glare from both Bucky and Steve. Sam shrugged his shoulders and a quiet snort was heard from across the room.

“He’s got a point, Terminator.” Tony said as he plopped himself into one of the rollie chairs. “You can’t just say something like that and then not explain it.” Bucky’s brows furrowed and he expelled a grunt as his response to Tony.

“Bucky, you’ve got to give us something to go on here.” Natasha said calmly as she eyed an increasingly agitated Bucky.

Since coming back from Wakanda and being brought into the compound, Steve, Sam and Natasha have learned how to read Bucky. Steve has always been able to read the one hundred and six year old, they have shared life experience. Natasha was is a trained master assassin, trained in the Red Room by the Winter Soldier. One of her most valuable skills is her ability to read the emotions of anyone around her. And Sam, well he still leads a support group down at the VA. Being a war-torn veteran himself, he knows what it’s like to have to deal with the memories.

“Look, I don’t know what I meant by it.” Bucky finally said, throwing his hands above his head in exasperation. “It just came out, ya know? I didn’t process it before I said it and now, it’s out there. And to top it off, I don’t have the fucking memories there to back it up. They’re definitely there, but they aren’t just presenting themselves to me on a silver platter.” The group around him silenced.

Bucky was known for being the quiet, brooding type. His murder stare was comically famous around the compound. Sam constantly picked on Bucky about it, so hearing the man spout more than a few words at a time was a shocking experience for all of them.

“You know, there is a way that we can know what even your own mind doesn’t want you to know.” Tony said, darting his eyes over to Steve, who stood stoically in front of the large monitor.

“Goddamn, Tony! We said this isn’t an episode of FRIENDS!” Sam shouted.

“He won’t like that Tony. You know he won’t.” Natasha cut in quickly.

“But, if it works and it tells us if this woman knows anything, then it’s worth a shot.” Tony shot back.

“Tony. No. He’s already been through that and you want to subject him to it again?” Bucky was listening intently to their conversation, trying to figure out what they were referring to.  Natasha seemed adamant that Bucky would not be a fan of whatever it was. Tony, as usual, couldn’t care less.

“What are we talking about?”

“Wanda.”

“Who’s Wanda again?”

“She’s the witch.”

“We have a witch on our team? That’s not possible, there’s no such thing as witches and wizards.”

“Uh, yeah there is, cyborg.”

“No, there's not bird brain.”

“Yeah. There is, dumbass. She’s the one who does the hand thing and then there’s the crazy red glow around her? She’s got long hair? Dating the android?”

“There’s an android on the team?” Bucky was still getting to know everyone on the team, but he was positive he would know if there was a fucking android on the team.

“Yeah, the guy with the yellow glowy thing embedded in his forehead? Do you pay attention at all, Bucky? He’s dating Wanda, the witch with the red glowy hand thing?” Sam was waving his hands in front of his face and gesturing to his forehead.

“There’s no fucking way. Steve? Is there an android on the team?” Bucky turned to Steve, expecting an answer. All of the sudden, a red mass phased through the wall behind Steve. Vision appeared, looking quizzically around the room.

“Did someone ask for me?” His British accent carried through the room, once again causing the room to silence and turn to Bucky. Bucky’s lips were pursed, disgruntled that Sam was once again right in their little squabbles.

“Alright fine, but there’s not a witch right?”

“If you’re referring to Ms. Maximoff, then no. She simply manipulates molecular polarity allowing her to alter the reality around her.” Vision said it as if Bucky was meant to understand it. When in reality, Bucky was still getting over the fact fangirling that there was an android talking to him.

“However, if calling her a witch makes you more comfortable,” Vision paused and turned towards the doorway on the other end of the room, “I believe you should ask her permission before doing so.” He raised his hand causing Bucky to follow its direction.

“Hey Tony. Friday said you wanted to see me?” Wanda glided into the room, doing a quick survey of its occupants. Her gaze eventually landed on the vibrant being beside Steve. “Vis, you left in the middle of us making dinner. We’ve talked about that.”

“Yes, do forgive me, my love. However, I believe your expertise is required outside of the kitchen.” Wanda’s orbs flicked to Steve’s first and then to Tony’s, waiting for instructions.

“We want you to go inside Barnes’ mind and retrieve memories about someone for us.” Tony stated plainly. Bucky’s eyes widened and his fear grew. She can do that? Who the fuck was going to tell me that? Can she read my mind too? Is she listening now?

“That’s not exactly how it works, Tony.”

“It doesn’t matter because I never agreed to that, Stark.” Bucky said firmly. He was tired of his brain being put in a blender. He was finally getting comfortable in his own body again. He was gaining more and more control over his mind every day. Granted, he wasn’t sleeping because of the nightmares.

No, not nightmares, because of the memories. Why the fuck would he willingly subject himself to that during the daylight? No, his pain, though constant, was only to be shown at night, when he was completely alone and there’s no chance that he could hurt anyone else.

“If this is the only way that we can know for sure, then we need to do it.” Tony pushed, “You know I’m right, Cap. After what happened with the Sokovia Accords, even though they aren’t monitoring us as closely as they could be, they’re still watching. And if we storm in there without any good reason to, then it’s our asses on the line.”

“Hey, I don’t remember giving you authority over my brain. So what the fuck gives you the right to try and get me to do this shit?” Bucky stood as he spoke, “You’re heroes, goddamn it. It’s your fucking job to save people who need you to. So you should fucking do it. With or without a goddamn reason, you prick.” He shoved the chair away from him and stormed out of the room, passed Wanda who watched with a pained expression.

“He’s right, Tony.” Steve said quietly.

“About what, Cap?”

“We shouldn’t have to have a reason to do our jobs.”

“All I’m saying is that if he has information about this woman that could help us, we need to know it.” Tony glanced back to Wanda, “What if he’s enhanced like Wanda and Pietro and we go in there guns blazing. What happens if she perceives us as a threat? What then Cap?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it, Tony.” Steve was the Captain, so ultimately it was his decision. This left Tony incredibly unsatisfied, giving him a reason to implement a plan of his own. “We leave tonight. Be ready to leave in three hours.”

The room emptied quickly, everyone having their own rituals to do before departing on a mission. Steve and Sam were the last to remain in the room. “Do you really think this is a good idea?” Sam asked in a hushed whisper.

“It’s the only one I got, Sam.”

“Are you going to let him come on the mission?” Steve made a face as he clenched his jaw. “I mean, Tony has a point. If he knows something, I think we should try to figure out what it is.”

“We can’t ask him to do that, Sam. You know we can’t.”

“I’m not saying that we should, but if you bring him on this mission and he remembers something in the heat of the moment?” Sam turned his body to fully face Steve, “What are we going to do then?” Sam brought up a valid point, but Steve knew he wouldn’t be able to stop Bucky from coming on the mission.

“Like I said, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.”

********************************

It was somewhat therapeutic for Bucky to be sharpening his knives. He sat quietly on one of the overstuffed couches in the compound’s common area. A wide array of matte black knives was laid out on the coffee table in front of him. He held one in his hand, raking it against a damp stone to create a slick silver edge on the blade. His solitude didn’t last long, not that he expected it to, especially here in the compound.

“Hi, I don’t think we’ve ever formally met. I’m Wanda.” She stuck her hand out for Bucky to shake which he did, with great caution. There is no telling what this woman is capable of. I don’t need to get too comfortable with her.

“Bucky.” He kept his replies short, in the hopes of deterring her from wanting to interact with him. He knows that is exactly what Steve and his therapist in Wakanda told him to stop doing, but that’s irrelevant.

“I know what Tony was suggesting for us to do isn’t ideal, Bucky.” Bucky shuddered unintentionally, his fear rolling off of him in waves. “I just wanted to let you know, I would never do that to you. Not unless you asked me to and even then I don’t know if I would.” Bucky turned his head to face her. She seemed sincere, but then again people are always rotten on the inside.

“I promise, I won’t.”

“I’ve heard one too many promises in my day, Wanda.” He shifted back to his original task, flipping another knife into the palm of his hand and dragging it along the stone. Wanda nods and lifts herself to her feet, about to retreat to the kitchen.

“It’s the nightmares, isn’t it?” Bucky froze mid-drag, eyes boring holes into the table in front of him, not responding to Wanda. “The reason you don’t want me in your head?”

“What do you know of nightmares, witch?” Bucky sneered defensively.

“You would be surprised what I know of nightmares, Bucky.” She approached the back of the couch, curling her hands around the plush fabric. “My brother, Pietro, and I, volunteered for the experiments with HYDRA.” Bucky whipped his head around to face her, immediately registering her on a higher threat level. She lifted her right hand and a glowing red ball danced between her fingers as dynamic vines licked up her palm.

“We thought that they were there to help after everything that we went through in Sokovia.” Her accent thickened with each word, “After Stark’s bomb didn’t go off, we thought it meant we were destined to take him down. So we went to the closest freedom fighter group we could find.”

Bucky watched as she dropped her hand, the red energy dissipating immediately. “We weren’t the only ones, though. There were hundreds of us. Pietro and I just so happened to be the ones that were able to withstand what they put us through.” Their eyes met, gaze holding as she continued speaking. “Then, I watched their future. And in their ideal future, we weren’t there. None of us. No Avengers or enhanced people. No humans whatsoever.” She swallowed thickly, “That’s when we knew they lied. We had suspicions earlier, but we just did what we were told so we could get what we wanted.”

“What exactly did you want?”

“We wanted Stark dead.” She held Bucky’s eyeline. “But now, my brother is dead. And all I want is to see HYDRA's downfall at my hands.” She glanced back down at her hands, “What Tony wanted me to do,” hesitating as she continued, “I know he just wants me to go through your memories and pick out the ones specific to Agent Libra, but that’s not how it works.” Bucky looked at her and then leaned back into the couch cushions, gesturing for her to continue. “The way that I would go about that would be to have you experience the whole thing over again.”

“What do you mean?”

“What I mean,” Wanda sucked in a deep breath, “It’s like a lucid dream. Your body would be moving and you wouldn’t be in control of it. Any action that you did at that particular moment in history would be reenacted exactly as it occurred.”

“So, if I were to do this, it would be like I was the Soldier again?”

“If that’s what it felt like, then yes.” A shiver ran up Bucky’s spine, he definitely didn’t want that. “I just wanted you to know what you would be getting yourself into if you did decide to allow me access to your memories.” A stiff nod was all she received in return.

He knows she’s just trying to be nice but he can’t help but want to run away and hide in a dark room. Bucky has been through so much because of that freedom fighter organization, he couldn’t fathom people actually volunteering their bodies for their twisted scientific experiments.

“Thanks for letting me know, Ms. Maximoff.” Even though Bucky wanted nothing to do with this woman next to him, his mother still raised him to be respectful of everyone.

“Oh, you can call me Wanda.” She smiled as she began her approach to the kitchen yet again. One thing was still nagging Bucky and he had to know the answer.

“Hey, quick question Wanda.” She stopped and turned to face him, sending a small hum in question towards him. “Are you a witch?”

Her head tilted thoughtfully, “Yes, I am.” She left it at that, leaving Bucky with wide eyes and a mouth that was hanging open. Goddamn it, I fucking hate it when Sam is right.

*****************************

watch your six tag list

@indigo123789 @austynparksandpizza 

[leejungchans]

— reunited.

🆕 ask juliet anything!! | juliet’s masterlist

word count: 1.3k

warning(s): none!!

note: words in bold are spoken in english!!

set in early 2017

summary: in which juliet bumps into someone very, very familiar and dear to her heart.

Juliet nods her head along to the music playing from her earphones as she peruses the snack aisle in the supermarket. Her classes ended a bit earlier today, giving her more time before she has to be at the company for training. What better way to spend that time than getting snacks to share with the others during their breaks?

Definitely chocolate, she thinks as she grabs a bar from one of the shelves, pausing for a few seconds before grabbing two more. Who am I kidding? We’ll inhale it within thirty seconds if I get just one. What if I also got chips? Or is that too much if we’re going to get tteokbokki after training?

Sighing, Juliet looks wistfully at the assortment of snacks before lowering her head and speed-walking through the aisle. If I can’t see it, I won’t be tempted.

Stopping by the dairy section, she reaches for a bottle of banana milk after much deliberation between it and the strawberry milk. This specific brand of flavoured milk was the first thing she had after landing in South Korea, and since then she’d always try to have either before practice or evaluations as a good luck charm whenever possible.

Juliet is about to head to the cashier when she spies a boy around her age standing only a few feet away from her looking at the selection of bottled tea. Her heart skips a beat when she catches the side profile of the boy. It can’t be him... can it? But he looks so awfully similar to...

Before she can be sure, the boy makes his choice and disappears behind the aisle she was just in. Juliet finds herself following after him. She wanted—no, needed—to confirm she hadn’t been seeing things, that he is indeed who she thinks he is. It’s been so long since she’s seen him, she can’t just leave without being sure.

Doing her best to act natural, she walks back to the snack aisle and grabs a bag of spicy chips, pretending to read the label when she’s really trying to get a better look at the boy out of the corner of her eye. Unfortunately, the boy isn’t near enough for her to be sure, and before Juliet can inch closer to him, he leaves the aisle.

Damn it, I knew I should’ve put on my glasses.

Hastily shoving the bag of chips back into its original place, Juliet hurries to catch up with him, carefully peeking behind the shelves to see which section he went into.

Wait... do I look suspicious right now? What if someone’s watching me through the CCTV and thinks I’m trying to steal something? The thought causes her to shudder, hoping she’ll get her answer as quickly as possible so she won’t have to act like this anymore.

Passing through the aisles, Juliet finally finds the boy looking at the instant ramen before casually slipping in and grabbing a random one from the shelf, once again watching him using her peripheral vision. Is this weird? This is so weird. Man, if he’s not who I think he is, I would’ve done all this for nothing... Fuck! He’s looking this way! Don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him... 1790mg of Sodium... interesting... what riveting information...

So deep in thought, Juliet doesn’t realises that he’s approaching her until she feels him trying to squeeze past her in the narrow corridor in an effort to leave. Jumping in surprise from the sudden contact, the bowl of ramen slips from Juliet’s hold and falls to the ground with a clatter.

“Sorry!” they both squeak in unison, the boy crouching down to pick up the ramen before she can do so herself. When he looks up to hand it back to her, they freeze upon getting a good look at the other’s face, eyes widening with realisation.

“Felix?”

“Juliet?”

Huge smiles slowly spread across their faces after getting over the initial shock before they pull each other in a hug.

“It’s so good to see you!” Juliet squeals. “What are you doing here?”

“I live here now!” Felix explains once they separate, laughing when her eyes widen comically at his revelation.

“Shut the front door. Really?”

“Yeah! I auditioned for JYP a while ago and got accepted, and they told me to move here immediately. I wanted to contact you, but I think you changed your phone number...”

“Oh, I did,” Juliet says sheepishly. “But I’m glad we ran into each other here! Well, not really ran into... I was kinda following you around the store like a creep because I was trying to make sure if you were really... you.”

Felix giggles. “Were you? I didn’t notice. I just thought you were another student trying to buy snacks after school.”

“I mean... that part’s true,” Juliet says with a grin as they walk back to the cashier to pay. “But anyways, it’s so great that you’re with JYP now! Are you doing okay with settling in and stuff?”

He nods slowly. “I think so, I’m still adjusting to the culture shock and practising my Korean, but the boys there are helping me a lot! One of them is also from Sydney, can you believe it?”

“You’ll have to introduce us sometime then,” she says as she hands the cashier some money while he scans her items. “Plus, you found me now! So if you need anything or just someone to talk to, you can reach me! You have a Korean number now, right?”

He nods again, rummaging for his wallet and phone in his bag before handing the latter to Juliet so she can enter her number in while he pays. The two leave the supermarket with a quick “thank you!” to the cashier as she returns his phone.

“‘Aussie sister’?” Felix laughs, reading the contact name she saved for herself.

“Yeah! You can change it if you want, or if you already met another Aussie sister at JYP,” she pouts. “In that case, I can be ‘Aussie sister #2’ or ‘Julie’ or whatever.”

“Nah, I don’t know any other Aussies here other than you and the boy I mentioned earlier. His name’s Chan, by the way! Where are you going now? To SM?”

Juliet smiles melancholically. “I’m not with SM anymore, Lix,” she says softly, watching his eyebrows crease with worry. “I’m with another company now called KQ. It’s much smaller compared to SM, but I’m happy there and they treat me well, so don’t worry.”

“Well, if you’re happy, then it’s all that matters!” Felix says brightly. “I have to go back to JYP too, but we’ll meet up more now that I’m here, right?” he adds the last part hopefully.

“Definitely! When we have time, I’ll take you to all my favourite food places in this area,” Juliet promises.

Felix beams. “I can’t wait! Take care, okay? And good luck with training.”

“You too. Again, it’s really, really nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise... so, this is goodbye?” he asks when they come to a intersection, being able to tell that Juliet has to go the other route from the direction her feet are pointing at.

“Yeah... but only for now! Remember to text me later so I’ll have your number!”

Felix nods. “I will. I’ll see you around?”

“You bet. I still have so much to tell you,” Juliet tells him before they hesitantly go their separate ways, knowing they both have to be at their companies soon but still wanting to catch up more.

It doesn’t take long for her to turn around to watch Felix’s retreating figure, though she immediately bursts into laughter when he does the same, and the two friends give each other one last exaggerated wave before disappearing into the crowds of people.

Despite the freezing temperature, Juliet feels warm and fuzzy on the inside, overjoyed from seeing her childhood friend for the first time in years while also knowing that there will be more to come now that Felix also lives in Seoul.

Things really are starting to look up.

She walks into KQ’s building with a spring in her step, arms clutching her banana milk and chocolate securely when her phone chimes from a notification. Clumsily fumbling with her uniform skirt’s pocket, Juliet fishes out her phone, instantly grinning at the message that pops up on the lockscreen.

[Unknown Number] [16:03] your aussie bro right here!!! 🐨 fighting today!!!!!!

— bonus!!

juliet following felix around the supermarket trying not to look sus like:

a/n: i can’t believe it took me this long to write a scenario with felix but here it is 🥺🥺 bc they were both in a hurry, they didn’t exactly have time for an emotional reunion but rest assured they were very, very happy to see each other :3 especially for juliet, she was still adjusting to everything and everyone at kq, so when felix came into her life again it made her so happy 🥺💕

[barnesbabee]

Man Spreading || K.H

Summary: Hongjoog’s pictures made you a little shifty, and maybe drooling over them when he was still in the building wasn’t the smartest move.

Pairing: Kim Hongjoong x Reader

Words: lots and lots but I promise they’re all good

Genre: Smut

⚠ cockwarming, hair pulling, spanking ⚠

A/N: I make my own gifs now that’s right. Also, I joined two requests bc they coincidentially fit really well. Enojy 💖

P.S: I’m so sorry if you’ve already read this, but Tumblr messed up the tags and I had to re-upload it, I hope you understand it!

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

 “Hongjoong you’ll be the death of me…” You whispered to yourself as you scrolled through your phone.

  You couldn’t stop swiping left and right repeatedly between the photos on your screen. Hongjoong looked as beautiful as always in his newest Twitter update, but it certainly wasn’t his face that kept you glued to the images. Those legs, spread wide open as he sat in a high chair… The innocent pose left you hot and bothered for some reason. Maybe it was the way his thighs looked, maybe it was the way he exposed his crotch for everyone to see, or maybe it was the thought of you sitting on top of him as he spread himself like that for you.

  You pressed your thighs tighter together and trapped your lower lip between your teeth. In retrospect, perhaps zooming in and out of those pictures repeatedly, with a flushed face, while sitting on the lounge of the company you worked along with Hongjoong wasn’t the greatest idea…

   You felt someone place their chin on your shoulder and hum teasingly.

   “What are you doing Y/N?”

   You jumped in your seat and your phone fell on the floor, as your hands suddenly became too slippery to hold it. You didn’t want to turn your head and face Hongjoong, you were sure he had seen you eye-fucking his pictures and you were entirely too embarrassed about the situation.

   Hongjoong chuckled, and moved around the couch to pick up the phone that had fallen from your hands. He looked at the screen and hummed, pleased to know that the cause for your reddened cheeks had been his body.

   “Y/N, do I turn you on?” He asked.

   You didn’t reply, neither did you look at him. Your gaze remained focused on the floor, and suddenly the rug’s patterns became the most interesting in the world. Hongjoong was persistent, however, he enjoyed seeing the effect something small like his poses had on you. The male gripped your jaw and forced you to look at him. His eyes were hooded, and he hand a hint of excitement in them, as if toying with you amused him.

   You still didn’t reply, but when Hongjoong looked down and saw how tightly you pressed your thighs against each other, he smirked. His fingers grazed along the skin of your bare thighs, squeezing one of them slightly with a hiss.

    He then completely pulled away and extended his hand out for you to take.

   “Come on baby, let’s go someplace where you can sit on them instead of just staring.” Hongjoong told you, hinting at his thighs.

   You hesitantly took his hand, and he walked with you to his studio. You watched as he sat down on his chair, staring at you with a look that you had ever only seen when he was on stage.

   “Now baby,” He began, as he pulled you on top of him “I need to work. But what do you say about helping me out?”

   Hongjoong kissed the back of your neck and hummed against your neck.

  “What should I do?” You asked, fully knowing what he meant, yet you wanted to hear him say it.

   Hongjoong pushed you to sit on his knees, whilst he undid his pants and pulled them down just enough so he could pull out his cock.

   “I want you to sit on it, okay baby? Can you do that for me? Can you take my cock in you while I work?” He questioned, slowly stripping you from your shorts and panties.

  You nodded eagerly as you watched your lower pieces of clothing pool on the floor of his workplace. Hongjoong caressed your bare waist with his thumbs.

   “I wanna hear it, baby girl.” He whispered in your ear.

   “Yes, yes I can Hongjoong.”

  Your words came out almost as a moan.

   Upon receiving the green card, Hongjoong lifted you up, wrapping one arm around you, and with his free hand he placed his tip at your entrance. The male admired the sight for a second, before pushing you down on his cock.

  Hongjoong desperately wanted to throw his head back in pleasure, but he didn’t want to miss the way you sunk on his member, the way his shaft disappeaed inside of your quickly. He hummed and wiggled his hips, moving inside you slightly. You moaned at the contact and bit your lip. Hongjoong bit your neck as he ran his hand along the inside of your shirt, feeling your bare stomach. He pressed his hand on the lower part of your stomach and moaned as he felt the bump on it.

   Hongjoong took your hand in his and placed it on top of the curve on the bottom of your tummy, applying some pressure on it.

  “Can you feel it? Hm? Can you feel my cock in your tummy?” Hongjoong asked you teasingly, knowing fully well you could feel it.

   “Fuck…” You cursed under your breath “I-I can feel it.”

   “Hmm, now be a good girl and take me while I work, okay baby?” He questioned, as he moved a bang away from your face and kissed your cheek.

   You bit your lower lip and nodded as a response.

   Hongjoong let out a pleased hum, and you didn’t know if you’d last long. The man would often whisper in your ear sweet praises, telling you how good you felt, or how you were behaving well. He’d kiss your neck and move inside you from time to time, ripping a moan out of you whenever he did so, and you were so, so close to asking him to just fuck you.

  You were so focused on the way he filled you to the brim that you didn’t even notice when he closed his laptop in front of you. You only snapped out of your trance when Hongjoong tapped your waist harshly.

   “So cute, are you enjoying my cock?” He asked when he realized your state.

  You glanced over your shoulder to look at him. You nodded slightly and he chuckled as he brought his lips up to place a soft kiss on yours.

  You were a little disappointed when Hongjoong pulled out off of his cock, even going as far as letting out a displeased moan at the lack of warmth and contact.

  “I’ll take you home, okay baby?” He asked you with a wink.

  At first, you were displeased at the fact that he was letting you go, but his cheeky little wink told you that he had plans for you once you two reached your place. You smirked and returned the horny wink.

  You weakly and carefully pulled your shorts back on. You were still a little sensitive, and your legs were as wobbly as jelly, it felt like you could fall at any second.

  Hongjoong leaned against the wall and watched your pretty figure struggle to get dressed. The way you bent down to pick up your clothes from the floor, putting your ass and naked pussy in display for him almost made him force you against the wall and push his cock back inside you, but he told himself he could wait until you invited him inside your apartment.

  “Let’s go?” You asked sweetly after you were fully covered.

  Hongjoong nodded and opened the door of his studio, so you could exit first. As you passed by him, he slapped your ass, causing the unbelievable pool of cum between your legs to expand. Once you were out on their practice room, that had much better lighting than the small studio, Hongjoong could see the circular, dark stain between your legs, and all of the self-control he tried to build up evaporated into thin air.

   The male grabbed you by the hair and pushed you against the mirror of the currently empty practice room. Your cheek was pressed against the cold surface, as were your hands, and your eyes widened in shock at the sudden reaction. No one could’ve guessed this sweet, shy boy was capable of doing such things.

   “I can’t hold back anymore, I’ll fuck you against this mirror until everyone in the building knows how good I’m doing you.”

   Your eyes shut tightly as he whispered the sentence through gritted teeth.

   “Please… Please make me cum Hongjoong.”

   Your pained little beg made Hongjoong harshly tug down your shorts and panties just enough so your ass was showing, followed by his own pants and underwear.

   The man spread your legs wider for him and you perked up your ass. You hissed at the way he toyed with you, separating your folds and running the tip of his cock along them.

   “Fuck Hongjoong stop teasing!” You whisper-yelled at him, already getting desperate for him to enter you.

   He immediately gripped your waist and pushed inside of you.

  Even if the man tried, he couldn’t control himself, he wanted to hear the dirty sounds your bodies made as he slammed into you, and the way you’d moan his name when he finally filled you up with his cum.

  When Hongjoong bottomed inside of you, he waited for a second, taking in and loving the way you clenched around his hard member. He gripped your waist, so he’d have some stability as he rammed into you.

  He had no mercy for you, and the way he handled you, as if he owned you as if you were his toy for him to fuck into, sent shivers down your spine and an overwhelming wave of pleasure hit you every time he violently pushed into you.

  Your breath fogged the mirror, and you couldn’t keep yourself from moaning and begging Hongjoong to go faster, to which he obliged.

  His pace quickened and his fingertips dug deeper into your skin. You could feel his fingernails piercing your flesh slightly and you winced at the pleasurable pain.

  “You take me so, so well Y/N, you’re such a good girl.” Hongjoong told you, grabbing your ass as he whispered the sweet praises.

  Your eyes fluttered close.

  “Fuck you feel so good Hongjoong…” You whimpered.

  You desperately wanted to cling onto something, but you couldn’t, so you just balled up your wrists against the glass.

   Noticing this, Hongjoong grabbed both of your wrists and held them together, behind your back, restraining you from moving them.

   He removed his other hand from your waist, and you felt a stinging pain in your ass, then another, then another. Hongjoong couldn’t get enough of the way your ass jiggled every time he spanked you, or every time he pounded into you.

   “Fuck Y/N you look so f-fucking good taking my cock like this…”

   You felt the way his thrusts became sloppier and uneven, and you knew he was about to cum, but so were you.

   “C-cum in me Hongjoong.”

   His cock twitched at your filthy words, and they were like a command. After hearing you say that in a breathy, moany voice, he buried his cock deep in you and spurts of warm cum hit your walls, throwing you over the edge as well.

  It felt overwhelming, being filled up by his cum, and your orgasm hit you like a train. Your legs were shaky, and Hongjoong had to wrap an arm around your waist to prevent you from falling as you cried his name.

  He rested his forehead on your shoulder and pulled his softening dick out of you. The room was filled with heavy breaths and a small wince from when he pulled out of you.

  You could feel his cum start to drip from your aching hole, and when Hongjoong noticed it he immediately pulled up your clothes. He tapped your pussy from behind and kissed your shoulder.

   “You’ll have a lot to clean up when you get home.”

[quietmyfearswith]

where our demons hide {dark!tony stark x fem!reader}

where our demons hide {dark!tony stark x fem!reader} part 1

status — ongoing series

warnings — non-con turns into dub-con, oral sex (giving & receiving), name-calling, swearing, porn with a bit of plot, dark!tony stark, unprotected penetrative sex (pls dont do this, use protection!)

word count — 3,205

a/n — so i’m not gonna lie this is a little self-indulgent and this was an idea i somehow had after reading a few fics/drabbles with the same premise. this will be a dark series featuring not only tony stark but also the other male avengers. i’m also considering on making a separate dark series featuring the female avengers with the same concept. also!!! infinity war, civil war, and endgame did not happen (totally not bc everything went downhill from there & i hate it but because it just would be more fitting for the story) and that tony & pepper are not in a relationship in here bc in this house we do not condone cheating. & this is my first ever time writing smut so feedback would be very much appreciated :>

masterlist

“Boss lady, you heading out already?” John asked as he knocked on the outside of my office door. Seeing him with his bag strap over his shoulder, it made me turn back my attention briefly to the desk clock I had, my eyes widening in shock as I noticed how it was already a quarter to 9. “Jesus, has it been that long?” I said to him and to myself in disbelief.

John chuckled as he approached my desk and moved some files out of the way and sat down, “Well time sure does fly when you’re working your ass off.” I threw my head back, trying to rub off of the exhaustion off of my eyes, agreeing with him by saying, “As the head of the research department, I don’t think I have time to slack off and mess around.” 

As I looked into his eyes, I felt that he was conflicted — that he did want to help me furthermore, but there was also this part of him that wanted nothing but to spend a night out and enjoy himself and afterwards proceed with crashing into his bed. He inched closer to me, “You need to take a break though. Your report is like, 90% done, and that it is extremely well-detailed and comprehensive. I’m sure the mighty heroes of the world will understand if you go home now, rest and enjoy for the weekend, and come back on Monday to finish it up.”

“Do you think that these mighty heroes of the world always have the option to take a break on the weekends and come back to the job on Monday?” I sassed back as I moved my attention from him back to my computer, searching for more essential information for the team’s next mission. John, not taking a hint that I had already wasted time by talking to him, scooted closer and said, “Well for one, your work does not involve travelling suspects and mercenaries. You’re computer ain’t going anywhere, you know?” as he brushed a strand of hair that has fallen from my ponytail as he explained, “I just don’t want you to overwork yourself. I really care about you, Y/N.”

Creating some distance between me and him, I looked at him pointedly and told him, “I get that you may be worried about how I overwork myself, but I’m okay. If it ever gets too much, I will take a break. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to finish this research and report so that I can go home and get some rest. Unless you’ll help me in accomplishing this task, then I suggest that you just leave.”

John looked like he was in disbelief, but he quickly masked up what he felt and just walked away from my desk and awkwardly waved as he headed for the door. “What a bitch..” I heard him mumble lowly, not having enough strength to say it directly in my face — for in doing so could get him fired.

Following John’s departure, I was able to work peacefully and productively. Gathering and verifying information, confirm tipped intelligence, compiling these into an extensive and coherent report. As I was re-reading once more the final product of my long hours of labor and hard work, I stretched my arms up, hoping to provide some relief to my aching back. 

“Mr. Stark would like to ask if he can swing by your office, Ms. Y/n,” the voice of the A.I. startled me briefly, but it somehow also brought me back to my senses. Wanting to look decent and not like I was mere minutes away from passing out, I quickly removed the hair tie from my ponytail, fixing up my hair as I replied to Friday, “Yeah, he can come up.” As I was done attempting to look presentable, it wasn’t even a minute until I heard the office door open and the man himself, Tony Stark, did walk in — wearing a tight dri fit shirt and sweatpants. 

“Good evening Mr. Stark, was there anything I can help you out with?” I watched as he walked around the office, as if he was checking out if everything was in place — as if he had been there before and was making sure that things were the way he once envisioned. He settled down on an office chair, opposite from where I was sitting down.

Putting his chin on his hand as he crossed his legs, he stared at me curiously and intensely as he informed me about his sudden visit, “Was walking around the office wing when Friday informed me that you were the only employee left in the building. So I thought I’d drop by and see as to what was the reason as to why you were still working late and not going about with your weekend plans.”

I let out a sigh I did not know I was holding — probably out of relief that I was not in trouble — before sharing with him the reason, “I was just finishing up the final touches on the researched information for your mission next week.” He looked interested in that and rose to his feet and made his way to where I was sitting. “You mind if I take a look?”

I shook my head no and started to get up from my seat, when he placed his left hand on my shoulder, pulling me down to remain seated. “Stay,” he requested as his right hand operated the mouse in order to inspect the document opened on my computer, “I might have some remarks or questions about what you have researched.”

Beginning to feel a bit of uneasiness, I tried to fill him in about some parts I thought he was confused or curious about — judging by how he spent some time longer on certain pages compared to the others. “You did a good job, Y/N. Without a doubt next week’s mission would have already failed without what you have done.”

Avoiding his look and our close proximity, I shrugged off the compliment by responding, “Um, thank you. But it wasn’t just me, you know? Some other researchers also helped, I merely just organized and arranged it, Mr. Stark.” His hand still on my shoulder moved to turn me so I was facing him, he sat down on my desk and begged to differ, “I don’t think you would have been the overall head of the research department if all you did was compile shit, right?”

Fiddling with my fingers, I halfheartedly agreed with what he said. Looking up, I saw him cross his arms and his face lit up, as if he had remembered something he forgot to mention. “Which reminds me, I do need your help in researching something. Think you can handle it?” I was able to conceal my surprise, what was it he needed help with? And most importantly, why would he tell me about it now? There are procedures if an Avenger needs something to be researched relating to their work. But I could not bring myself to question him, so instead I buried those doubts in the back of my head. 

“T-That would depend, I guess? What is it about? And w-when do you need it to be completed?” I couldn’t help but scold myself for coming out as timid and scared. He uncrossed his arms and checked his wrist watch while he answered, “I need it to be completed tonight. Possibly into the morning. It depends.”

My jaw dropped in shock and astonishment. Does he seriously think that a research can be completed in mere hours? But if I had wanted to keep this job, then I had to comply with what he wanted. “I think that it would be a challenge to do so, but yeah. I guess it can be doable. What would the research be about?” I managed to blurt out and started to roll up the sleeves of my white, long-sleeved blouse and preparing to type on the computer.

However, Tony held my hands and placed it in my lap, preventing me from moving towards the computer and looked at me deeply, “It’s gonna be about you, Y/N.” I once again found myself dumbfounded and speechless. Opening my mouth I stammered out, “W-What? Mr. Stark, what do you mean?” 

He chuckled as he brushed the strands of hair that had covered a portion of my face. One of his hands stroking my cheek while the other had a firm hold on both my hands situated at my lap, he calmly said, “It’s gonna be about you, baby. I wanna get to know you better. Let’s start with me finding out what it is you’re hiding underneath all these clothes, hm?” 

As he guided me onto my feet and pushed me against the office table, his lips grazed my ear and he kissed it lightly and whispered, “I like the way you call me Mr. Stark, makes me feel powerful.” His kisses started to descend, his lips leaving a trail in my neck as his hands started to caress my waist. Snapping out of my frozen state, I somehow managed to speak up and attempt to push him away from me, “Mr. Stark, please don’t do this. Please, stop” 

With one hand, he quickly grabbed both of my hands and placed it behind my back. His other hand wrapped around my throat, just where his lips were and hissed out, “Why do you want me to stop, Y/N? Do you not like this, baby?” I shook my head, telling him I did not in fact like where this was going. He scoffed, “I think you do. You like the idea of someone taking you in your office, the place where you spend most of your days in. Can’t imagine you getting laid frequently with how busy you are, baby.”

Tears were slowly streaming down my face, trying to wiggle away from the hero that everyone adored and respected. He pushed his body into mine, causing me to stumble which he used to his advantage by lifting me up and sitting me down on the desk. His legs wrapping around mine, effectively trapping me, he lifted my jaw and looked into me as he smirked and said, “Tell you what, if I search you up down there and find that you aren’t wet, I’ll let you go. Think that’s fair, baby?”

He did not even wait for me to answer as he made quick work of removing my skirt as he knelt down on the floor. After unzipping my skirt and discarding it to the floor, he chuckled upon seeing that I was wearing red, lace panties. “For someone who claims to not want this, you sure as hell came prepared.” His hands were then fondling my thighs as he kissed both my kneecaps and requested, “Open those legs, baby girl.” I shook my head and tried to cover my intimate area with both my hands. This evidently displeased the billionaire as he harshly placed his hands on my knees and threatened me by saying, “Unless you want to walk away jobless, then I suggest that you fucking open your legs.”

Filled with fear and horror, I reluctantly opened my legs and showed him my lower half. He showed his appreciation by chuckling darkly and immediately ripping off my panties. Just as I gasped with what he did with my piece of clothing, he brought one hand to my entrance and scooped some of the juices that my body was involuntarily producing. “Well what do you know, you’re not just wet. You’re soaking wet,” he bragged as he used his other grab my leg and stretched it out sideways, giving him more room to work with. “Time to start our research on you, baby.”

As he slowly inserted two of his thick fingers, I could not hold back the whimper as he ruthlessly moved his finger in and out of me. “Please, Mr. Stark, don’t do this.” I pleaded, hoping that his conscience would slap him and somehow get him to stop. But shortly after saying that, I let out a moan of pleasure as I felt his tongue lick my bundle of nerves.

“Just stop resisting, baby,” With his mouth still attached to my pussy lips, he used his other hand to fondle my thighs — hoping to rub off the tension within me. I threw my head back as he thrusted his fingers hard and sucked hard enough that I forgot my earlier concerns of how I was at first reluctant in giving in to him. I threaded my fingers into his hair, pushing his face closer, urging him to continue with what he was doing. He complied and proceeded to focus his sucking my little nub while he added another finger inside before managing to go at even a faster pace than he previously was.

“Fuck,” I exclaimed, “I’m close.” Right after saying that, Mr. Stark abruptly stopped his actions. I looked at him, and there he was licking off the residual juices off of his fingers.”Can’t have you finishing just on my fingers, baby. Has to happen with me inside you. But before that,” he stood up and pulled down his sweatpants and briefs, “Show me how talented your hands and mouth are first, baby.”

Before I could even process what he said, my body responded to the words that just left his mouth and I was pushing him away in order to make room for me to work and dropped down on my knees. Despite being of average length, I took note of how he had an incredible girth. With one hand fondling his balls, the other swiped the precum that was leaking out and spread it around the tip. He let out a loud groan as I then opened my mouth and captured his length.

“Yes, that’s a good girl, baby,” he complimented me while stroking my hair and later on gathering it all up in order for him to control the pace and speed of how I was sucking him. I glanced up at him just as I started gagging around his cock and fondling the rest that failed to fit in my mouth. “Do I taste good, baby?” he teased me while probably noticing that I was struggling not only to fit his entire length in my mouth, but also to please him.

A gurgled yes was the only reply that I managed to get out and he suddenly pulled out of my mouth and quickly put me back into my feet. He ripped off the blouse that I was wearing and briskly unclasped my bra. I watched him intently as he sat down on the swivel chair where I spent most of my working hours on and called out for me, “As much as I love how you please me with your mouth, it would be a waste to not cum inside you. So come over here and ride me,” he demanded as he patted his thighs.

I slowly began to walk over him and climbed over his legs. His smirk widened upon seeing me slowly get into position to ride him — with one of my hands holding onto his shoulder and the other one holding his cock up, I sank down onto him fully. The action might have taken the superhero back as both his hands flew into grasping on my hips and he threw his head back in pleasure.

Moving in slow, circular motions I found myself moaning and panting loudly, breathing out words of praise that had stroke the ego of the superhero. He brought his hand to my clit and he rubbed me fast enough that got me to stop riding him because of how intense the pleasure was. Mr. Stark’s dissatisfaction with what I did was made evident by him slapping my ass with enough force to push my chest into his and reprimanding me, “Did I fucking tell you to stop? No! So keep riding me, you fucking whore!”

I let out a whimper as he once again slapped my ass cheek and rubbed me even harder and faster. Placing both my hands near his collarbone, I began to ride him even faster and started to feel the release begging to come out. This pleased him as he stopped his assault on my ass and began to twist and pull on my nipples. The simulation proved to be too much for me that my head fell into the side of his neck and I began to trail kisses on there and suddenly let out a loud scream as I had suddenly reached my climax.

“Fucking hell, you’ve become even more tighter,” Mr. Stark sounded like he too was already on the verge of reaching his climax. Both his hands then met my hips once more and he started to bounce myself on his cock, disregarding that I could have been sensitive, hoping to finish inside of me. “I told you that you wanted this. That you needed to be fucked hard. So much for the “I don’t want this bullshit,” huh baby?” He mocked me as he noticed the stray tears that were falling on my cheeks as I felt that the stimulation was too much.

“I bet I can make you cum again. That by the time I release my load deep inside you, you will also be creaming over yourself.” His overconfidence was once again being made evident and determined to make his statement true, he began to wrap his mouth around my nipple and one of his fingers was shoved right into my asshole. It might have been the sudden intrusion on my backside, or the feeling of his warm tongue on my nipple, or the fact that his cock was being rammed in and out of me at a dangerously quick pace, but I found myself squirting all over both of our legs.

“Fuck, baby, that’s a good girl,” he moaned out as I also felt him release his juices inside of me. He stopped his licking, fingering, and maneuvering of my body as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled my head to lay down on his chest. We both took this time in order to calm down and catch our breaths. His one hand was playing with my hair while the other lightly ran up and down my spine. 

With his cock planted still deeply in me, he made me look into his eyes as his hard and demanding tone vanished and instead was replaced with a soft voice accompanied with a gentle look in his eyes as he said, “You did very well in accompanying and complying with my research, baby.”

His praise made me smile and I once again placed my head by his shoulder and briefly closed my eyes — still not having fully recovered from our sexual activity — when what he said caused me once again to be speechless and shocked, “Get ready because in a few minutes I’ll once again be conducting research. But I was thinking about conducting it in a different venue.”

[doobriik]

𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗹𝗲𝗺𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗱𝗲 • 𝗱.𝗱

A/N: based off of this song by the wombats:) and also sry if this is pretty shitty, I wrote it all in one go and didn’t bother proof reading bc it’s one of those kinda evenings ehehe

summary: you’re david’s second assistant and he has a biggg crush on you but you don’t realise so you’re always hooking up with guys to take your mind off of him.

warnings: angst, swearing, fluff

“Going out again, Y/N?” David asks with a slight hint of frustration in his voice as you come into the kitchen, heels on and makeup done up with your new black dress showing off more leg than necessary. 

“I can stay at a friend’s if it’s an inconvenience?” You reply, his tone taking you by surprise. You were hoping to catch his eye, not make him angry. After all, the only reason you were dressing up every night was in the hopes of one day him somehow falling for you. 

David shakes his head, picking up his Chipotle order and throwing it on a plate. “I ordered some for you, too. If you’re home before the sun comes up, lock the door, yeah?” And with that he’s walking off back to his room, leaving you standing in shock as you hear his door slam. Tears threaten to prick your eyes - why was he all of a sudden acting like this? He always seemed somewhat distant with you, but never usually angry. Lost in your own thoughts, you hadn’t realised just how long you’d been stood at the kitchen counter, tears rolling down your cheeks, until you see Natalie sit up on the couch. 

“He didn’t mean it, ya know.” She begins; you supposed Nat knew David best - after all, she has been his friend since they were kids. You look up from the floor, making eye contact with her. A frown immediately appears on her lips when she sees the tears. “Oh Y/N.” Nat jumps up from the sofa, walking around the kitchen counter to envelope you in a hug.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask and Natalie pats your back sympathetically. 

She knew exactly why David was so angry, but it felt wrong her telling you instead of him. “You know how he gets when he’s stressed.” 

**

“Fucking hell.” David mutters as he rolls over in his bed, hearing you laughing as you open up the front door. He checked his phone - it was 3am - and he felt hopeful that maybe tonight you hadn’t brought anyone back, but his heart dropped when he heard a deep voice muttering sweet nothings as two sets of footsteps lazily walked back to your room. “Please, no.” He whispered, but your door slammed shut. 

Once, just once, he wished you’d just stay in with him instead of going out with your friends. He wasn’t concerned that you were in it for the drink, because nine times out of ten you were sober when you came back to the house, but he was more concerned that nine times out of ten, you also brought someone back with you. Why couldn’t you see that he was there? David was there with open arms, ready to have you whenever you wanted him, but it seemed you never did. Natalie had told him on countless occasions that it was because he wasn’t exactly warm with you, but he didn’t know how to act cool around you. He didn’t know what to say to you to get you to like him; with Liza, it was different. He knew exactly what to say to make her laugh, but you were so different and he loved that, but you were mind boggling to him. 

Sighing, he shut his eyes and tried to block everything out. He tried not to make a habit out of listening to your moans; he knew it was wrong and besides, he hoped that one day he’d be the one causing them. A few minutes pass and he was almost drifting off until he heard some commotion. “Just fuck off!” He heard you shout and he immediately jumped to his feet. 

Waiting a few moments, he heard your bedroom door open up and heavy feet retreating down the hallway. “Fucking frigid bitch.” A low voice mumbled. David opened up his bedroom door, noticing your own door wide open right opposite his. The front door slammed, indicating the guy had left. 

“You okay?” He asks, the sound of your sobs filling the room. You were sat on the side of your bed facing the wall, looking down at your feet. David made his way over to you, sitting down on the bed and wrapping an arm around your shoulders to which you leant into his embrace. It killed him to see you in this state - any inhibitions of him messing up had disappeared and all he cared about was making sure you were okay. 

“I’m a slut.” You whispered in between cries. David’s heart broke and he held you tighter. “And don’t say I’m not because I know you think I am.” He remained quiet for a few moments, unsure of what to say to you. 

“I know you’re not. A slut wouldn’t be able to admit it to herself.” Your cries ease up and you let out a sigh. Finally realising the situation you had managed to get yourself into, you felt a wave of embarrassment wash over you. “I don’t know what exactly what you’re going through right now, Y/N, but know I’m here for you.” 

David’s arms tighten around you and you take in a big breath of his shirt, only managing to smell the shampoo he uses. “I do it for you.” You suddenly utter out, shock filling your body as you realise what exactly you just said. Breaking away from David, you manage to look him in the eye for the first time since he came to you. “I get with all these guys to hide the loneliness I get from you.” 

David’s eyes break away from yours, switching to look down at his feet to avoid you seeing his eyes begin to fill with salty tears. “I don’t mean to be so distant from you.” He replies, voice cracking slightly from emotion. “It’s just it’s easier not to say anything to you and not mess up my words.” Your heart flutters - was he really saying all of this?

“I thought you hated me.” You whisper, grabbing his hand and rubbing small circles over his knuckles. He finally looks at you again, chuckling.

“I could never hate you, even when you bring awful guys home. It hurt me, yeah, but I never opened myself up to you, so I guess I deserved it.” David replies, a small smile playing at his lips. The warm light from your bedside lamp made all of his features jump out at you. He’d never looked so perfect to you.

“You didn’t deserve it.” You began and lifted your hand up to his face to push some of his hair out of his face. “None of them meant anything.” 

David chuckled again, wrapping his hand around your arm. “Your moans definitely said otherwise.” Shaking your head, you looked down again.

“When you’re trying to get rid of a guy, you’ve got to be convincing.” The two of you sat in silence for a minute or so, just enjoying each other’s company, letting your hands circulate small movements on one another until David began to stand up.

“Well I should probably head back to bed–”

“Please stay.” You interrupted him, gently grabbing his arm. Your eyes interlocked for a few seconds before he got back down onto the bed, this time following you as you crawled backwards to get underneath the covers. He copied, laying down and opening up his arms for you to lay in between them, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around you. 

David peppered the top of your head with gentle kisses, your body immediately relaxing. “Night, Y/N.” He whispered, his hand resting in your hair as you felt his chest rise and fall with his soft breathing. 

“Night, Dave.” You mumbled a reply before drifting off into a sleep, feeling like you were exactly where you needed to be for the first time in forever. 

[roses-of-rutherglen]

Uniquely Normal- chapter 2

-Seamus-

Seamus had been waiting for his Hogwarts letter ever since he accidentally set the cats tail on fire when he was two and a half. So when it arrived upon on his eleventh birthday there was much celebration in the Finnegan household.

The trip to Diagon Alley was planned over a weekend as they would have to travel from Portarlington to London. Seamus couldn't sleep for excitement in the nights leading up to the trip, this would also be the first time his dad had been to Diagon Alley despite knowing about his wife being a witch for the last fifteen years of their marriage. The sun rose bright and early as the family of three hopped in the car bound for London with their suitcases, prepared for a long weekend of shopping and learning about the world that two of them were entering that year.

Seamus was almost bored to death after the innumerably long trip, finally stepping stiffly out of the car and trying to work some feeling back into his legs. They could have flooed but his mother was insistent on travelling as non magical people do and making sure they stay in touch with both the Muggle and Wizarding sides to their lives.

They walked through the streets of London's shopping district before coming to a shabby looking pub with the peeling sign reading 'The Leaky Caldron'. Funnily the rest of the population seemed to scan right over the pub looking from the record store on the right to the coffee store on the left.

"Come along you two" his mam beckoned "it may not seem like much but ye'll be surprised." Both males shook their heads and followed the over enthusiastic Irish witch into the dingy pub.

"Hey mam, why'd we stop comin' here again? Cause I distinctly remember comin' here when I was a wee one" his mother chuckled.

"You and I stopped coming when you started having random outbursts of setting things on fire and nearly burnt down Magical Menagerie when you got too excited about the "wee cute mousies" she put air quotes around the last few words and Seamus groaned burying his head in his hands.

"Ah yes, I do seem to remember your particular flair for pyrotechnics that Ye haven't quite grown out of" smiled his dad "good for St Pats but not much for every day." Seamus looked away pretending not to know who his parents were before being dragged along to a wall at the back of the building.

His mam took out her wand and tapped the first brick to the left above the dustbins. Watching with awe as the bricks shifted and reformed revealing a street that seemed filled with magic and life. Store displays danced and the street was filled with light, chatter, and children around his age and older coming in and out of the many stores along the street. Everything was painted in bright colours catching his attention and drawing him away from his parents to stare at moving displays or glittering advertisements. People filled the street and several times he nearly got lost, dragged away in the current of people.

"Come on Seamus, keep up" called his dad as they started walking up the street towards the huge white building that looked like it should be a royal palace. Painted pearly white with all the decoration you could think of. He quickly hurried to catch up to his parents. They passed the security goblins before entering a huge hall.

The floor was marble and the clerk's desks made of rich coloured wood. The Finnegan family headed for a free clerk that was next to a boy with dark skin and his mother who looked to be exchanging muggle money for Galleons, sickles and knuts.

"Alright mate?” Seamus greeted the boy, he nodded looking bashful before Seamus continued, "me names Seamus" the boy smiled and replied

"My names Dean" the two shook hands

"first year at Hogwarts I'm guessing?" Seamus queried Dean smiled

"yeah, big shock to my parents honestly I think they wanted me to be a doctor or a lawyer" they both chuckled and Seamus was for once grateful for his half muggle upbringing. Dean looked like he was about to say something else but Seamus' mother called out for him to follow her "One second Ma," he called back at her "what were Ye gonna say mate?" Dean shook his head

"doesn't matter, see you on the first" they waved their goodbyes and the two headed off leaving the boy to the back of his mind as he and his parents walked out of the bank and down the street.

"Alright I'll go and get your books," said his mam "and you two head on down to Olivander's then we'll get everything else we need." She hugged both of them and was off before they could say a word. Seamus looked around a little nervously before his Dad called out and they walked down the street.

"I know I'm not the best with this Seamus, but I hope Ye know I'm trying me best" his Dad stuttered nearly running into a witch with long purple hair and robes that people kept tripping over. Seamus smiled

"I know ye're doin' your best and I definitely appreciate that. We'be both been thrown pretty much into the deep end here." They both chuckled and looked up to find themselves in front of one of the shabbier shops within the street. The peeling gold letters over the door read 'Ollivander's makers of fine wands since 382 BC.' A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion on the window and the door made a slight tingling noise as they entered. A man who looked as old and shabby as his shop appeared behind the counter.

"Ah, hello there how are you both doing today?" Asked the man in a voice that sounded way too young for his years.

"Okay thanks, a wee bit nervous but getting more comfortable, how're ye going today sir," Seamus answered and the man smiled.

"An Irish man eh? Don't get many here they tend to go to Varitas' in Dublin but I'm glad to meet you. What might your name be?" The man called wandering off into the stacks of shelves lined with narrow rectangular boxes

"Er, Seamus Finnegan sir." Seamus called back watching as the man returned with several boxes under his arms.

"Ah yes, I remember when your mother first came in for her wand, wonderful woman with a sweetheart and strong beliefs."

"I think we can easily say stubborn." Interjected Seamus' father, gaining a chuckle from Seamus and a knowing grin from the older man.

"Try this one why don't you" Ollivander suggested taking the cover off the box closest to Seamus. He took the box lifting out the jet black wand inside it. "Yew, 10 inches and a core of unicorn hair slightly springy, good for charms." Seamus picked the wand up unsure of what to do next. " Well go on give it a flick" Olivander prompted Seamus did so and the chair that his Dad had just been about to sit in flew out from his grasp and into the wall losing one of its legs.

“Nope" stated Ollivander handing him the next wand, "13 inches, cherry wood and a dragon heart strung core, give it a swirl." Seamus did so and a painfully high pitched ringing emitted from the wand. "Drop it, no again a slightly tricky customer" Ollivander smiled. Seamus was confused how in any way that could be a good thing but before he could ask Olivander was back.

“I think this will be the one," he said handing it over. It was a light coloured wand with a black line spiraling down the handle section. "Oak and ebony 12 inches and a Phoenix feather core, definitely one of our more unusual combinations but let's try it." Seamus lifted the wand and gently swished it, golden sparks appeared from the end and a warm sensation ran up his arm he smiled.

Olivander did too "well, we found one this is one of the first wands I ever made and it has never been able to find a person, these two kinds of wood mix strength and flexibility into one while the Phoenix feather core shows you are pure of heart and will to do the best for everyone. This is a wonderful match and as I'm sure you saw, the wand chooses the wizard."

He held his hand out and Seamus shook it before paying the thirteen galleons for the wand and walking out with it in the box. They met his Mam outside the ice cream parlor and started walking down the street.

"Since you took so long in there I got yer books, potion ingredients and robes. All we gotta do now is go to Magical Menagerie without you setting something on fire and get you a pet." She smiled talking a million miles an hour, the two boys smiled at each other before following her down towards the brightly painted shop.

They ended up getting a jet black fluffy kitten with eyes like a galaxy, named him Ebony and headed back towards the wall that had formed their entrance, which from this side looked like an old wooden door and headed back through the streets of London towards the car park.

But as they drove back to the hotel and he thought back on his day, the boy from Gringotts, Dean, popped back into his mind and he regretted not talking to the obviously muggle-born boy more. Maybe he could have helped him find his way or even offered to save him a seat on the train, but what was done was done and he just had to hope he could find him again when school started.

All of a sudden he felt very alone, being the only child in the neighbourhood with magic was tough. Whilst he had plenty of friends he had no one he could really talk to about magic apart from his mother who was at work a lot and though his father tried he really couldn't relate. He couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts, and to see Dean again.

<- chapter 1 here!!! Chapter 3 here!!->

[lunatens]

flowers in your footsteps

word count: 1912

genre: magic au, flufffff!!

pairing: forest nymph!reader x lee minho

summary: basically you’re a forest nymph and your cute bf Minho lives nearby and comes to visit you after school and that’s pretty much it lol

a/n: kesya you inspired me to write something magic bc magic is actually the best and every time u write something magical or fantasy I die so I *tried* to do something involving a lil magic!

~

the bark digs into your back as you lean against the trunk of your favourite maple tree (it’s your favourite because it happens to be the closest tree to minho’s backyard about 50 meters away) perched in your usual spot on a thick branch high up in the tree. you keep a firm gaze on the back door of minho’s house; your keen ears picked up on the school bus’ distant roar about half an hour ago, so minho should be here by now. you let your head rest back against the trunk, looking up at the delicate branches and leaves above you. a few beams of sunlight are able to find their way through the thick canopy of leaves, but otherwise the tree provides a fair amount of protection from the hot afternoon sun. the still summer air is so thick you feel like you could swim through it, and strands of hair are plastered to your neck and forehead from your sweat. you sigh in annoyance at the humidity and summon a gentle breeze to help cool yourself off. it tickles the trees and causes the leaves to rustle about on their branches, so you close your eyes to listen to your favourite sound (well, your favourite sound besides minho’s laugh of course).

~

your eyes fly open at the familiar squeak of minho’s back door opening and closing, and you excitedly leap down from the tree, bare feet landing in the soft grass below. your sudden movement startles a couple of birds who were feeding on the ground nearby, and they fly away in a flurry of flaps and anxious chirps. you mutter a quiet apology then turn to wave at minho, who’s now approaching the edge of the forest.

“you’re late,” you say with a pout as he finally reaches you under the shady copse of trees. minho leans in to press an apologetic kiss to your cheek, and you roll your eyes (but he still notices your little smile and the subtle blush on your cheeks, and he knows you never get tired of his kisses).

“i know, i’m sorry. rehearsal for the dance show tomorrow went a little longer than usual, so i had to walk home. i brought you something though,” he says, reaching into his bag and pulling out two brightly coloured popsicles. you gasp in excitement, eagerly grabbing one and tearing off the wrapper.

“i figured they’d be nice on a day like today,” minho says, opening the other one for himself. you simply nod in return, mouth full of flavoured ice.

“thank you,” you say, leaning in to give minho a sweet, sticky kiss. he lets out a loud laugh and rustles your hair, and you stick out your purple-stained tongue at him.

“i have another way we can cool down; let’s head to chan’s pond!” you suggest, taking minho’s hand to lead him into the forest. chan is one of your closest friends; you befriended the water nymph when he found you practicing growing lilypads in his pond as a you g child, and the two of you have been like siblings ever since. chan is one of the few nymphs in the forest that didn’t shun you after they found out about your human boyfriend, and you’re eternally grateful to him for sticking by your side.

you lead minho through the forest, guiding him around all of the roots and rocks along the way to make sure he doesn’t trip. you walk in a comfortable silence, listening to the vibrant sounds of the forest; cicadas buzzing, birds singing, and the trickle of chan’s little waterfall growing ever louder.

“i really wish you could come tomorrow,” minho says, breaking the silence, and you can hear the faint sadness in his voice.

“minnie, you know i can’t leave the forest; believe me, i would if i could,” you say. “i wish i could be there to see you perform, i’m sure it’ll be amazing. you’ll just have to perform it for me!” you say, trying to cheer him up.

“anything for you,” he says with a wink. “i could use another rehearsal anyways,” he adds on. you reach the pond and you wave to chan, who’s sprawled out on a sunny rock across the water; he lifts his head up to glance over his sunglasses at you (minho brought him a gift for being so kind to the two of you) then flops back down on the rock, toes dipping into the cool pond water. minho goes to take off his shirt and jump in the water, but you tug him towards the large grassy clearing beside the pond.

“dance first,” you beg, and minho easily caves under your puppy dog eyes.

“i don’t have music though,” he says, and you shrug your shoulders, folding your arms as you lean against a tree. minho looks at you for a moment, then sighs and begins to dance, his movements fluid and graceful. each time he takes a step you grow a small flower in his footsteps, so by the end of the dance minho is surrounded by a cluster of colourful wildflowers. he stands there breathless, huffing and puffing as he looks around him in wonder. his shirt is damp with sweat, but when he pulls you in for a hug you could care less.

“you’re such a show off,” he says with a cheeky grin, then more quietly adds “but i’ll never get over how much beauty you add to this world,” and you giggle shyly.

“it’s just a couple flowers,” you mumble, and minho just stares at you in awe. his eyes flicker down to your lips, and you make the first move, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him close so you can kiss him. despite the heat, the kiss is still magical and wonderful and soft as always, and it tastes of the fruity popsicles you had earlier. minho parts his lips, allowing you to deepen the kiss, and his hands move to rest on your hips, when suddenly you’re hit with what feels like someone dumping a bucket of ice cold water over the two of you. you and minho pull away from each other immediately, gasping in shock and the sudden coldness. you brush the water from your eyes and turn to glare at chan, who’s now sitting up on his rock and peering at you through his sunglasses, a triumphant smirk on his sun kissed face.

“no making out at my pond when i’m here,” he says. “now are you two gonna swim or not?” he questions, and in response minho peels off his now drenched shirt, picks you up in his arms (you let out a screech of laughter at this) and leaps into the pond, the two of you laughing as you enjoy the refreshing cool water. chan shakes his head at the two of you, mutters a quiet “children,” under his breath then lies back down on the rock.

~

after a long while of splashing each other and swimming and goofing around, the pruny wrinkles on your fingers and toes tell you it’s time to get out of the water. currently you and minho are sitting at the base of the waterfall, letting the gentle stream of water trickle over your heads and chatting about whatever you feel like.

“okay minho, let’s go,” you say as you glide back into the water, looking at him and waiting for him to follow.

“race you!” he says suddenly, and launches himself into the pond, swimming furiously for the shore. you chase after him, but it’s hard to swim when you’re erupting in fits of giggles and the pond water keeps getting in your mouth. in a last ditch effort you grow a long winding plant from the bottom of the pond; just as minho is about to reach the shore, it snakes itself around his ankle and pulls him back through the water.

“unfair!” he whines as you pass him, swimming gracefully while he flails and splashed trying to break free of the plant’s grasp. you eventually release him just as you climb out of the water, wringing out your hair satisfied while minho slowly paddles towards you, defeated. you call upon a soft breeze to help dry the two of you off, and minho shivers at the cool air on his bare skin. you pass him his shirt (still damp from earlier) and he pulls it on, shaking the water out of his hair. you notice the goosebumps on his arm, so you pull him into you and wrap your arms around him.

“can we go watch the sunset?” you ask, looking up at him. the sky above you is mostly clear, with the occasional cloud scattered somewhere in the vast sea of blue.

“okay… but then i really have to go, my mom’ll want me back,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead. you both wave goodbye to chan, who seems to be preoccupied talking to some of the fish passing by in the creek. you and minho walk side by side through the forest, the fading sunlight making the woods grow slowly darker. you can hear the frogs begin to sing from the pond in the distance, and the air grows chillier by the minute.

~

“remember when you first moved in and came to the forest?” you ask minho. you’re curled up against him as the two of you sit up as high as you can safely climb in the tallest tree in the forest; you’ve bent the branches to support the two of you and make sure you can’t fall out—you’re fine, but you notice the way minho’s face pales and his heart rate picks up each time you climb the tree. the sun is a bright smear on the horizon, casting a golden glow on everything, and the sky is alight with pinks and blues and oranges. minho hums in response, thinking back fondly to when he’d startled you and you fell from the low branch you were on.

“yeah, i remember you cried and when your tears hit the ground they turned into little sprouts and i thought i was going crazy,” he says with a light laugh. “remember when i first showed you my ipod?” he asks, and in response you start singing the first song he ever showed you, belting out the lyrics as minho laughs and pulls you closer into him.

“remember our first kiss? it was in this very tree,” you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

“hmm..i don’t know, you’ll have to jog my memory,” minho says with a smirk before leaning in and gently placing his lips on yours. you can’t help but smile at how cheesy he is, and you rest your head on his shoulder after pulling away, sighing contentedly.

~

the last rays of sunlight fade away; the two of you watch a flock of geese cross the sky as the first stars start to appear in the sky. a shooting star streaks across the sky, and you gasp excitedly.

“minho! make a wish!”

“i don’t need to, i have everything i need right here,” he says with a wink; as cheesy and goofy as he is, your heart can’t help but melt at his words, and you realize he’s right; what more is there to wish for when you have the whole world right next to you.

~

requested by @skydivingstars (kesya ilysmmm!! thank you this was suPEr duper fun to write) <3

[aalissy]

A Forgotten Rose

Chapter 13 of Dreaming in Black and White. Sorry it took forever guys but I got sick blech. Hopefully this chapter makes up for it though. Also Chat Blanc killed me bc I just want my bebes to be happyyyyy. Lemme know what you think :)

AO3

Adrien’s first thought when he awoke that morning was of Marinette. Even Nathalie’s rapid knocks on his bedroom door couldn’t stop his heart from fluttering at the idea of seeing her later that day. Soon, however, that giddiness completely evaporated. He literally rejected her a week ago. God, why was he such an idiot? Marinette was amazing and super pretty. They could have shared a world of colors together if he had only said yes. A longing sigh escaped him as he imagined what that would be like. Groaning, Adrien buried his face into his pillow in an attempt to smother himself. Before he could do so, however, Nathalie entered the room, “Adrien, you need to get up. You have a photoshoot this morning, remember?”

Letting out a quiet whine, he turned his head to the side to give her a weak smile, “Thank you, Nathalie.”

She gave him a brisk nod before turning and heading out of his room. Sitting up, he scrubbed his face with his hands, blowing out a long breath of air. As Adrien made his way over to the bathroom, Plagg floated up from beneath his bed covers and followed him, “Well, somebody looks cheerful this morning,” he snickered sarcastically.

“Oh, shut up, Plagg,” he glared at his kwami.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you didn’t get with pigtails when you had the chance,” the small, black cat rolled his eyes at him, “In fact, may I remind you that I’ve been trying to tell you that you’ve been in love with her all along.”

“I know,” Adrien sighed as he got dressed, “I’m really just mad at myself for not realizing sooner.”

“I understand, kid,” Plagg nods before rubbing his belly, “Now would you get me some camembert, all this talk about love is making me hungry.”

Rolling his eyes at the gluttonous kwami, he spits out his toothpaste, wiping his mouth as he walks over to the supply of camembert. A sudden thought strikes him when he grabbed a piece of the stinky cheese and he turned to Plagg with wide, panicked eyes, “Plagg! What about Ladybug?!”

“What about her?” the small cat asked, his eyes completely focused on the cheese that was still in Adrien’s grip.

“How can I be in love with both Marinette and Ladybug?! Neither of them deserves that,” he ran a hand through his hair anxiously.

“My lips are sealed unless you give me that cheese,” Plagg said hungrily.

Adrien rolled his eyes before tossing the piece at the small cat. He watched in disgust as the whole piece was devoured in one bite, “Ugh, Plagg you’re incorrigible.”

The kwami merely grinned mischievously before taking on a more serious look, “Well if we’re being honest kid, only one of them has ever shown any interest in you.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” his brow furrowed, “Thanks for the talk, Plagg,” Adrien murmured before making his way downstairs.

“You’re welcome,” he beamed before diving into the boy’s front pocket.

Trudging into his dining room with a loud yawn, Adrien practically collapsed on the chair by his freshly-made breakfast. For the first time, the early morning hour hit him and he was struck by a wave of exhaustion. Scarfing down the small breakfast in front of him he downed his orange juice in one gulp. Chewing on his avocado toast, the model contemplated exactly what he was going to say to Marinette. 

As though sensing exactly when he had finished, Nathalie arrived into the dining room, “Are you finished with your meal?” she looked down at his empty plate with a quirked eyebrow. Adrien nodded at her, his lips quirking into a slight smirk before she handed him a slip of paper, “Good. Your driver is ready to take you to your photoshoot then,” the assistant turned and briskly walked out of the room as he followed along behind her, shooting one last, longing glance at his bedroom upstairs. 

I could be in bed sleeping right now, he thought forlornly.

As he slid into one of the plush leather seats of the limo outside, Nathalie turned to him with an expectant look, “The shoot should only take about 30 minutes, so don’t worry about being late for class.”

“I understand,” Adrien nodded before muttering quietly, “Besides, father would never let me be late for school.”

“What was that Adrien?” her eyes narrowed at him suspiciously.

He merely smiled at her innocently, “Nothing. Just wondering what class will be like today.”

Nathalie nodded at him before turning to her notes, leaving him to contemplate his thoughts to himself. Turning to gaze out at the colorless world from his window, his thoughts drifted to Marinette and how he was going to apologize to her. Sighing, Adrien rested his chin on his hand, vainly hoping that there was a way to salvage their relationship.

And perhaps add something more to it, a small, nagging voice taunted him, causing a red flush to light up his cheeks. Stop that! You ruined any chance you had with Marinette and you know it, he berated himself.

Soon, his limo had pulled up to the park where his photoshoot was getting set up. Directly after he stepped out of the car, he was immediately rushed into hair and make-up. Once again, Adrien’s thoughts drifted over to a certain designer and he wished that she were here instead. The usual long, boring process of hair and make-up passed rather quickly as he imagined Marinette’s hands fixing his hair and applying his bronzer. Eventually, he was snapped out of his daydreams as they finished up and hurried him outside. 

Vincent stood there with a large grin as he neared the fountain, “Adrien! You look fantastico! It is amazing to see you once again.”

The model chuckled at the eccentric photographer, “You as well, Vincent. It’s been a while since I’ve had a photoshoot.”

“I hope you haven’t forgotten everything, then,” he winked at the boy in front of him before toying with his camera, “Now I’m going to need looks of passion and awe from you, think you can do that?”

Adrien bit his lip, a small, shy smile spreading across his face as he nodded at the photographer, “Yeah, I think I can.”

I don’t think it’ll be too hard to look like that when I can barely stop myself from thinking of Marinette.

Leaning back, Adrien imagined just what it would feel like to be the designer’s boyfriend. A feeling of intense longing welled up from within him as he wondered what it would have been like had he accepted her feelings from the beginning. His fingers tightened around nothing as he envisioned holding Marinette’s hand and pulling her in for a sweet kiss. A small sigh left his lips as he imagined the colors they could have shared together.

As expected, the photographer gasped as he began snapping shot after shot, “Perfetto! Magnifico!” 

It was easy coming up with the looks that Vincent continuously shouted at him as he daydreamed about the adorable designer. In fact, it was almost too easy picturing Marinette as his girlfriend. With shocking clarity, Adrien realized that this was not the first time he had done this. He had thought about her multiple times during photoshoots, especially when she was right across from him when he invited her to come watch after the battle with Troublemaker. His eyes strayed over to her usual position longingly and, for a second, it almost seemed as though she were there, smiling cheerfully over at him. The model’s fists clenched together tightly with anger and bitterness. Had I just realized sooner none of this would have happened, he thought to himself furiously.

“No! No!” Vincent’s voice broke through Adrien’s sullen musings, “That is the expression of a boy who has just received a bowl of limp noodles! I want to see a look a bowl full of spaghetti inspires!”

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck nervously, “It won’t happen again,” Adrien assured before shaking off the angry thoughts. 

The rest of the photoshoot passed rather quickly with Vincent shouting out small words of encouragement and inspiration for poses. When the thirty minutes were up, Nathalie quickly hurried him into the limo, “You did very well today, Adrien. Vincent tells me that this was some of your best work,” she said as she looked through her notes.

The boy blinked at her in surprise for a moment, “Really? Wow, I’m glad.”

“Just make certain that you do just as well in the photoshoot after school today,” she shot him a pointed glance before turning back to their notes. 

Adrien gulped quietly, nodding at her before turning to face the window. His stomach tightened into knots as they slowly neared the school. Running over exactly what he had planned to say to the girl that had taken over his thoughts for most of the day, he placed his hand over the door handle. When they slowed to a stop in front of the entrance, he quickly bolted out of the car, eagerly running straight to class. Adrien’s eyes immediately shot straight to Marinette’s seat and his heart sank in disappointment when he realized it was empty.

Damn, I was really hoping to talk to her before class today, he thought to himself, his lips pursing in slight annoyance as he slid into his seat.

As the minutes ticked ever nearer, and more and more students entered the classroom, Adrien’s stomach continued to tighten anxiously. When his best friend, Nino, arrived he attempted to make light conversation with him, yet his eyes were continuously drawn to the door whenever it opened.

“You waiting for someone, dude?” Nino quirked an eyebrow at him after his eyes strayed for the fifth time.

A light flush brushed across his cheeks as he realized he was caught. With an awkward chuckle, he rubbed the back of his neck nervously, “Yeah. I ran out on Marinette during our project last night and I wanted to apologize.”

“Because of your dad?” the DJ gave him an understanding nod, clapping a hand to his shoulder sympathetically.

“Yeah,” Adrien winced slightly, a guilty feeling gnawing at his insides.

Nino merely smiled widely, squeezing his shoulder, “Ah, well you know Marinette! If she’s two minutes late, she’s five minutes early, and besides, it is Marinette we’re talking about! You’re probably already forgiven, dude!”

“I guess,” he mumbled, glanced down at his notebook awkwardly. The sound of the bell jolted him out of his dreary thoughts and he quickly focused on Mlle. Bustiers’ lesson. 

Rather soon afterwards, Marinette stumbled her way into the classroom, apologizing profusely before rushing over to her seat. Adrien watched her sit down with an adoring smile on his face. His previous feelings of anxiousness completely disappeared into a wave of butterflies from her presence alone.

After Mlle. Bustier turned around once again to continue their lesson, he felt a small tap on his shoulder. Turning around, he was met with Marinette’s beaming, adorable face as she smiled down at him, “I was hoping you’d be in class today because I made you this,” she whispered, pulling out a bag and handing it over to him, “Are you feeling better after yesterday?”

Adrien nodded dumbly at her for a moment before he snapped out of his stupor, taking the bag from her with a purposeful brush of their fingers. He reached inside and grabbed a perfect-looking croissant out, “Thank you, Marinette,” he murmured breathily back.

“It’s no problem at all!” her grin grew wider, “I just hope that it’s still warm! I rushed over here as fast as I could,” she nibbled lightly on her lip.

“I’m certain that it’s perfect, Marinette,” he whispered back at her, quickly turning around before they could get caught. Adrien immediately bit into his croissant, letting the savory flavor explode on his tongue. The warmth from the pastry mixed perfectly well with the light layer of butter and he practically devoured the treat. He gave Marinette a quick thumbs-up and a beaming grin before facing Mlle. Bustier once again.

For the first time in his life, the model realized that sitting in front of Marinette was the worst thing ever. He practically ached with the need to turn around and stare at the girl as she worked. Luckily, Adrien managed to sneak a few peeks at the girl behind him and watch her tongue stick out in utter concentration as she took notes. However, these looks did not go unnoticed by Alya who raised her eyebrows at him smugly. The model merely gave her a shaky smile, shrugging with a faint blush spreading across his cheeks before turning back to his notes.

When the bell finally rang at the end of his last class, Adrien packed his things eagerly, hoping to meet Marinette outside and exchange a few words with her before going to his photoshoot. 

And maybe have a chance to discuss the current status of your relationship, a sly voice snickered from inside him.

Brushing the voice off, Adrien quickly hurried outside, scanning the grounds for Marinette. Though he was unable to find her, his limo was already nearing the school’s entrance. Huffing out a breath of air angrily, he waved goodbye to Nino and trudged over to the car. With a tired smile at the Gorilla, he slid into his seat with a quiet sigh. Adrien’s eyes glanced over at the empty seat next to him, wishing futilely that Marinette was here and that they were going to her house to study instead of the park for another shoot. 

Instead of Marinette, however, Nathalie slid into the empty seat, giving him a polite nod, “Good afternoon, Adrien.”

“Good afternoon, Nathalie,” he gave her a tired smile in response.

“I trust you already know that you have a photoshoot in twenty minutes?”

The model nodded, “Yes, Nathalie. Thank you for reminding me, though.”

“You’re welcome, Adrien,” she said curtly, “It shouldn’t take long if you do as well tonight as you did this morning.”

“Let’s hope so,” Adrien murmured, leaning his head back against the headrest as his eyes fluttered closed. It didn’t take long before they arrived, and his peace was interrupted as he was whisked into hair and make-up. Only light touches needed to be reapplied to his face and hair before he was placed back in front of the camera.

What a great day today was, he thought to himself bitterly, I barely got to talk to Marinette and these photoshoots are just the worst.

Placing his usual, model smile on his face he tried to get through the photoshoot as quickly as he could. When they were nearly wrapping up, his eyes were drawn to a lone figure on a bench nearby who was staring up at the sky. It took a few seconds before he realized that it was Marinette and his eyes lit up in excitement, “Uh, Vincent, would you um, mind if we stopped early?”

“Hmm, give me just a few more pictures in a new pose and I bet I will have enough to wrap up here,” he beamed at him, “But make them count, Monsieur Agreste.”

Adrien nodded eagerly, puffing out his chest with a confident smile as he continually glanced over at the bench to check on Marinette, vainly hoping that she might spot them. Within a few more pictures, Vincent let out a happy cry and let Adrien go.

With a thankful smile at his photographer, he slowly walked over to the girl who was clearly sketching a new design. Gulping nervously to himself, he tapped on her shoulder watching her look up at him startled, “You making a new outfit?” the model grinned down at her.

“Oh, Adrien! I didn’t know you were here!” Marinette looked him up and down which caused his face to turn a deep red. He practically squealed in his head, feeling his heart beat faster as her gaze returned to his face with a curious smile, “You look different. You had a photoshoot after school today, right?”

“Yeah, I did,” Adrien sat next to her, letting his foot rest against her own, as he preened slightly for her, “What do you think?”

Marinette giggled, shaking her head at him with a roll of her eyes, “You look great, Adrien. Though I suspect you already know this.”

“Yeah but your opinion is the only one that matters to me,” he poked her side teasingly.

Her mouth dropped open into a cute expression of surprise before her brow furrowed and she gave him a strange look, “Really?”

“Y-yeah because you’re a fashion designer and everything,” Adrien chuckled at her nervously, scratching the back of his neck. And because I want to look good for you, he added to himself silently.

“Mhm,” Marinette hummed before returning to her sketch.

He leaned closer to look at the design, breathing in a deep breath full of cinnamon and cookies, “So, like I was saying before, what are you working on?”

Her lips slowly spread into a wide smile and damn if he didn’t want to kiss that look right off her face. Marinette’s eyes shot up to the sky for a moment before returning to his gaze, “I got really inspired by the sky yesterday so I was making a new dress. Do you wanna see?”

“Of course!” Adrien used the excuse to shuffle closer, letting his arm bump against her own, feeling a trail of warmth run along his arm with the movement. He gazed down at the pretty, poofy dress and imagined how beautiful she would look in it, “Wow, Marinette, that looks amazing!” he breathed out.

“You really think so?” she bit her lip shyly as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes.

He nodded quickly to assure her, “Oh definitely! You know I think your designs are just the greatest!” Adrien took a deep gulp of air before continuing, “And I think you would look amaz-”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was cut off by a throat clearing in front of them. He looked up to see Nathalie glaring down at the two of them, tapping her heels in the ground impatiently, “I heard from Vincent that you left the photoshoot early. Is that true, Adrien?”

His brow furrowed as he leaned away from Marinette, “Well yes but-”

“Your father is going to be extremely disappointed to hear this, Adrien. You know that if you finish early you’re to head straight home,” her angry glare chilled him and he shrank back from her slightly.

Before he could open his mouth to explain, Marinette stood up with a remorseful smile, “I’m so sorry, Mlle. Sancouer. This is all my fault,” she paused to take in a deep breath of air, “You see after Adrien went home early from our group project, I asked him if he would be able to get out of one of his photoshoots early and come meet with me. I had a few more questions to ask him and I honestly didn’t realize it would be so important, considering he had two shoots today.”

“Is this true, Adrien?” Nathalie turned to look at him as he stared up at Marinette in awe.

“Hmm?” his head snapped to hers at the sound of his name before he stood up, nodding sadly, “Yeah, I’m really sorry Nathalie. I honestly didn’t realize it was going to take up so much time.”

She gave them a brisk nod, “Then that is acceptable. However, next time tell me so that this does not happen in the future. Finish discussing the state of your project soon and then come to the limo so that we can head home,” with that, she turned and strode away from the two teens.

“I can’t thank you enough, Marinette,” Adrien reached out for her hand, giving it a quick squeeze.

 “Don’t mention it, Adrien,” she smiled at him, “I just didn’t want to see you get in trouble over nothing.”

She’s absolutely amazing, he thought to himself with awe, How come I never noticed that before?!

“Still, thank you so much, Marinette. You have no idea how much trouble you’ve just saved me from. Where did you learn how to do that?”

She giggled sweetly before nodding over his shoulder, “Let's just say I've gotten good at coming up with excuses recently. Now, you had better go before you get in trouble again. I don’t know how many excuses Nathalie will accept before you really do get in trouble.”

Giving her hand one last squeeze, Adrien let go of her reluctantly. Staring down into her beautiful, sparkling eyes he made the quick decision to lean down and peck her cheek, “See you tomorrow, Marinette,” he whispered in her ear before swiftly dashing off towards the car.

He sighed dreamily after sitting down in one of the comfy seats, causing Nathalie to look at him curiously, “Did you finish answering all of her questions regarding the assignment?”

“Yeah, yeah I did,” Adrien nodded dumbly, still staring off into space as he envisioned himself stealing Marinette’s lips in a kiss instead of just her cheek. Continuing down that line of thought he barely even realized that they had arrived home until Nathalie shut the car door loudly. Snapping out of his daydreams, he practically floated his way up to his bedroom before falling onto his bed with a loud sigh.

“Feeling any better, lover boy?” Plagg snickered down at him.

“Mhm,” he hummed happily, “Did you hear the way she stood up for me, Plagg? God, she’s perfect!”

His kwami merely rolled his eyes at him, “Are you going to be like this all the time now, Adrien? I don’t know how much of this I’ll be able to handle.”

“Just wait until we get married and have three kids and a little pet hamster,” Adrien sighed loudly, “I’ll be absolutely insufferable by then.”

“Yuck, all this talk about love is making me sick. Got any cheese to make up for it?” Plagg asked hopefully. The model nodded his head before getting up and tossing the black cat a piece from his stash. The kwami’s eyes narrowed in suspicion as he ate the slice of camembert, “Huh, that was easy. Usually, you put up more of a fight before giving me my cheese.”

Ignoring the kwami, Adrien shook his head, “I have to confess, Plagg. I don’t know how much longer I can stand not being with her. Especially with how amazing and beautiful she is.”

The small, black cat chuckled, “I can’t wait to see how that’ll go seeing how you rejected her about a week ago.”

His eyes took on a mischievous twinkle as he smiled at Plagg, “Adrien rejected her, Plagg. I know someone else who didn't. Someone she’s also confessed too,” he shook the hand containing his ring in front of his kwami’s face with a smug smile.

“No, no, no!” the small cat begged, “Let’s not be hasty here kid and just wai-”

“Plagg claws out!” Adrien interrupted the kwami’s pleadings as he felt the energy rush through his bones. 

With an excited bounce to his step, Chat Noir immediately leapt out the window. Taking off into the night, he felt the wind ruffle his hair as he scanned the ground for what he needed. It didn’t take long before he spotted it, and he quickly and neatly landed next to the rose bush. The superhero searched the bush for the perfect flower before he finally found it, plucking the delicate rose from where it was hidden within the leaves. Carefully slicing the thorns with his claws he tucked the flower behind his belt before he took off for Marinette’s house. 

Rehearsing exactly what he was going to say to her in his confession, Chat prayed that he wouldn’t freeze up in her presence and forget everything. Butterflies fluttered happily within his stomach as he neared her balcony and he took in a huge gulp of breath. Landing right next to the trapdoor, he reached out to knock on the hatch before pausing, “You can do this, Chat,” he whispered to himself nervously as he began pacing, “It’s just Marinette. You know her and it’s never been hard to talk to her before.”

With those last encouraging words, he ran a hand through his hair anxiously before leaning down and quickly knocking on the small trapdoor. Chat’s hand went behind his back to reassure himself that the rose was still there. As he heard movement from down below, he clutched the flower in his grasp tighter.

Within a few moments, Marinette’s bright face grinned up at him in a wonderful beam, “Chaton!” she jumped up and tackled him into a giant embrace.

He stumbled back from the force of her hug and almost lost his grip on the rose. Holding onto the flower tightly with one hand he used the other to snuggle deeper into the girl’s embrace. Her warmth sent delicate shivers up his spine, lighting his body on fire before he leaned back to look down at her.

“I have news!” they both blurted out at the same time.

Giggling, Marinette gestures at him, “You go first. What do you need to tell me?”

Taking a deep breath, Chat holds onto the rose tighter, “Well,” he drags out before he’s cut off by the designer.

“Did you know that the sky is blue?” she practically squeals, biting her lower lip with barely contained excitement.

“W-what?” he breathed out, his grip loosening around the rose.

“Luka asked me out yesterday!” she practically shouts, bouncing with joy.

His mouth drops and his heart tumbles along after it, “O-oh and is he your...?” he trailed off, unable to finish the question.

“He’s my soulmate!” Marinette shouts, “I can see blue!” she sings, capturing him in another tight hug.

A long rush of air escapes Chat’s lungs and he can barely manage to stand as his legs buckle uselessly. His grip on the rose is completely lost and it falls off the balcony’s edge, tumbling down to the street below. He forces himself to bring his arms up to hug Marinette back as she continues to squeal about colors.

“It’s just absolutely insane being able to see color!! Blue’s just so beautiful! Did you know that both my hair and eyes are blue?!” 

“I-I’m so happy for you Marinette,” he manages to choke out, trying to stop the rush of tears that are threatening to fall.

She pulls back out of his embrace and Chat attempts to rearrange his face back into a smile, though he’s certain it comes off as more of a grimace. Marinette blinks at him for a moment before grinning softly, “Anyway, enough about me. What about you?! What was your news?”

“Oh n-nothing,” he stutters slightly, backing away from her slowly, “I just wanted to see how you were doing. It looks like you’re doing well, and um, I just remembered that... I need to go now... I have something I need to do. I’m really sorry.”

Her brow furrows as her head tilts to the side in confusion, “O-oh, okay. Are you sure?”

“Yep,” Chat choked out before turning to go.

“Wait, Chaton,” her hand shot out to grip his wrist, turning him back around to face her, “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” he barely manages to give her a wobbly smile.

Her grip loosens yet her frown deepens, “Alright. I’ll see you soon though, right?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” the superhero nods and Marinette lets go completely, allowing him to jump off her balcony and run straight back home.

“That was weird,” she mumbled to herself, watching him go until he’s entirely out of sight. Shivering slightly, the designer turns and heads back to the warmth of her bedroom.

As he runs from rooftop to rooftop, Chat is unable to stop the tears that leak from his eyes and drop onto the tiles. His vision blurs and he works on muscle memory alone to get home, his mind empty and his emotions numb until he finally bursts through his window. Releasing his transformation, Adrien collapses onto his bed with a quiet sob. He buries his face within a pillow and lets the bitter tears stain the soft surface.

“Kid?” his kwami’s voice pipes up from above him, “You alright?”

“No, no I’m not Plagg,” his head whips up as he looks at the small, black cat, “I ruined my chances with both Marinette and Ladybug. I can’t believe I even thought I still had a shot with her. Especially when I knew that both Marinette and Luka liked each other. Th-this is all my fault,” he sniffled.

“No, it’s not Adrien,” Plagg shakes his head at him before hugging the boy’s shoulder, “It’s no one’s fault.”

“You don’t understand. I could have had Marinette a week ago and I let her go. I let her run straight into Luka’s arms,” another choked sob wracked through Adrien’s body before he clenched his eyes shut tight.

His kwami snuggled further into his arm, “Want me to go cataclysm him?

A bitter laugh escaped him before he could stop it, “No, Plagg. Luka’s my friend and I don’t want to see him or Marinette get hurt.”

“You sure? I can make it so he just loses a rib or two,” the small cat snickered, leaning back, “A few broken bones won’t hurt, I promise.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Adrien says with a chuckle before hugging his kwami tightly, “Thank you, Plagg, you always know how to cheer me up.”

“Someone’s gotta keep you from getting akumatized,” Plagg squirmed out of his embrace before flopping to the bed uselessly, “Besides I also need cheese and you’re my only supplier.”

Adrien merely rolls his eyes, getting up with one last sniffle before going over to his kwami’s stash and handing him two pieces of the delicious substance. He heard Plagg scarf down the camembert quickly as he dragged himself to the bathroom to change into his pajamas. Quickly changing into the warm, comfy material he dove back into the bed where he struggled to fall asleep.

[sxfik]

hi hi hi it’s really late, but if u ever get around to it can you write a fic where Iseult and aeduan go out somewhere and leave owl for Safiya and Merik to babysit?

Just like how Flynn loved Rapunzel

a/n: okay i took some creative liberty and made this a modern au with a much younger owl, i hope you don’t mind! apologies in advanced if they are ooc bc i literally wrote this right at 12 when i saw your prompt bc i have had so many ideas for this! enjoy!

“Oh, and make sure to not give her anything sweets an hour before her bedtime! There’s mac and cheese that I made earlier to eat for dinner. And don’t forget to —“

“Don’t worry, don’t worry, we got this. It’s not our first time taking care of her you know? It’ll all be well Iz, just enjoy your time with Aeduan,” Safi cut her off with a chuckle and spinning her around softly, pushing her into the living room of Aeduan and Iseult’s shared apartment. Iseult fiddled with her necklace and bit her lip as she racked her brain for last minute reminders but Safi was having none of it. “All will be well, plus it’s Merik and I taking care of her so we have two pairs of eyes on her. Also, you look stunning in that dress and you deserve a break to spend time with your boyfriend.” she reassured her sister as she adjusted Iseult’s necklace which lay off center with her constant fidgeting.

Iseult relaxed as Aeduan came up and slipped a strong arm around her, supporting her as she leaned into his warmth. Safi gave her a soft smile as Aeduan guided Iseult out of their apartment. Iseult had changed after Aeduan and Owl came into her life. Safi saw her sister’s careful expressions and rough edges smoothen out and her sister was relaxed when she was around them. The biggest change was how much Iseult cared for Owl, practically becoming her mother and both Aeduan and Iseult became the kind of parents that Safi wishes she had when she was a child. Snapping out her thoughts, she waved goodbye to the couple when a familiar someone pokes their head into the doorframe.

“Is she awake?” Merik asked as he glided past Safi and she closed the door behind them. She looked up at the man, his head turned in the direction of Owl’s bedroom with eager, excited expression. His hair flopped down a bit, looking like soft clouds as his hair was slightly curling. He was wearing black jeans and a dark blue sweater that complimented his hazel eyes. In his hands, he held a bag of what looked like all the Disney movies he owned.

“I haven’t checked on her yet, they just left before you came in” she whispered back, and he looked back at her beaming, excited to see Owl. Although Merik was Mr. Grumpy most of the time, Owl softened his demeanor like anything. “Did you bring the movies?” she asked him.

“Yeah, I did. I brought three: Moana, Tangled and the Little Mermaid. I bet she’ll pick the Little Mermaid today” Merik said, as a smirk spread across his face, his eyes dancing with mischief as if begging her to challenge him. And of course, she wouldn’t be Safiya if she didn’t.

“No way, she’ll totally pick Tangled. That movie is such a classic” she challenged, smiling up at him, both of their bodies moving towards each other unknowingly.

“Wanna make it a bet?” Merik’s voice got deeper as he stepped closer to her, close enough for his warm breath to fan her face. Her face flushed as his eyes kept darting down to her lips, his free hand caressing her jaw as her face leans into the warmth.

But, they suddenly break apart hearing a giggle coming from Owl’s room. They shared a look as the both of them crept down to Owl’s room as quietly as possible, intending to surprise her. Safi opened Owl’s bedroom door, spotting the little girl serving tea to her teddy bear and dolls that were elegantly placed in the three chairs surrounding the blue table and giggling, making lively conversation between her stuffed animals. Merik hides behind her even though Safi wasn’t tall enough to mask all of him.

“Owl, look who’s here to visit!” Safi announced to her, the little girl’s head looking back to where she’s standing.

“Hiya Princess,” Merik poked his head out from behind Safi as he greeted the four year old, hiding the movies behind him.

“Pwince Mewick!” Owl’s eyes widened as a smile stretched across her face and she raced to hug him. Merik stepped out from behind Safi to greet his princess. He bowed to her with a flourish and kissed the back of her hand as Owl blushed.

“I brought gifts, milady,” he pulled out the three Disney movies from behind him as Owl grinned up at him. “We can watch The Little Mermaid, Tangled or Moana! Which one would you like to watch today, fair princess?” he asked her as Safi watched the interaction with a soft smile, shaking her head. God, all it took was one look from Owl and he turned from Mr. Grump to her ‘pwince mewick’ in no time. Merik glanced up at Safi with a side smirk and Safi met his gaze head on, not backing down.

“I want to see Tangled! Sawfi, let’s see Tangled!” The little girl bounced around as a grin spread across Safi’s face, gloating her victory over Merik silently. Merik sticks his tongue out at her playfully as the little girl skipped out of her bedroom. Safi was about to follow suit until Merik grabbed her hand and leaned close to her ear, whispering “You might have won this round, my darling but you won’t win the next.” She breathed in and held it as goosebumps flared and her heart rate quickened at his sudden closeness. It’s shocking, even after a year of being together how much he can affect her. Merik smirked as he slid past her following Owl into the living room, leaving her momentarily stunned.

Merik made popcorn in the kitchen as Safi set up the movie with Owl sitting on the brown couch facing the TV. Her legs barely touched the floor as she swung them, waiting for the movie to start. Safi and Merik sat on either side of her and settled in, passing the popcorn from person to person.

An hour in, Merik turned his head to Safi to realize she’s dozing off. And since Owl’s attentively watching the TV, Merik takes his time to attentively watch Safi. She has the prettiest face he’s ever seen with mischievous eyes and soft lips and her long blonde hair that frames her face so perfectly. But most of all, she ignited a fire in him, and challenges him, his morals and everything he thinks is right. Around her, he can relax, and he can lay out all his insecurities in front of her and she won’t judge. Actually, she will judge but she shows him such love and kindness he’s never gotten from anyone else. Her head tips slightly onto the side away from him and her blonde hair falls suit. Merik studies her face as her lips slightly part, the sleep causing her to relax. He wants to cup her face and hold her so close to him and not let go.

“Do you wuv your pwincess?” Owl peers up at him with wide eyes and a tilted head as Merik snaps out of his daydreaming.

“Of course I love you, milady!” Merik replies with an easy smile. But the little girl shakes her head as if the answer is not enough for her.

“No, do you love pwincess safwi? Like how he loves Rapwunzel?” she gestures to the screen showing the scene where Flynn Rider is gazing at Rapunzel while she looks out at the floating lanterns with flowers in her hair. Merik looks back at Safi and smiles softly.

“Yeah I do love her. Just like how Flynn loves Rapunzel,” his voice, soft as he looks at Safi. Owl looks up at him, satisfied with his answer and goes back to watching the movie.

The movie finishes and Safi is still asleep on the couch so Merik decides to give dinner to Owl and get her into bed since it’s so close to her bedtime. Of course, he doesn’t drop his character around her, opening doors for her, calling her names until Owl is all tucked in and had a story read to her. Once he’s sure she’s asleep, he pads his way back down the hallway, back to awaken Safi so she can have some dinner and to make sure she doesn’t wake up cranky and hungry the next morning. “Safi, darling, wake up. You need to eat something.” He settles down next to her, softly nudging her and shaking her awake. Safi shifts, her head now upright and she cracks her eyes open and stretches. She frowns, upset for the awakening but then realizes her surroundings and turns toward him.

“Hm, Prince Merik, what an honor to have you wake me up.” she teased, her voice slightly throaty because of sleep and disuse. Safi smiles at him softly and it’s like every charming line he had was tossed out of his brain. Merik lifted a hand to cup her face, to tuck a stray golden piece of hair behind her ear and his fingers continue tracing her jaw, not wanting to let go.

He shifted closer as he quipped back “Well darling, other than waking you up, I have come here to declare my victory. Since I tucked in Owl today, I got her special goodnight message.” Realization struck Safi and she cursed under breath. Damn it, Owl’s special goodnight message is the best. The little girl gives you the tightest hug she possibly can before she climbs into bed and says in the softest voice “I love you.” It was the ultimate win. Safi grumbled and frowned as Merik chuckled, leaning in closer. “It’s okay, just admit it, I’m the ultimate prince and I won” his voice whispered as he grew closer and closer.

“No way.” She leaned in, her eyes almost closed.

“Admit it.” His hands held her face gently, tilting it up towards him as his eyes darted down to her lips.

“Never.” she breathed out, as Merik’s lips crashed into her. His lips were soft against hers as their bodies shifted closer towards each other. His arm snaked around her waist as his other hand was still cupping her face. Safi’s arms were around his neck, drawing him impossibly close, kissing until they needed a breath. Safi drew away from him, breathing in a shaky breath, lips red and swollen from kissing for so long.

“You win.”

Taglist: @lseultdetmidenzi @shiencystuff (for some reason @un-empressed isn’t showing up as a blog)

[theaceace]

I call this - what if Aziraphale hadn’t managed to find a body in time for the apocalypse, AKA I wanted an excuse to make Crowley sad and drunk. There is a happy ending, which I will get around to writing soon. Ish.

Thank you to @i-swear-this-is-for-homework for listening to me ramble. At some point I’ll clean this up and put it on AO3, but today is not that day, it’s already late enough.

Follows book continuity closer than the series. 

Enjoy?

Aziraphale had been discorporated before, of course. One didn’t have a physical form for six thousand years without accumulating a little wear-and-tear1, or scratches in the paint, so to speak. It had, however, been a remarkably long time since his last jaunt through the metaphysical. Only ninety short years2 after he had turned his back on the Garden of Eden for the last time, Aziraphale had rather unfortunately found himself on the wrong end of an extremely unpleasant man with an extremely sharp dagger. Not yet knowing what would happen to him, he hadn’t thought to counter the attack, or even so much as move out of the way; after all, this was no weapon of divine or infernal design.

 So he had been in for a rather nasty shock when he found himself face-to-face with Heaven’s quartermaster and the prospect of filling out innumerable forms3 and joining a thankfully short waiting list before he could be assigned a new body.

 It had been enough to put him off the whole experience, and as such, he had endeavoured to avoid it at all costs in subsequent years.

 He had done a commendable job of it, all told. There had been a couple of instances that had required a little last-minute intervention of demonic origin, but he tried not to dwell on those too much. Not, to be clear, because he felt it was a sign of personal failure, but rather because the memory tended to give him the ethereal equivalent of heart palpitations.

 This instance had been somewhat different – for a start, the only violence had been in the form of a remarkably irate witchfinder bellowing nonsense and waving his finger around. For another, though Aziraphale had found himself unexpectedly flung from his physical form, there had been no real harm done to it4 which made for a nice change. That had been several hours and four continents ago. Now, Aziraphale was starting to feel really quite exhausted.

 It ought not to have been possible, he thought glumly to himself. After all, exhaustion was, by definition, something that happened on the material plane. Cells didn’t have enough energy or something – he’d never bothered himself with the particulars, as he’d never considered any scenario that it might apply to him. Really it should have been impossible for angels to get tired. They were fonts of divine energy, beings that existed on an utterly separate level from the concept of exhaustion.

 And yet, here he was, wherever that may be now. Exhausted. Incorporeal. No idea how much time had passed since he’d stepped into the circle, and therefore no idea just how long the world had left before it all went a bit explodey.

 As a matter of fact, though he didn’t know it at that precise moment, the world had been due some explosions approximately twelve minutes earlier, right around the time he had decided to do the metaphysical equivalent of tucking up his feet on the sofa and dozing in front of Springwatch with a cup of tea tilting precariously in his hand. He had hoped that this would go some way to restoring him to the point that he could continue looking for a suitable body to inhabit that was both receptive and at least in the same country as the antichrist.

 So far it didn’t appear to be making much of a difference, but Aziraphale was persevering nonetheless.

 He was persevering so hard, in fact, that it took him what may have been a small eternity – but was probably closer to a few seconds – to notice that he was no longer alone in the space between dimensions.

 Being that the other entity also lacked a body, and didn’t appear to be an angel, demon, or Crowley, Aziraphale was rather thrown by this.

 “Um. Hello,” he said5 finally. He didn’t really know what else to do.

 “Hullo,” said the being, in what might have been a curious voice if he had a voice, and Aziraphale had ears capable of discerning a curious tone. “What are you doing stuck all the way out here then?”

 “Ah,” said Aziraphale, in a pale imitation of his usual bluster. He found himself wishing rather desperately that he had hands with which to fuss shirt cuffs, and a throat to clear. “Well you see, that’s a rather long story, and I’m afraid we may be on something of a tight schedule – at least, I think we are, it’s rather hard to tell, but I would hope that even like this I might have noticed if things had, er, got under way.”

 “No, it’s okay, we’ve got time,” said the being. “But I think I probably know most of it already, and it’s just boring if you hafta hear the same story twice so close together. Are you Aziraphale then? ‘Cause if you’re not then I really think you should just tell me now. I’ve already got a lotta work to do, and I really do need to find this Aziraphale person. Angel. Angel-person – sorry, that’s not rude, is it?”

 “I – well, no, I don’t believe so,” Aziraphale said. He contemplated lying to the being for just a moment, but some deeply-held instinct told him just what a bad idea that would be. “And yes, I am Aziraphale.”

 “Oh, good,” this time, Aziraphale was swamped with an impression of relief. “It really would’a been a pain if I’d ‘ad to go ‘round looking for you everywhere and when.”

 “Um,” Aziraphale said blankly. He tried to take a moment to rally himself, and failed miserably. “To, to whom am I speaking?”

 “’m Adam Young,” said the voice, apparently oblivious to the tailspin this sent Aziraphale’s poor, racing mind into. “And I think you’re last on my list of things to get sorted out. First I thought I could just put you back the way you was and that’d be jus’ fine, but then I reckon’d I should probably come get you sorted m’self. ‘s tricky trying to get someone back in a body that dun’t exist when they’re not even in the right place for bodies to be.”

 “I see,” Aziraphale said faintly; he was suddenly, acutely aware of the fact that he was speaking currently to the antichrist, a being that could theoretically wipe him from this and every other plane of existence6.

 “An’ then I thought it’d be rude if I just went and stuck you back in the same body as you had, an’ din’t even ask if that body was okay for you,” Adam continued, and he somehow managed to give the impression of a wide-eyed, if not entirely earnest, stare. This was impressive given that he had no body, no eyes to widen, and no actual voice to give any sort of inflection. Aziraphale would no doubt spend a great deal of time later being appropriately impressed, when he was no longer trying to metaphysically hyperventilate.

 “Yes, yes I was rather fond of it,” Aziraphale managed. In that precise moment, he wouldn’t have been able to tell you if that was the truth or not7. He only knew that he really didn’t want to be putting in any special requests for a new body to the antichrist, who had, as far as he was able to tell, not made the world go all explodey.

 “Oh,” said Adam in something like relief. “Tha’s good. Easy, I mean. I’ll hafta drop you off where you were, though. Jus’ gimme a sec, I’ll get you all fixed up proper.”

 And it was so.

 Aziraphale opened his eyes and took a deep, unnecessary breath. He patted his hands over his coat, and tried to twist himself around to see that everything was present and correct. He thought that perhaps his coat was a little longer, his sweater a little more fitted, but it was really quite hard to tell in a body that was still relearning what synapses were.

 He turned slowly, but there was no sign of Adam – not even a lingering hint of ozone to suggest he had ever been there. He then continued turning, struck by the sudden realisation that he had no idea where on God’s green Earth he was.

 “Oh,” he said, followed swiftly by a word that may have been inappropriate in polite company – but, if there is no polite company to hear an inappropriate word fall in a forest, who’s to say if it made a sound?8

 *****

1 – In that particular instance, it had been rather more tear than wear

2 – Give or take. Functioning calendars had only existed for sixty of those years

3 – Literally – humans hadn’t invented numbers that could count that high yet

4 – Aside from the unfortunate dissembling down to the molecular level

5 – He did not speak as you or I might speak, as he lacked the mouth necessary to do so. He did not even speak as you or I might imagine a formless denizen of Heaven would speak. To properly explain how he spoke would require a number of PhDs that don’t exist on Earth and an in-depth understanding of the wavelengths that angels generally occupy outside the range of human perception, of which this author has neither

6 – He was also rapidly coming to terms with the fact that he had listed ‘child murder’ as one of the possible solutions to the problems the day had presented. Very low down the list, mind you, but still certainly present

7 – It was

8 – It did

 *****

The world had been restored for thirteen hours, and a lone demon had been drinking solidly for twelve of them. The first hour had been dedicated to transporting himself back to London, or it would have been a solid thirteen.

 Crowley couldn’t remember the last time he had been this drunk. It might have been in what would later become Croatia, in 1132 BC. It may have been just after the Library of Alexandria – ahem – was destroyed. It might have been sometime in the First World War1.

 Certainly, he thought, staring at the empty bottle in his hand with something a little like betrayal, he had never been this drunk on his own.

 And really, that was the crux of the problem, wasn’t it?

 He let his head fall back against the plush pile of the rug beneath him. It didn’t make quite the satisfying thunk he’d been hoping for – more of a dull whoomf, really – so he waved unsteady fingers through the air to miracle up the delayed sound himself. That, he thought, was much better suited to his current mood.

 The bottle in his other hand had once contained a rather fine 1947 Cheval Blanc that he hadn’t tasted a single mouthful of, and now contained little more than dregs. He hadn’t bothered to get himself more bottles – only continued refilling this one every time it got too light. He’d just tried to do so again, and managed nothing more than a faint headache, so for the moment he’d abandoned the attempt.

 Crowley blinked blearily up at the ceiling, and lamented his inability to fall into a drunken coma.

 Oh, he could sleep well enough – Crowley was a champion sleeper. He was also quite proficient in naps, snoozes, dozes, and the sort of lazy Sunday afternoon in which you are sure that you were awake, yet somehow cannot produce a single piece of evidence to prove it. All of that was, unfortunately, very different from a drunken coma. They all involved being able to keep his blessed mind quiet for longer than two consecutive minutes.

 Aziraphale had been keeping this bottle back – not for any sort of special occasion, but just because it hadn’t, he’d said, felt like the right time to drink it. Aziraphale was very big on listening to those odd little feelings of his. It had been exactly where it had been kept since Aziraphale first bought it in 1948, still perfectly preserved, and Crowley’s hand shook a little when he had picked it up.

 There had been a part of him – small, but far too loud to completely ignore – that had hoped to hear the angel’s huff behind him. To have the bottle snatched away because it still isn’t time for this one, my dear, really.

 Of course, it had been only him, the bottle, and the books. He’d almost tried spilling a little wine over the first-edition Dante, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to, in the end. As satisfying as it might have been, it still seemed like a step too far. Besides, he thought to himself. Besides. It had been bad enough being allowed to drink the wine. He didn’t know what he’d do if there was no-one to stop him ruining the books2.

 Crowley’s wandering mind found itself pondering if Adam had recreated the holy sigil that Aziraphale had hidden beneath this very rug. He could find out, he supposed, then groaned as even the thought of standing made his head swim. It was harmless to him inactive, but he still didn’t like the thought of sitting atop a direct line to the big guys Upstairs.

 Even if he did have a few choice words for them.

 But then again, there was always the chance it wasn’t Heaven at all. The Metatron had looked terribly confused3 when he’d cornered them about Aziraphale on the airfield. Maybe they really hadn’t had anything to do with it. Maybe they really didn’t know what had happened.

 Which only left Downstairs, something that Crowley felt only marginally more equipped to deal with. Beyond that, there really wasn’t a terribly long list of suspects.

 Only the divine or the infernal were capable of true smiting. And if Adam hadn’t brought Aziraphale back, then that meant there was nothing left of him to bring back. It was a fairly simple progression of logic that managed to completely stall Crowley about halfway through. Six thousand years he thought bitterly. Just enough time to get used to having someone around.

 He lifted to bottle to his lips again, grimacing as he remembered his last attempt to refill it. Well, there was no rush. He had time. It wasn’t the end of the world.

 Pity, that.

 Well, no. That wasn’t fair. After all, this world had always been more or less decent to them – him. And he had just spent the last eleven years trying to make sure it could continue being decent. It would have been a terrible shame if, after all that effort, it had just gone and ended anyway.

 It was just that. That. That Crowley had always trusted in the universe to look out for him, one way or another. And he’d never quite realised that, in all of his optimism, he’d somehow included Aziraphale in that assumption. That if there was something out there in the universe watching his back – be it God, Satan, someone else, or just the natural forces of cosmic entropy – then it only made sense that it would be watching out for the angel as well.

 Crowley had been wrong about a lot of things – one of the perils of having been around since the Beginning.

 He didn’t think he’d ever been as wrong about anything as he was about this.

 “Bugger thissss,” he said, trying to sit himself back up for just a moment, before abandoning the attempt when all it did was offer him a better view of the empty room, a mug of congealed cocoa still sat on the desk, and the tartan throw on the back of the sofa that Crowley had foolishly miracled up as a joke and Aziraphale had loved without the slightest hint of shame or irony.

 “Sssshould the burn the placccce back down! ‘d sssserve you right, Zira! Leaving me to deal with the apocap – apolac – Armageddon all by mysssself! Going and getting yoursssself all, all ssssmoted!”

 Crowley waved his hand towards the general vicinity of the rest of the shop in a gesture that he thought was appropriately menacing.

 “I will! I’ll sssset fire to every one of your biblessss! You’ll, you’ll have to thwart me!”

 And nothing happened. The books didn’t catch fire. Crowley did not feel thwarted, so it was probably just that he was in no fit state to be setting fire to anything. He was too busy, he realised in a distant sort of way, making an awful keening wail as he scrunched his eyes shut as tight as he could.

 It was probably a good thing he’d been in some sort of shock on the drive back. If he’d felt anything like this, he likely would have hit multiple other road users, and then Aziraphale, from wherever he was or wasn’t, would have been exceptionally disappointed. Well, there was every chance Aziraphale was exceptionally disappointed with Crowley right now, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. If the angel wanted to judge him, he could come right on back to life and do it to Crowley’s face.

 “Why?” He moaned, from somewhere low in his throat. “What did he ever do? He wasn’t the one who, who invented original sin. He wasn’t the one who mucked up the Plan. What did he do to desssserve thissss?”

 Unless – unless that was the point. Punishment wasn’t really punishment is you didn’t exist to suffer through it. Maybe it wasn’t about Aziraphale.

 After all, Crowley was the only one suffering now.

 Both Heaven and Hell, while unimaginative, were both very keen on the ironic sorts of punishments. And while Crowley would have liked to think that a benevolent God wouldn’t approve of this sort of thing, he knew enough about the Creator – and all the things that had been going on since free will really took off – to know that God wouldn’t really care. At least, not enough to interfere.

 Ineffable, as the bloody angel would have said. Except he wasn’t here to say it now, and Crowley certainly wasn’t going to stoop so low.

 Begging on the other hand, was a low he had stooped to before, and would no doubt stoop to again.

 “Jusssst,” he started, and tried to get the hissing under control. It probably wasn’t a very polite way to address the Almighty, especially not for one of the fallen. “Jussst, please, ssend him back. He should get to ssee that hiss books are all okay, and that the world isss ssstill sssspinning. He’ssss done enough good for that. Thwarted enough wilessss. And all the onessss he didn’t were my fault, really. Ssssso bring him – jussst bring him back. I know we haven’t spoke in a really long time, and I know we aren’t on good termsss, but pleassse. For, for Zira’s ssssake, pleassse, he’sss all I’ve got left, he’sss the only good thing I still have from Heaven, pleassse-”

 His voice cracked and gave up, but Crowley didn’t notice. He kept up his pleas silently, mouth working awkwardly around a tongue just a little too long and forked to pass for human. His ears were ringing unpleasantly – either a product of the wine, or the fact that praying was always more than a little bit painful for demons.

 But the ringing in his ears just grew louder for a brief, horrible instant, before cutting out entirely.

 Had Crowley been even slightly less of a drunken, mumbling mess, he may well have realised that the ringing was actually the doorbell of the shop. He may have heard the click as the door was unlocked, or the shuffling of fine leather shoes over the mat. He may not have, of course, but we will never know for certain. The reality was, he was that drunk, and he didn’t hear any of those things. The very next thing he heard, in fact, was an aggrieved sigh, and a rather put upon tsk. Crowley didn’t have the willpower at that precise moment to lift an eyelid; but then, he didn’t have to. He was very well acquainted with that put upon tsk. His mouth stretched into something that may have resembled a smile if it hadn’t wobbled quite so much.

 “Ssssstill wassssn’t time for it then? Angel?” He asked, waving the bottle haphazardly around. A couple of drops splashed on his face, and more than a couple onto his shirt. He gestured to miracle them away, but didn’t bother to look and see if it had worked.

 “My dear, I’ve never seen you in such a state,” said a familiar voice to his left. Crowley’s grasp on the bottle slackened, and he felt it fall from between his fingers. It must have landed on the thick, soft rug somewhere beside him, because he didn’t hear it hit the floor.

 Crowley loved that rug. He could write sonnets devoted to that rug. That rug and him had been through something real over the last twelve hours.

 “I’ll take this, Crowley,” said the voice that Crowley knew better than any sound in the world, a little nonsensically.

 It wasn’t Aziraphale. Crowley knew that – had several very good arguments for it, in fact4.

 He didn’t open his eyes to check.

 There was a sensation like fingers – soft, warm, and a little bit heavenly – running over his hair. Crowley tilted his face up towards it. He may not look so much like a serpent these days, but he’d never quite managed to shake the habit of seeking out warmth. If Crowley really concentrated, he could almost muster up the familiar scent of bergamot and dust that always seemed to cling to Aziraphale’s overcoat.

 “Oh, my dear boy, what happened?” Asked Hallucination Aziraphale. “I was only gone a day.”

 “Yesssss!” Crowley hissed despite himself. “A whole – a whole blesssssed day! The firsssst day of, of, of the resssst of my life!”

 He hiccupped.

 It wasn’t a sob. Crowley didn’t sob.

 He did, however, drunkenly hiccup several times in a row, hard enough to make his chest ache and his eyes water. He swiped furiously at his face and tried to curl himself into as small a ball as possible – had he been sober enough, he might have even shrunk himself down into a little snake to curl up even smaller and tighter. Snakes didn’t have treacherous tear ducts. Snakes didn’t drunkenly imagine their dead partner gently lifting their head into a soft lap. Clearly, snakes were the superior beings, and it had only taken him six thousand years, one heartbreak, and one stage of grief to notice.

 “Well now,” the voice was somehow both kind and exasperated, a combination that Aziraphale had mastered several millennia ago, and that Crowley had clearly thought worth committing to memory. “Whatever is the matter? The world is safe, my books are all here, and don’t think I didn’t see your car outside. Anything else can be dealt with, hm?”

 Crowley shook his head wordlessly, but didn’t trust himself to open his mouth. He’d only end up hiccupping again.

 “Crowley? Can you sober up, dear?” Crowley shook his head again, but this time managed a sullen little,

 “Don’t want to be sssssober.”

 “Dare I ask why not?” Crowley had long known he was the only demon with something even approaching an imagination, but even he hadn’t realised just how good it was. He was quite certain he’d managed to get Aziraphale’s stuffy, put-upon eye-rolling spot on.

 It seemed perfectly obvious to Crowley why he should never like to be sober again, and as a hallucination of his, it should be perfectly clear to Aziraphale too. He opened one suspicious eye just a crack; just enough to see a vague outline that may have been angel-shaped with none of the defining characteristics.

 “You’ll go away if I’m ssssober,” he said wretchedly. The lap under his head jolted slightly, which was really rather rude for a hallucinatory pillow, in Crowley’s opinion.

 “I most certainly will not!” Ah, yes, the bluster. Crowley always did like tempting that out. “For a start, we’re in my shop! And if you will insist on staying drunk, I should at least like to know why on Earth you thought it was a good idea to pass out on my nice rug!”

 “Din’t pass out,” Crowley muttered sullenly, and didn’t point out that it wasn’t for a lack of trying. His brain and any products thereof would already know that, so it would be rather pointless.

 “Crowley,” said the angel warningly.

 Crowley found himself overtaken by another sudden bought of hiccups.

 “They killed my best friend,” he said, and didn’t hiss at all. The hand that had been moving gently through his hair all this time, almost unnoticed, stopped for a second and shook, before starting again.

 “Oh. I – well. I’m terribly sorry to hear that, dearest,” Aziraphale said, and there was no hint of temper in his voice. Just something a little shaky that Crowley couldn’t quite put his finger on.

 “Have you,” there was hesitance now, where there hadn’t been before. Crowley tried to reach up, in the vague direction he thought the angel’s face might be, to pat at it reassuringly. Aziraphale was de – gone. He had nothing to be hesitant about, and Crowley tried to tell him that with a few clumsy swipes of his hand against what may have been a cheek. It felt like Aziraphale was smiling, but his voice was still sad when he spoke. “Have you tried asking Adam about it? He’s really a terribly nice boy, under all of the Hellish powers.”

 Crowley managed a despondent shake of his head.

 “Silly angel,” he said, and it was fond now. He had decided, rather abruptly, that he could be as fond as he wanted. As fond as he had been for six thousand year, under it all. “Can’t bring back something that dun’t even exisssst anymore. He already fixed everythin’ elsssse.” He leaned up a little, and whispered, like it was some great secret,

 “I even assssked Death.” He spoke over Aziraphale’s squawk of you what? “And y’know what he ssssaid? That it wassssn’t hissss jurissssdiction anymore!”

 It had seemed something of a win-win at the time. Either Death could do something about it, or he would be annoyed enough by Crowley’s asking to do something else – at that point, Crowley hadn’t been too picky. But it seemed his luck had run out – his optimistic streak had carried him as far as it was able, and not an inch further.

 “Would you tell me about them?” Aziraphale asked after a long moment of silence. His voice small, and tight, and something about it struck Crowley as wrong, but his brain was far too slippery to grasp what it was. “They must have been something truly special, to go to all that trouble. It might – help. Help you, I mean.” Crowley thought this through hazily, before nodding. He wasn’t sure if it really made sense or not, but he was willing to trust that Aziraphale would know more about this sort of thing than him.

 “Known ‘m since – sssince – forever. Before time was a thing,” Crowley said. “Could alwaysss count on him. And we din’t have a lot in common, but we had all the important bitsss! And bessssides, you get used to people being around that long.”

 Aziraphale laughed, a little uncomfortably.

 “Well now, you don’t need to tell me that, my dear,” he said.

 “But I do!” This, suddenly, seemed extremely important. Crowley pushed himself into a popstion that could be described as upright, if one were feeling particularly generous5, and peered unsteadily into the hallucination’s eyes for the first time. They looked exactly like Aziraphale’s, complete with the little golden flecks that always caught the light no matter which way he turned. Bless it but Crowley was good.

 “I never told you when you were alive, and now you’ve gone and got yourself smited, so I’ll never get to tell you again!”

 He had the singular pleasure of watching Aziraphale’s eyes widen, and a flood of colour rush up his cheeks, but didn’t pause to appreciate the sight, steamrolling over any of Aziraphale’s attempts to talk.

 “You were -! You were -! Huffy, and you had terrible taste in clothes, and I don’t underssssstand what’ssss so great about Classic FM that you thought it had to be the only blessed channel you can get all over the country no matter how bad the ssssignal is, and sssometimes I hiss my words just because I know it makessss you smile, and I’ve never unkilled a duck for anyone else, and none of it mattersss because Heaven or Hell or ssssomeone decided to off you, and now I’m sssstuck here on my own waiting for the next go-around!”

 It was quiet for a long time. Long enough for Crowley to slump back into the hallucination’s lap and close his eyes again. They really were so heavy, and sore after the hiccups made them water so much.

 “I really do think,” Aziraphale said finally, “that you ought to sober up.”

 Crowley didn’t dignify that with a response beyond tightening his grip on the angel’s calf.

 “It would be in both our best interests?”

 Still not worth a reply.

 “For me?”

 That made him pause a little, before shaking his head definitively no.

 “Oh, for the love of – someone.” The next thing Crowley knew, he was up on his feet, through no effort or will of his own. There were a pair of arms wrapped rather solidly around his shoulders, and his feet didn’t want to move separately, apparently rather stuck on the idea that they used to be a tail. His face was pressed heavily against a soft shoulder though, so Crowley didn’t complain, even when the wool tickled at his nose. He had the vague feeling that he was being led somewhere, but he’d be redeemed if he could figure out where.

 “Here we are,” Aziraphale muttered, right before he dropped Crowley onto what felt like a bed – just the right side of springy, with a thread count that was honestly sinful. Crowley appreciated it for an all-too-brief second before he found himself gripped by panic.

 He surged up, and halfway off the bed before Aziraphale caught him again.

 “Nuh – no!” If Crowley lay down in a bed, then he would go to sleep. If Crowley went to sleep, then he would wake up sober. If he woke up sober, then Aziraphale would be gone. “Nonono.”

 “Yes,” Aziraphale’s voice was firm, though his hands were soft as anything where they were untangling Crowley’s from his lapels. “You need a good night’s sleep my dear, and to face the morning with a clear head. I promise you it’ll all seem much brighter.”

 Crowley shook his head where it was mashed against the side of Aziraphale’s neck. The neck in question moved a little as Aziraphale sighed.

 “Would it help if I stayed with you?” He asked.

 That… gave Crowley pause. He hadn’t thought of that. If the hallucination stayed with him while he slept, and Crowley held on tightly enough – well, he was pretty solid now. As long as Crowley didn’t move a single muscle as he slept6 then it should be fine.

 There was something amiss with that logic, but exhaustion had crept up on him like a snake in the grass, and Crowley found himself being lowered back to the bed once more, this time unresistingly.

 “There you are,” was the last thing Crowley heard as he slipped off to sleep. He had just enough time to congratulate himself on miracling up such a comfortable bed – he’d even managed to permeate the pillows with Aziraphale’s scent, which he desperately pressed his nose into now – before he was swept away7.

 *****

1 – In fact it was none of these, for the simple reason that Crowley had never been this drunk before in his very long existence

2 – Well, no, that’s not entirely accurate. He did know what he would do. He was just trying very hard not to think on it too long, when he knew that Aziraphale would disapprove most vehemently

3 – Insofar as a being with no face made of holy fire can look confused

4 – The arguments went as follows:

·        Aziraphale had been smited. Smote? Smiten?

·        Aziraphale would never approve of Crowley’s deep love for this rug

·        Aziraphale had never, in six thousand years, sounded quite so fondly exasperated, and he wouldn’t have started now

·        Aziraphale was dead

·        Aziraphale hadn’t started nagging him about the wine

·        Aziraphale hadn’t mentioned the new books that Crowley had noticed Adam stocked

·        Aziraphale wasn’t coming back

5 – As well as a little hazy on the meaning of the word ‘upright’

6 – Which was, fortunately, how he naturally slept anyway

7 – Had he stayed awake any longer, he would have realised that not even he would have miracle up such a hideous quilt cover. He also would have felt the careful, cleansing touch of a kiss against his forehead to keep away bad dreams – though demons have no other kind. But he did not stay awake, and so he noticed nothing.

[lovely-angst]

Hi ! Ahem. So , I really like your work and I would be really happy if you would write an angst scenario. The girl in class who has literaly no friends bc of trusts issues has a crush on Oikawa but would never admit it. I haven't thought about the rest but I'd like to leave it up to you. HIT ME WITH YOUR ANGSTY ANGST . Thank you in advance !

I was writing this but it deleted on me. Great. 

THIS TURNED TO BE SUPER LONG, WHOOPS. UNDER THE CUT.

“Oikawa-san! Good luck at practice!” 

Hearing the fangirls’ loud squealing, you jumped in your seat before turning your head towards the classroom windows where the girls gathered. Among the sea of girls, you could see Oikawa smiling and politely waving to the girls as he tried to make his way through the crowd.

You furrowed your brows, what was so good about him anyway? 

It had been a few hours since school had ended and you were the last one in the class. Sighing from feeling exhausted, you stood up and gathered your homework in your hands before walking over towards the window to close it.

You were usually in charge of cleaning up the classroom after your class, you didn’t mind it but it would sometimes get lonely.

Looking out the window, your eyes glanced down at a student walking towards the gates. He looked familiar to you, even from afar. 

“Good work today Oikawa-san!” You heard someone shout towards the male and you squeaked, letting go of your papers by surprise. Gasping, you tried to reach out for your papers but they had already flown out of your hands.

Hearing papers falling, Oikawa turned around just to be smacked in the face by one. Pulling it away, he looked around and noticed you by the window, looking down at the papers distressed. 

It wouldn’t hurt to help a lady in distress.

“Don’t worry! I’ll bring these up to you!” Oikawa shouted as he ran towards the bottom of the school where the papers had landed. Your eyes widened and you waved your hands in response, “I-It’s okay! I can grab them myself…” Your voice faded away as Oikawa ignored your words and gathered them all up, heading over towards the third floor where you were at. 

It didn’t take long before Oikawa made it towards your classroom, handing you your papers back. Blush formed on your cheeks, as you gently took the papers from his hands. 

“I’m sorry for making you come all this way just to hand me my papers back,” You state, bowing politely. Oikawa chuckled before shaking his head, “You’re welcome, I’m just glad I could help a cute girl like yourself.” 

Your blush deepened but a small smile made its way onto your face, “I’m more clumsy than cute, but thank you.” 

“I should be on my way, get home safe,” Oikawa replied walking over towards the door. bowing again you nodded and walked over towards the door along with him. “Thank you again Oikawa-san.” 

You couldn’t stop thinking about him the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, Oikawa never talked to you again that week. Shaking your head, you placed your hands over your burning cheeks as you looked out the window during class, “Oikawa would never see you as anything more than a fangirl,” You said trying to convince yourself. 

Here you were again, in class alone. The sun shone through the room beautifully, but it would be better to share this moment with someone. As soon as class ended, the students would all leave to their clubs leaving you alone to clean up for the following morning.

Walking up to the chalkboard, you took an eraser and began cleaning the board like you usually did at the end of the day. Hearing the door slide open, you turned around only to be met with beautiful chocolate brown eyes. 

“O-Oikawa-san?” Holding the eraser close to your chest, Oikawa smiled and shut the door behind him as he entered. “Careful! You’ll get your uniform dirty like that,” He informed, pointing towards the eraser in your hands.

Gasping, you set the eraser down and furiously dusted your chest to get the powder off. “What are you here for? Did you need something?” You asked as you picked the eraser up again and continued to clean the board. 

“No not really,” he began, looking around the room, “I just wanted to talk with you a bit.” 

Stopping in your tracks, you slowly turned your head around towards him with arched brows, “What?“ Oikawa smiled and took a seat towards the front of the room, closer to where you were.

“You’re always after school alone, I was curious.” Oikawa admitted and you looked at him before glancing down at the floor, “This is what I do, by myself every day.”

“Don’t you have friends that can help you?” He asked, but you shook your head finishing up the board. “No, not really.”

“Why? Friends shouldn’t leave one person up to a job like this.” He replied back more serious. “I don’t have any friends, that’s why.” You shot back. Your back facing Oikawa in silence. Oikawa didn’t respond back and you sighed, “I’m not like you Oikawa-san…I don’t have people who love me like they love you. You’re surrounded by so many people, I’m jealous.”

“How can someone like you not have any friends? You have a big heart,” Oikawa replies and you couldn’t help but blush. Pursing your lips you set the eraser down, “Things happened a few years back and because of that, I don’t have any friends. I have big trust issues and just because you’re talking to me like you actually care doesn’t mean we’re friends. I’m especially cautious around people like you who can hurt me easily.” 

Oikawa was taken back by your sudden statement, a little hurt in the process but he understood where you were coming from. Oikawa stood up and walked over to the small podium the teacher had in class. Leaning on it with his elbows, he leaned forward towards you with a small smile, “Then you wouldn’t mind if I came to visit you every day here would you?”

And he kept his word.

For the next week, Oikawa visited you after school every day, helping you clean up time to time and starting up friendly conversations. You were always looking forward towards the end of the day with Oikawa. He was your first friend in who knows how long, he was also your first love.

“(Name)-chan, I have a game tomorrow can you come by and watch?” Oikawa asked, cleaning up the right side of the chalkboard while you worked on the left. “Do I have to? I’m not good with crowds..” You replied honestly, a little embarrassed. “Please? It would mean a lot to me,” Oikawa pouted and you looked away, “Just this game?” You asked, still looking away from the setter.

“I can’t make promises, so please?” He whined again making you sigh, “Fine, just for you.” 

But when you stood outside of the large gymnasium, you knew you made a mistake. “Why did I agree to this..” You said to yourself as you finally took a step forward and walked inside, looking around for the correct gym that Oikawa had informed you.

“(Name)-chan! There you are!” Oikawa shouted as he ran up to you. Letting out a sigh of relief you walked over and met him in the middle. “You look so cute in your casual clothing!” He casually complimented making you flush. “S-Stop that!” “Anyways, let me show you where we are. I think you were lost.” He joked causing you to slap his arm.

Settling down in the audience after Oikawa had left to go back onto the court, you were excited to watch him play, to say the least. And you were not disappointed at all; he was just as amazing as you hoped he would be and more. How were you going to stop this racing heart of yours?

After the game, you quietly walked down to congratulate him on his win. His fangirls gave you side-eyes which made you a little uneasy after you had been hanging out with Oikawa for so long. 

“Ah! (Name)-chan! Did you see me?” Oikawa chirped as he left his team and jogged over towards you. His smile caused your heart to melt and you couldn’t help but smile, “Yeah, you were great.” 

Seeing you smile at him like that, Oikawa couldn’t take his eyes away from you. Reaching down for your hands, he took them in yours and your surprised eyes met his serious ones.

“O-Oikawa what are you do-”

“I love you.”

Your eyes widened as you tried to read his emotions. You’d never seen him so serious like this before. His brown eyes focused on yours, his soft and sweaty hair coming down in front of his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed seriously as he large hands held yours tightly.

Looking around, your eyes ran past all of his angry and shocked fangirls before they glanced at his teammates. 

“(Name) of all people?” “She’s so weird,” “She doesn’t even have friends,” “He must’ve felt bad.”

Your breathing began to get heavy and you let go of his hands forcefully, pulling your hands into your chest. “O-Oikawa I-This is..” Clenching your eyes shut, you quickly turned away and ran out the building, leaving Oikawa there dejected.

As you lied on your bed, you clenched your chest in guilt. “Why did I do that, why did I run away? How could I do that to him?” Tears slid down your cheeks as you hugged your pillow tightly, how were you going to face him now?

When you attended back at school, everybody had their eyes on you. Hanging your head down, you walked towards your seat and tried to keep all the negative thoughts out of your mind. 

The end of the day came slower than it ever had but there was still a chance Oikawa would come and help, maybe talk out what had happened at the game. 

But as the clock ticked by, Oikawa didn’t show up. And that went on for two weeks. 

Enough was enough, you couldn’t handle this anymore. There was just a misunderstanding that Oikawa didn’t understand. Walking out of your ‘little cleaning shift’, you ran down towards the gate were Oikawa would leave every day. 

“Oikawa-san!” You shouted as you ran down towards him, and to your surprise, he turned around and smiled. You smiled back before slowing down into a walk to which he reciprocated. “I just wanted to talk to you about the game, there was just a misunderstanding.” You said with a relieved smile, just as you and Oikawa were about to meet in the middle, Oikawa walked passed you leaving you standing there alone. “Hey, Iwa-chan!” 

Your heart clenched, “I-I’m…alone again..” 

You should’ve known it was too good to be true. Why did everything good that happened in your life get shot down? How did you come all the way back to square one? 

As you stood in front of the chalkboard with the eraser in your hand, you heard the door slide open. Quickly turning around, you apologized to Oikawa right away, “Oikawa, I’m sor-”

You quickly cut yourself off as you watched three girls silently come your way. “C-can I help you?” You asked a little intimidated. They all surrounded you against the chalkboard and all you could do was look down in fear.

“We just want to talk, that’s all,” One girl said with an overly friendly tone that sent a chill down your spine. “So, Oikawa confessed to you huh? Wow, must be nice.” She continued as your eyes focused on your feet. 

“I-I,” You started but she reached her hand out and pulled on your hair, making you squeak. “You’re nothing but a nuisance to him. Do you think he would truly like a loner like you?”

Tears dropped down your eyes, of course, he would never. Who would ever love someone like me? 

“Of course I would,” A voice said loudly and the girls jumped back in shock, staring at the male by the doors. “I would never love anybody who bullies other people though.”

“O-Oikawa-san, we were just…” One tried to explain, but they ran away in tears before they could say anything. 

The room was silent between the two of you. Your glassy eyes looked up at his before you turned back around towards the board and picking up the eraser.

“They’re right you know,” You started first, “I’m just a loner that you should’ve never met.” A sob escaped your lips and your hand with the eraser eased down. “I hate myself!” 

Suddenly Oikawa’s arms were around you and your head was gently placed on his chest. “It was my fault, wasn’t it? My confession? I scared you, I shouldn’t have put you on the spot like that. I left you alone for two weeks, I was selfish,”

You cried in his chest as your arms wrapped around his frame. Oikawa held you there as long as you needed, supporting you when he hadn’t before.

“I love you too Oikawa,” You mumbled in his chest. Oikawa’s eyes widened as he pulled you away. “You what?”

“I’m not saying it again!” you cried as you covered your face in his chest again. Oikawa smiled lovingly as he held you, “I’m sorry about before. I love you too (Name), so much.”

“Are you going to come back to erase the board with me?” You asked hopefully and Oikawa nodded with his warm smile, “Of course.”

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

SPIDERMAN AAAAHH i just saw the movie this brings me so much joy okay peter gets a cough or a cold or something not really that major and mr stark notices but doesn't say anything because he's like 'he'll tell me if he needs something' or whatever then when peter goes to get a drink or the bathroom idk FRIDAY is just like 'Mr Parker has a temperature of .... ' or 'needs urgent medical assistance' or smth

(This is a sweet ass prompt, anon. And I’m all for Tony trying to be a suave dad like “I must test him” and that fails horribly lmao bc Peter is a stubborn shit..here’s some more Spiderman! Also u might notice I’ve incorporated the tom holland meme discretely lol)

When Tony first discovered Peter through that YouTube video, he had seen him as a talent. A potential colleague in the future, a team mate and someone he could help along find their footing. But Tony had never anticipated what had come for him instead.

Instead what Tony found was a kid. A kid who was without a doubt, certainly a talent and special, but he was a kid. He was lost, he had issues, he was a misfit who desperately wanted to be like everyone else and didn’t exactly love himself. Peter had been exposed to the horrors of the world too soon; having lost his Uncle, who had been his father figure quite recently. He had daddy issues, and Tony was no stranger to those. In those eyes Tony saw himself years ago, a boy trying to pave his way through a misguided childhood, and trying to come out of it a man.

Tony had people who had helped him along the way, mentors, friends, the like. And for them, Tony would eternally be grateful. Tony could only hope he could be the same for Peter, because he deserved it. He really was a good kid.

A bond had grown between them, and Tony had grown caring and protective. This had not been his plan at all. He was unprepared, making it up as he went. Tony had no clue what it was like, what it took to become a father figure. Hell, how would he know something he never even had? Even so, he had made it a mission to make sure Peter could have something as close as possible. He knew he would come up short, but damn well Tony would try his hardest despite that.

Tony would try and push communication with Peter. What he recognised in Peter was the struggle to reach out to others, in fear of perhaps rejection or belittlement or the fear he would not be understood. When Peter did rarely reach out, he very much held back. Tony wanted Peter to be more open, so he could achieve this connection with others he longed to have.

Tony started inviting Peter more and more to the Stark Tower, much to the boy’s delight. He still had his pride, of course, he would still tell Peter not to get his hopes up and this doesn’t mean anything, but the both of them knew that was simply not the case. Tony had started to care for this boy.

So when Peter exited the the elevator, looking pale and ghostly, Tony couldn’t help but feel extremely worried.

Happy was not far behind him, raising an eyebrow at Tony. A sure symbol telling Tony that something was most certainly wrong.

“What’s up, Rudolph?” Tony greeted as Peter shuffled into the room, his already pale face a pasty white, besides a rubbed raw red nosed and dark circles beneath his eyes.

“Nothing much, I got an A in my Spanish test,” Peter said casually, his voice hoarse and ridden with congestion.

Tony blinked, the protective side of him desperately wanting to just pick up this kid and wrap him in blankets. He was so tempted to do so, just on the brink of scooping the kid in his arms but he refrained. Peter would tell him if something was seriously wrong, he would have to. Besides, they had just had that little heart to heart about communication last week, right?

Tony shrugged, “Thats good, Spanish is a good language to have in your back pocket. You wanna see this new suit I’m developing?”

Peter smiled weakly, “Of course Mr Stark!”

Peter coughed a chorus of congested, chesty little coughs into his arms for the third time since Tony began his lecture on a new technology he was developing.

“That’s super cool Mr Stark,” Peter rasped out, his voice extremely hoarse and congested, sounding like it was on its last breath.

Tony raised an eyebrow, “You alright there, Pete?”

Peter cleared his throat, sniffling softly, “I have a bit of a cough, Mr Stark.”

Tony nodded thoughtfully, taking this as progress. Peter was beginning to admit things, and that was enough for him. If things were to go awry, the kid would tell him. “Alright, Pete, give me a shout if you need anything or need to take a break.”

Peter coughed again into the crook of his arm, “Of course Mr Stark.”

“Peter, will you go and process this for me?” Tony asked casually, passing over Peter a sheet of calculations as he tweaked the coding of some advancement he and Peter were working on.

It took Peter a good few minutes to snap out of his fevered trance and he nodded. The sudden return to reality was jarring, and made him feel extremely dizzy. As he began to move for the first time in what seemed like forever was a little bit of a shock to his system, unable to walk in a straight line and shaking as he walked.

Peter squinted as the bright light of the screen shone, the intensity of the light blinding him and inducing a headache. He let out a barely audible groan of discomfort as his free hand made its way to his temple. He slowly and weakly typed out the calculations onto the computer, until an irresistible tickle itched at his throat.

Peter swallowed and cleared his throat, hoping that it would go away. The tickle pricked at the lining, causing his eyes to prick with irritated tears. He tried to keep it in, finding that he wasn’t really breathing. Eventually, the itching was too much and he exploded into a series of irritated, itchy coughs. He managed to lift his arm up to his mouth to conceal his germs, hacking an incredibly fit of chesty, throaty coughs that hurt his chest.

The tickle would only persist, causing more desperate coughs out of his chest. He just couldn’t stop, an endless series of coughing that he wished would just stop. Suddenly he felt a warm hand rubbing his back, and a glass of water being pressed against his lips. Peter drank gratefully, the fresh cool liquid soothing his inflamed throat.

“Thank you Mr Stark,” Peter croaked out, chest heaving as he struggled to regain his composure and catch his breath. He felt weak and faint due to the prolonged period without oxygen in his system. Peter leaned against the table to try and support his feeble body.

Tony sighed, “You sound like you’ve got a frog up your throat. But seriously though, kiddo, you’ll say something if you need something, correct?”

Peter nodded, “Yes, Mr Stark. I’m fine for now, it’s just one of the colds going around at school I guess.”

Tony nodded, unable to mask the suspicion and concern that was growing on his features. He turned back to the tech he was developing and Peter followed shortly after, but he still couldn’t quite shake the feeling he was making a mistake here.

Peter sniffled softly, wiping away at the beads of sweat dotting his forehead due to his fever. His cheeks felt extremely warm, and he was certain he resembled a toddler who was playing with their mother’s blusher. His head was pounding hard, like his brain was being thrusted and stabbed numerous times. He rubbed at his temple aggressively, willing the pain away but to no avail. He groaned, feeling extreme discomfort at how warm he felt.

His palms were sweaty and it was extremely gross for the touch screen computer he was working on. His vision was fading in and out of darkness, he could hear his heart thumping in his chest. He felt so panicked and sick that he couldn’t stand this, but he didn’t want to worry Tony or make him think he was weak. Peter had worked so hard to get Tony to like him and he didn’t want that all flushed down the drain.

“I’m just going to the bathroom, Mr Stark,” Peter announced, trying not to fall or walk straight into a table because the world was currently spinning. He had hoped if he had just splashed his face with some water he could cool down a little bit.

“Of course, Pete,” Tony replied, continuing to tweak at the piece of technology. He didn’t look up as Peter left, not noticing how Peter shook and wobbled as he walked in a zig zag formation.

Tony had lost track of time, engulfed and lost in his work when suddenly FRIDAY activated.

“Mr Stark,”

“Yes, FRIDAY?” Tony responded, not looking up from his work.

“Mr Parker has a temperature of an alarming rate at 103.4 degrees. He has currently lost consciousness and is on the floor of the nearest bathroom.”

Tony’s heart dropped. He felt a wave of nausea rush through his body and an icy, bitter cold sensation wash over his system as he froze. He breathed in heavily, heart heavy and breathing shallow, “..O-okay, thank you f-for letting me k-know, FRIDAY.”

Once Friday deactivated once again, Tony inhaled sharply then was sprinting towards the bathroom.

Being a superhero, there were numerous times where he had to run fast. Times where he had to sprint his heart out for the sake of his own life. However Tony had never ran as fast as he did now, running for what may have not been his own life, but a life that meant more to him than his own.

He burst through the bathroom door and found Peter curled up on the cold hard ground, looking extremely sick and pale. Tony let out a small gasp, his heart breaking and racing as he looked down at this boy who looked so weak and like he had fallen apart. All because Tony was too slow to catch him.

Tony took in a shaky breath, kneeling down to examine Peter’s face. His skin was scorching hot, his face scrunched up in discomfort. His hands shook violently as he examined the boy, letting out a quivering breath in anxiety.

“F-Friday, p-please do an evaluation on Mr Parker,” Tony stuttered.

“Mr Parker has a high fever and a bad cough. Should the cough not be treated this could potentially gravitate into something a lot worse, for example a chest infection.”

Tony breathed in shakily, running sweaty hands through his hair in anxiety. His heart raced and chest cold, swallowing hard, trying to steady his rigged breathing. He blinked back tears, feeling a plethora of guilt of guilt flood his anxious mind.

“P-please tell me w-what to do,” Tony basically whimpered.

“First sir, you must stay calm. Panicking will not do Mr Parker any good.”

“I can’t not fucking panic! This kid is sick because I fucked up! Tell me what to do!” Tony snapped.

“Mr Stark, your emotions are clouding you. As a father figure to Mr Parker you must not hold any resentment towards yourself because it does not benefit either you.”

Tony slid against the wall, hands pulling at his hair, “I can’t do that, FRIDAY. I can’t be enough for Peter. I’m not enough for him. I want to be. This kid deserves the world and..I can’t give it to him. How can I give him something I’ve never had?”

“You cannot give Peter the world. It is as simple as that. He never asked for that. He needs you, no one else. The first thing you just do to fully love another individual is to love yourself first.”

Tony began to relax slowly, letting out a shaky laugh, “That’s really dumb and cheesy. I didn’t know I programmed a sappy rom com into my AI..but that actually helped. Thank you, FRIDAY. I guess..I’m just upset that I can’t give him everything.”

“No one can. He can never have everything, Mr Stark. That’s just the way of life. All he’s asking is for you to be there.”

“I will.”

“Are you now ready to receive instructions on how to care for Mr Parker?”

“Yes I am.”

Tony scooped Peter into his arms, heading towards the room that had been prepared for his stay. Over the past few months, Peter had started growing a small collection of his own stuff to put there. In fact there was a small drawer filled with things for his best friend Ned when he sometimes came over.

Tony put Peter down onto the bed, tucking him into the blankets. He brushed away the strands of sweaty fair off his fevered forehead and sighed quietly.

“Okay, what do I do?”

“Go and retrieve a damp washcloth for his forehead.”

Tony went off to get one, and draped the towel over Peter’s forehead. The younger boy let out a tiny noise of satisfaction, his face relaxing and as did his muscles, looking a lot less tense and uncomfortable.

“I’ve contacted your doctor to check on Mr Parker. I’ve also forwarded all information from his scan so he can come equipped with medicine.”

“You’re the best, FRIDAY.”

“I know, Mr Stark.”

“God, a lot of me translated into your coding, huh?”

Peter woke up the next morning, feeling weak and groggy, but a lot better than he had yesterday. He shielded his eyes from the light coming from the window. He blinked in confusion as he felt the soft mattress and crisp white sheets. As far as he knew, he was on the bathroom floor.

He got up, trying to make himself aware of his surroundings and trying to piece together what had happened when he heard the door creaking open. He whipped his head around to see who it was.

Tony’s eyes widened, “Oh! You’re awake!”

“..what..?” Peter stated, extremely confused.

Tony smirked and set down a tray of medicine, a mug of tea and an extremely aromatic soup. He sat down at the edge of the bed, “You fainted on the bathroom floor and you had a  dangerously high fever. I had to call a doctor to come in.”

Peter felt a pang of guilt strike him as he bit his lip, “I’m so sorry, Mr–”

Tony softened, “No no, I’m not mad. Well, I am kinda.”

Peter looked down awkwardly, feeling guilty still. It was like when Aunt May was scolding him for not cleaning up properly and leaving a mess or coming home late. Super awkward.

“I’m kinda mad because I told you many times to tell me when you needed something. I thought we had a deal to communicate. We had a heart to heart last week and everything.”

“..I know, Mr Stark, I’m sorry. I just..i worked so hard for you to like me and now you finally are and I was just afraid that when you saw the actual me, weak me, that that would all go down the drain and you wouldn’t like me and this time you wouldn’t take me back–”

“What?! Peter, I would never–” Tony cut himself off and sighed deeply, pinching the bride of his nose. He inhaled.

“..Okay..you know what. I shouldn’t be mad at you. You know why? Because I’m not listening to my own advice either. It’s not fair I get to break the rules.”

Peter looked confused.

“..I’m not communicating with you either. I’m sorry I made you feel that way, Pete. I know I act like I don’t want you around..but the hard cold fact is I really do, and I’m so so sorry it came across that way. I just..really care about you, Peter. I was so worried last night when I found you unconscious. I thought I had lost you..that I had failed you..”

“You don’t owe me anything, Mr Stark.”

“..No. I do. You are my family now, just like Rhodes or Happy is. Recently, I’ve really come to care about you and I short-circuited. I was so afraid I wouldn’t be enough for you and that I would fuck up just like my dad and make the same mistakes.”

Peter softened, “Mr Stark..you are enough..”

Tony shook his head, “No, I’m not. I never will be. And that’s fine. Im never going to–but I will still try. I’m not going anywhere, Peter.”

Peter blinked back tears, inhaling sharply, laughing shakily, “T-thank you, M-Mr Stark. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t either,” Tony said, wrapping an arm around Peter and pulling him close and embracing him into a warm, loving hug.

Tony pulled away, a smirk creeping onto his lips, “Okay, time for medicine!”

Peter made a face of disgust.

Tony opened a bottle of medicine, carefully pouring the liquid into the spoon but messed up and ended up spilling some onto the sheets.

“Well shit–hey, I just said I would fuck up a lot,” Tony chuckled.

Peter giggled, “That’s perfectly okay with me.”

[sicklylittlesnowflake]

Can you do jarchie where Archie gets jug sick bc he kissed him while he was sick?

(Comin’ at ya with some established QPR Jarchie!! First time doing something like this and I’m trying really hard to be as respectful as i can! Also sorry i took a huge break!!! trying to get back on track my dudes!!)

Jughead gently presses his body against Archie’s, wrapping an arm around his waist as he pulls him close. He’s desperate to share his warmth with his shivering, sick partner, in hopes he could take it all away.

Jughead hates it when Archie’s sick, because Archie doesn’t deserve this. Whenever he’s sick, the energetic, bright ball of sunshine that he deeply adored was reduced to an empty shell of who he truly was. If Jughead could make the sun shine for Archie every day, he would. But he can’t, because human bodies aren’t designed to stay in a constant state of health.

“Are you okay with this?” Archie croaks out, sniffling weakly.

Jughead smiles fondly, touched that even in his fevered state Archie is still looking out for him and his boundaries. Much of his life Jughead had internalised that no one would ever understand him and stick with him. He was proven very wrong.

“Yes. This is okay, anything to give you back your warmth,” Jughead coos softly, running a hand through Archie’s hair. Archie loves affection, he always has, and Jughead doesn’t mind providing. He himself doesn’t hate it, anything above the torso is cool. But Jughead is definitely very ticklish, so his answer is slightly complex.

Archie coughs weakly, the sound resonating from his chest. The other boy frowns at this, not liking this in the slightest. He’s still a little flabbergasted by it all, because Archie is never the first one sick. It’s always him, and this is a weird little surprise. But of course, Archie is much more active and sociable than he is, and Jughead supposed picking something up from one of the Bulldogs was going to happen eventually. He’s surprised it doesn’t happen more often.

Archie relaxes as Jughead wraps himself around him, a sweet and comforting sensation of warmth embracing him like a blanket. He smiles softly, his shivering beginning to subside as Jughead holds him like this. He coughs again, his body shaking with the force.

“I really appreciate you doing this for me, I..you’re being really sweet and I really like it,” Archie says quietly.

Jughead rolls his eyes fondly, “Oh really? Maybe I’m just a clone of Jughead, because Jughead can’t be sweet, he’s cold and cynical and bitter.”

Archie scoffs and lifts a hand tiredly to smack Jughead’s cheek gently and playfully, “Oh for fuck’s sake Jug, don’t ruin the pureness of this moment with your self hatred. Besides, you are a massive softie, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

“True, i do enjoy cake and marshmallows and the like, I even prefer the softer fries,” Jughead jokes, only for Archie to huff and smack him again.

Archie begins to cough violently, burying his face into his pillow as he does. His body convulses as he coughs, body racked by it. He hacks, the coughs ripping out of his throats and eyes tearing, nose running. Jughead frowns and skilfully rubs his back to soothe him and coax out the coughs, and eventually Archie finishes.

Archie whimpers as he finishes, and Jughead can feel a new wave of heat radiate off of the boy. Jughead frowns and feels at his forehead with the back of his hand, unhappy with the results.

“I’m going to get you a new towel,” Jughead announces, shifting to get up but Archie whines in misery and flips over so that he’s facing Jughead. He protectively wraps his strong arm around Jughead’s waist and pulls Jughead close to him, snuggling up against his chest miserably.

“No, please, don’t go,” Archie whines, nuzzling his nose into Jughead’s chest.

“Archie, you know I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be right back, I just need to get your fever down..” Jughead insists, trying to squirm out of Archie’s tight grasp. Even when he’s sick, Archie’s football practice comes in to play.

“Noooo, cuddle me,” Archie whines again, his grip tightening around Jughead.

“Oh, for fucks sake..” Jughead sighs, and when he looks down at Archie he sighs again, because Archie looks so miserable and Jughead can’t say no to him.

“Fine,” Jughead gives in, nuzzling Archie’s cheek with his nose and gently rubs at his shoulders to comfort him.

Archie pulls away from Jughead’s chest and looks up at him with twinkling, bleary eyes. He looks extremely feverish, and miserable, and those two combined means affection for Archie Andrews. Suddenly, he’s lazily leaning in and pressing a sloppy kiss against Jughead’s lips.

Jughead is a little alarmed, freezing up for a second but when the warmth spreads throughout him he relaxes and closes his eyes and lets it happen.

Once it’s over Archie feverishly pulls away, and suddenly and a sudden clarity washes over his eyes, and they’re widening in shock and realisation.

“Oh god, Jug, I’m sorry–” Archie gasps.

Jughead chuckles lightly, “Its cool. I’m cool with it, it was nice.”

“No–but now you’re going to get sick,” Archie panics.

Jughead rolls his eyes, “Eh, it was going to happen anyway. Besides, who knows, maybe it’ll give me a pass.”

“That’s not very likely.”

“Don’t rain on my parade, asshole,” Jughead jokes and cuddles him again.

“I’m still sorry, I just..”

“You what?”

“I just love you a lot, Jug. I’m sorry,” Archie whimpers pathetically, seemingly very small.

Jughead smiles softly and closes his eyes, relaxing, “What is there to be sorry about? There’s only everything to be thankful about. I love you a lot too, and it’s really nice to have someone looking out for me..it feels..nice, I never really had a lot of that growing up and I thought I would never have anything like it, but you’ve proven me very wrong.”

“Awh, Jug..” Archie smiles fondly.

Jughead makes a face, “Eugh, okay, enough of that. That’s as much of sap you’re getting today.”

Archie laughs heartily, a little chestily and twinged with congestion. He lets out a chorus of little chesty coughs to which Jughead rubs his back soothingly for him, and when he finishes Archie is exhausted. Weakly, he relaxes and closes his eyes to recover, but his body is too weary and sends him off to sleep and to another world. Jughead chuckles at this and fondly wraps an arm around him, closing his eyes and follows suit.

A day or two later, Jughead wakes up to a light itch in his nose. He scrunches his nose sleepily, pawing at it and tries to get back to sleep. However, the itching only for worse as it tickled ferociously on the inner lining of his nose.

Suddenly the weight of the situation kicks in and Jughead widens his eyes and tries to keep his hitching as quiet as he can. He rolls off of the air mattress and tries to quickly but quietly make his way out of the room as not to wake Archie. He nearly makes it when he trips over Archie’s mess, and manages to grasp onto the handle of the door, breaking his fall, but also breaking the silence.

Jughead hopes that Archie doesn’t wake up, and makes his way into the hall before releasing a series of explosions, trying his best to restrain the sound of his sneezes. It scrapes at his throat horribly, and it inflames his sinuses.

He’s exhausted at the end of it, his nose running as he tries to sniff and pretend it didn’t happen. He drags himself back into the bedroom, flopping back against the air mattress and pulling the covers around him a little tighter this time. It’s illogical, and not very Jughead, but he hopes that an hour or two more of sleep will do just the trick and end whatever this is.

Jughead is very wrong.

He wakes up an hour or two later to Archie suddenly lunging on top of him and viciously attacking him with cuddles. Jughead jolts awake, letting out a surprised gasp as his body temporally switches into panic mode.

“Archie!” Jughead groans, trying to push Archie off of him but he can’t quite wipe the fond smile on his face. Archie continues to assault him with hugs, and starts to shake the smaller boy.

“Then wake up!” Archie presses, causing Jughead to groan and take Archie’s outstretched hand and pulls himself up into a sitting position. His feeling of warmth and happiness is immediately yanked away from him when he becomes painfully aware of a reeling headache that makes him feel like he’s just been spun around repeatedly. The world tilts, and a wave of nausea hits him hard and Jughead tilts himself with the force of it.

Archie seems to notice and frowns, “You alright, dude?”

Jughead nods feebly, and blinks hard a few times to try and regain his composure and waits for the world to steady itself, incredibly stiff as not to upset his body any more, “Yeah, just a bit of a head-rush.”

“Alright then, go get yourself ready and head down when you’re done. I’ll go make some breakfast, dad’s gone to work early,” Archie says to him casually, standing up and heading towards the door.

“Ugh, you and cooking? I’d rather not get food poisoning, thanks, and you just got better, so,” Jughead teases.

Archie laughs heartily, “Its just cereal, Jug.”

An irresistible tickle spikes at Jughead’s throat, and his eyes water as he tries to hold them back, and the second Archie exits the room he stifles the breathy, chesty coughs into his elbow. He has to grip the air mattress to maintain balance and not to be completely doubled over by them. When he’s done, Jughead groans and forces himself to stand up, tipping over slightly as the world tilts again. He catches himself, hand shooting up to his aching ahead as he groans in pain.

He can’t let Archie know.

Jughead finally makes his way down to the kitchen and squints as the bright light assaults his eyes. He winces in pain as his headache intensifies, a small grunt escaping him as he blinks repeatedly.

“Jesus, finally,” Archie teases when he hears Jughead come in, back turned to him as he pours OJ into two glasses. He turns around and looks a little surprised.

“Nice bed head, Jug,” Archie observes as he passes the glass over to Jughead’s side of the table, taking his seat shortly after Jughead does.

Jughead slumps in his seat, feeling pretty out of it and just generally unwell. There’s a sickly feeling that looks over his entire being, he feels exhausted and unrested, like the last 8 or so hours of sleep didn’t just happen. He feels heavy and warm, and also cold in the most terrible way.

“Represents the state of my mind,” Jughead jokes, but his eyes are empty of his usual mischievous light.

Archie only scoffs and dips his spoon into his bowl to eat, only to look up at the sound of a series of breathy breaths and one drawn out inhale. He frowns as Jughead’s face scrunches up and body twists away from him and the table, snapping forward into his elbow with a tired sounding sneeze.

He raises an eyebrow.

Jughead sniffles boredly, barely acknowledging it. He thinks that maybe if he doesn’t act super defensive about it, Archie might just brush it off as a morning sneeze. Archie doesn’t press further, and Jughead holds back a smirk, proud of himself for upgrading his “im not sick” skills.

“Do you want to see a movie later?” Archie asks casually before he takes a sip from his OJ.

“I’m just really excited about not being sick and I just want to get out of the house, man. Also, the Bijou is cheaper on a Wednesday, tickets are only 5 bucks!”

Jughead chuckles at that, “Yeah sure, of course. What do you want to see?”

“I don’t know, you’re the movie buff.”

Jughead clears his throat, voice slightly hinted with congestion, “Well, there are currently two prime examples of cinema out currently. We could indulge ourselves in a masterful told, skillfully, thought provoking piece of fine cinema through Detroit or a exhilarating, wonderfully styled, white knuckling experience that is Logan Lucky.”

Jughead’s nose twitches for a second, and a brief moment of panic floods throughout him but he manages to recover, smiling brightly, “What say you, Archibald?”

Archie grins widely back at him, “I just got over my cold, I’d go with Logan Lucky for now.”

Jughead nods with approval, making mental note to go see Detroit another time, preferably when he’s feeling better. Then, Jughead is hit with the realisation that going to the movies with Archie was going to make hiding this from Archie pretty difficult.

But he wasn’t giving up, he could do this. Archie was pretty happy, and he hadn’t been the past few days and Jughead didn’t want to ruin this. He couldn’t bare seeing a frown on Archie’s face any longer.

Jughead wraps his denim jacket around him tightly, hoping that it would calm down his violent shivering. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to sniffle as discreetly as he could. He continued to listen to Archie tell his story about this Away Game with the Bulldogs, and while his friend was naturally endearing as always, his mind was blurred and infested by a feverish fog that made it hard for him to listen.

“Jesus Jug, its the middle of the summer and you’re still wearing a jacket,” Archie points out, red in the face from the heat, stretching out as they near the Bijou.

Jughead laughs a little at that, cringing at how wheezy he sounds, “Y'know, being such a cold person does come with its consequences. By the way, you look like a fucking strawberry, pal.”

Archie laughs loudly, and usually this sound is music to Jughead’s ears but it stings at his head, causing him to wince ever so slightly. Archie drapes a strong arm around his shoulder and pulls Jughead close to him as they approach the Bijou entrance.

Jughead can’t help the smile that spreads across his features as he enters the cinema. His eyes light up and twinkle as he looks around at the beautifully decorated cinema, lined with homages to classic Hollywood and fine cinema. He feels at home.

Archie presses his cheek against Jughead and smiles fondly, pressing a soft kiss against his partner’s hair, “I love taking you the cinema. Your eyes light up and it’s so adorable.”

Jughead scoffs and pushes Archie off him playfully, “Eugh, disgusting.”

He softens and bats Archie fondly on the shoulder, “Its how I feel when you play music. It’s..really nice.”

Archie smiles bashfully, ruffling Jughead’s hair, and a curl falls onto Jughead’s nose delicately. He pulls his wallet out of his pocket and begins to line up.

Jughead’s throat and nose begin to itch vigorously and simultaneously, pricking at the sensitive linings, eyes watering. He swallows awkwardly, frantically panicking on the inside.

He clears his throat, trying to keep his voice slow and steady as not to raise suspicion, “You go ahead and buy the tickets, I’ve really gotta piss.”

Archie makes a face and sticks his tongue out, and laughs, “Okay fine. Nachos and cheese and strawberry liquorice with a coke, right?”

Jughead begins to wheeze, turning his back against Archie so he can’t see him succumbing to his illness, flashing him a thumbs up as he quickly rushes to the bathroom.

Once he barges in he bursts into violent coughs, a chesty ring to his forceful explosions. He can’t seem to stop, tears streaming down his eyes as he continues to hack away. His chest is on fire. He can hear a faint wheeze to his breath as he is given a small window of time to rush and unravel a roll of toilet paper and hack violently again to get the phlegm out of his chest. Once he does, he throws that tissue away, and the tickle escalates to his nose where he shoves a fistful of tissues up to his face where he sneezes harshly three times.

He’s red faced and drained when he’s finished, falling back against the wall as he wipes away at irritated tears. He sniffles weakly, breathing heavily to regain oxygen in his system so he feels less faint. Then, his vision focuses and he looks up to see the eyes of Moose, staring at him with eyes of either disgust or concern–Jughead doesn’t care–and quickly leaves the bathroom to see the new Transformers movie, probably.

Jughead feels too sick to care about what Moose thinks of him. His feverish haze can’t even decipher what emotion Moose was staring at him with. Jughead groans and quickly splashes his face with water to regain his composure and try to look a little less like a ghost. He sniffles for good measure and makes sure to stuff both the pockets of his jeans and jackets with fistfuls of tissues.

When he leaves the bathroom he is greeted with Archie’s grinning face holding all of their food, though he looks slightly weary.

“Hey, what’s bothering you bud? You look the best when you’re happy,” Jughead says gently.

Archie blushes deeply and shakes his head, “Nah. I just saw Moose and he kinda scares me.”

“Archie, his name is ’Moose’, you’ll be okay,” Jughead jokes as he helps Archie take the food to their respective cinema.

“And your name is ’Jughead’,” Archie taunts playfully.

“Yes, and you aren’t scared of him, and he also happens to love you very much,” Jughead says, a little sluggishly and feverishly, but genuine all the same.

Archie blinked, surprised by this display of affection, but liking it all the same.

“Of course,” He smiles as they find their seats.

The movie is really good.

At least whatever the feverish haze is showing him is.

As the movie continues on a weak feeling begins to seep into Jughead’s bones and weighs down on him like a tonne of bricks. Jughead feels so heavy and sleepy and sluggish. He feels sick as a dog. He feels off, feverish and miserable.

Jughead takes his soda placed on the arm rest in between him and Archie and places it on the free one next to him and lifts the arm rest up. He snuggles next to Archie and tries to leech the warmth off of him, to soothe his trembling body. Jughead feels so miserable he wants to be held. In his feverish state the only thing he wants and needs right now is Archie Andrews.

Archie takes Jughead into his loving arms without any thought, wrapping one arm around his shoulder. He lets Jughead rest his head on his shoulder, to which he rests his head on top of Jughead’s in response. He enjoys this affection from Jughead, his viewing greatly improving. However, he suddenly frowns.

“You’re warm,” Archie whispers.

“I’m sitting next to a ray of sunshine, what did you expect?” Jughead rasps back, voice cracking, but smiling nonetheless.

Archie leaves it for the time being, although he can’t quite escape the worry brewing in his chest and Jughead can see it. They sit in silence for a while, and then suddenly Jughead is taking in a drawn out inhale, then he’s yanking a fistful of crumpled up tissues out of his pocket and shoving it against his nose. His body convulses and rattles as he stifles one, two, three sneezes into them. He lets out a breathy moan.

Archie blinks, and a clarity washes over him, then a look of uncertainty and guilt.

When the movie finishes, and the lights flicker back on Jughead stretches and grins in satisfaction.

“That was really good–I liked all the details added in, gave it a lot of depth,” He says happily, hoping to take Archie’s mind off of him.

Archie smiled and twists over to him and examines his face fondly, “I like details too. For example, the little freckles on your nose. They’re like little constellations on your face!”

Jughead flushes a little and rolls his eyes fondly, “Ugh, shut up.”

Archie runs a finger down the bridge of Jughead’s nose, and Jughead can’t resist the tickle that follows, and he pushes Archie off of him to sneeze twice into his elbow.

Archie lets out a deep sigh of guilt, “..Jug..I got you sick.”

“No you didn’t,” Jughead coughs.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” Archie says quietly, guiltily, unable to keep eye contact with him. He looks like a kicked puppy.

Jughead’s heart breaks, cupping Archie’s face and bringing it to him so he could look at him, “Hey, man. I don’t like this sadness thing on you. This isn’t your fault. Don’t be sad, buddy.”

Archie sighed softly, “How can I be happy when I’ve made you miserable?”

“You haven’t made me miserable. You make me so happy Archie. I’m sorry if I don’t..say it enough, but know that I’m always feeling it. Believe it or not, I love many things, Archie, but how particular my fondness of you.”

Archie can’t help but crack a smile at that, giggling softly, “Remind me to kick you in the ass if you don’t become a writer…but..I like it when you’re happy too, and you won’t be.”

Jughead gives him a reassuring smile, “This..doesn’t have to be miserable, Archie. You can take me out to ice cream and then we can watch Disney movies at home. What’s not to be happy about that? So..you in..?”

Archie grins, “Yeah, i totally am. As long as I’m with you.”