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#in her defense her life has been weird lately. but 'lately' has lasted long enough that it's just her life now. and whenever i try to be th
cowgurrrl · 1 year
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To Be Alone
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader (plus platonic Ellie Williams x fem!reader)
Author’s note: Your honor, he’s a slut
Summary: “Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and war.” - Nikita Gill, aka you and Joel realize how different your lives are in Jackson [1.1k]
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, a couch make out, Ellie being Ellie, the teeny tiniest bit of spice
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"Your hair is getting long," you say as you run your fingers through the length curling at Joel's neck. You smooth a curl between two fingers and count at least an extra inch and a half of new hair. He leans into your touch as he sits beside you on the couch, fiddling with whatever carving he's working on now. You swear this man was a cat in a past life. He's practically purring when you scrape your nails over his scalp. "D'you want me to cut it tonight?"
"You hate it that much?" He asks, and you shake your head, smiling.
"I love it, but I'm worried an Infected…" you trail off, your hands still in his hair as you think. Joel furrows his brows and turns to look at you, putting the wood down and resting a hand on your knee.
"What? What's wrong?"
"Can you remember the last time you had to get close to an Infected? Like close enough for them to grab your hair?" You ask. "Or even just a person?"
"The only person who's been pullin' at my hair lately is you." He smirks, and you pull his ear like a petulant child, making him laugh.
"I'm being serious, Joel!" You say. "Can you think of any other time since Outbreak Day that you've gone months without getting into a fistfight? Or even just a week?" Your voice is giddy even though you're talking about surviving. Joel thinks, staring pensively at his hands like they will give him the answer before he looks to you again.
"No, I can't."
"That's a big deal," You say, and he hums, rubbing his thumb over your kneecap. It feels weird now that you're thinking about it. For years, you went from fight to fight and never stopped to imagine what could be different. And now you're here, and you didn't even realize it's been months since your life has been at risk. "What do we even do with ourselves if we're not fighting?"
"Try not to die. Make nice things. Love each other. Maybe make the world a little bit better."
"That's very optimistic of you, Joel Miller."
"You made me an optimist." He says, and you press your tongue into your cheek as you smirk. You push onto your knees and straddle Joel's waist. He smiles and rests his hands on your hips, more than happy to have you so close.
"You're cheesy."
"You love it," He says as he kisses you. You cup his jaw and smile against him when his beard scratches your skin. He chases your lips when you lean back to make a snarky comment, effectively forcing the words from your brain. You moan when he licks past the seam of your lips, but the sound only spurs him on. His grip on your waist tightens as you rock against him, a desperate groan leaving him. Your mind is swimming when he dips down to press open-mouthed kisses to your neck. "What time is it?" He asks, scraping his teeth over your pulse point. You glance at your watch over his shoulder.
"Three-forty. Ellie said something about hanging out at Jesse's after school, though."
"So, we have an empty house to ourselves for a few more hours?" He asks, teasing the buttons of your shirt.
"Looks like it." You say as he flips your position and lays you on the couch. He positions himself above you and mouths at the column of your throat. You sigh, needy and impatient, and bury your hands in the hair at the nape of his neck. The sound of the door opening makes you both curse and sit up. Ellie's eyes practically roll out of her head when she sees you two.
"Seriously, guys?"
"She started it," Joel says, and you slap his arm. He looks guilty with his messy hair and swollen lips, and he knows it.
"I thought you were hanging out with Dina and Jesse tonight." You say, sounding slightly more defensive than you meant to be.
"I came home to grab my comic book, but even if I was hanging out with them, you still shouldn't do it on the couch!"
"Woah!" Joel screeches, and you laugh as you push him away.
"We were just kissing, weirdo! I think Joel and I should be allowed kiss in our own home."
"Well, just remember there are people, meaning me, who live here and don't want to see that." She says as she stomps up the stairs. As soon as she's out of earshot, you slap Joel's arm again, and he makes a fake pained noise.
"I can't believe you blamed me!"
"You're not any less guilty than I am!"
"I'm not the one who started with the touching and the kissing and the 'you made me an optimist' bullshit."
"I guess that's true," he concedes, a mischievous smile pulling at his lips. "What can I say? You make me a romantic."
"Oh my, God, shut up."
"Also, when are you gonna cut Joel's hair? It's getting way too long." Ellie asks as she runs back down the stairs. You hide your smile behind your hand as Joel looks at her and turns serious.
"I've actually decided to start growing my mullet out again."
"You did not have a mullet."
"Oh, yeah. Back in Texas, all the cool guys had one."
"Why'd you have one, then?" She quips, and you nearly fall out of your seat from laughing so hard. Ellie laughs, too, but Joel just shakes his head.
"Don't you have some dumbass friends to hang out with?"
"I actually do," Ellie does an overdramatic bow before heading for the front door. "See ya, losers!"
"Be home by ten!" You call after her.
"I can't hear you!"
"Ellie Williams, you better be home by ten, or I'm sending Joel after you!" She groans from her place in the doorway but doesn't argue before finally walking out the door. Joel chuckles when he sees your exasperated look. "She gets that from you, you know."
"Gets what from me?"
"The drama, the grumpiness, the teasing," you say as he leans into you, his lips ghosting over yours as you talk. "Oh, and she's totally perfected the Miller scowl."
"There is not a Miller scowl." He says as he kisses you, trying to distract you.
"If anybody would know about the Miller scowl, it's me," You argue against his lips, and he sighs, the space between his eyebrows creasing. "You're doing it right now!"
"You know you're a Miller, too, right?"
"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes as he kisses you again, this time with enough force to steal the air out of your lungs. You tangle your hands in his too-long hair and let him slowly undo the buttons on your shirt. He quickly finds all the little scars and marks he's become so familiar with in the past few years with his mouth. It's almost embarrassing how easily you keen under his touch. "You better get up and lock that door if you're gonna fuck me on this couch, cowboy."
You don't know if you've ever seen Joel in as big of a rush as he was to lock the front door.
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Tag list: @evyiione @nyotamalfoy @abbyhaslongshorts
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thirstyforlulu · 3 years
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Yandere Hellsing x Reader HCs? Including Millennium
Integra:
She’s a very possessive yandere
With her money and power, she has the means to get her hands on you
She’s good at playing cool, you won’t catch on for a while
Sure you notice that she never sends you on missions and that she’s always having you work near her office, but that’s just her being a good friend
When she decides to approach you romantically, she’s very forward
Around you she’s a touch starved animal, unlike her usual put together appearance
If you deny her feelings or try to run, get ready because she’s not giving up that easily
She’ll pull whatever strings she has to in order to find you
She’ll spend thousands bribing people or tracking you
Once she knows where you are, she’ll send Alucard to collect you
When she has you she’s very loving
She’ll want to constantly be touching you in some way
Usually that means sitting beside her while she works at her desk
As long as you’re good, she’ll let you wander the entirety of the manor
Since you tried to run she’s added all sorts of security measures so you can’t get out
Act up though and she will chain you to the wall in her office
“Y/N, your behavior has been deplorable lately and needs correcting.
Don’t give me those sad eyes, this is all your fault.”
Walter:
He’s a sneaky yandere
Very observant, he’ll learn your patterns and preferences
At the start he’ll leave you gifts like your favorite food or pretty flowers
He uses it as an excuse to get closer to you
He’s always offering to do favors for you, secretly lowering your defenses around him
He’s not the type to take anything from you but he will take the time to appreciate them
If you let him clean your room he’ll likely pause to sniff some clothes
You notice how much he knows about you but you just think he’s very observant
You don’t realize it’s due to his obsession
He’s the type to take more precautions
If you deny his advances he’ll lock you up somewhere, probably his room
He’ll get chains and a cage if necessary
If you really act up, he’ll lock you in the basement
The way you cling to him in fear after spending all night in the dark is addictive
His wires are always nearby
If you try to run you’ll only get a few steps out the door before the wires wrap you up and pull you back
He does his best not to hurt you, but if you struggle too much, a few cuts are inevitable
Seras:
She’s a very clingy yandere
She’ll want you on every mission she goes on
When you have free time she’ll take you out into the area nearby for some quality time
If you ever push her away, she gets angry
She’ll pout like a child then force her way into whatever it is you’re doing
At the time, she’ll act like it’s just a coincidence and you might even believe her
You’re not getting rid of her so easily
She’s also a very sweet yandere
If she feels she’s hurt your feelings she’ll go out of her way to get you presents or treat you nicely
Until you say you forgive her, she won’t stop pampering you
No one else is allowed near you, not even Integra
She’ll make excuses and do whatever it takes to keep you to herself
She would never kidnap you or lock you up because she hates to see you sad, but her “loving” behavior will be a trap in itself
Don’t forget that despite how cute she is, she’s still a powerful monster that can and will do what it takes to keep you
If that means making you one of her familiars then so be it
Alucard:
He’s a terrifying yandere
He can control you and the people around you, holding you captive
You’re not a stupid person, you know how easily he could end your life, so you tend to let it all happen
On the plus side, he’s very passionate and often brings you gifts
He’s such a smooth talker you’ll end up forgetting the terrifying threats he’s made in the past
Anyone who flirts with you will mysteriously disappear
Anyone who hurts you will turn up days later torn to shreds in a ditch
He would never do anything to hurt you, but that doesn’t stop him from making threats
“I could tear you apart just like that man from last week. I would love to hear your moans of anguish, but I’d prefer moans of pleasure.”
When you act out he manhandles you
He’ll press you against a wall and bite your neck to remind you of your place
He enjoys when you become complicit, but he likes when you’re occasionally act out
It gives him an excuse to punish you, which he always loves
After that, you’ll think twice before disobeying him
Millenium:
Jan:
Bro this man is already wild
When he sets his sights on you it’s go time
He won’t let anyone else near you or get to know you, not even his brother
He’ll threaten people, meeting them after work for overstepping their boundaries
He’s very touchy, like he’s trying to leave his scent all over you
Out in public, he’ll hang on you, showing others that you’re already taken
He’ll growl at people that look at you too long when passing by
He flicks a lot of people off, all the time but more so when he’s around you
He’s paranoid and doesn’t like anyone else around you, even friends
Clearly he’s a fan of body modification so if he can convince you he’ll want to get some kind of matching piercing/tattoo
If you get it, he’ll pay special attention to it any time you cuddle, running his fingers over it countless times
He can be very intense so he might yell at you, but when he sees the hurt look in your eyes he backs off
In his own weird way, he loves you and doesn’t want to see you hurting
But if he has to hurt you to keep you then so be it
Luke:
He’s not as subtle as he thinks he is
He tries to play it cool, but if someone tries to touch you he will blatantly smack their hand away
Always has an excuse to be around you and if he doesn’t, he’ll find one
He’s not as touchy as Jan, but he does like to hold your hand
You’ll feel his pinky brush against you before his hand completely envelops yours
His grip tightens when he sees you looking at others
Your attention is something he so desperately craves
He gives you every moment of his time and he wants you to do the same
If you’re ever in danger he’s there before anyone else even knows
It helps that he was already watching you
Be ready to compensate him
At first he’s just worried about you, but then once he knows you’re alright, he’ll start making demands
“You owe me for coming to your rescue dear. Or would you like me to toss you back? Maybe then you’ll beg me in such a cute way.”
Rip:
She does not care what other people think
She’ll ruin relationships to get closer to you
She’ll endanger her own job if it keeps you two apart
Doing favors is how she gets closer to you
Anytime you need something she’s there and ready to go
She’d leave in the middle of a mission if she hears you need help
Anyone causing you problems will be slaughtered and presented to you as a gift
“See y/n, I took off their heads just for you.”
She can get very aggressive especially if she thinks you’re denying her advances
She won’t hurt you, beyond a little pinch or so, but she’ll make threats
She’s very sadistic and would be willing to lock you up
Having you as a pet is actually an attractive idea to her
She’ll take good care of you wherever you’re locked up, but she won’t allow many freedoms
“Look at my pretty pet. How lucky am I.”
The Captain:
He’s like a pet, always following you around
He’ll growl at people he doesn’t like around you
His arms are always around you, keeping you close
No one else is allowed to tend to you after missions
When he’s patching you up, he’ll run his hands along your arms and legs, lovingly caressing your limbs
He’ll use that as an excuse to stay around you
Popping in to “check on you” at all hours
You won’t even know he’s come in until he’s sitting on the edge of your bed
He’s the type the would sit there for a moment watching you breathe
If he can, he’ll try to get you to be his assistant
If he can convince the higher ups that he needs one, he’ll do whatever he can
Then he’ll be around you even when he works and will be able to protect you
No one on the battlefield will be able to even get close to you
He’ll ignore his own tasks to protect you
He’s extremely loyal and obsessive
The Doctor
Oh man it is terrifying when he has his eye on someone
He views it like just another experiment, wanting to test and push you
He’ll have you coming to him for “examinations” all the time
He’d likely put a bug on you
Suddenly he knows things you don’t remember telling him, but you can’t prove anything
People you like start disappearing, people you had no idea he knew about
If he suspects you’re starting to catch on and trying to get away, he’ll start drugging you
Then you’ll have to come to him if you’re going to get better
While he’s treating you, he’ll trick you mentally manipulating you to grow closer to him
You’re going to think so highly of him, forgetting all the red flags you’d seen before
He is absolutely a gas lighter but he’s damn good at it
Even if you have experience with this stuff you won’t pick up on it
It’s a game of cat and mouse with him
The Major
He is not subtle and does not care
Your needs or emotions don’t matter to him
If you don’t respond well to his advances he will make terrible threats
If that doesn’t work he’ll take it a step further, allowing the ghouls to get close to taking a bite out of you
Torture is the next step
He doesn’t care about your mood, he has to have you
“Y/N, why do you fight so hard when you know I’m just going to hurt you again?”
He’ll want to do most of it by hand, but if he needs to he will get the others involved
“Would you like me to make a spectacle out of you? I think the others would enjoy that.”
Behave and he won’t hurt you
If he gets mad enough he’ll remove your arms and legs
You’ll become his good little doll, always on display for him
Like a bird in a cage, you’re his favorite display item
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mellowyandere · 3 years
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You’re Ours to Protect
Had a weird dream last night. Thought you might enjoy it. 
Reader: F
Characters: Toshinori Yagi (All Might), Aizawa Shouta (Eraserhead), Yamada Hizashi (Present Mic)
Summary: Your time as an anti-hero might finally be coming to an end. With three pros on your tail it’s a miracle this didn't happen sooner. (Reader has a quirk but it’s not very important to the smut.)
Length: 4.5 K (I have come to the conclusion that I am incapable of writing below 4 K)
Warnings: non-con, yandere themes, slight bondage/restraints, voyeurism, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, anal fingering, anal sex, M/M/F, mostly clothed male, naked reader, slight cum swallowing, Eraserhead and Present Mic are in an established relationship in this fic. 
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Hands were on your body, hands that shouldn’t be there. Your mind was stuck in a fog, your limbs so heavy you could barely move them. What was going on? You strained to remember, thinking long and hard about what might have led you here as calloused fingers blazed trails along your exposed thighs. You managed to wiggle your limbs a bit, shaking off the haze that muddled your brain.
You groaned, trying to open your eyes so you can get a better understanding of your surroundings. Your hands were restrained behind your back but it seemed your legs were free. You'd murder who ever had their fucking hands on you. As your eyes adjusted to the light you couldn't help but groan again as the figure in front of you came into view. You tried and failed to subtly use your quirk, this didn’t look good.
“Eraserhead. Didn’t realize you were still wasting your time looking for me. Not my fault I beat you to that criminal. Hero’s leaving trash like him alive is such a stupid concept. He was a murderer you know.” 
You looked around to the best of your ability as you spoke, you were sitting on a plush dark green couch in what appeared to be a relatively empty basement. You had been stripped of your gear, leaving you in your underwear and an oversized t-shirt. Two men were flanking you on the couch. The one to your left you didn't recognize. He was ridiculously tall, as well as skinny. Blond hair a mess as two long bangs hid his eyes from view. To your right was a pro you did recognize. His emerald green eyes sparkled in delight behind his civilian glasses as he grinned down at you. So it was their hands on your body currently. They’d die first then. 
“So, what does that make you?” the dark haired pro murmured, leaning forwards and somewhat regaining your attention. 
You ignored his question, opting to look about some more. There wasn't a one-way mirror or any recording device in sight. Were they interrogating you off the books? This whole situation seemed off, these were heroes right? They’d convict you and leave you to rot in a dingy jail cell somewhere.. but this didn't look like a normal interrogation room. 
“I know this is my first time getting caught and all but this doesn’t really seem up to protocol. Gonna haul me away after having fun or something?” You shifted your gaze to the obsidian eyes in front of you, leaning forwards to mimic his posture. 
Present Mic barked out a laugh, hand squeezing harder on you thigh much to your annoyance. “Sorry babe but prison won’t be your final destination! I mean after all y’aint evil, just a lil misguided is all, nothin’ three pros can’t fix.” He ended his sentence with a pinch to your leg. 
“If you don’t get your fucking hands off me I’ll kill you!” You snarled, turning and getting up in Present Mic’s face. The tall blond to your left pulled his hands back, scooting away as Present Mic continued to leer down at you. 
“HAH little girls got some bite, but we already knew that. Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to use that quirk. I’m hurt now! You really would try to kill me huh?” he mocked with a fake pout, but you could see the amusement in his eyes. 
“I’m sure you’ve already realized by now you can’t use your quirk. It wasn’t easy making a device to cancel it out, but thanks to our newest colleague here the hardest part was collecting your DNA and picking what color collar we wanted.” Eraserhead leaned forward, fingers tugging on the collar you only now just realized was around your neck.
You tried to bite him, but he pulled back. If only you could wipe that stupid smirk off his face with a heart attack. Your quirk was the ability to clot blood after all. A handy trick if you found yourself injured, but even more so for killing once you learned how to properly control it. No one really batted an eye at an ischemic stroke due to the clotting of an artery to the brain. Well.. almost nobody.. 
“You have a very impressive ability,” the tall blond stated, “in all honesty we probably wouldn’t have caught on if we hadn’t watched you kill. You’ve induced countless of natural looking deaths, but upon closer inspection you target people whose crimes would have landed them in jail. Noble, but very misguided. You’re pretty reckless though, what if you had gotten hurt?” 
“So fucking what if I did.” You kept your eyes glued to Present Mic as you responded, trusting him a lot less than the man behind you. His eyes narrowed dangerously at your snarky rebuttal.
“Language young lady, and that’s no way to talk! What would compel you to risk your life, why don’t you trust your hero’s more?” 
You clenched your teeth in frustration but didn’t respond. You were done cooperating, not like you were doing much to begin with though.
The scrapping of a metal chair on concrete drew your gaze as Eraserhead stood up. 
“Back up Zashi, I’ll take over from here. Toshinori you’re fine where you are.” 
You couldn’t help but struggle a bit at his words. “What do you mean, what the hell are you going to do!? You insane or something? Just turn me in to the police!”
“You really don't pay attention do you. Hizashi already said you’re not going to the police. I don’t know what skeletons you have in your closet, or why you started killing people, but that will come out in due time. For now you don’t have to kill anymore. The three of us will take care of you, without the law sentencing you to life. We’ve been hunting you down for so long. We’ve been very patient, but right now you need us to help show you what you’ve been missing. Running around all by yourself, you must have been so lonely.” Eraserhead finished up his little spiel as he stalked forwards, looming over your sitting frame. 
“Don’t fucking TOUC-gah!” You had been so focused on Eraserhead’s approach you hadn’t noticed Present Mic coming at you with a gag until it was too late. 
“Yagi already asked you to watch that dirty mouth of yours, don’t worry though babe once you simmer down a bit we’ll take it out.”
“Ple-please Hizashi call me Toshinori we’ve been over this.”
You gave Eraserhead your best glare as he stopped in front of you. He smiled softly at your defiance before wedging his knee in between your legs and slamming his hands onto the couch, caging you in. Wait by show you what you were missing.. these hero's were going to..?
You tried to talk reason, but all that came out were muffled pleas. None of it coherent. 
“We’ve been watching over you for 5 months now kitten. Trying to find the best way to approach you but in the end taking you somewhere safe seemed to be the only logical solution. While getting this house ready for your arrival we all started to feel as if you belonged here all along. I know it’s not fair, we’ve had so much longer to get to know you, but you’ll know us just as well soon enough.”
It was official. These pros had lost their damn minds. They actually figured out how to justify what they were about to do to you. Your promise to only kill criminals was really coming back to bite you on the ass. 
You brought your legs up and tried to kick him off, but were quickly thwarted by two pairs of hands grabbing them and pinning you down. 
“Now now sweetheart none of that, Shouta here is just going to show you our conviction. No one will ever hurt you again now that we are here. Now that I am here” The last part was mumbled more to himself than the group. 
Something must have happened to these men to cause their hero complex to grow into something so twisted. But that was no fucking excuse for their actions. They needed therapy, not someone to play damsel in distress with.
Shouta lowered himself between your legs until he was kneeling on the floor in front of you. You tried to plead with your eyes, beg him to stop, but he met your gaze with something bordering love. That wasn’t good. Breaking eye contact he looked down at your underwear, bringing a hand up you held your breath as he gently brushed against your core. 
“You can’t even begin to imagine how much I’ve dreamed of this moment. You truly are something special, and yet you treat your life with such little regard it’s maddening.” He trailed his knuckles against the thin fabric as he spoke, your traitorous body sparking heat in your lower abdomen in anticipation. 
Pulling your underwear to the side he slowly began to slide his fingers up and down your progressively wetting folds. 
“Well now, someone secretly enjoyin’ themselves baby,” Hizashi all but purred, his hand squeezing your flesh while his gaze was transfixed on where his partner was violating you. You couldn’t help but let out a pitiful whine. It was absolutely humiliating being spread out before these three men. 
The noises your wet cunt were making were no help to your embarrassment, and they only got worse once the dark haired pro rid you of your last line of defense and began to insert two of his fingers. 
“H-how does she feel?” Toshinori couldn’t help but ask. His face was flushed red, along with the tips of his ears as his vibrant blue eyes watched Shouta’s fingers slowly sink inside you. 
“Tight, shit she’s tight. She’s perfect, so fucking wet for her hero's. I’ll work you open kitten don’t worry.” You couldn’t help but clamp down on his fingers at his words, earning a deep chuckle in response. 
“See now, such a good girl aren’t you. Prison is no place for you kitten, though if you want we can always role-play your wardens.”
Role-play my ass we’re already living it, was all you could think bitterly. 
As if he read your mind Shouta couldn’t help but continue to antagonize you, thumb beginning to make light circles against your clit as he pumped his fingers, adding a third and quickly burying them knuckle deep. Soft whimpers slipped from your mouth as you tried in vain to wiggle away from Eraserhead’s deft fingers. 
Hizashi was getting impatient, removing one of his hands to grasp your breast through the t-shirt you had on. His slim fingers began to pinch and rub your nipple, though his eyes never left your cunt. 
Toshinori was struggling in his own way. Raspy breaths with slight coughs as he grew more and more aroused. He too removed a hand from your leg, but instead made quick work of the zipper on his pants. Taking his semi hard cock in his hand he began gently stroke himself while watching your display. 
You truly were everything they had ever wanted. But you didn’t want this, despite your bodies responses to their ministrations. You could feel it, Shouta seemed to know exactly where to stroke as he worked you up tighter and tighter, velvety walls clamping down at your approaching climax. 
You found each man murmuring their own words of praise, anywhere from “That’s it baby girl, take all of Sho now,” to “Such a perfect princess, do you want to finish?” The man between your legs even adding to the mantra of soft words spoken to you. “So close kitten, see what good girls get. You’re going to cum for me okay?” 
He posed it like a question but you knew it was far from it. It was a statement, a matter of fact statement that you couldn’t deny even if you had tried. Your back arched, moans and mewls intercepted but not completely blocked out by your gag as you rocked against his hand. He gladly continued to finger you, watching as you came down from your high and only then removed his hand. 
You were panting hard, shame quickly washing away the pleasure from your orgasm. Sensing the shift in your demeanor Hizashi was quick to pounce, peppering your face in kisses despite your shifty protests and groans of despair. “None of that now babe, after all we’re just gettin’ this show started!” 
Shouta stood and moved out from between your legs, licking some of your slick off his hand before he wiped the rest on his black pants leg. “You got lube Zashi?” Hizashi paused his attack and shot the dark haired pro a million dollar smile. “You bet our babes cute ass I got it! Lemme find it, hold her Toshi.”
Toshinori floundered a bit, cock in hand as Hizashi shoved you closer to him, before jumping up from the couch. Eyes trailing down to his hand you couldn’t help but freeze in shock. Not only was this man stupid tall, his dick was frighteningly large. The older hero noticed your stare and couldn’t help but chuckle a bit at your expression. “Don’t worry princess, Shouta and Hizashi are going to help you today. My sides acting up so I’ll only be watching.” 
As if on cue the man was hit by a coughing fit, and much to your surprise he even coughed up some blood. Eraserhead was still looming over you, leaning over he gently rubbed the older blonds back as he tried to ease him through the pain. You didn’t dare move as all this transpired around you. What good would it have done you anyways? You were effectively quirkiness, and your fighting skills would be severely lacking against the two heroes you knew. You had no idea who this Toshinori guy was, but if he was close to Eraserhead and Present Mic you doubted he was weak. 
You heard Hizashi rummaging behind you through a dresser you hadn’t noticed earlier. Craning your neck, you peered over and cried out in frustration. 
“Tada!” He sung triumphantly, a small bottle of lube in his hand. “Act two can now officially begin!” You could only yell and wiggle about in protest, your arms still tied behind your back. Toshinori’s hand on your thigh moved to gently pat you on the head. 
“Behave now for them okay? If you’re good we can show you the rest of our home after this.” 
You jerked your head out from under his hand and yelled more incoherent nonsense out of frustration. You had expected anger to replace the adoring look in his eyes but you were only met with fond amusement. 
He stood up with a hearty laugh, erection still in hand as he grabbed Shouta’s discarded chair, sitting down facing the couch. Shouta was quick to take Toshinori’s place on the couch while Hizashi took up residence behind you. 
“I have a feelin’ this star ain’t a fan of the spotlight, no need to be camera shy babe.” You watched Shouta roll his eyes at his partner in crime before he began to manhandle you. Hands under your armpits he pulled you up and wrangled you onto your knees facing him on the couch. 
Hizashi slid one knee between your legs so you couldn't close them. Your tied hands couldn’t help but brush up against his clothed hard on, causing him to rut against you a bit in anticipation. 
Without warning he took a solid grip of your t-shirt and ripped it off. You squeaked in surprise, your face heating up as you realized you were the only person fully naked in the room. 
“Was it really necessary to rip my shirt?”
“Sorry about that Toshi! Didn’t want to delay the show with takin’ off her bindings yah dig? You rip them a bunch anyways so what’s another to the pile? But ain’t this just so much better, our baby girl on full display it makes my heart swoon!”
“Just get her ready Hizashi, and no rushing it, you don’t want to hurt her.”
“Aight aight sorry I’ll get to work, you keep her happy.”
Both men moved closer, pressing your body between them. They had propped themselves up on their knees and had you effectively stuck. Shouta gently placed one hand around your neck, giving your collar a tug, while the other trailed down and began to gently work your still wet pussy. 
You stared into his chest, trying your best to space out but jerked back to reality when you heard the pop of a lid behind you. 
“Don’t worry babe I’ll get you ready, I’m somewhat of a pro yah know?” 
That was when you felt his lubed finger gently prodding your other hole. You jolted forwards into Shouta who didn’t even budge in response to your full body weight. Hizashi simply shuffled closer, continuing to push until finally he breached you. You whimpered at the uncomfortable intrusion. 
Shouta's fingers lazily worked your cunt as he rocked his erection against your lower abdomen. Despite the fact that you hated the feeling of his growing arousal you couldn’t help but lean into him to try and get away from Hizashi as he slipped another finger inside. Tears slowly rolled down your face in frustration as the two heroes prepared your body. 
“There we go kitten, you’re doing so well. Just be patient alright and it won’t hurt so bad.” Shouta removed his hand from around your neck and placed it on your head, angling your gaze to the third member of the group you had almost forgotten while pulling you flush to his clothed chest so you couldn’t freely change your field of view. 
Toshinori was leaned back in the metal folding chair, which looked comically small with him sitting on it. His eyes were clouded with lust as he stroked his thick cock. His own pre-cum and spit adding obscene noises to his ministrations. He gave you a lopsided smile as you made eye contact, causing you to quirky avert your gaze. 
By this point Hizashi had worked three fingers knuckle deep into your tight hole, but coupled with Shouta’s work the line between uncomfortable and pleasurable began to mix together. A breathless moan escaped you as the two pros finally got their desired reaction. 
“She’s as good as she’s gonna get Sho, let’s say you and me start the finale I can’t take feelin’ her tight lil hole clamping down on my fingers any longer. Not when I got somethin’ much better for her.”
Your tears flowed a bit faster at your impending fate. This was fucking insane! You might have been a murderer, but you weren't expected to be a good person unlike these men. These heroes who were now violating you.
Since Shouta was in black sweatpants he merely leaned back a bit and pulled them down, cock springing free. He had a solid girth to him, red tip dripping pre down his shaft to his unruly black pubic hair. You heard a zipper behind you as the blond freed himself, though due to being squashed between the two you had no idea what to prepare for. 
Hizashi hummed in contemplation at your tied hands, currently in the way of his objective. “Bonds might have to go Sho, you get her hands?” The sleepy hero merely nodded grasping your wrists as Hizashi swiftly untied them. 
“Ready now primadonna?”
“Ha ha you’re soo funny Sho... but yes, shit, I’m fucking ready.”
You kept quiet this time, head pressed against Shouta’s chest as you listened to his rapidly beating heart. You gave one last pleading look to the lean blond watching intently from the sideline, but all he did was shrug his shoulders with a small smile on his face. 
“You’re going to do great princess don’t worry.” 
You felt the tips of each man at their respective entrance, Shouta's teasing your soaking cunt while Hizashi lightly probed your lubed ass. You closed your eyes and accepted defeat. They gently began to rut their hips, cocks sinking deeper with each thrust. You felt uncomfortably full as they breached you. 
“Oh fuck oh fuck I can feel you through her.” The blond quickly grabbed your breasts, tweaking your nipples like he had earlier. 
“Easy does it kitten, we got you,” Shouta groaned out. 
You weren’t a fan of Hizashi behind you, rocking forward into Shouta as they continued to fuck into you. He squeezed down on your wrists in warning, hot breath fanning the top of your head. It didn’t take much longer before they both had finally bottomed out. You groaned in distress while they groaned in bliss. 
“I’ve got her wrists you help her out alright, and take it easy.”
“Sheesh I heard yah the first time, I’ll help our lil girl out.”
Hizashi snaked a hand in between you and Shouta, finding your clit. 
They both continued fucking into you, Hizashi matching Shouta’s pace as they stimulated your body. You were angry, humiliated, and yet somehow you were so turned on it was embarrassing. You should be thrashing about, snarling into your gag, but instead all you could do was rock your body to their salacious tempo. 
Peeking your eyes open at a particularly hard thrust from Hizashi you saw Toshinori on the edge of the chair. You could just barely make out his raspy breaths and small moans over Shouta and Hizashi’s groaning. His brilliant blue eyes bore into your own. One of his hands worked his long shaft while the other was death gripping his clothed thigh. It almost looked as if steam was pouring off of him. Was he always that muscular?
You didn’t have long to contemplate Toshinori though, with a pinch to your clit Hizashi made sure to regain your attention. He had picked up his pace, throwing Shouta a bit off balance. He leaned down sucking and biting at your neck while rolling your perky nipple. Shouta felt your velvety walls clamp down around his cock, picking up his tempo to match Hizashi’s.
By now you were a mess. Traitorous moans fumbling from your mouth as the two heroes played your body. They had picked up an alternating tempo, never leaving you without a cock inside your body. The pleasure had you throwing your head back, leaving your neck exposed and making room for Shouta to join Hizashi in leaving little claiming bites all along your delicate skin. 
“She’s getting close Hizashi, we’re gonna fuck her through it alright?”
The blond pro behind you only moaned out something that sounded vaguely affirmative, eager to feel your tight walls clamp down on him. 
You were beyond fighting them, on the brink of orgasm all it took was one pointed thrust from Shouta to have you crumbling apart. You pushed back into Hizashi’s chest, his t-shirt sticking to your sweat soaked skin as you clamped down on both of them. Hizashi moaned into your neck, his quirk picking up a bit as he lost his composure. Shouta had released your hands, ripping off your gag so he could grab your face and crash his mouth to yours, swallowing your moans as your newly freed hands grabbed fist fulls of his shirt to stabilize yourself. 
As stated they continued fucking into you, dragging out your orgasm as your walls spasmed around them. Shouta’s tongue delved into your mouth, his own deep moans rumbling into you. 
“Go-gonna fuckin’ cum Sho, n- not much longer.”
In response Eraserhead reached behind you, grabbing a fist full of the blonds hair and giving it a firm tug which was enough to push him over the edge. 
“Sh-shit,” he wheezed, hips stilling as his cum filled your sore ass. “You fu- you fucking dirty cheater makin’ me finish first like that.” In kind Hizashi grabbed some of Shouta’s hair, pulling his mouth away from yours and up to his own. 
“Go ahead and cum in her Sho you know you want to,” Hizashi taunted between kisses. The familiar sound of metal against concrete drew your gaze as the all too familiar symbol of peace stood at his full height. Holy fucking shit it was All Might. 
The two pros ignored his approach, Shouta’s hips becoming a bit more deranged as he fucked into you. All Might reached in between the two and gripped your lower jaw, dazzling smile almost blinding you.
“Be a good girl now and open for me, you don’t have to swallow it all but I’d appreciate the effort.” He didn’t leave you with much of a choice finding it impossible to close your mouth with his grip, which at this point was very sore from the gag. The tip of his large member gently brushed against your lips as he shuttered at the feeling of your soft flesh. 
By this point Shouta was thrusting aggressively against your battered cervix, mouth locked with Hizahi’s as he finally reached his own release. His hips stuttered as warmth filled your cunt. 
Now all that was left was All Might. Your jaw strained to accommodate him, but he seemed to be more than aware of your limitations. He simply pushed the tip in, one hand stroking his shaft while the other gently pet your head. 
“So pretty,” he cooed down at you. “Just like that princess, I’m gonna cum now okay?” 
You simply kept your mouth open, tongue flat against the underside of his still cock as his cum filled your mouth. The bitter taste made you sputter, cum running down your chin as more took its place. After a couple more spurts he gently pulled away, some of the bitter substance sliding down your throat while the majority ended up down your chin and onto the couch below. 
All four of you were panting, frozen in time until finally All Might disappeared in a large cloud of smoke. The man you had originally believed to be some unknown hero named Toshinori now stood in his place, shyly looking down at you. 
“I guess that’s one way to show her huh big guy.” Hizashi jested. 
“I-I know probably not the most ideal but I couldn’t help myself,” he murmured a bit embarrassed. 
Hizashi and Shouta pulled out, their cum immediately running down your legs causing you to cringe a bit at the sensation. 
“You guys.. fucking suck.” was all you could think of at the moment. You waited for the rage, for them to berate or attack you, but instead all that met you was a chorus of soft chuckles.
“Figured you wouldn’t be easy to convince kitten, but don’t worry. Between the three of us you’ll come around.” 
These three men must have some thick fucking skulls to dismiss you so casually, that or their obsession was a lot deeper than you could even begin to comprehend. 
“Some fucking heroes you are,” you grumbled lowly.
“Some fuckin’ heroes we are indeed cutie! HAH get it? Cause we just fucked yah?” Hizashi laughed at his own joke while Toshinori and Shouta groaned. 
“Alright don’t make me gag you next, let’s just get everybody upstairs and clean up. We’ll do the house tour later kitten, for now we’ll just show you to your room.” 
2K notes · View notes
mrslilyrogers · 3 years
Text
All I have to do is Dream Part 3
Pairing: Steve x Reader, Telepath! Reader (X-men reader)
Summary: It’s been five years since the snap. You and Steve are stuck at an impasse. You want a family, he doesn’t. He says he’s moved on but has he really? With your doubts growing, you consider risking his trust and use your powers on him to get your answers once and for all.
Author’s notes: This is late and not as long as I hoped it would be but hope you all enjoy! There might be one more part left to this series and maybe an epilogue. 
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Eight voicemails and twelve messages. Eight voicemails and twelve messages from the person you wanted to talk to the most. Everyday for the past few weeks since you left, he called. And everyday your hands itched to reach out and call back but you stopped yourself. 
“I love her!” 
His voice echoed in your head. Enough was enough. Your fingers kneaded your temples, trying to alleviate the headache forming there. It didn’t help that there was a dark gnawing feeling in your gut, something was wrong. You knew it. A sixth sense, if you will. It happened the first time your powers manifested. You had been eight then, in front of the television with your dad when suddenly, your heart started to beat faster, your breaths coming in short pants, and your forehead dotted in sweats; a strong sense of foreboding crept under your skin and ever since then, life had never been the same. 
That night, you slept in a restless slumber; trapped under a heavy spell while you watched your father as a young boy. You had no idea how you knew the man who carried you over his shoulders, who seemed so strong and indestructible to your child’s eyes, was this same little boy you watched. You couldn’t understand it, you were dreaming but it was so real. Every detail as crisp as if you had been there and witnessed it. It wasn’t long before it all changed, everything before you cast in a darker shade, the people around you in black, sliding apologetic glances towards the somber boy standing in between his grandparents. You started to break out in a cold sweat, you were at a funeral. The boy’s parents, your father’s parents, just died. You ran, screaming, your heart racing, trying to find a way to get out. You couldn’t stay here, you couldn’t. But the more frantic you became, the more everything jumbled, bringing out his worst fears and nightmares and all you could do was scream, helpless and trapped. 
Oddly enough, that was how you felt now. Despite leaving Steve for the sake of the both of you, you were trapped, helpless to the niggling thought at the back of your mind that something was about to go horribly wrong. You tried to remember everything Xavier Institute has taught you, you were a telepath and with it came a natural intuition you couldn’t ignore. A heightened sense of empathy and awareness. 
You understood people even when they barely gave you a chance to be understood. You still remembered all those times people ran away from you. Those you considered your closest friends, even your teachers, treated you as if you were the plague. Their thoughts filled with dread and terror while you desperately tried to explain yourself but the more agitated you became, the more you lost control. It gave you no other choice but to distance yourself from them, getting homeschooled and keeping to yourself as much as you could. Your father tried his best, you knew he did but he could never look at you the same way. You didn’t have to get into his head to hear his cries at night, worrying and wondering where he went wrong.
It wasn’t long before Professor X found you and invited you to join his school for the gifted. School for the gifted. There was a time you couldn’t say that without a roll to your eyes, how could it have been a gift when all it ever caused you was sorrow? The day it was finally time for you to leave the only home you’ve ever known, your father’s relief was palpable in the air. He never gave voice to it and instead promised to visit as often as he could but even then, you knew he wouldn’t have been able to keep up. He visited you less and less as time went on until your relationship was reduced to a couple of phone calls barely lasting five minutes long. 
That was why you learned never to get too close. You owed to the X-Men who you were today. They had given you a place to call home, somewhere to belong to. For all the years you spent at the institute, they were nothing but kind to you, encouraging you, helping you hone your abilities and to cope with the loss of your former life. They gave you a fresh start, a new family and it should’ve been enough and in some ways, it is. But there was always a part of yourself you couldn’t give no matter how hard you tried and so the moment you could leave, you left. You wandered on your own, occasionally coming back to visit and catch up before leaving again, never planting any roots. That was the way you wanted it, that way you could never get hurt. 
Until Steve.
He instantly broke down your defenses and what was supposed to be a one-timer mission turned longer than you would’ve ever dreamed. You would’ve been lying if you said you didn’t stay with the Avengers because of him. The truth was as much as staying with them was fulfilling, there was a part of him that called out to you. You understood him, a man out of his time. Out of place. All you’ve ever felt your whole life. His loneliness drew you to him like a moth to a flame. He never showed it, too proud to admit it to himself but you knew it the instant you met him. He was untethered, burdened to continue on in a world he didn’t belong in. Your heart ached for him, for a man so lost that he only ever felt alive when he was at war. You tried to help him see the world with color again. “Ironic, coming from you,” you thought to yourself. But the more time you spent with him, the more your cynicism chipped away bit by bit until you became closer to the person you were before your abilities. Free to dream and love as you should’ve been. It was as if you needed him as much as he needed you. 
“Would you like a refill for that, honey?” the kindly old waitress asked, jerking you out of your reverie, her wrinkled face etched into a pitying smile. You shook your head and gave her your thanks, the dread in your chest intensifying once more. 
Look at where you are now, back to square one. 
You huffed at the tiny voice inside your head. She was right. Here you were, sat on a dingy couch at a diner in the middle of nowhere running from the people you loved the most. You looked at your phone again, the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach screaming at you to do something. You should at least call Nat, you thought to yourself. You’d been planning to call her anyway even though you always chickened out. That seemed the safest thing to do for your sanity, make sure they were alright then you’d be on your merry way again. It was the only way to calm your racing heart, to get rid of that sense of foreboding creeping up at you and pulling you down. You could just be anxious, right? Guilt and shame of leaving plaguing you before you could truly move on. After that phone call, everything will be put back to rights. You’ll feel better, you keep telling yourself. Only your mind wouldn’t listen. 
The ringing on the other end of the line kept you on edge and when Nat’s worried voice greeted you, you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. 
“Y/N! Where the hell have you been? Steve has been looking everywhere for you! Do you know how worried we’ve been?”
You could hear the hurt in her tone and your heart broke at how you’d left things with your friend, completely forgetting about how she’d react when you impulsively decided to run away. But they were safe. At least, they were safe. Tears pricked at your eyes, you had no idea just how desperate you’ve become to hear her voice on the line, to know that nothing had happened in your absence and the stress of these past few weeks have just been taking its toll.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Nat--” you broke off, your voice cracking from trying not to cry. 
“I shouldn’t have left the way I did but it was just too much, I had to leave. I couldn’t stay, not after everything that happened,” you continued, sniffing through it, willing yourself not to break down to your best friend on the phone in the middle of a busy diner.
“I know, sweetie. Steve told me all about it.” She sighed, sounding tired, before continuing, “You know I will never pick any sides right? I’ll support whatever you decide.” 
“Thanks, Nat. I knew you would, I never doubted you. It’s just… it’s been a lot to take in and I can’t… I don’t know how to face him if…” you trailed off, not having the courage to continue what you knew all along. It was one thing to admit it to yourself but another to say it out loud to another person. It made it more real. More final. You picked at the hem of your shirt, shaking your head. It was as if Nat knew what you were thinking, she gave another sigh on the other end of the line.
“It’s okay, you don’t have to talk about it now. But Y/N, he really does love you. He hasn’t been the same since you left and--” she immediately cut herself off as if she was about to say something she shouldn’t. You didn’t miss her sharp intake of breath before she continued, “You should really talk to him, Y/N.” 
“Nat, what’s going on? Are you guys alright?”
You felt goosebumps on your flesh. Rubbing your free hand on your thigh, you tried to calm your racing nerves.
“No, no, we’re fine. Don’t worry--” she replied instantaneously, reassuring you but before she could continue, you cut her off, relief washing over you. 
“Good. That’s good. Cause for a while there, I thought you were gonna say something crazy. I’ve just been having this weird feeling that something big is going to happen. But I’m probably just being anxious. Sorry, what were you saying?” 
“You really do have that scary clairvoyant thing going on sometimes,” you heard her laugh at you, teasing, but before you could say anything else, she turned serious, 
“Y/N, we’re gonna try to bring everyone back,” her voice was filled with hope and determination that it made you pause, your brain struggling to keep up. 
What? Did you hear her right? 
She started to explain their plan but your mind was already spinning. You immediately left the booth, slapping a ten dollar bill on the table. Your frantic steps heading into the direction of your car parked outside.
“Nat, Nat, hold on. What do you mean you’re leaving? Traveling through time? Is that even possible?” You slammed the door on your car, your voice hushed as if scared to even wonder, heart beating rapidly in your chest. 
If she really meant what you think she meant then they were all going to risk their lives for an attempt to bring everyone back. But who knew if it would even work? What if they got lost? What if they never came back? You didn’t give yourself a moment to hope. This was too dangerous. Too quick and impulsive. You needed to talk to Steve.
Before Nat could reply, you heard him call her in the background, his voice authoritative and resolute. They were ready. They were going to leave now. 
“Nat, let me talk to him,” you heard yourself say without preamble. There was no need to think it through, it didn’t matter if he hated you, if he wanted nothing to do with you, you just had to talk to him. 
“Who’s that?” You could hear him ask in the background, his voice far, his footsteps approaching. 
The moment he realized who was on the other line, the moment he saw your picture flash on his friend’s screen, his hand shot out frantically for it, scared you’d leave before he even got a chance to hear your voice. 
“Y/N?” he asked softly, worried you might suddenly end the call. You could almost see the look on his face, eyebrows furrowed, eyes searching and concerned. 
“Steve,” All the emotions you felt carried out in a single name. Regret, shame, longing. That was all it took before you broke down into tears. If you hadn’t called Nat, if you had let even one more day pass by, your last fight could’ve been the last time you ever saw him. 
“Is everything alright? What happened? Are you okay?” he was suddenly alert, voice booming with concern and just a little bit of panic. 
“No, I’m fine, I’m fine. Nat told me everything. Are you leaving already? What’s going on?” you managed to choke out, trying to regain as much composure as you can. You heard him let out a sigh of relief on the other end. 
“Oh, doll. Don’t worry about us. It’ll be alright. We’ve got it under control, I promise,” he sounded so sure of himself, his voice so soothing, almost as if he were caressing your back like he usually does to reassure you. You heard his footsteps again and the closing of a door, you assumed he looked for a place more private, quiet. This time, you wouldn’t easily let up. 
“You can’t promise that, Steve. Let me come with you,” you pleaded, exasperation in your tone. You surprised even yourself, your hands already frantically moving to drive.  You had no idea what came over you, had no idea what you were even really getting into. All you knew was that no matter where you stood in your relationship, you’ve been through so much together, you couldn’t let him face this alone. 
“No. Absolutely not. It’s too dangerous, Y/N. Just stay where you are and I’ll come find you when all this is over,” his voice brooked no argument. You could already tell how he looked like, his head shaking vehemently, feet braced apart, eyes flashing with determination. 
“Steve--” you started, voice rising in return but he immediately cut you off. 
“Y/N, listen to me. I don’t have much time but please, just this once, promise me you’ll stay where you are. Keep yourself safe until I come find you--”
“No way am I--” you spoke over him, your patience wearing thin, panic rising in your throat. 
“Y/N, let me finish. Doll, I don’t have much time. We’ve already ran simulations and this works. We’re gonna get them all back but I can’t do that if I think you’re in trouble so please, baby, just promise me you’ll stay put. It’ll only be a minute for you. Just stay where you are, please. I can’t lose you, love.” his voice verged on desperation, making you pause. 
“I know I’ve said some things I can’t take back and god, do I fucking regret them every single day since you left but I love you. And if this fails and I don’t come back, I need to know you’re at least safe. I need you to promise me that,”
“Steve, don’t… don’t talk like that,” you shook your head, not acknowledging what he was saying. This was unfair. Steve was never one to be pessimistic, he never showed any vulnerability before a mission and the fact that he did now made your heart ache. He had one goal and one goal only, he wanted to right what he perceived to be his wrong. He was going into this fully prepared to give his life to get everyone back. But for you, the stakes were too high. Who knew the dangers of what the past held? What if something happens that would keep him there? 
“Love, please. We’re leaving soon,”
You let out a huge breath. “Just promise me you’ll be back?” 
You could almost hear the smile on his face, could almost see his shoulders sag with relief. 
“Then promise me, you’d stop driving while on the phone,” he joked, trying to make light of the situation. He knew how you could get when you excessively worried about him. He didn’t even realize how much he loved it until now that your fussing was reduced to a phone call. 
“Steve, I mean it,” you warned seriously. 
“When have I ever backed down from a fight? And this is just an extraction mission. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise,” his voice sounded so calming, you almost believed it. 
Despite his downplaying, you knew the risks. Time travel? Who could even say they’ve thought this would be possible even in their wildest dreams?
“I’ve gotta go, sweetheart. I love you. I’ll come to you as soon as all this is over,” you heard the scuffle of feet in the background, heard F.R.I.D.A.Y calling out to him, and suddenly, you didn’t have enough time. You had so much to say, so much to apologize for.
“Steve, wait--” you started desperately, ready to beg for forgiveness. 
“Don’t.” he cut you off quickly as if already knowing the direction you were heading in. 
“There’s no need, doll. I love you, we’ll make this work. I promise, I’ll do everything I can to make it work,”
He sounded so sincere, so forgiving that it made your lips tremble into a soft smile.
“I love you too, Steve. I’ll see you guys in a minute,” you replied, trying to sound as lighthearted as you could when you heard Nat scream it to you in the background. You didn’t want to psyche him out with your worry. This was the mission of his lifetime, everyone depended on him. 
You tried to ignore the heavy feeling in your gut, the fear crawling up your veins. 
Something is about to go wrong. 
Steve chuckled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off his chest, finally able to hope again. This was the future he looked forward to. 
“We’ll see you in a minute, baby,”  
You hoped to God you would. 
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Author’s notes: This was tough to write since everything happens through a phone call. I tried to capture the tension of the situation through that and hope I did. As always, let me know what you think! Thanks for reading! 
495 notes · View notes
butwhyduh · 3 years
Text
Last night thing
Jason todd x reader
Summary: he stopped you from stealing a $25,000 watch but missed something else. Part 2 to Late night Thing.
Warning: kidnap, fighting, smut
As Jason pulled up his pants and contemplated his life choices of sleeping with a beautiful thief on a rooftop, he came to a conclusion. You stole his damn tie clip. He had said that he would break your hand if you tried to steal it and dammit, you had. Somehow it simultaneously made him mad and horny. How the fuck had you managed that?
Jason knew that he wouldn’t find you that night. So he went back to his safe house to lick his wounded pride and plan his next move. He needed to get that clip back. It was a gift from Alfred and he would literally kill for it. Though he seriously doubted that he’d need to do that. And Jason would never admit it but he didn’t want to kill you.
He planned to find you sometime during the next week. His tie clip was expensive but not extraordinarily expensive but you had to find someway to sell it without him finding it, which would take time. Jason just didn’t know that it would be the next day that he would find you.
He heard that Bane was throwing his weight around in the drug trade for some damn reason. Wasn’t his venom addition enough for one man? So Jason was snooping around, or investigating as the bats liked to say. He fully expected a boring night of listening in a warehouse for hours and learning very little but instead almost fell through the glass at the sight before him.
You were strapped to a chair with rope. The pretty dress you wore the night before was in tatters but you were covered. Your eyes were red and your nose had dried blood underneath it. You were shivering like a leaf.
“I’m not here to negotiate with you. I’m here for Cat Woman. You are her child and she will come or you will die,” Bane said casually. You gasped.
“She’s going to be mad. Why would she work with you after this?” You asked, braver than you felt. He turned and coldly looked at you before stalking over. His giant fingers wrapped around your throat and you thrashed in the chair.
Jason stood up and moved to jump into the fight despite the fact that he really didn’t want to fight the brute. But Bane let you go and you audibly gasped and sucked air through open lips. You trembled and heaved.
“If she does not care about you, I will move on to her next kitten,” he said and you gulped. You didn’t know if she would save you. Jason looked through the room for a strategy. 2 exits and the skylight he currently looked through. 3 goons that he could easily take out. Oh, and a 300 pound juiced up super soldier. That broke Batman’s back years ago. Fuck.
“Let me go and I’ll do anything you want,” you said and even Jason up high in the rafters could hear the waver in your voice. Bane turned and stared at you and your mind almost couldn’t comprehend the massive size of him. He was easily half a foot taller than Red Hood and almost 100 pounds heavily and Red Hood towered over you.
“What could I possible want from you,” he asked with an icy curiosity. He was watching you for a reaction. You wanted to shrink away but that would be a failure.
“Anything you could want. Information,” you suggested. “About Gotham.”
“I have my sources.”
“Uhhh,” you breathed. “Gems? Money?” He shook his head. Your heart hammered in your chest. He was a man, right? You could sell that maybe? “Me?” You breathed.
He laughed before looking you up and down. “I do not want you carnally, child,” he said. You almost sagged in relief and Jason’s hand released the gun he didn’t know he was holding. “No. We will wait for Cat Woman and if she doesn’t come in 2 days, you are dead.”
You hummed in fear. Bane sat crossed legged and closed his eyes. He threatened to kill you and then fucking meditated. You helplessly pulled at the ropes on your wrists.
Jason tried to piece together how you got there and how to get you out. He knew that he couldn’t exactly call Bruce. ‘Hey dad, do you want to fight the guy who broke your back over a thief he has tied up. Why? I don’t know! I just like fucking her on rooftops!’ Never saying that.
Nope. Instead he would attempt stealth. Against one of the best trained fighters in the world for a woman that robbed him. Yea, maybe Jason should have stayed 6 feet under because he’s a fucking idiot. He sighed before slowly moving towards them. Bane was sitting cross legged with his eyes closed in a meditation back to you.
You suddenly saw Jason out the corner of your eyes and your eyes widened before going back to normal. Bane didn’t seem to notice the slight change in your breathing. Jason snuck over to untie you. He slowly pulled the rope from around your wrists and you were almost completely untied when the end of the rope barely grazed the ground.
Bane snapped his head around as Jason drew his guns. You gasped as Bane launched himself towards Jason. You ripped your hand out of the rope as bullets flew. You scrambled to the floor but was quickly pulled up by the giant man. He clutched you by the shoulder and you whimpered in pain. Jason suddenly froze.
“This is far more interesting that I first thought. I looked for a cat and found a bat,” he laughed. You squirmed in pain. He sat you down but the hand stayed on your shoulder.
“She’s not important. Let her go,” Jason said. The metallic voice from his helmet sounded bored.
“If she is unimportant, she is better off dead,” he said roughly pulling you in his arms and one hand gently wrapped around your throat but didn’t tighten it. You grabbed at his fingers and sobbed pathetically. Your eyes were wide and terror was plain on your face.
“Let’s not. Put the lady down and we can talk,” Jason said and it was weird to see Red Hood negotiating. He was usually the muscle in the situation. It really showed you how fucked you really were.
“Okay I’m intrigued. I will hear your proposal,” he said sitting you down. You scampered behind Jason. Your whole body trembled.
“I know Gotham underground better than you ever will. Sorry but you’re scary as shit but not in a good way,” he said with a shrug. If you didn’t know any better, he seemed casual. “I can get you the venom you need. No cost for a while.”
“How long,” Bane asked. He was the kind so get all the facts before proceeding. He also had the weakness of being completely addicted to venom.
“A months worth.”
“6 months.”
“3 months.”
“Deal. If you break this deal I will crush her windpipe with my hand,” he said with no emotion. It was a promise, not a threat. Jason felt you move closer to him.
“Deal,” Jason agreed. Bane moved closer and you clung to Jason. You were clinging to Red Hood. How pathetic. Jason stood taller and stared at Bane. They shook hands.
Suddenly Bane slapped Jason violently across the face and you yelped. Jason went to the ground but quickly got up to a defensive crouch. You jumped in front of him with your heart beating so fast you would soon faint.
“For invading my space and my business,” Bane said before walking away. “Leave.” He didn’t turn to watch.
You noticed a little crack in the Red Hood helmet. How hard did Bane hit him? Jason stood up and pulled you out of the warehouse with him. He quickly grabbed you and shot his grappling hook out of the area. About half a mile away, he landed on a building. You clung to him and trembled.
“Hey, you’re safe,” he said. “You can let go.”
You pulled off but shivered like a leaf.
“Shit, you’re cold. Here. Here,” he wrapped his jacket around you and it helped your temperature but not your shivering. “Come here,” he pulled you in his arms and you clung. His heartbeat felt reassuring and he awkwardly patted your hair. You could tell Jason wasn’t used to providing comfort.
“He- he,” you started but stopped. “Can we go somewhere safe?”
“Come on downstairs. This is my place,” he said and you nodded. You followed him inside and it was far warmer but you couldn’t stop the shaking. His jacket was replaced by a blanket and Jason sat you on the couch. The helmet came off but domino stayed on. You practically climbed on his lap to be closer. Your eyes were still wide with horror.
You’d been arrested, harassed, even shot at. But never kidnapped like that. And by the giant Bane at that. Jason could feel the fear and adrenaline coming off of you. He rubbed your back softly. You looked up at him suddenly after a few minutes.
“You saved my life. You put yours in danger to save mine,” you breathed. He shrugged, a little uncomfortable under your gaze. “Thank you,” you added.
“Uh you’re welcome. It’s no biggie.”
“Yes it is,” you said before kissing him. Your pace was dizzying and rough. Jason was in shock at first. Your hands roamed his body before dropped down to his belt and he almost jolted up.
“Not today,” he said, stopping your hand. “I mean, normally I’d love to but not now. Give it a few days.”
“Why?” You said with your voice all breathy. Your lips were swollen and eyes dark and he almost gave in.
“You were just kidnapped. You need sleep. Not sex,” he said sliding away from you. “Are you hungry?”
“Wh- you don’t think I could want you?”
“I’m not in the mood. Almost getting killed by Bane really kills the urge,” he lied. If he thought you were in your right mind, he would have fucked you on the rooftop or against the first surface he found. You jumped in front of Bane for him. He found it all incredibly hot. “You need a shower anyways.”
It was cold and cruel but better than sleeping with a traumatized woman. You shook and nodded before using his shower. Jason felt twinges of guilt but ignored them. He knew it was better this way.
You came in nothing but his t shirt that hung like a dress. “Nothing else fit,” you said awkwardly. He could see the scars that covered your legs and bruises around your throat.
“We can lay in bed,” Jason said just as awkwardly. He might know what to do with a woman who wants to fuck him but not just one sleeping over. “For sleeping.”
“Don’t worry. I won’t try anything,” you said with a little smile and he smiled back. You both laid in the bed and it wasn’t long until you pressed your back against his chest and pulled his arms around you. He was strong and safe. You managed to sleep all night with the anticipated nightmares. They had time later to come up. When you weren’t cradled in his arms.
The next morning you woke up warm. The rise and fall of his chest was comforting. His hand held your waist loosely and you could seriously just stay in this moment. But as soon as you moved, you almost giggled like a teenager. He was hard and pressed against your ass.
“Ignore that,” he mumbled.
“Okay... how?” You said after a few seconds. “Because it’s pretty unforgettable for the man I like to sleep with to have his hard dick pressed against my ass. Have to say.”
“We only did it once in a rooftop. Was it that unforgettable?” He said and you could hear the smirk he wore.
“It was alright,” you said playfully but you couldn’t help but press back into him. Jason grabbed your hip to stop you.
“Trying to get me horny?”
“I think you already are.”
“That’s true,” he said before grinding against your ass. You pushed back to do your own rubbing. “And you’re not even wearing any panties,” he said bunching up the fabric of his shirt you wore. He slapped your ass soundly and you gasped.
“What was that for?”
“My tie clip. I hope you still have it,” he said before slapping your ass again. You reached behind you to grasp his cock through his sweatpants.
“I’ll get it back to you,” you said. His pants were pushed down. Jason hummed and rubbed his dick between your thighs. You sighed at the sensation and arched your back so he was sliding between your folds instead.
“You’d better,” he growled but it had no true heat. Not when he was so close to finally fucking you and had his lips leaving little marks on your shoulder and neck. You tried to press back onto him but he stopped your hips.
“Do you deserve it,” he asked running a finger along your hip, every once in a while dipping between your thighs to barely touch your clit. You jumped and grabbed at his wrist to hold him there but he just chuckled and moved away from where you needed him. His thrusting between your folds felt amazing but not enough and he was purposefully avoiding sliding in your hole. Jason quite liked the way your body panted and curved in desperation.
Finally feeling that you had been tortured enough, and he wanted in your wet heat, he pressed his hips forward and filled you. You whimpered and leaned your head back against him.
“Yes,” you breathed. Jason took his time slowly thrusting, letting you fill his full length. His free hand moved from pinching your nipple to circling your clit. You were practically clenching him from the start and he loved it. You were so receptive.
It didn’t take long for him to find a pattern that just got you a little more vocal and focused on that. “God, you’re fucking wet,” he breathed in your ear and you whimpered. You seemed to like what he had to say.
“Taking me so well. Acting like such a good girl,” he said and you breathed out a “Hood” in response. Oh yeah, you didn’t even know the name of the man that you let fuck you. You trusted him enough to sleep in his bed and you’d never even seen his eyes.
His finger circling your clit and cock angled to drag along your g spot had you seeing stars as you came around him. Jason grunted and held your hips tight before quickly pulling out to cum on your ass. He looked as the pretty white beads covered your skin. He wasn’t forgetting that image any time soon. He reached for a towel to clean you up.
Afterwards you turned in his arms and kissed him soundly before lying your head on his chest. You reached up to play with his hair with a little smile on your face. Jason could get used to this. As soon as he thought it, he had the urge to jump up and kick you out. He didn’t do permanent. You were just having fun.
“I need a shower,” he said roughly, getting up. Jason couldn’t help but notice the disappointment on your face that you quickly hid.
“I should get going before my walk of shame gets any later,” you said with an awkward laugh.
“Borough anything you need,” he said before disappearing into his bathroom. While in the shower he had time to think. Yeah, I’m totally not broken to be cool with fucking a woman but not being able to hold her. Not a sign of being fucked up at all, Jason thought. Probably got that from Bruce. Though my real dad probably did it too.
He came out of the bathroom with a towel around his waist and immediately saw a note on the bed.
Had fun, Hood. We should do it again sometimes, (your number)
💕 Kitten
His tie clip was set underneath it. Jason smiled. Okay, this could be fun. He was young and sowing wild oats or whatever, right?
There was no way this could go wrong, right?
471 notes · View notes
mviswidow · 3 years
Text
falling
Wanda Maximoff x Reader
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: cursing, alcohol
Prompt: i was wondering if i could request an imagine?? it’s kind of based off of harry styles’ song ‘falling’ whereas the reader accidentally admits she’s in love with wanda and wanda, having gone through so much heartbreak, pushes the reader away as she’s too scared to get involved with someone again, as all she’s known is loss. so, the two separate a bit until thor talks to her about it because he, too, has shared a lot of heartbreaking moments and shit and it’s not until she’s drunk (lyric: “I’m in my bed, and you’re not here 
And there’s no one to blame
 But the drink in my wandering hands.”) she realizes the mistake she’s made and goes to find the reader to tell them she’s in love with her too :(  IT’S SOME REAL ANGSTY SHIT BUT I FEEL LIKE IT COULD BE SO GOOD. LMAOO. <3 - @cierrascorpse​
Summary: R confesses her love for Wanda. Despite loving her back, Wanda pushes her away, but is convinced to go to R after the two of them have avoided each other for far too long.
A/N: this is my first songfic!! it’s ‘Falling’ by Harry Styles, in case you want to listen to it.
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“You’re back!” You ran over to Wanda and hugged her, heart fluttering when she hugged you back tightly.
When you pulled away, she had a bright smile on her face even though she still looked sleepy. 
“Good morning, Y/n,” She chuckled, opening the fridge to get milk for her cereal.
You smiled and grabbed some fruit before sitting on the kitchen barstool and spinning around once or twice, “How did your mission go?”
“Eh,” Wanda shrugged with one shoulder and stuck her spoon in the bowl, nudging her cereal around.
“What happened?” You frowned.
“Nothing, I just made a mistake. Steve’s kind of mad at me,” Wanda sighed, looking up and seeing you with your eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes, “I wasn’t paying attention and I almost got shot, I got lucky that Steve was watching.”
“Oh my god, Wanda, you have to be more careful.”
“I know, it was just an accident-”
“We don’t have room for accidents. You know better than to make careless mistakes,” You interrupted, shaking your head.
Her brow furrowed, it was weird that you were getting so worked up like this, “Yeah, I do know, and I obviously didn’t almost get shot on purpose, so if you’re going to be like this then I’d prefer you just back off.”
You scoffed as your eyebrows shot up, “Why are you being so defensive about this?”
Her voice raised, “I just don’t get why you care so much-”
“Because I love you!” 
Wanda’s jaw snapped closed and she noticeably swallowed before nodding, “I’m going to have breakfast in my room.”
“Wanda-”
“I don’t think us being friends is a great idea, Y/n,” She spoke softly, trying to keep eye contact for as long as she could.
Tears welled in your eyes and you pushed off the bar stool before making your way out of the kitchen, “Fuck you, too, then.”
---
From then on, the two of you didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary, which basically just meant missions and the occasional odd day where you had to talk to each other for something regarding the team.
It hurt. Really bad. Even looking in her general direction made you want to cry. The team wasn’t oblivious to the fact that there was something going on, they figured it out pretty quickly and it didn’t take long for them all to have found out what had happened.
You ended up spending a lot of time with Natasha. You were already close with her before Wanda rejected you, but you became best friends after the fact. 
Having to sit through meetings while sitting across from Wanda was excruciating. You willed yourself to get over her but she was constantly occupying your mind and you saw her every day, so that was pretty hard. 
Wanda also felt horribly about the situation. She’d never dated anyone before, and she loved you a whole lot, but she knew the last thing you needed was someone like her to come into your life in such a big way and leave mess in her wake.
Her heart raced when you took more than a few seconds to respond to comms and she always found herself looking around for you while out on the field, just to make sure you were okay.
Two months after Wanda had rejected you, the team was pretty fed up with the two of you. They obviously cared about your feelings but you were both way too distracted on mission and careless mistakes were happening more frequently.
That was when Steve gave Thor his own mini-mission of talking to Wanda.
He knocked twice on her door, which had her looking up from her book and opening the door with a swift movement of her fingers, “Thor,” Wanda smiled softly. “What’s up?”
“I wanted to talk to you, about Y/n,” He said as he closed the door, his usually loud voice now quiet and calm.
Wanda’s heart clenched and she bit the inside of her cheek, “Is she okay?”
“Oh,” Thor was now realizing that he might have made it seem like you were hurt. “Yes, she is- well, physically- I mean, it’s complicated.”
Wanda quirked an eyebrow up. The usual eloquent God of Thunder now stumbling over his words like anyone else, “This is about what happened between the two of us, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” He nodded and looked towards the edge of her bed. “May I sit?”
“Be my guest,” She nodded.
“Steve and I were talking about you guys, honestly, the whole team talks about you. It’s been hard to watch you guys like this, but we see the way you still care for each other. I know that you’ve been through a lot, Wanda. Losing family is harder than words could ever begin to describe, I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve happiness and that you can’t love the people you want to love. I see the way you look at her, we all do,” And eloquent Thor was back, apparently. “I just don’t believe you should let this pass you by. She’s a really special girl and she loves you a lot. I think you love her a lot, too, and I think you need each other. That’s all I wanted to say, I guess. I just hope you think about this more- maybe even talk to her when you’re ready, if you are.”
Wanda blinked away the tears in her eyes and nodded, “Thank you, I appreciate it.”
Thor left without saying anything else, and when the door closed behind him, Wanda pulled her pillow to cover her face and groaned. She laid there for a minute before getting up and walking to the kitchen in search of some kind of alcohol. 
An hour and a half later, she was laying on her bed in pajama shorts and a red hoodie that you’d given her for her birthday sulking.
She had half a mind to cry, but she didn’t really like drunk crying, and she was far enough into the bottle of vodka for her judgement to be impaired, but not enough to not acknowledge that drunk crying was the worst kind of crying. 
After months of being without you, she longed to be near you, to have fun sleepovers again, to sneak away from Tony’s parties to go up to the roof or to watch a movie, she wanted you to braid her hair and cuddle her at night and kiss her-
Before Wanda knew what she was doing, she set the vodka bottle on her nightstand and made her way to your room. She stood outside for a few seconds before knocking quickly so she couldn’t talk herself out of whatever she was about to do.
She could hear you laugh from inside your room, “Nat, did you leave something? You were here like- oh.”
Your smile fell when you opened the door and saw Wanda standing at the other side of it, “Do you need something?”
“I’m so sorry,” Wanda said, her voice breathy, her face flushed, that stupid hoodie that made her look adorable, and her hair tied back into a lose ponytail that was so messed up that it could probably barely even be called a ponytail anymore. But you could tell she was drunk.
You had to stop yourself from scoffing, “Well, you’re two months too late, Wanda.”
“I love you.”
“Don’t do this now,” You shook your head, tears now brimming your eyes. You didn’t want to put up with this when tomorrow things would be back to how they had been.
“Y/n/n, I’m serious. I love you so much,” And tears of her own threatened to spill. “I feel so guilty, as I should, but I just- I was really scared, and I thought that I was going to fuck things up for you, and that’s the last thing I wanted to do. I love you. I’ll say it a million times if that’s what it takes to convince you. I want us to happen.”
You sniffled and wiped away a tear that was starting to run down your face. All of a sudden Wanda was starting to sound really sober. “You promise?” Your voice broke, and you bit your lip, willing yourself to not make any noise.
“I swear to you that I love you,” Wanda smiled softly, bringing her hand up to cup your cheek, wiping away another tear that fell.
You leaned into her touch and closed your eyes for a moment before opening them and being graced by a soft smile on Wanda’s features.
“I would love to kiss you now but I want it to be good and not when I’m kinda drunk, so can I just sleep in your room tonight instead?” She asked hopefully, longing to hold you.
“Please,” You nodded and stepped forward, hugging her for the first time in two months. “I missed you so much.”
508 notes · View notes
makeste · 3 years
Note
So, which of these desperately sobbing children gets to compete for Worst Day? I... think Shouto's our, uh, lucky winner, but I think Deku, Momo, and Tokoyami all put up strong fights
so seeing as we are finally approaching New Chapter Times again after a very long three weeks, this feels like a good time to do a recap of just how much everything currently sucks for our intrepid heroes. it may seem a bit insensitive of me to go through the cast list one by one and arbitrarily assign each character a number score based on how shitty their day was, but... well actually I don’t really have a good defense for that, lol. whatever, let’s just get to ranking these children’s misery (and while we’re at it, some of the adults’ as well).
Midoriya Izuku
current status: unconscious. currently has a pair of those floppy inflatable flailing tube men dealios for arms. had to watch his teacher and his best friends get hurt and nearly die while being helpless to do anything to stop it. has a new quirk which “warns” him of approaching danger by giving him ice pick headaches, as if he didn’t have enough pain in his life as it is. is being targeted by the most dangerous person in the world. and last but not least, is probably on the verge of his super-secret quirk becoming not-so-secret, and having to deal with the fallout of that.
rank: 9/10. hard to imagine how things could get much worse for this little guy atm. NO HORIKOSHI THAT IS NOT A CHALLENGE. YOU LEAVE HIS MENTOR ALONE.
Bakugou Katsuki
current status: unconscious. got impaled by the Big Bad which initially did not look good, but apparently it wasn’t enough to stop him from flying around in drunken loop-de-loops whilst ignoring Iida’s protests, so who knows. proudly announced his new hero name to the world only to be met with scorn and ridicule and hysterical laughter from that fucking Caillou-looking motherfucker whose opinion he never mcfucking asked for, thank you very much. and also his best friend’s self-sacrificing tendencies are giving him anxiety, and his other best friend’s brother just pulled a reverse Darth Vader on Endeavor and upended hero society as we know it. so there’s a good chance he might be called upon to provide emotional support to one or even BOTH of them in the near future. has... has he actually become the stable friend in the trio. fuck.
rank: 7/10 just because he briefly appeared to be in a situationally-inappropriate good mood for those few brief minutes right after Jeanist appeared. you were having too much fun to get a top score, Katsuki.
Todoroki Shouto
current status: not unconscious but probably wishing he was. older brother came back from the dead and revealed that he was a mass murderer and broadcast all of Shouto’s personal traumas to the entire world before earnestly trying to set him and his friends on fire. so is currently dealing with all of the fun fallout from that, on top of watching his teacher and friends all come within inches of death. will probably be dragged into a national controversy against his will now that Endeavor’s past has been revealed. all of it is honestly so shitty that it’s all but impossible for me to put an irreverent spin on this. I honestly can’t think of a single joke to make. goddammit Shouto.
rank: 10/10. a perfect storm of shittiness.
Yaoyorozu Momo
current status: somehow Momo went from having no mentors that we knew of, to having two mentors, and then back to having no mentors, all in the span of a single day. has to be some sort of record.
rank: 8/10. and the worst part of all is that she was a fucking BAMF during this arc, but she can’t even enjoy that now because of all the trauma. I’m still proud of you, Momo.
Uraraka Ochako
current status: mentally and physically exhausted after spending a day out on the front lines dealing with the aftermath of an unnatural disaster. saw things that were canonically enough to make a grown man have a nervous breakdown right then and there. had a really weird and unsettling encounter with Toga who keeps trying to relate to her by telling her things like “hey Ochako, this one time I turned into you and used your quirk to murder someone horribly isn’t that wild.” it’s just been a very long day for her.
rank: 6/10. stressful af but she’s still in one piece and no one was actively murdered in front of her. sometimes you gotta take whatever wins you can get.
Tokoyami Fumikage
current status: his mentor was nearly burned to death in front of him and he was almost burned to death too, and the guy who kept attempting to burn him was all “YOUR MENTOR’S A MURDERER BTW AND SO YOU SHOULD JUST LET ME KILL HIM”, and so he was kind of put on the spot there and he didn’t really know what to do, and somehow he managed to escape with Hawks anyway but Hawks’s wings were all burnt off, and then a fucking video of Hawks stabbing Twice in the back got broadcast to the entire nation and so it’s like, ???? he didn’t sign up for this??? he is just a little birb??? can he live????
rank: 7/10 because he missed out on all of the other traumatizing stuff, but it’s honestly impressive how bad his day managed to be even in spite of that.
All for One
current status: All for One’s day is actually going pretty good.
rank: 0/10. hey but fuck you, AFO.
Shigaraki Tomura
current status: woke up early from his nap which always sucks. only got to enjoy his cool new Transcendent Being powers for a few minutes before the heroes all ganged up on him and incinerated him a bunch of times and fucked up his shiny new cape. has his old mentor currently taking up residence in his head uninvited and trying to boss him around. found out his grandma was part of One for All?? then slept through all of the fun stuff with the Dabi reveal. also a bunch of his friends are either dead or captured. all in all was not really the best day for him.
rank: 8/10 because he was having himself a grand old time for a while there, but once some of this stuff finally sinks in the Suck Factor is going to go way, way up. also, seriously, AFO is currently possessing his body, jesus christ. just leave him alone already.
Hawks
current status: had to make an impossible choice between sitting back and letting an untold number of people die, and turning on a good but misguided man who was only trying to help his friends. has to live with the trauma of literally stabbing his friend in the back for the rest of his life. may have been rendered effectively quirkless. was publicly dragged through the mud alongside Endeavor, and unlike Endeavor he didn’t actually do anything to earn it (though that probably won’t stop him from feeling like he has). oh and speaking of Endeavor, just found out that the hero he looked up to since childhood abused his family and shit, and so now he has to grapple with that on top of everything else. how fucked is it that the minute he finally got to drop his whole double agent balancing act, his life somehow got even more fucked up and complicated.
rank: 9/10. let Hawks rest.
Aizawa Shouta
current status: unconscious. seems to have lost an eye which may possibly affect his quirk. had to saw off his own fucking leg. met the man who experimented on his childhood friend. doesn’t know yet that said man was originally targeting him and not Shirakumo. oh and also his other other childhood friend just died and he doesn’t know it yet. and someone else sacrificed himself in order to save him. and most of his other hero pals are either dead or wounded too, and all of his kids are deeply traumatized. and the guy they went through all of this shit to try and capture in the first place got away, and hero society is now in shambles.
rank: 11/10. Horikoshi. wtf did Aizawa ever do to you.
anyways it’s getting late and I was gonna throw in a few honorable mentions, but I think I’ll just call it a day instead. feel free to weigh in on any of the ones I missed. Dabi for one is having himself a FINE, fine day. but Endeavor not so much. sob.
721 notes · View notes
barzzal · 3 years
Text
between halls and thin walls → part two
summary: friends who fool around almost never work. almost.
↳ pairing: mathew barzal x you
↳ warnings: swearing, sex toys, masturbation, sexual/suggestive themes, and yenno, mathew :(
↳ genre: angst, smut, roommates au, best friend’s best friend, friends with benefits, 18+ minors dni*
↳ length: series; part one, part two (5.9k), part three, part four, part five, part six
↳ masterlist: the barn
↳ track: listened to a lot of beyoncé for this one !!
note: part two’s here!! and i know it’s late for an update but i just wanna thank everyone for commenting on the first part 🥺 really glad that you guys liked it. reading your tags are everything to me it means a lot! happy reading <3 (gif used: mine)
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You come out of your bedroom dressed and ready for work. Your handbag was slung over the depth of your forearm as you headed for the kitchen and the other, scrolling past emails on your phone, admittedly bracing yourself for the mess you know will eventually greet you.
To your surprise, what you see instead were Mat Barzal’s guns rippling through the jet black sweater he had worn last night. A memory that sent your mind to less than eight hours ago, before eventually landing on what happened shortly when the two of you had woken up.
“Thank god you haven’t burnt the house down.” you kid, placing your handbag atop the island.
Mat spares you a quick glance, rolling his eyes whilst he lets you watch him whisk some eggs for breakfast.
“Like it?” he cocks, pertaining to how your eyes were pinned hard on his biceps that he was, for the most part, effortlessly sporting. It’s true, though. He didn’t need to flex because it was just there.
“Coffee or Juice?” he asks, as the kind friend and roommate that he is. 
Anthony, as surprising as it was, takes incredibly long showers. If people hadn’t known him well, they’d easily think he’s abusing himself there. But you’ve got to admit that not having him around felt nice for you didn’t have to feel so seen with Mathew.
‘Course, there’s nothing more, like a fix-in on the side, to your set up. You just appreciate the feeling of not having to lie to Beau about all the ugly concealed underneath all the innocent gazes you and Mathew exchange.
“Coffee.” you answer shortly, realizing that you forgot the material you need for today’s meeting.
“Where are you going?” Mat asks when he catches you receding out into the hallway. You didn’t bother looking back, “Forgot something!”
He gets back to whisking the eggs when a chime comes off his phone. He takes it from the counter, placed just before the plates he left to dry last night, absent-mindedly putting the bowl he was holding onto the island, toppling over the green juice he has prepared for himself. 
“Shit.” he curses as soon as he sees it for it was already spilling all over the place, making the mess you’ve been secretly anticipating the moment Mathew said he’d make breakfast.
Panicking at how you’d see he’s successfully screwed such a no-brainer task, Mat grabs the first thing he sees on the marbled surface and uses it to clean the mess he’d made.
“Huh.” he muses to himself, realizing that the silk fabric didn’t do much in helping him clean up. He tosses it over the sink carelessly and grabs a few napkin rolls from one of the cupboards. 
So much for making an effort to feed Anthony Beauvillier. 
“Now, that was fast.” you say with a smirk once you’ve entered the kitchen, startling Mathew as he continued cleaning up after his mess. 
“Ha-ha. Very funny.” he sarcastically laughs, discarding the paper towels onto the sink along with the used ones. 
Thankfully, your stuff was at the other side of the island so it was very much safe from all the chaos happening at the other end of the marbled surface. However, your laugh dies down the second you realize that your handkerchief was no longer where you’ve last put it.
“Hey,” you call on Mathew, “What’s up?”
“Have you seen my handkerchief? I know I left it somewhere.” you anxiously ask, eyeing every corner of the room hoping to see Nana’s handkerchief, the one she gave to you on your 18th birthday.
“What does it look like?” Mat asks, now holding a pan in his hand as he prepares breakfast.
You proceeded to describe your grandma’s handkerchief in the most specific and perhaps excruciating detail Mathew has ever heard someone talk about something as mind-numbing as a handkerchief.
Despite that, Mat lights up the moment it hits him, not realizing the bigger mess he’s about to walk into. He rejoices at how he knew exactly what you were looking for, “Oh! You mean this?” 
With clueless eyes, you watch Mat go over the sink after he wipes his hands dry, fishing out an all too familiar fabric from the sink. Once your eyes land onto the cream colored silk handkerchief, with details carefully sewn by hand, drenching in what seems to be Mat’s morning drink, your heart falls to the pit of your stomach. 
“What did you do??” The sudden rise in your voice startles an unsuspecting Mathew. You eagerly went over to his side and hastily snatched the smooth fabric off his hands, “It’s ruined!”
“What? I didn’t know it was yours!” Mat’s eyes are wild with confusion. Puzzled at how you were so fixated on the useless fabric. It didn’t help him anyway. There’s nothing much left to do but to throw it. It’s garbage. 
“You ruined it!” you lash out, letting Mat get eaten up by the sudden anger bubbling inside your guts but he was rather quick in defending himself, “I didn’t know it was yours since I grabbed the first thing I could find. Why are you getting upset over a shit-ass handkerchief?” 
Your mouth falls and you shake your head, finding his defensiveness quite appalling. “You’re an ass.”
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was yours.” he explains, “Come on, it’s just a stupid handkerchief I’ll just buy you a new one.” he tries to laugh the tension off, sporting his signature grin.
Mat take shots of the stunned expression on your face, “Stupid?” you repeat what he said, your eyes already starting to sting with tears. Clearly, you were far too overwhelmed to even acknowledge Mathew’s half-assed apology.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” your words bite and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. 
“I said I was fucking sorry! What the hell do you want from me? Shit a fucking hanky?” he rans a hand through his hair, “Do you realize how childish you’re being right now?”
Outraged, and perhaps disappointed by how he was too high up his horse, your voice takes up a higher tone, entering what seems to be an early screaming match between you and Mathew.
“Could you just–” you breathe, “for one second– stop being so goddamn stupid and get over yourself!?” were words that welcomed Anthony the moment he stepped into the kitchen, towel wrapped around his waist, a grin on his face visible as he poured himself a glass of water, inviting himself in the screaming match you and Mathew have exclusively put forth for him.
“Stupid is not when you’ve already apologized a hundred times! Stupid is being such a crybaby and a bitch about it!” Mathew retorts, gaining his better end of the argument.
“What a beautiful morning, isn’t it?” Anthony chimes in, a hand resting on his chin, adoring his two best friends upon getting used to the best worst duo he’s ever known in his life. 
“Shut up, Beau.” you say, throwing him a glare.
“Well, beautiful is definitely not in Y/N’s dictionary.” Mathew chides with a smirk, enough to earn himself a scoff from you. 
“You know what? I don’t have the time for this bullshit.” you cuss, finally retreating, your already heavy heart taking a better hold on your thoughts, blocking your ability to even come up with a clever remark to come back at Mathew.
You throw the delicate, yet already ruined piece of fabric towards his way as hard as you could before marching out of the kitchen and head off for work.
“Fucking unbelievable.” Mathew curses under his breath once he catches the silk linen, shaking his head as he turns his attention back to the morning task at hand. 
You were fucking unbelievable.
Once the boys were left alone, Tito raises a brow, briefly looking back after your footsteps, “What happened here, anyway?” he asks, having realized what must’ve caused such a heated argument so early in the morning. 
“I used this handkerchief to wipe the whole thing off and she just went ape shit! I mean–” Anthony cuts Mathew the moment he recognizes the thin cloth he was holding.
“Woah, woah. Wait a minute, you used this?” he muses, stressing on the possibility of what might have been Mathew’s biggest mistake of the day, his eyes darting between him and the fabric.
With furrowed brows, admittedly weirded by how Anthony reacted almost the same way you did a while ago. “It’s just a handkerchief, man. I can go buy her a bunch if that’s what she wants.” he says defensively.
Anthony shakes his head wildly, his irises now dilated as he examined the stain already sitting on the material. “No no. Oh god no.” He says, snatching Mathew’s phone from the counter to google quick remedies that might remove the said stain from the already ruined cloth. 
“What do you mean no? You guys spend way too much time together, you’re beginning to be as weird as her.” He scoffs, sipping on a glass of water. 
“No, you dumbass. This was her grandma’s!” Anthony says, eyes fixated on the delicate handkerchief. Remembering how you’d told him how long it has been in your family that having Nana give it to you after all the years you’ve spent admiring it from afar meant so much to you than anything anyone could have possibly given you.
“So?” Mat casually replies, closing his arms to his chest before adding, “Is she dead or something? Didn’t you guys visit her for the Holidays?” 
“What?? Why would you even say that?– You’re such a jerk.” Tito shakes his head, appalled by how Mathew easily shrugged the matter off when he knew full well how sentimental he himself could be.
“Well, how am I supposed to know?? If that thing’s so important I wouldn’t leave it on top of some random shit lying around!” He counters, defending himself for reaching for the nearest cloth he could find when he did whatever he does best when he’s in the kitchen.
Tito clicks his tongue and looks at Mathew exasperatedly, “Tell me, where did you find this exactly?”, to which Mathew only answered with a quiet voice, “It may or may not have been placed on top of her purse…” he avoids Tito’s gaze, finally catching on how he was the one in the wrong. 
“See? Jerk. Now, go figure out how you’ll take the stain off.” Anthony demands, his voice embraced by a definitive tone. One that made Mathew know he wouldn’t be able to persuade him into letting this go. 
Tito takes one good look at Mat’s catastrophic attempt to feed the house, striding his way out of the kitchen, “And make sure you apologize!” he adds, footsteps receding into the hallway, leaving Mathew scratching the back of his head out of guilt and frustration.
You have spent the following days either avoiding Mathew or ignoring his existence completely. Anthony talked to you the night that incident happened and assured you that he would do his best to have it fixed. You didn’t want to bother him nor take time off his already busy schedule, but you were just so bummed to even say a word.
That night, you spent the entire evening in your room, facetiming your mother, saying how much you’re missing home. You can’t bring yourself to tell her about the handkerchief. For some people, and that people being Mathew, it might’ve been just some silly thing but Tito knew how much that small piece of cloth meant to you. 
Mathew, on the one hand, was for sure guilty to his bones. He didn’t see you that night nor the nights that followed. He didn’t think much of it but when he found himself searching for that same handkerchief in the hopes of replacing it only to find out that it was nowhere to be found in the market, was when he did realize that ruining the one thing that held you closer to home was the last push your non-existent relationship with him had to have for you to finally lose any ounce of amour nor civility you once had for him. 
Anthony wasn’t a stranger for said changes either. He began waking up to a still apartment enveloped by a wall you profusely built between you and Mathew. You even unknowingly shut Tito out in the process as well. It was like you were grieving. Like, it was a whole different kind of heartbreak he knew he can’t get you out of that easily. 
You tried making it up for your best friend of course. Knowing that you haven’t been yourself since that day. You thought about the possibility of having taken the whole thing too seriously that you might’ve overreacted a bit. Nonetheless, no matter how much you try to push it in the back of your head, Mathew’s mere presence began irking you in ways it never did back when you used to enjoy the bickering you exchange with him, especially in bed.
“Thanks for dinner, belle.” Anthony politely says, earning a smile from you so effortlessly upon hearing the pet name he uses for you. Something Mat only shrugged off, trying to piece out the same gratitude, “Thanks, y/n.” he genuinely adds. But as expected, he had nothing.
You pick up all the empty plates, including Mathew’s, who was sitting in front of you while Anthony sat at the end of the table. Tito hurriedly wipes his mouth with a napkin and takes the plate from you, “Let me help you with that.” he says with the same kind eyes that has never failed to win you over. 
“Yeah. Okay, sure.” you shortly answer, leading the way towards the kitchen, leaving one Mathew Barzal feeling small and alone at the dining table. 
𖥸
If there was one thing you’d gladly acknowledge after all the years of watching people kiss Mathew’s ass was that he was is really good. He’s fast and he can do unimaginable damage on the ice. There’s no denying that he deserves to be the face of the New York Islanders. But we know you don’t care about any of that. The only thing you care about was how unbelievably good he is at everything he does that not even you or your pink rubber toy could suffice. 
He was just that damn good. 
As your eyes shut whilst you mount your pleasures on your own, biting your lips to choke in your own moans, Mathew handling you was what circled your mind since you started defiling yourself in the bathroom. You let your arousal be washed away by the warm water trickling down your skin, envisioning Mat’s rough hands grazing your body, touching your core like his hands were meant to do nothing else but that. 
It was wrong and pathetic, but you couldn’t think about anything else. You and Mathew have been avoiding each other for days. The dynamic went so much worse than when you weren’t sleeping together and you know that Tito was bound to notice it soon. Thankfully, the boys were on another roadie for a week so you had quite some time to think things through about your current sitch with Mathew. You didn’t like any of it because it felt like you gave a fuck (which obviously, you didn’t). You just feel obligated to sort things out with the biggest ass that ever lived because you didn’t want to involve Tito into the mess you’ve wrongfully made yourself. 
You hop off the shower feeling unsatisfied. You haven’t gotten laid since the last time you were with Mat. Which is sad, not just for you but also for her. You’d think considering the boys aren’t around you’d bring someone home, maybe even one or two. But just thinking about going on bars alone so you could find a potential bone-mate is already far too tedious and you weren’t in the right state to do so. You had so much going on at work, anyway. And you can always use a wand to scratch an itch. Neither would satisfy you more than how someone-who-will-not-be-named could, but you might as well be pathetic without having to hook up with some random dude whose name you’ll eventually forget in the morning. 
You opted to wear an old pull-over you borrowed (took) from Tito years and years ago and partnered it with some leggings so you’d be comfortable enough for the rest of the night. You have nothing else to do and you are already fed up with your workload that watching a crappy movie off of Netflix doesn’t sound like a bad idea. 
With a giant bowl of popcorn and two bottles of beer in your hands, you march your way into the living room, ready to spend the night binge watching romantic comedies, crying and laughing in between. Or maybe just fall asleep on the couch while your comfort TV series is on. 
The boys won three games out of the four that they had during the trip and you only saw the ones they won so you were thankful that you didn’t have to sit at home alone watching their faces fall after that OT lost against the Flyers. Anthony phoned you that night and you can just feel the relief in his voice that you didn’t have the time to see it. They weren’t playing like they should. Thankfully, they were able to bounce back. 
Your eyes were beginning to grow tired halfway into the movie when you hear the front door open, followed by luggages dragged into the house tirelessly. 
“Y/N?” Anthony calls out.
You hit the movie on pause and hurriedly make your way towards the hallway. “You’re home already?”
They were already taking their coats off when you met them halfway, Tito was putting his away while Mat had just taken off his toque and was running his hands through his hair, unconsciously meeting your eyes upon hearing your voice. 
You quickly break it off when you give Tito a quick embrace and plant a small kiss on his cheeks, “I texted you.” he says, eyebrows quirked, surprised that you didn’t know. 
In an effort to avert any more of his questions you immediately point towards the movie you had on, “Haven’t checked my messages, sorry.” 
“So, you guys ate dinner?” you ask, passing Mat a quick look. One that came as a surprise because he wasn’t even hoping to hear a word from you given the way you two left things a little too on the edge, screwing with the whole thing even more. 
Mat avoids your irises and faintly nods. 
“Big win tonight huh? Told you, you can do it.” you say with a beaming smile, nudging Tito with your hips as you get back to watching your film. “You gotta do what you gotta do, babe.” he winks, lugging his stuff around towards his bedroom. 
“Barz, don’t stay up, Trotz needs us first thing in the morning.” he looks back, reminding Mat who was already standing in front of his door, “Yeah. Sure.” he replies shortly with a tired voice. 
You and Anthony bid your own goodnights whilst Mat mutters a quiet “Night.” when you nodded his way, clearly not enjoying any of the first awkward encounters he’s yet to have with you. Seven days is quite a reasonable time for your anger to dissipate, a short yet seemingly long period of time that’s just enough to kill off whatever guilt Mat had initially felt before you parted ways.
𖥸
“Alright, I’m off.” Tito casually declares, putting on his watch. “There’s food in the fridge, and tell Mat to go easy on my beers.” he gives you a knowing look as he bends down to give you a kiss on the cheek. 
Tito had been seeing some mystery girl for quite some time now. He hasn’t told you anything spicy in particular but by the looks of it, you could already tell that she has him towed. 
“Good luck, loverboy.” you say, swatting his hand away and pushing him out to the door. The two of you cringe at what you said, sharing one last laugh before you watch him disappear out into the hallway.
The apartment was cramped the whole day because Anthony and Mat had the day off. Tito had plans for the night, obviously. As per you, you had plans lounging in the living room, switching through channels in the hopes of stumbling on a show that isn’t half as bad than the rest. 
Thankfully, a Sandra Bullock film was on HBO.
The Proposal, to be exact.
You decide to dive in the film with a cold bottle of beer on your hand. There was no way you’d be washing down the effects of a naked Ryan Reynolds with a glass of water. You haven’t gone mad. 
The film was already at the part where Sandra was proposing to Ryan when you hear Mathew’s door open. You haven’t talked since the night they came back home other than the small nods you exchange upon passing by each other. All of which are mind-numbing and impossible to swallow. The awkwardness has not dissipated completely unlike what you presumed. You were just grateful Tito was always around that you didn’t need to be alone together. 
Alarmed by another impending awkward encounter, you clear your throat and turn up the volume a little to remain focused on the film, investing your sole attention to it even if you have seen the movie countless times. 
Mathew, in his sweats and a gray shirt on, carefully makes his way out the hallway and into the common area after snatching a glass of water from the kitchen. You see him move further into the room but you make sure that he knows you weren’t paying attention. You take that he must’ve been thirsty and needed a drink but you don’t see him move further in the corner of your eye like he was making his way back in his room. It almost seemed like he was actually waiting for you to look his way.
Hesitantly, you follow your gut feel and see him standing a few feet away from you. “Yes?” you ask when you catch him staring. 
Mat blinks a few times, “Hi.” he takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the awkwardness circling the two of you.
When the only thing he gets from you is a tight lipped smile, he shakes his head and proceeds to walk where you were seated. 
“Mind if I join you?” he asks, his voice deep and clear enough to send your mind elsewhere. 
Regardless, you contain yourself and return a polite smile, “No. Not at all.”
“So, what are we watching?” he sits once you gestured onto the other end of the couch. 
“The Proposal.” you answer before throwing a question yourself, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting now?” you shake your head, absentmindedly chuckling. Not intending to make him feel that you’ve forgotten about what he’d done weeks ago. 
“I couldn’t sleep.” he props his back and lets himself sink in the cloud couch, his legs spread wide eating up most of the space left for the two of you to share. “Oh. I only like him when he’s Deadpool” he points out, cringing at how you were watching another one of your romantic comedy films.
You roll your eyes, admiring how he’s trying to break the tension between the two of you despite his unsolicited sentiments, “I like it when we were on not-speaking terms.” 
Mat mocks you for a while but decides to watch the movie so you let him be and get back to the film, letting a giggle slip every now and then. Something you thought Mat wouldn’t notice.
Watching the remainder of the film went with ease. ‘Course, Mat would steal a few glances here and there (ones he thought had gone unnoticed), but overall the quietude between the two of you was bearable. Almost like it was just two buddies hanging out. 
Although, not long after, your eyes were torn away from the huge flat screen when Mat spoke, “By the way,” he looks at you and calls your attention. 
Puzzled, you watch him take something from his pocket, “Here.” 
Once you see what he has in his hands your heart froze. Mat carefully hands you the cloth with an apologetic smile; his eyes soft with a hint of hope as he watches your reaction. 
“What– How?” you ask in bewilderment, failing to comprehend how he was able to fix the handkerchief. It looked the same as before. All of its details were in place, it was good as new. You were holding Nana’s handkerchief. 
Mathew didn’t bother to dance around and just offered you a quiet chuckle, evidently enjoying the wide smile painted on your lips. “Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to say that I’m sorry.” he apologizes, shielding you from all the strings he had to pull just to get that cloth fixed up.
You hold the smooth and delicate piece in your hands as you look at Mat, letting your feelings get a better hold of you, “Thank you.” you say, unknowingly reaching out, your arms wrapped around his neck as you give him a quick peck on the cheek. 
Mathew’s hand instinctively finds your back to support you, startling himself in the process. Nonetheless, the thought was easily shrugged off by how close your faces were, your smiles fading once you meet each other’s gaze. You feel the same rush you felt the night you and Mat got involved for the first time. Your hand was placed rather endearingly on his cheek, your faces, just like all the other times, unreasonably close to each other. Mat then clears his throat and only looks you in the eye. 
Afraid that the innocent hug would lead to something more, perhaps another mistake to be jotted down on the board, you breathe a laugh and break away, “Uh, thanks again. It really means a lot.” 
Mat must’ve sensed that you were being cautious so he puts his guards up and returns a chuckle, “So… we good?” he asks, reaching out a hand your way. 
Your fingers slide into his, gliding its way perfectly, your hands fitted well with his despite the obvious difference in proportion. His grip tightens in the most comfortable way possible. 
A smile breaks off his lips once he hears you answer, “We’re good.”
“I should probably get some sleep.” Mat tells you the moment you pull your hand away.
“Are you gonna be okay here?” he adds.
You looked at him, not wanting him to be obligated to keep you company, “Oh, yeah. I’m a big girl.” you say, making Mathew grin, shaking his head.
“Alright. I’ll be in my room if you need anything.”
Not picking up on whatever sloppy insinuation Mat has thrown out carelessly into thin air, he hears a simple “Mkay.” 
Thus far, letting him know that his subtle invitation was far from being RSVP’d.
𖥸
“You’ll be in your room?” Mat scoffs, staring at the ceiling while he lays on his bed, “The fuck was that, Mat?” he scolds himself for always coming up with the worst things to say. 
Mathew would be lying if he’d say he hasn’t thought about you (or doing you) for the past week of not being around home. But he definitely wouldn’t deny that the roadie kind of made things easier for him because then he didn’t have to stomach seeing you walk around the flat looking like the hot piece of ass that you were in his eyes. 
Mat knows he needs to pull his shit together. He wasn’t some 13 year-old boy raging with hormones. He needs to control himself around you and he could only do that once he learns how to push this whole thing between the two of you behind him. 
What happened with you and Mathew shouldn’t have happened at all. It was just a moment of weakness, and he hated that he’d let his dick (and apparently, him being one) ruin the relationship he once had with you. 
Before that night, seeing you do yoga and work out on the terrace was just seeing you drenched in sweat, and in your work out clothes looking icky and constipated. Something he’ll later on tease you about and he’ll end up catching the water bottle you throw in his face. But now, after all that fucking, seeing you sweaty and all worked out in the same yoga pants is just like walking into a porn commercial. Like the ones they show before the actual porn. In fact, he doesn’t even have to watch any of it. Tents and Boners were pretty much sponsored by you from then on. It’s sick, and he knows it. 
However, the tension he feels with you is palpable that he’s even certain that you feel it too. But how can he be wrong? He sees how your eyes blink a few times when he’s fresh out the shower, he sees you follow his trance when you thought he wasn’t paying attention, and you never fail to slide him shadowed hints with every touch you “accidentally” pass at him. The kind that’s short enough to remain innocent but not so much as to keep him at bay. Mat hated everything about it. He hated that he wanted you– and he hated that he thinks he might be right about you wanting him too.
All that self-loathing aside, did he regret it? 
That was one of the things he feels bad about. Because as much as he wants to lie and push it aside, he didn’t regret any of it. He didn’t like you that way and just thought about you sexually but he just wishes that you could push past this and just be friends. He was still sexually attracted to you, yes. But he knows he’d eventually get over it and be back on his game. That is if he can ever find someone who’d be as good as how you were the last three times you’ve let him be with you because it would really help him a lot if he could stop picturing your mouth getting stretched by his cock every time he hops into the shower.
Mat was pulled from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. The shy banging sound made his heart beat rapidly in an instant, knowing full well that the two of you were alone in the house and that Tito was, in no way, going to be home for another hour or two.
A faint knock follows the first one before he gets to the door. 
“Hi.” you greet him, a moment unfolding like it was déjà-vu.
“Hi.” 
“Did I wake you?” you sheepishly ask, your hands balled into fists before eventually settling down to hug your own build, unsure of where to put your hands exactly.
Mat quickly shakes his head, “No. I couldn’t sleep myself.”
You offer him a smile, acknowledging how he’s been nothing but good to you ever since they got home. Of course you wanted to get your hands on him being that you were completely dry and horny ever since you’ve ignored him completely, but you haven’t gone mad and you weren’t a complete neanderthal. You can keep your hands to yourself and act like a decent human being. 
“I’m sorry for making things weird between us.” you say, your eyes heavy with guilt. “But I’m only apologizing for being so unreasonable for the last couple of weeks.” you reiterated.
To which he only answers with, “You shouldn’t be. You have every right to be unreasonable– and I know that I’ve been a giant prick that day. It’s what I deserve.” he bites his lower lip, scratching his brow as he continues, “That’s why if there’s someone who owes someone an apology, it should be me. What I did was pretty crappy, so… I’m sorry.”
Like all the other times, Mathew towers over you wearing the same confidence he does when you’re around. Your bodies were reasonably apart from each other but close enough to mean something else if someone had walked by. Mathew was still in his room while you were out in the hallway, separated by the thin line made by the door frame. 
You feel Mat’s steady breathing and everything went still. He looks down at you, pretty eyes drowning yours. His messed up bed hair ridiculously makes up for how dressed down he was. No, actually, he looks fine even when he is. And all of that sight instantly makes your throat dry as you feel something curl in your belly, enough to make your hands sweaty as the thought of tasting his lips again cruised your mind entirely.
Mathew was no stranger to the said feeling either. He watched you punish him more at how plump and inviting your lips were. Or how your hand brushed on your clothes as you remain uncomposed under his gaze. 
Mat was becoming accustomed to how the two of you meet. Same time, same place, only this time, a different hallway. He steps further and crosses the line that divides the two of you, making you take a deep breath as his scent floors every nerve in your body. Waking what has been awake ever since that moment you shared back in the living room even more. 
“Yeah, okay.” you gather yourself, “I– I should probably head back.” 
Just by how his shoulders dropped, you knew you had said the wrong thing. And you hated that you did. Mat clears his voice and swallows, breaking off his gaze, “You probably should.” 
“Good night, Mat.” you smile, trying to regain yourself. 
“Good night.” he replies as he watches you turn your back before finally closing the door behind him. 
Frustrated for he was already starting to feel things more than just being “sorry”, Mat leans against the door and runs a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath and tries to get you out of his head. 
He was about to walk away from the door and sleep off his frustration when he hears your faint footsteps on the other side of the door. He rests his head back on the wooden surface and sighs, “You’re still out there, aren’t you?”
There was a total silence for a moment, devoid of the knowledge of how you had your fist, ready to knock yet again, suspended in mid-air. 
Mathew hears you deny sheepishly, “No.” 
You hear him let out a small laugh, knowing that he was trying to contain himself. 
The door sprung open again, and for a second you thought how what you’re about to walk into will start another mess for you and Mathew. But how could you possibly think about it that way when you have nothing else but this man standing at the other end? 
A friend that took no seconds to waste as he finally lets his thirst and perhaps foolishness, get the better hold of him once he cages your heated face in his hands, crashing into your lips as fast as he’d taken you to his end of that thin gray line that has once irkingly parted him from you. A gray line you’re both willing to cross if that meant sharing another night in between halls and thin walls.
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snowywrites · 3 years
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Monika x Fem!reader
summary: fluffy fic of Monika and the reader on the reader's birthday.
word count: 2.4k
As far as birthdays go, this one wasn't really anything too special. Well, maybe you're being a little too cynical. After all, last year you hadn't really gotten to spend your birthday with any friends- you'd been preoccupied with getting home to watch the newest season of your favorite anime.
This year, however, Sayori had managed to get you into the Literature Club, and it had, not to be dramatic, changed your life. For better or worse, that was yet to be seen.
"Y/N, is everything okay?" Sayori asks expectantly, bright blue eyes examining you with bewilderment.
You focus back on the present, giving your friend a reassuring smile. "Yeah, sorry! Everything's great." And you aren't lying; today for the club meeting, Natsuki had brought cupcakes for everyone to share, Sayori had actually not realized what day it was and so gave you a 'birthday hug,' Yuri had given you a copy of one of her favorite horror novels as a gift, even signed by the author, and yet...
You can't help but give a very small sigh. "I just kind of miss Monika, I guess."
Sayori, Natsuki, and Yuri all exchange glances in their respective chairs at one of the club tables. They then all focus on you with varying expressions: Sayori with mischief, Natsuki with exasperation, and Yuri with knowing amusement.
"What? Don't look at me like that!" You squeak defensively, feeling your face begin to heat up at what they were implying. "I only meant that it's- it's weird being at a meeting without our club president! T-That's all." Not that this could be called a meeting per se- more like a celebration between friends.
Sayori giggles at your reaction, and you hear Yuri whisper to Natsuki, "The lady doth protest too much," which elicits a snort of laughter from the pink-haired tsundere.
You groan, standing up abruptly from your seat and smoothing down your school uniform a bit, self-conscious all of a sudden. As your embarrassment dies down though, you feel a wave of affection for your fellow club members. As much as they tend to tease you about your little crush on Monika, they had made your birthday really special this year, and you were grateful. "Anyway, thank you guys again for everything! I had a lot of fun," you say earnestly, deciding it was probably time to wrap up and head home.
Sayori bounces up to join you, and you bid your farewells to Natsuki and Yuri, gathering up your things and heading out of the classroom.
Sayori glances back to make sure that Natsuki and Yuri are in fact walking away, and then she reaches out to stop you. "Uhm, Y/N...?"
You pause to look at her expectantly, unsure of why she's much less energetic now than she was a few minutes ago. "Yes?"
"I-I was actually supposed to tell you something," your best friend begins, uncharacteristically quiet. You wonder briefly why she hadn't mentioned this before... maybe she had been debating on whether or not she actually wanted to tell you whatever it is, considering how the words are practically being dragged from her at this point. "Ah, well, Monika asked me to, that is. The reason she couldn't come to the Literature Club today was because she was stuck at a meeting with the student council, but..." Sayori exhales in what could be a sigh. "She did still wanna see you for your birthday, so she hoped you could stop by there and wait for her."
You stand there in the mostly empty hall of the school, puzzled at why this news would bring such a reaction from your friend- especially when it makes you feel so fluttery inside. "Oh!" You try not to let it show, but you're fairly certain you're lighting up like a Christmas tree. "I see. Thank you for telling me, Sayori!"
As you turn to leave, you feel Sayori reach out to touch your shoulder, but she retracts her hand quickly. When you look back at her, she's her old self, giving you a big smile. "Yeah, I guess you're gonna go see her, huh? Well, I'll catch you later, Y/N!"
Before you can respond, Sayori dashes off, forgetting to wish you a happy birthday.
Well, that was weird. Then again, Sayori's been pretty off lately whenever you and Monika are involved.
The thought of the brunette is enough to make you forget all about whatever might be troubling your best friend, and you make your way through the school to the student council room with a giddy spring in your step. They must not be out yet since the halls are pretty deserted still.
You risk taking a peek through the little glass window on the door, and your hunch is confirmed. Students belonging to the council are all sitting in a circle of chairs, discussing... well, school-related business stuff. You aren't really sure what they do, exactly.
You catch sight of Monika at the head of them, naturally because she is the president, but you aren't expecting to see her with such an expression.
Usually, Monika seems to you warm, open, patient, and friendly... but here, she looks... not even bored, but more like she's utterly apathetic towards all the conversations going on around her. You've never seen her so uncaring, to the point where she seems almost irritated by the presence of everyone in the room with her.
Maybe she's having a bad day? The thought makes you a bit sad, and you find yourself wondering if she would even want to see you. Do the others in the council even realize she's so unlike herself?
As if to answer your silent question, one of the other students turns to Monika to say something, and when they do, the familiar expression you're used to your club president wearing slips back with ease onto her face. She listens attentively to whatever it is she's being told, and then she smiles and nods, commenting something you can't hear in return.
You watch the exchange, too fascinated to stop watching even if you do worry someone might notice you peeking inside for such a long minute. As soon as the student turns away from her, Monika is once again the picture of discontentment; you even notice her tapping her nails listlessly against the surface of the table they're all seated at.
The sound of the doorknob rattling causes you to leap backwards in shock, stumbling slightly over your own two feet. The meeting must be over, because someone is stepping out, and then another, and then you're hurriedly dodging out of the path of the entire student body as they file out, talking and laughing with one another as they head down the hall, eventually leaving you alone.
"Y/N?"
Looking away from their retreating figures, you face Monika and find her as she always is with you- curious emerald eyes and a friendly air about her. "Ah- hello," you greet her, trying not to sound as awkward as you feel about your... let's be honest, spying.
"I wasn't really sure that you'd show!" She exclaims, startling you with a sudden hug.
You've actually never gotten a hug from Monika, although you have a ton of hugs to compare hers to- Sayori throws herself at you pretty much daily, and hers tend to be suffocating, always too tight and lasting a bit too long.
From Monika, though? Her hug, despite making your head spin and your heart skip a beat, makes you feel so safe, secure... she's so warm and you can't help but be enamored with whatever perfume she uses.
Unfortunately, you're too stunned to return the embrace in time before Monika pulls back from you, and you could swear she has a faint blush on her cheeks. She doesn't apologize for her impromptu action, though, and you're glad for that.
"Why wouldn't I?" You ask, dumbstruck.
She studies you for a few seconds, and you get the idea that she's trying to detect if you're being serious or not. Eventually she says, "Oh, nevermind that! I am glad to see you, though. I have something I wanted to give you."
'Please refrain from saying something really stupid and cheesy like, 'the best gift you could give me is just getting to see you on my birthday,' you think to yourself. "A gift? You really didn't have to- or, I mean, you shouldn't have-! Not that I don't appreciate it, though...!" You don't typically struggle so much with your words, but you're still a little off your game after the lovely hug. It's like your mind is foggy, your tongue is twisted, and you simply can't think straight. Which isn't really new when you're around Monika, but today it's impacting you even more than normal. Maybe because you two are all alone for once, not surrounded by Sayori, Yuri, or Natsuki, or even any other students for that matter.
Monika gives a soft laugh. "I wanted to. Technically it's two somethings rather than one," she admits.
You find your mind racing as it tries to go over the potential possibilities. A book like Yuri? That would be very fitting, since you'd befriended Monika through the Literature Club.
You watch as she takes a gift box out of her bookbag, offering it to you with a sweet, "Happy birthday, Y/N."
God, you're definitely blushing. Like, fierce blushing. Either that or the school suddenly decided to turn fifty heaters on all at once. 'Geez, pull yourself together!! Act normal!' You internally berate yourself. If there had been any doubt before, it was all erased in this one instant- you were head over heels for your club president.
"Awh, thank you! It's nice of you." You accept the gift, examining it momentarily. As expected of the class star Monika, the box itself is wrapped perfectly. It's even your favorite color, with a matching ribbon tying it shut. Whether or not you're a sentimental person, you recognize that this is the sort of memento that could easily be kept for a long, long time. You glance back to your friend. "May I open it now?"
Monika nods. "Please do!"
You feel her gaze on you as you carefully untie the ribbon and open up the gift box to see what's inside.
She was right, it is more than one thing. They sort of go together though, you realize as you lift one of the presents up to admire it.
In your hand is a necklace. The chain is a light silver, and the pendant contains a pretty stone in the shape of a heart. The stone shimmers slightly as it reflects the light of the school hall.
"It's so pretty...!" You breathe.
"I'm glad, I thought it was pretty too," Monika says. She sounds calm, but when you glance at her you think she's ecstatic, but the expression is gone as soon as you blink, leaving you to wonder if it had been your imagination playing tricks on you. "It's your birthstone, did you notice?"
You hadn't noticed until she'd pointed it out, but it was indeed your birthstone. Monika is just... so very thoughtful. It's really no wonder she's so popular. "Thank you so much!!" You chirp, still somewhat surprised that she would go so far just for a birthday gift for you. You hadn't known her personally for very long, after all.
You set the necklace back down inside the box to bring out the other gift, another accessory- it's the same color as your birthstone necklace, but it actually reminds you of something else.
Yes, it's a big bow similar to Monika's own. If you were to wear it, it could even look like she and you were matching. You could just be reading too much into things, though...
"I.. love them. So much." You have an overwhelming urge to put your thoughts onto paper in order to give Monika the proper thanks that she deserves for being possibly the most generous person in existence, and because you feel like you're failing miserably at voicing just how touched you really are by these gifts. "I almost want to get you something in return...!"
Monika shakes her head in amusement. "It's your birthday, not mine." A contemplative finger rests on her chin as she adds, "Although... there is something you could do for me. If you wouldn't mind, of course."
Perplexed, you respond without giving yourself a chance to think about it. "Anything!"
You're rewarded with an affectionate smile from Monika, but it seems as though she was expecting that to be your answer.
She extends a hand for the gift box that you've already set both the bow and necklace back in, inquiring, "May I?"
Wordlessly, your intrigue piqued, you hand it back to her. She takes the bow out first, stepping closer to you.
It's not foolish of you to have been anticipating a kiss- even now you could very easily initiate one if you so chose, because of how terrifyingly close Monika is to you as she gently pulls your hair back for you, tying it back with the Y/FC bow and even brushing a stray lock of hair from your face after she does so.
While you're struggling to recover from your short-circuiting, Monika takes the necklace and places it around your neck. The brush of her fingers sends sparks of static against your skin, and you feel as if time is standing completely still, and it's just you and her in this world.
The faint click of the necklace as it clasps shut is what brings you back to reality, and all too soon Monika is stepping away from you again, still close but at a much more reasonable distance away.
She appraises your appearance and then smiles softly. "As I thought."
Is she being mysterious on purpose or does being around her just happen to kill your brain cells? "E-Eh?"
"You look lovely, Y/N."
The compliment makes you want to bury your face in your hands in the futile hopes of hiding your blush, but by now it's probably too late for that.
You stutter out your thanks, desperately trying to mend your scattered thoughts, and she once again wishes you a happy birthday, reminding you as well to bring your poetry assignment to the club meeting tomorrow.
As she's leaving, you realize you never got the chance to ask about the strange behavior she'd exhibited during the meeting with the other students.
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labarch · 3 years
Text
Attempt at a Witch Hat Atelier timeline
We are still missing a lot of backstory for our main cast, but I thought I’d try and write a timeline based on what we know so far, and explore where their storylines might intersect.
I am pulling these numbers out of my hat for convenience sake, but here are some approximate ages for the characters: at the start of the manga, let’s say Coco, Tetia and Agott are all 12, Riche is 11, and Qifrey and Olruggio are 28.
20-23 years ago: Olruggio leaves his birth town Godley and moves to the Great Hall, maybe as young as 5 years old.
While many witches are born in the Great Hall, Olruggio comes from a town called Godley in the North. Yet he doesn’t remember Utowin, who came from the same place. We know that young witches usually start their training between the age of 7 and 10, but since witch society is awfully elitist, Olruggio would have been sent there as soon as his talent for magic became apparent.
Being ripped from his home at an extremely young age could explain his fear of being unwanted and left behind: he overworks himself as a way to feel useful and validated, is defensive about his own feelings, and he gets agitated and sometimes aggressive whenever Qifrey hides things from him.
20 years ago: arrival of Qifrey at the Great Hall at age 8. Olruggio befriends him soon afterwards. The both of them start sneaking out at night to chase Brimhats.
8 year old Qifrey was one fierce little thing, you have to give him that. His abuse at the hands of the Brimhats was brutal enough to break a grown man, but he picks himself up and goes right after them like “Alright jerks, you’ve got some explaining to do and I want my eyeball back!”.
Also it cracks me up that Olruggio was carrying this massive book in their flashback. Gotta love that his reaction to Qifrey’s “Let’s go chase some terrorists!” was “Sure, let me just pack my homework =>”.
Finally, there might be a slightly more selfish motivation for Olruggio’s fast friendship and devotion to Qifrey. Olruggio’s self-esteem lies in his ability to help people, so he would naturally be drawn to someone helpless. It’s unclear how much of Qifrey’s memory was missing: apparently he didn’t know about birthdays. How many other basic concepts was he missing? Did he know how to read? Between that, his lack of knowledge about magic and his injury, he was probably completely dependent on Olruggio at the beginning. Given Olruggio’s wish that they go back to “the good old times” when they were always together, I am wondering whether some hidden part of him misses being essential to someone. It’s well-intentioned, but not entirely healthy, especially if he is using Qifrey as a coping mechanism for his own insecurities.
14 years ago: Olruggio and Qifrey make a pledge of (betrothal) friendship, exchange tassels and attempt the Librarian test at age 14. It is their last adventure together, but Qifrey will continue his investigations on his own, to Olruggio’s disappointment and betrayal. Qifrey starts wearing his half-tinted glasses.
In the pledge flashback, they are wearing their old tassels, but they have swapped them by the time they undertake the third test. Also, when he remembers that pledge, Olruggio says that Qifrey’s investigation “should have ended at the Tower of Books”. The tower is the last likely place where Qifrey could have found answers about his past and a non-forbidden way of getting his eye back. Olruggio probably made him promise that he would stop his search afterwards.
Beldaruit says that he thought Qifrey had given up on his search after the third test, but Olruggio tells a slightly different story. Apparently he thought Qifrey “finally stopped causing trouble” after taking in apprentices, which means he was still behaving suspiciously right up until he became a teacher. Alaira also comments on Qifrey’s interest in the Brimhats in the first volume, so clearly his investigations were common knowledge among his friends, even as an adult.
Olruggio’s anger whenever the Brimhats are mentioned would then be caused not just by his own fear of forbidden magic, but by the reminder that Qifrey broke his promise to him, and refused to leave his past behind. Naturally, Olruggio doesn’t know about Qifrey’s change in circumstances: he is no longer looking to retrieve what he lost, but trying to stop an impending threat.
Qifrey’s discoveries in the Tower of Books also seem to have renewed his disgust towards his own scar: he starts wearing glasses shortly afterwards, even though his eyesight hasn’t yet started deteriorating.
14-5 years ago: in that interval, Coco’s father dies of illness. Olruggio becomes more and more famous for his magical items, and is given the title “Shining Torch” / “Master of Lights”. His glowstone paths become widely popular, and are installed around the castle near Coco’s mom. Both Qifrey and Olruggio pass the fourth test and complete their training.
At this stage, I really doubt that Qifrey intended to become a teacher. Whatever information he found at the Tower of Books convinced him he had to stop the Brimhats’ plan. He was probably planning to complete his training and then go straight on to his quest, not really expecting to return alive.
There are also hints that this was a strained period for Qifrey and Olruggio: Olruggio mentions that he would like them to confide in each other “just like old times”, which implies that they grew more distant after the Librarian test. I’m suspecting that Qifrey was trying to slowly remove himself from Olruggio’s life, hoping Olruggio would be so famous and beloved by the time they graduated that he would forget about Qifrey and barely notice his disappearance. Qifrey’s self-esteem isn’t the best y’all.
5 years ago: Coco receives the magic picture book from Iguin at age 7 at the Silver Night Festival. The Brimhats stop showing signs of activity. Qifrey takes on his first apprentice (probably Tetia, age 7). He interrupts his investigation of the Brimhats and creates the atelier. Olruggio becomes his Watchful Eye.
We don’t know exactly how old Coco was when she got her book, but her tiny chubby face makes me think she was 6-7. Alaira also tells us in the first volume that the incident with Coco’s mother is the first sign of Brimhat activity in five years. I am thinking that after Iguin gave away the book, he instructed the other Brimhats to keep a low profile until his scheme could hatch.
I also wonder whether Coco getting her book might coincide with Qifrey becoming a teacher and creating his atelier. Given that Qifrey is probably tied to Iguin’s schemes, how coincidental is it that Qifrey wandered into Coco’s village and set her fate in motion? Perhaps Iguin contrived for them to live in the same area so that they would meet eventually. Either he somehow influenced Qifrey’s choice of location for his atelier, or he selected Coco as his “child of hope” because of her relative proximity as well as her love for magic.    
7 years old is when we could expect Tetia to have passed the first test. For now we know little about her backstory, but we can guess a few things: she is enthusiastic and ambitious, but gets easily side-tracked by pet projects and struggles to stick to the curriculum. She craves positive feedback and is worried her spells and interests will be condemned as frivolous. It makes me think that she passed her first test early, but was then mistreated by her first teachers for being too childish.
We’ve seen that Qifrey has a compulsive tendency to adopt children in distress. It would fit his character if he became a teacher on impulse. Maybe he had to pass the fifth test in a rush to be allowed to keep Tetia by his side. This also brought Olruggio back into his life, as he was the only one willing to follow him away from the atelier as Watchful Eye.
The complicity between Tetia and Qifrey, and Tetia taking on the role of a big sister for both Riche and Coco, also make me think she was Qifrey’s first apprentice. Tetia is often shown teasing Qifrey, quoting both Qifrey and Olruggio, and imitating Qifrey’s teaching style: I can totally see them as a little family of three at some point in the past.  
4 years ago: Riche starts training under her brother’s master, a creepy asshole, at age 7.
We actually have a clear timestamp for that one in chapter 25, woohoo! Riche’s old teacher can eat a brick.
3-2 years ago: Qifrey and Olruggio learn about Riche’s mistreatment in her old atelier and promptly adopt her. Beldaruit takes on Ririfin as an apprentice. Qifrey’s eyesight starts deteriorating. He adds the light protection glyph to his glasses.
Before that time, Qifrey might have intended to put his quest on hold until after Tetia’s graduation, but now his impending blindness puts him on a time limit. He can’t do a lot about it however, since the Brimhats have been keeping a low profile for years and are not leaving him any clue.
It’s unclear how long Riche stayed at her old atelier, and whether she joined Qifrey before or after Agott. I’m hoping she made it out as soon as possible.
2 years ago: Agott passes the first test at age 10. She gets accused of stealing someone else’s spell, is rejected from her prestigious family’s apprenticeship, and joins Qifrey’s atelier.
Agott has been treated harshly by her family for not being enough of a genius. She mentions passing the first test at 10, the upper end of the normal age range. She was probably given a hard time for starting her apprenticeship so “late”, which explains why she is now adamant about passing the other tests as quickly as possible.
I wonder whether she felt ambivalent about joining Qifrey’s atelier at first. On the one hand, Qifrey was taught by the Sage of Education himself and is clearly very powerful. On the other hand, he has only a couple students and lives in a weird little school in the middle of nowhere, a big fall from grace compared to her prestigious upbringing. I wonder whether Qifrey went to find her after he heard she was the object of nasty rumours (he knows a thing or two about those), and Agott didn’t feel like she had other options.
0 year ago: Coco and Qifrey meet. Iguin goes “F***ing finally, I thought I’d have to watch that humdrum one-eyed twink bake potatoes for another five years. It’s dragon-slaying time now baby!!!”  
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shakey-hands · 3 years
Note
please please can we get fukuzawa awkwardly having to tell ranpo he’s dating reader and the two of them start fighting and reader is subjected to it??? 😍😍
haha yeah. first ask that imma answer, let me know if you guys want more. my asks are open for any (except mineta gross) mha, ouran, or bungo characters :)
{this one is gonna be done with she/her pronouns but if you ask for gender neutral or he/him or any other pronouns, i can do it}
---
The clock struck two when Y/N looked at her phone, leg bouncing up and down in a way that always annoyed the people around her. Great. It was thirty minutes past their meeting time and her boyfriend still had not shown up with what she understood was his adopted son.
It had been a good plan. Meet on neutral territory, gas up (what Y/N assumed was) a teenage boy with a sweets addiction, and then break the news. Y/N was not sure why they needed to go through such lengthy troubles to inform her boyfriend’s son that they were dating. He was at least old enough to understand what dating was. And from what she had heard from Kunikida, Fukuzawa’s son had a very prominent dating life of his own. But Y/N trusted her boyfriend, no matter how many times he looked off into the distance with quiet wisdom that felt vague.
Y/N sipped her tea, realizing that caffeine would only worsen her anxiety. It didn’t matter how many times Fukuzawa and Kunikida tried to tell her that the meeting wouldn’t be a big deal and that the son would love her, she wasn’t so sure. He was working at the Armed Detective Agency and was good at what he did. At least those were Kunikida’s words as Y/N and him were quietly reading in the same room as they did on Saturday nights. While Y/N appreciated Kunikida for his straight forward/driven personality, he did not fare well in comforting her.
Which brought her to her boyfriend. His solid, piercing eyes would always soften as she talked about her day over their dinner dates and he would brush the back of his hand on her cheek in the moments they were alone with one another. While Y/N rarely noticed because she herself was too infatuated with him, Fukuzawa cared deeply for her after seven months of dating. Their last hurdle was introducing Y/N to Ranpo. Fukuzawa was not at all worried since Y/N had a knack for making sweets and made people feel as if they were special when she smiled at them. There was never a shortage of praise around her.
Y/N checked her phone again, hoping that an apology text would come through and she would not be left in the dark. That however was proving difficult. Fukuzawa was driving with Ranpo eating cotton candy in the passenger seat. He had to be bribed away from the sweets table Dazai had set up for some ungodly known reason to mess with Atsushi. It was embarrassing how long it took for Kunikida to pry Ranpo’s little grubby hands away from the snacks and then another amount of time for Fukuzawa to get Ranpo to put on his seatbelt.
It made Fukuzawa nervous that he was so late. He knew Y/N would be understanding, it was part of the reason he enjoyed her company so much. Knowing her, she would probably be bouncing her knee and staring down at the table, overthinking things. He, of course, was right.
As Fukuzawa was pulling into the parking lot, he spotted his girlfriend’s car. It was pristine, as always, and had a small cat paw sticker on the back left bumper. He smiled inwardly, realizing that he had been waiting for this. There was a future with Y/N and Fukuzawa couldn’t wait.
Ranpo still had yet to get out of the car, his glasses dangling from his shirt pocket and a light dusting of sugar crystals on his lips. He was pouting, of course. Kunikida did not pack enough snacks for the car ride, meaning Ranpo did not have the mental energy to get out of the car and go into whatever flop coffee shop the president insisted they go into. People were so stupid and Ranpo already just finished a case that was so obvious. The local police really needed to be more useful.
“Get out of the car,” Fukuzawa said, getting more and more agitated.
“No,” Ranpo said.
“Let’s go. I promise there will be sweets inside the shop.”
“So? There were sweets at the agency.”
Fukuzawa rolled his eyes, knowing Ranpo would sit in the car out of stubbornness. “Ranpo-”
“Yukichi?” A soft voice called out from the entrance of the cafe.
Fukuzawa turned to see Y/N standing right outside. She had a to-go cup of something hot in her hands, jacket sleeves pulled over her hands to stop the warmth from burning her skin. Even though it was overcast and windy, Y/N still seemed to have a certain glow about her that always took Fukuzawa’s breath away. She waved timidly, not knowing why he was awkwardly standing behind his parked car with a weird defensive stance. He nodded over to her, giving her a genuine smile before turning his head back to the car and glaring.
“Is everything okay?”
Y/N began to approach her boyfriend. The only other time she had seen her boyfriend have this stance was when she had bumped into some eyebrowless pale emo kid in an accident at the mall. Fukuzawa seemed to pick the weird fights, but she just smiled through it. His eyes held a certain annoyance the Y/N had not seen before. Her eyebrows furrowed as she took a step off the curb. Fukuzawa held out his hand, motioning her to not get closer. Y/N paused, unsure about his demeanor.
“Ranpo, don’t make me ask again.” Fukuzawa’s voice held a bass to it that Y/N had never heard before. She could only assume it was his dad voice that he has never had to use with her.
The window rolled down on the old car for just a crack. “I don’t remember a question being asked.”
The voice was whiny and slightly muffled, as if the speaker had sweets in his mouth. Fukuzawa rolled his eyes and put his hand on the glass. Y/N was slightly shocked by her boyfriend, but decided to let him do his thing. She was not a parent and the closest time she had ever been was when she had a babysitting gig decades ago when she was a teen. While she was interested in a family, she had neither the time nor mental capacity to follow through. So she stepped back onto the curb and took a sip of her tea, relishing in the warmth it provided.
“Ranpo, if you don’t get out of the damned car, there will be no sweets at the agency for a year.”
A clear threat had been made.
The door slammed into the car next to it, causing a dent that Fukuzawa watched form. Out from the passenger seat, a short man with a slight pout crawled out of the car. Definitely not the young teenager Y/N had been expecting. He was only slightly taller than Y/N and wore a cape. In fact, he looked like a full grown adult, maybe only ten years younger than Y/N. Her face said it all, though neither men were looking at her. They just stared one another down before Fukuzawa remembered his loving girlfriend stood awkwardly behind him. He motioned for her to come over.
Ranpo did not look impressed as he looked her up and down. Y/N looked too ordinary to know Fukuzawa in her jeans and plain jacket combo. Her shoes were dirty from all the yard work she had done throughout the years. As she got closer, Ranpo watched closely as Fukuzawa gently touched the small of her back before wrapping his arm around her waist. While Ranpo had never seen the President act like this, he did not care.
“Ranpo, I would like you to meet-”
Ranpo yawned loudly. “She’s way too old for me. Almost to hag status.”
Y/N’s eyes widened. She began to stumble over her words, not knowing how to respond. Fukuzawa’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe that Ranpo would even think he was trying to set them up. Ranpo made a disgusted face.
“No offense lady, but you don’t even look fun. Like all you do is sit in the dark and contemplate the excitement of frostingless yellow cake.”
How do you respond to that?
Y/N looked down, not sure if she wanted to laugh or cry. She was suddenly thankful for the sudden gust of wind that burned her cheeks, a sign that snow was rolling in. Who insults like that? The little sniffle that Y/N let out set Fukuzawa back into the present instead of the daydream he had slipped into where Ranpo got his ass beat.
“You can’t talk to her like that,” Fukuzawa said sternly. “And she’s not here for you.”
“Obviously. She could never handle the Greatest Detective.”
“No!” Fukuzawa said, tightening his grip on her waist. “I wanted you two to meet because we’ve been dating for a while and I thought it was finally time for you two to meet.”
Ranpo suddenly scoffed dramatically. Once. Twice. Three times. “And here I thought we agreed never to keep secrets! And all this time you’ve been giving your praise to someone else!”
Fukuzawa looked at the small man incredulously. “I’m allowed to date, Ranpo.”
“Not really!” Ranpo exclaimed, throwing his hands up into the air. Those who were passing by continuously glanced, wondering why they were arguing so loudly in a public space. “How gross is that! You’re like centuries old!”
“Look, I just thought you’d want to be in the know. If I had known you’d throw a tantrum, I would have just waited until after we were married.”
In that moment, Ranpo and Y/N spoke simultaneously:
“Tantrum?!”
“Married!?”
“Oh I’ll show you a tantrum!”
Ranpo pushed the old car to make it move back and forth in its parked place before beginning to punch the glass. There was no real power behind his throws, so there were soft thumps being emitted. Next he started to kick the tires, also without power behind his movements. He truly had transformed into a toddler, making the people walking by walk a little faster. He came off as some random crazy person on the street rather than an acclaimed detective.
Fukuzawa didn’t know where to look until a warm soft hand held his cheek, guiding his eyes towards Y/N’s. She smiled softly, ignoring Ranpo as he began to get physical. Her smile caused a chain reaction in Fukuzawa’s heart, making him resist the urge to get down on one knee at that very instance. He did have the ring adding weight to his pocket. She kissed his forehead, making him awkwardly bend down as she chuckled against his skin.
“You want to marry me?”
Fukuzawa blushed slightly. “In due time, of course.”
She chuckled again and nodded. “Of course.”
“I’m not calling her mom!”
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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years
Text
#1: the proposal | plan b.
pairing: angel reyes x black!reader | chapter rating: 💙
total # of parts in series: 10
join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird
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I keep falling for boys and mistaking them for men
series sum: After several failed relationships, you decide that you’re over waiting for Mr. Right to come around and help start a family. In a drunken ramble, you ask your best friend if he’ll be your donor. You didn’t expect him to say yes. As you and Angel enter uncharted waters, you both realize neither of you fully thought the initial proposal through.
words: 1.8 K
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What is it they say…hope breeds eternal misery.
Or, as Angel Reyes likes to say, “I don’t know why you’re wasting time on that asshole.”
Asshole is the nicest term you can dub your boyfriend--correction, your ex-boyfriend.
Ex-boyfriend.
It’s strange how quickly two letters--a simple prefix--can change your life.
One minute, you’re joining your boyfriend and his family on a getaway to the beach. The next, you’re being kindly escorted out of a restaurant for tossing a drink in his face.
When you’d left Santo Padre Friday afternoon, you had a single thought in your mind. He’s finally going to propose. The nervous behavior, the talks about moving to a bigger apartment, him inviting you to a weekend getaway with his family.
How else would a rational person explain this behavior?
Well, according to Michael, all of those things do not add up to a proposal. They add up to “softening the blow."
As you sit on the curb waiting for your uber, with Michael's big splurge of the evening in hand--a bottle of Cabernet, you realize his explanation was complete bullshit. How is dragging you to Santa Monica for the weekend "softening the blow?" If he was going to break up with you, he could have done it in Santo Padre.
As you double-check the ETA on your uber, you remember.
Michael didn't drag you to Santa Monica to break up with you. He dragged you to Santa Monica to ask you to "take a break."
Apparently, there's a difference.
As Michael put it, with his birthday fast approaching, he'd had an epiphany. He needed time to "get out there" and "explore" his options.
"We're in our thirties," he'd explained. "We only have a few years left before we're expected to settle down, have kids. I think we should take this time to get everything out of our system, so by the time we come back together, we're ready to start that family you're always talking about."
The nervousness you'd seen the past two weeks? Had nothing to do with hiding a ring, or trying to find the perfect opportunity to pop the question. The nervousness was Michael trying to find the right time to ask you not to renew the lease of the apartment, you share, at the end of the month.
The talk about upgrading to a bigger apartment? Had nothing to do with having an extra room for the kid you've both talked about having. It was so that he could move in with his two best friends.
Michael’s epiphany left you in shock. You were caught between realizing the entire revelation wasn’t a complete joke and realizing you were expected to ride home with his family in the morning. The drink tossing didn’t come until Michael rubbed his hands together, a knowing smile sliding onto his face.
Taking your shocked silence as a lack of protest to his idea, Michael nodded over his shoulder. “You wanna head back up to the room...have some fun our last night together?”
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The weight of Samantha--wait. No. Savanna...Sabrina? No, Salena.
The weight of Salena’s body presses Angel into the mattress. Her body is nearly directly on top of his, her face nuzzled into the warmth of his neck.
He’s not used to women sleeping over. Angel has one rule. He wants to sleep alone. Translation, be gone when he wakes in the morning.
That’s why, when he wakes to the sound of a slamming door, Angel is pissed.
His initial thought is that Salena let the door slam on her way out. The only problem is, Salena is still in bed with him--sleeping soundly. If she wasn’t, he would have been up able to react quicker. Because if it’s not Salena leaving, it means that someone is coming in.
“You need to go,” Angel mumbles as he manages to escape her grip.
Salena responds by rolling over and ignoring his request.
When he leaves his bedroom, Angel finds his entire house in darkness. His hand runs down his face as your voice fills the air.
"Ow--shit!" Your keys and purse fall to the floor as you bump into the coffee table.
"Y/N, what are you doing?"
“What are you doing?” You counter the slurring of your speech causing Angel’s head to shake. “...standing in the dark like a fucking creep.”
“Are you drunk?”
Your head shakes. Even if half-asleep, Angel knows you’re not drunk. You’re hammered, at least by your standards. He’s known you long enough to realize you’re a lightweight. A two and a half-hour ride with a bottle of Cabernet meant you were well past your limit.
“And why are you back early--did you drive here?”
“No,” you scoff. “I took an uber obviously--”
A second trip into the coffee table silences the rest of your response.
“Alright, come on--” Angel takes your hand in his, preventing you from falling forward.
“I don’t need your help.” Yanking your hand free of his grip--with more force than necessary--you stumble backward. Between the late hour and his body still attempting to shake off its grogginess, the action is too fast for Angel to predict. “Or any man’s help for that matter...fucking men--always thinking they need to save me--”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about you--and fucking...fucking Michael--that piece of shit...” Despite your previous attempt to escape him, you turn on your heels causing Angel to bump into you. Instinctively, his hands find your waist. An innocent attempt to help maintain your balance. “--I said I don’t need help walking, Angel--”
“Clearly.” The smirk on his lips narrows your eyes.
The pathetic attempt of a shove you apply to his chest is enough to tip your already unsteady balance.
In his defense, Angel isn’t used to “rescuing” you from a drunk faceplant. Usually, the roles are reversed.
It may not be the smartest move, but it’s the quickest way to prevent another one of your escape attempts. Angel tightens his grip on your waist, pulling a small yelp from your lips as he lifts you off the ground throwing you over his shoulder.
The sudden shift in your posture blurs your vision--sending the room spinning. The rush of blood to your head causes your palm to come down hard in frustration against Angel’s back.
“Put me down…” Angel’s head shakes as your slurred speech trails off for a moment. Seizing the break in your resistance, he carries you across the darkened room towards the security of the sofa. “...what the hell are you doing in my house anyway?”
“This is my house.” Angel huffs as he lowers you onto the sofa. “If you get up, I’m not stopping you. I'm serious, I'll let you bust your ass this time.”
But moving from the sofa has already left your mind. Instead, your focus has drifted. Scanning the living room as Angel disappears. Despite his words, you're still not sure why you've ended up at his house and not yours.
“Here drink this,” Angel sighs as he returns. He hopes the glass of water will miraculously sober you up. Between failing to kick Salena out, and you showing up drunk at 3 in the morning, Angel is considering giving up women. At least for a few hours.
Angel’s steps come to a slow halt as he rounds the sofa to find you gone. Somehow, in the time it took him to fill a glass with water, you have slid down to the floor. Your back against the sofa, you’ve given up the impossible task of unfastening your heels. Instead, you’re tugging at them. Groans of frustration fill the air once the heels remain in place.
The shaky breaths and trembling of your fingers widen Angel’s eyes.
“Shit--are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.” The shaking of your head only seems to push the tears out faster. The blurring of your vision makes the task at hand impossible. “I’m not crying.”
“My bad, you’re not crying,” Angel repeats, hopeful it’ll make the crying stop. Handling a crying woman is not his strongest suit. In fact, he tries to avoid crying women at all costs. He focuses on the easier task of removing your heels. He offers you an encouraging smile once he’s done. “See, you’re all good.”
“No, I’m not.” Reaching forward, you grab the nearest heel, launching it as hard as you can. “Michael got me these.”
You manage to grab the second heel before Angel can. You launch it in the same direction as the first.
“I’ve always hated those ugly fucking shoes.”
The second heel doesn’t land in the middle of the floor like its predecessor. Instead, it flies straight into Salena’s arm as she rounds the corner.
“Ow--what the fuck? Angel!”
The overhead light cuts on, temporarily blinding both you and Angel. When you open your eyes, you find a half-dressed Salena standing over you. Your discarded heel in her left hand, her narrowed eyes focused on you.
"So, this is why you wanted me to leave? Your girlfriend is home?"
"Neither of us is his girlfriend, sweetheart." you correct.
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“I’m not sleeping in your bed ever again,” you clarify, your voice muffled against your palms. “Not until you wash your sheets.”
In the time it took to get Salena out of the house you’ve found that your body has begun to crash. The idea of laying down the only thought of your mind. That’s why the moment he’s settled alongside you on the floor, Angel’s shoulder becomes your pillow.
“Please don’t say I told you so.”
Passing up the opportunity to be right, is not in Angel’s nature. But one look at you, he’s biting his tongue.
“I never liked him.”
“You've never liked anyone I’ve dated,” you laugh quietly.
“That’s because you only date assholes.”
“Takes one to know one.”
“Exactly.”
Angel's arm drapes around you, the gentle squeeze he gives bringing a weak smile to your lips.
“That’s it,” you sigh. “I’m done dating. Forever.”
“Dating is overrated,” Angel notes.
It’s a phrase Angel has told you nearly a million times over the years. Typically, after you’ve watched him ensnare yet another naive woman with his smile. You typically roll your eyes at Angel's mantra, but right now, you don’t even bother.
“I’m serious, if you see me even blinking at the same guy twice grab me.”
“Yeah, okay,” Angel chuckles.
He knows there's no point in taking the promise any further. If Angel is a cynic when it comes to dating, you’re the poster child for hopeless romantics.
When you fall in love, you fall hard. When you get heartbroken, the fallout hits the hardest.
“I can’t wait until my forties to have a kid.”
“What?”
“I’ll be in my sixties when they graduate high school--my sixties!”
“That’s what this is about?”
“...he doesn’t want kids...at least not right now...he wants time to explore other options before being shackled to me forever.”
“I’m going to kick his fucking ass.”
“When you do, can I watch?”
“Fuck that, you’re getting in a few hits.”
“I can’t believe I wasted three years on him, thinking he was going to help me start a family,” you groan. “When I could’ve just asked you.”
Angel laughs, his smile growing as you giggle.
“I’m serious. Definitely would’ve happened faster.”
“If you want to have sex with me, there are much easier ways--”
“Shut up, it is not about sex,” you assure him as your eyes drift shut. “I actually pride myself in being one of the few women in this town you haven’t slept with. Being immune to your charm is a superpower.”
“You still ended up here tonight,” Angel grins.
You softly smile.
“That’s because you’re my best friend, and you always give the best hugs when I feel like shit.”
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series taglist: @youlovetkay @mochachocolatteyaya @chaneajoyyy @sesamepancakes
angel + all mayans tags: @turn-thy-paige @finalgirlhales @jadesid @poetically-0riginal @diaryofkali @babaohhhriley @katastrophic04 @partypoison00 @rose-bliss @mayansxlover @joannasteez @headrushxreeta @brwnlikefoxy @nemesis729 @destiny-tsukino @inyourbackpocketisbutterflies @straightestgay-voice
all stories: @rosieposie0624 @amberritonicole @agoldin @est1887@toni9 @chaneajoyyy @relaxing-najee @awkwardtayler @siempremamita @seize-the-droid @glimmerglittergirl @cutiebubbleboo @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @sincerelykas @brattyfics @ladyofsoa@browneyes912 @beiroviski @sadeyesgf @mrsmarvelous1995 @everyhowlmarksthedead @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @demonquartz @appropriate-writers-name @ughdontbeboring @cocotheclown @thesandbeneathmytoes @queenbeered @starrynite7114 @wiccanmetallicrose @tomhardydallasstarsgirl
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supercorpkid · 3 years
Text
It’s crossover season – Part 2.
Supercorp, Kara Danvers x Daughter!Reader, Lena Luthor x Daughter!Reader, Iron Man x TeamMate!Reader, Captain America x TeamMate!Reader, Bucky x TeamMate!Reader, Falcon x TeamMate!Reader, Vision x TeamMate!Reader, Wanda x TeamMate!Reader.
Word count: 2675.
Previously on the series - part 1
“What do you mean no one can lift Thor’s hammer?” You ask Cap, who puts his arms around you with a little smile. “Is it made by a million tons of condensed dwarf star?”
“Is it what? No, nothing like that. It’s a long story.” He says guiding you back inside. “The important part is that you just showed everyone how worthy you are.” You smile at the compliment. “Do you mind training a little, before the big fight? I just want to make sure you’re in sync with the rest of the team.”
“Yeah. I would love that.” You agree with your head and Cap guides you to a large room with a bunch of new people you don’t know.
“Guys, this is Superkid. She is back-up for the fight that is to come.” Cap says and you smile shyly, looking at everyone staring at you. “Remember that we’re facing a strong and big army, and any help is more than welcomed.” He looks back at you. “Now onto work.”
You agree with your head, and he leaves. You look at a guy with wings coming out of his suit and nod.
“Nice wings.” You smile politely. He agrees with his head.
“Thank you! Nice…” He looks at you for a second and you finally notice what you’ve been wearing all along. Your momma’s old college T-shirt, and sweatpants.
“Oh, sorry!” You change into your super suit using your super speed and go back to the same place you were.
“So, you’re fast.” He says like he has deciphered you. “I’m Sam, aka Falcon.” He points at himself. “Red guy over there is Vision.” You look up to see an actual red guy flying.
“Lovely to make your acquaintance.” He says from up there.
“Yeah. You too.” You look back at Sam, pointing at the only other girl in the room.
“That’s Wanda.”
“Cool. Hi Wanda!” You wave at her and she kind of waves, kind of nods at you, but doesn’t quite do any.
“Bucky.” Sam says at the guy coming closer with a frown on his face.
“Are we going to kindergartens to pick up heroes now?” It’s what Bucky says, when he gets closer to you and you roll your eyes. Not another one questioning your abilities because of your age.
“Nice arm.” You point at his metal arm with a smile. “Is that your superpower? You have a metal arm?”
“Funny.” He frowns while Sam laughs at him.
“Come on, kid. Time to show us what you’ve got.” Sam says and they all walk to the same side, leaving you alone in the other.
“So, it’s all of you against me?” You furrow your brows and they smile.
“Don’t worry, we’ll go easy on you.” Bucky says with a blank face, and you shrug.
Falcon is the first to come at you. Wings up, flying towards you, with a gun in hand. He doesn’t shoot, but he doesn’t catch you either. You fly up, and when he passes down on you, you throw your body back at him, making him fall on the ground. He uses his wings to protect himself from the fall and rolls to the other side of the room.
Next, Bucky comes at you. You know he’s more of a combat guy. That’s not your fighting style, you are aware. You were never really good at that, so you should avoid it. He comes in, metal arm ready to punch you and you hold his hand before it hits your face. You don’t know what this metal is, but it’s very strong, and a lot harder to break than you thought. Still, you make an effort to at least make a dent in it.
“Stop!” He pulls his arm away from your grip. “This is expensive, kid. Don’t break it.”
“Sorry.” You look at the little dent you made in it and smile apologetic. “I’ll go easy on you.”
But your time with Bucky is over, because Vision is coming at you now. He flies towards you at full speed, but he doesn’t have his fist closed. He is not going to punch you. Instead, he hits you with some kind of yellow ray, and you look at your hands glowing yellow, and feel your entire body shivering like you just got a blast of excitement.
“What is this?” You ask him, and he stops. Surprised you’ve taken such a hit, without running from it.
“Solar energy?” He asks, landing in front of you. “You were not supposed to take the hit, I thought you would move away from it.”
“Solar energy?” You smile. “Cool, man. That’s how I get my powers. And you just blast me with the strongest sunlight I’ve ever seen. I bet I’m even stronger now!”
Just to test it, you punch the floor, making a hole all around you. You notice, kind of too late, that this is probably the second time you’ll cause structural damage to a room, when you hear the windows breaking, making glass fly everywhere. Just a second later you hear the walls starting to give in and soon they’re crumbling down.
You look around, before the ceiling falls on top of you, to see the rest of ‘the Avengers’, and pick them up to save them from it. But you’re a second too late, because soon, there’s a red energy force around you, and before you blink, you’re thrown away, along with everyone else from the team to the field next to it.
You roll on the floor, stopping a little further away from everyone else, and you look at the now destroyed room you were all inside.
“I’m sorry.” You look at them feeling a little embarrassed. That was too much. You went too far. “Did I mess up big time?”
“Oh no, don’t worry. Who here never destroyed an entire reinforced training space?” Sam says, sounding a little bit too ironic, and you don’t know if he maybe meant it as a joke, or to try to make you feel better. Either way, you think this isn’t the first time you’ve destroyed your training place. “Besides, Tony’s a billionaire.” He says standing up, and you look up to Wanda, landing in front of you, and offering her hand to help you up.
“Thanks for getting us out of there.” You smile and she agrees with her head.
“Yeah, sure. Just don’t destroy the other side of the compound. That’s where we sleep.” She smiles and you agree with your head.
“I’m not mad.” You hear behind you, and you turn around to look at Mister Stark himself looking at the mess you made. “I just want to know who did it.” He takes off his sunglasses just to stare at you. “Let me guess, smart mouth over here is not only great at talking back, but she is also a destruction weapon?”
“In my defense…” You try, knowing there’s absolutely no defense for what you just did. “Vision hit me with solar energy, and you know that’s where my powers come from.”
He sighs, looking at you one last time, before putting his sunglasses back. If you weren’t paying attention, you would’ve missed the little smile on the corner of his lips.
“Where should I send the bill to?” He asks walking past you and you know it’s a rhetorical question, but you still roll your eyes and answer.
“L Corp.”
“Not a real place. But nice try.” If you didn’t have super hearing, you wouldn’t have caught that. “Wanda, do you mind showing our little troublemaker where she’s staying tonight? I hope we’re lucky enough that she won’t destroy that.”
“Come on.” Wanda points at the other side of the compound. “Let’s fly there.”
Wanda leads you to the other wing of the compound and shows you an empty bedroom you can stay in. You sit on the bed feeling relentless. There’s too much going on in your head, you would sound crazy if you try to put it into words.
It’s weird being here. It’s your first thought. But it’s also nice. You’re used to being around super-heroes. You were never a stranger to the saving lives and saving the world concept. It’s been like this ever since you were born, and you never knew another life. But whatever this is, it’s not what you’re used to. This is not a house, you understand that by looking around, this is a safe place. Sort of like the Fortress of Solitude. But instead of solitude, you find that there’s so many people around. What you’re feeling right now is anything, but loneliness.
So many superheroes with different abilities, all living together, training, making each other better. People with so many backgrounds. You were so scared they could find out you’re half alien, and then Thor waltzes in looking like he just belongs on this Earth, and you find peace. For the first time the thought of you being half alien is not scary. You’re not scared if they know that. In fact, you want them to know that.
You want them to know you, and you want to know them. You want to hear all about Thor’s hammer and why apparently no one else in this house can lift it, no matter how strong they are.
“It’s called Mjölnir.” Wanda says and you look at your door with wide eyes. You earn a soft chuckle in response. “The fact why no one can’t lift it, it’s because there’s some Asgardian protection and only who’s worthy can lift it.”
“Worthy of what?” You ask and she shrugs, walking to the chair in front of your bed.
“I guess who has a pure heart or good intentions?” Wanda waves it off, and you agree with your head. “Honestly, you have immense power. I guess the fact that you’re a kid also helps with the ‘pure heart’ part.”
“Like you’re that much older.” You roll your eyes, and Wanda smiles again. She must be only four years older than you. It’s not that big of a difference. And yet, here she is. Part of ‘the Avengers’. Fighting, being a back-up for everyone. While you just keep destroying training centers like a big stupid mess.
“Hey, stop that.” Wanda says and you raise your eyes to stare her. “You’re not a big stupid mess.”
“And you can stop reading my thoughts, please.”
“I’m sorry. But you’re wrong anyways. I wasn’t always back-up. In fact, I was once someone they were fighting against.” She breathes deep after that. You furrow your brows.
“Really?”
“Yeah, really.” She bites her lips while fidgeting with her rings. “No one here is perfect. Everyone has a past where they did something they shouldn’t have.”
“Oh really? Even Mister Playboy?” You ask.
“Especially him. He made his money by selling weapons that were used by the bad guys. He might be a genius, but his money? I don’t really like to think about where that came from.”
“Sam? Bucky?”
“Sam was military, so I bet he’s done a lot. Bucky was literally brainwashed and has killed a long list of people by the command of a huge bad organization.” Wanda adds, and you furrow your brows taking some time to absorb her words. “Just-” She makes her way to sit in bed with you. “I know you feel bad for destroying the training center, and honestly you don’t have to.”
“I’m sorry, I’m still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that you all have such intense-” You look at her to see her reaction to the word. She hums in agreement. “Pasts.” You think about Kara. “I’m not very familiar with that.”
“How come?”
“Well, my momma is from a planet called Krypton and it exploded. So, she was sent to Earth, not this one,” you make sure to add. “She always did good. I think she sort of felt like she had to, ‘cause Earth was welcoming her after the loss of her planet, you know?”
“She never made a mistake?” Wanda raises her eyebrow and you think about a few times Kara was affected with red Kryptonite and sure, she made a few mistakes back there, but none was intentional. She was never fully conscious and chose to do so. You shake your head in denial. “Ooof, it must be hard. Is it only the two of you?”
“No. There’s my other mom. She came from a family of villains. My uncle is just always out to kill me and my momma, because we’re aliens.” You say, not aware why you’re telling this girl you just met everything about your life. “But, despite all that, my mom is good. She’s a genius who just makes stuff to make my Earth better.”
“I see now why you’re worthy of Thor’s hammer and the rest of us aren’t.” She chuckles and you give her a forced smile.
“I’m not so good. Not like they want, anyways.” You say and Wanda agrees with her head, like she understands you.
“You know something I learned when I joined the Avengers?” You look at her with puzzling eyes. “You can’t always be good. It’s impossible. The world isn’t black and white, things are not easy like that. You can try to do good as much as you’d like, but sometimes you think you’re on the good side, and you’re not. At all.” She really seems to be talking about her own experiences here. “There’s this grey area and sometimes we find ourselves there.”
“And then what do we do?” You are really interested, because maybe you’re in this grey area.
“We survive and we go on.” She shrugs. “That’s the only thing we can do.”
Go on. That’s her advice. She goes on. That’s not something Kara and Lena would say to you. They would’ve said the only thing you can do, is do your best. Do better. Fight your way out of this grey area. They would never have told you to just survive, and just go on. But here’s the thing, sometimes just surviving is you already doing your best.
You stare at Wanda’s face and hum in agreement. She’s right. And the best part? She wouldn’t force you to do better, but just to go on.
“Wow, you’re really wise for someone your age.” You are legit impressed with her. She smiles at you.
“I have been through a lot of pain and losses.” Her expression immediately saddens at that, and you can only imagine what she’s been through. “It forced me out of my youth.”
“Sorry about that, Wanda.”
“Yeah.” She shrugs, getting up, and she points to the door in front of yours. “I’m in that room, in case you need something. Just rest a little. Tomorrow will probably be the hardest day of your life.”
Wanda leaves your bedroom and you look around, breathing deep. Man, aren’t you far from home?
You think about Kara and Lena, and you hope they’re not worried about you. Because this might sound weird, but it feels good to be here. It feels like this is where you are actually supposed to be right now.
Post-credit scene:
“This is it?” Kara says landing in front of a door, putting Lena next to her. Lena picks up the card again and looks at it.
“This is it. 177A Bleecker St.” She agrees with her head.
“There’s nothing inside.” Kara walks in the front door, giving it a push strong enough to open it even though it is locked. They walk in an empty building, covered with dust and silence. “She’s not here. There’s nothing here.”
“Kara.” Lena calls and Kara turns around to look at her. Both have watery eyes, and hearts beating out of their chest. “I want my baby.”
“I want her too.” Kara says, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders, bringing her closer. “I’m gonna find her. I will find you, little one. I’ll find you.”
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five-rivers · 3 years
Text
Pennywort and Swallowtails
For @phantomphangphucker :)
Prompt:  Flynn, due to being Phantom’s aka the Ghost King’s family and part of the Zone’s society, receives a Prince title and is now getting crowned.
.
Flynn couldn’t put his finger on exactly why, but the Ghost Zone seemed different lately.  There was something in the atmosphere, almost.  It felt… lighter, maybe?  
He didn’t like it.  
After all these years in the Ghost Zone, he’d come to regard any change from the norm with suspicion.  The tendency had saved his life multiple times.  Usually, such changes were caused by a nearby and powerful ghost.  Or, on rare and terrifying occasions, a not so nearby and obscenely powerful ghost.
For example, that Pariah Dark guy he’d heard about from some of the ghosts he traded with.  Flynn sure was glad someone else had taken care of him.  Not that Flynn was much good in a fight against any ghost more powerful than that annoying one in overalls that showed up whenever Flynn so much as thought of making anything even vaguely box-shaped.
Which wasn’t that often.  Flynn had never really nailed the whole carpentry thing. Ha.  He’d never been super great at the whole square thing either. Because he wasn’t one.  Skipped school and everything.  The whole high school experience.  Ha.  
Sometimes he really cracked himself up, but only in the most depressing of ways.  
He sighed, heavily.  Maybe he should think about spending more time in his hideaway cave, under his cottage (aka his shack, it was a shack, who was he kidding).  Stock up on supplies.  Get ready to weather a storm.  Literal or metaphorical.  
But hiding out in the cave was so boring.  There wasn’t anything to do down there. Except try to design better grass shoes and to patch his increasingly ragged clothing with limited amounts of thread. He preferred being outside greatly. Even if it was just on his little floating island, messing around in his little garden, growing potatoes and blood blossoms, digging for those crystals ghosts seemed to fear and desire in equal measure.
Flynn was peripherally aware that he was supplying the ghosts he traded with the equivalent of ghost uranium (one of the few human-world things he’d picked up was a middle school science textbook), but…
Yeah.  Guy had to eat, and the Ghost Zone didn’t exactly have cops running all over the place, or the United Nations, or… yeah.  Honestly, the Ghost Zone didn’t have much of anything, at least not in these parts.  It was pretty empty around here.  
Just like Flynn’s heart.  
Ha.  
Yeah.  That was a good one.  
Eh.  Life wasn’t so bad.  He was sort-of-kind-of friends with half a dozen undead monsters of questionable morality, had his own house, most of his teeth, and copious free time.  Plus, it had been a while since the ‘rocks from nowhere’ decided to trash his roof.  Which was bad for the sport he had invented (Chucking Rocks into the Misty Void), but good for roof integrity.  And not having a concussion.  Or losing any more teeth.  
But, back to his original topic.  
Flynn glared absently at the Zone at large. Okay, yeah, something was going on. Was it Flynn’s problem? Maybe.  Was it directly Flynn’s problem?  No.  The day was otherwise clear and ‘normal’ (the term being used loosely in the Ghost Zone), so he might as well go about his day—
The sky tore open in front of him.  
Flynn recognized that.  Before he knew what he was doing, he threw himself away from the portal. The last time he’d stepped through one of those—
The thought crossed his mind that this portal might lead back to Earth, back home, back to Mom.  But he knew from his ghostly friends how unlikely it was that the portal would put him anywhere near his home physically, not to mention temporally. It might not even lead back to Earth for that matter.  
He took cover behind a boulder, cursing his blasé dismissal of potential danger.  Who knew what could come out of a portal?  At least according to the ghosts he talked to.  Hopefully, nothing came out that he couldn’t beat into submission with his ectoranium staff.  
This was going to suck so much.  
The portal disgorged three floating eyeball ghosts in voluminous robes.
(One of the other books Flynn had gotten his hands on was a dictionary.  Which he had read.  Twice. Living on a tiny floating island was boring when it wasn’t terrifying.)
Ah, heck.  He could take one ghost.  Three? Yeah.  Not a chance.  
Maybe they’d leave?  They couldn’t know for sure he was here.  With how unpredictable portals were, and all.
“Flynn Walker,” intoned the central eyeball ghost with a great deal of gravitas.  
Flynn’s body did something between a cringe and a blanch.  
He was never trusting Globithar the Lapidarist’s tall tales ever again.  He wasn’t going to give him any more discounts for them, either.  No way to control a portal his scarred left butt cheek.  
“Flynn Walker,” repeated the eyeball ghost, now with a touch of annoyance.  
“In accordance with the laws of the Infinite Realms,” said the leftmost ghost, in a higher-pitched voice, “we call you to take up your position in the Court of the King of All Ghosts as a member of his family.”
Ah, that ectocontamination Aunt Maddie had sometimes talked about had finally caught up with him, and he was hallucinating something fierce. Either that, or these ghosts thought unbelievable jokes were good bait.  They weren’t.  Flynn would know.  He’d made many unbelievable jokes.  They’d never attracted anything but groans.  
Ha.  
“This is ridiculous,” hissed the third ghost.  “He isn’t even a real ghost.”
“He’s more ghostly than Phantom’s sister,” said the second.  
“We don’t have any choice about her, though.  Can’t we simply… not tell Phantom about this Flynn? Especially if this cousin of his is so craven as to hide at a moment like this.”
Rude, but accurate.  
“He’ll find out,” said the first eyeball, tiredly. “He always finds out.  Damn Clockwork.”
This was officially too weird for Flynn.  Why were they cursing out clocks?
“Because they’re petty and don’t have anything better to do.”
Flynn may or may not have shrieked like a little girl at the voice behind him.  The uncertainty was mostly because Flynn hadn’t seen or heard a little girl since he was in the vicinity of his cousin, Jazz, which was years ago.  At least a decade.  
But he did scream.  Loudly.  Which he really should know better than to do, living in the Ghost Zone and all.  He brought his staff up defensively, too, though, so his self-preservation skills hadn’t completely shorted out.
“Clockwork!” chorused the eyeball ghosts.  
“Yes, yes,” said the ghost who’d snuck up on Flynn, flicking imaginary dust off his robe as he smoothly, and dizzyingly, shifted between ages.  “I’m sure you’re all very shocked that I’m here, after you just finished complaining about how much I know.”  He examined his fingernails.  “Now, Mr. Walker—”
“Walker?” shrieked one of the eyeballs.  
“Yes, he is related to our illustrious sheriff. As I was saying, I am here to bring you to your cousins, who have risen quite a bit in this world.”
“What.”
“It is, indeed, rather surprising,” said Clockwork. “To those who cannot see the twists and turns of fate.  Or those who are willfully blind to those twists and turns.”  He eyed the eyeballs.  
“What,” repeated Flynn, more forcefully.  
“Clockwork,” growled the lead eyeball.  
“Allow me to explain,” said Clockwork.  “Do you recall your youngest cousin, Daniel?”
“Uh,” said Flynn.  He adjusted his grip on his staff.  “Vaguely?”
“He was crowned King of All Ghosts a few weeks ago. As a member of his family and an active participant in ghost society, you are automatically a member of the court. Assuming you wish to be, of course.”
“You- You’re saying I have family here.”
“Indeed.”
“Like, Aunt Maddie?”
Something odd passed over Clockwork’s face.  “No.  Your cousins. Daniel, specifically.”
“Wait, wait, he was a baby.  Wouldn’t he only be, like, ten or something?”
“Fifteen,” corrected Clockwork.  
“How did he die?”
“You will have to ask him that,” said Clockwork.  He raised an eyebrow.  “If you would like, you can sleep on this and I will return tomorrow.”
Flynn bit his lip.  Hard.  Okay. He wasn’t dreaming.  And- And this ghost didn’t seem to be lying. What would the point of that even be, anyway?  Flynn was nothing.  He didn’t have anything they could possibly gain by lying like this.  
“I’ll go with you,” said Flynn.  
“Excellent,” said Clockwork, clapping his hands.  “Then let us away to the castle.”
.
Well.  That was certainly a castle.  Or a palace? Flynn wasn’t sure of the difference. The ghosts hadn’t lied about that, at least.  
It was a big step up from Flynn’s house.  Which, honestly, more deserved the title of hovel. Or perhaps shack.  
Or even hole, when compared to all this.  Dear god, this place was fancy.  
Flynn hunched his shoulders, feeling out of place even as Clockwork led him deeper into the massive edifice.  
Come on, Flynn, he thought furiously at himself. Some of these people aren’t even wearing skin.  You are not underdressed.  
Clockwork brought him to a normally sized (which was, incidentally, not a given in this place, which contained both huge and tiny doors) door with understated but elegant carvings.  “Here are your rooms,” said the ghost.  “You will find a selection of clothing in your size in the wardrobe, and the bathroom is fully stocked and human safe.”
“Human safe?”
“Human safe.”
That was ominous.  
“There is a bell in the room that will summon a servant should you need one.  I will collect you for dinner in three hours.  Long enough for you to relax, I should hope.”
Or long enough for him to worry himself into pieces and chew on their curtains.  
… There would be curtains, right?  This place had to be fancy enough to rate curtains.  
He opened the door.  
Lots of curtains.  Lovely.
No, really.  It had been so, so long since he’d seen curtains.  He might be crying.  
Oh, gosh, that bed looked so nice and soft.  He wanted to—
Wait, no, he was filthy.  Filthy.  Covered in years’ worth of grime.  He hadn’t had a proper bath since he’d still been living with his mom.  
Pathetic, right?
There was a human-safe bathroom in here somewhere. Beyond the snark, he was looking forward to having a human-safe bath.  He was craving a human-safe bath.  With clean water and soap.  
Could the bathroom also have toothbrushes?  Toothpaste?  Unrestrained luxury.  
The bathroom door was in the same style as the outer door, but the handle was different, lighter.  The inside was tiled and surprisingly modern.  
There was a sink.  
He played with the sink faucet for several long minutes before remembering that he’d come in to take a bath.  
He spent several minutes playing with the bathtub faucet.  
Then he got into the bathtub and experienced a half hour of combined panic (he didn’t really know how baths worked anymore, and the sensations were weird) and nirvana (the sensations were also good).
He had to keep cycling the water.  Because he made it so, so dirty.  He sank into the water, up to his chin.  
When he got out of the water, he decided his hair was a lost cause.  Because it was always a lost cause.  Only, it was even more of a lost cause now, because it was also wet and had been stripped of its usual protective layer of oils.  
There was a variety of toothbrushes and toothpastes available.  He tested them out and discovered that he would probably need the services of a dentist. A good one.  Were there ghost dentists?  There had to be ghost dentists.  They had a lot of teeth.  A lot of teeth.  Sharp, scary, teeth.  
Ugh.  His baby cousin was a ghost.  He’d probably have teeth like a shark.  When he’d last seen him, he’d hardly even had any teeth at all.  Because.  Baby. Little, tiny, baby.  
Who Flynn barely knew.  
Why did he even want Flynn?  Or was it just some weird ghost tradition thing?  
Ghosts were weird.  Anything could be possible.  
He flopped face-first onto the bed.  His bed?  His temporary and maybe permanent bed.  If he was allowed to stay here.  
Oh, gosh.  Clockwork and the eyeballs seemed to know how to make portals.  Could they make a portal back to the human world? To Earth?  
To Flynn’s proper time?
To Mom?  
He missed Mom so much, even after all this time.  
(Dad?  Not so much. He hardly remembered the man.)
He wouldn’t know until he asked, he supposed.  But asking maybe-royalty would be scary. Talking to all these powerful ghosts was scary enough by itself.  
Ehhhh, he thought he’d gotten rid of his more cowardly side by now.  He was living in the scariest place out of the world.  
Ha.  
Yeah.  
He crawled out of the bed, dragging his nice, clean self to the wardrobe.  Oh, boy. Many clothes.  He hadn’t even seen so many clothes since the last time he’d been in department store.  Incredible.  
They were so fancy, too.  He didn’t know how to choose.  
He didn’t even know how to wear half of these things. At least half of them.  
He began to tease lengths of fabric from the wardrobe and lay them on his bed.  Some of them looked cool.  And also the kind of thing that he’d destroy just by touching it.  
Except he had already touched them, and they hadn’t been destroyed yet.  Yet.
Oh, cool, there was underwear.  Wow.  It had been a while.  
.
Okay.  The bed was incredibly nice, but somehow too nice.  Like, no nap nice.  
He wanted to take a nap.  
But no nap was occurring.  
The bed was too soft.  Ugh.  This was like the thing in that one war novel he’d read when he was probably way too young to read it.  
He groaned.  He hadn’t thought that was real.  He’d thought it was an exaggeration, or just drama.  Or something.  
He crawled off onto the floor and the wonderfully plush carpet.  
Maybe he could sleep here.  
.
He woke up to a faint knocking sound and rolled sideways under cover.  What cover? Oh.  Bed.  That was the bed.  He was in the room.  In the castle.  The ghost king’s castle.  
His baby cousin’s castle.  
He was going to cry.  This was so weird.  
Embarrassed, he rolled back out from under the bed and threw on the first clothes that came to hand.  Which.  Might not have been the best of ideas.  But, hey, he was dressed now.  
He stumbled over to the door and spent several long, embarrassing seconds sleepily remembering how to open doors with this type of handle.  Eventually, though, he managed it.
Clockwork was standing there.  One of his eyebrows went up.  “Interesting choice.”
Flynn looked down.  Orange and green went fine together.  What was he talking about?  
Forget it, he wasn’t about to develop a sense of social shame after living in a hut for a decade or so.  
“Come, now.  Your cousins are expecting you.”
Flynn briefly considered ducking out, phasing through the floor and out of the castle using a tangibility trick he’d picked up a couple of years back.  At least, that would spare him from this ‘diner’ he was rapidly approaching.  
He decided not to do that.  Running away wasn’t his style.  
(Who was he kidding?  That was definitely his style.  He would have run away so, so much if he had anywhere to run to.)
(It wasn’t like he could exactly fight ghosts on even footing.  Each and every one of them had Martian Manhunter’s powerset.)
“Don’t be afraid, Flynn,” said Clockwork, looking back over his shoulder.  
“Do you, like, read minds?”
Clockwork chuckled.  “Only the future.”  He swung the large, gilded door open.  
Inside, there was a long table, set with silvery plates.  There were a small group of children beyond it.  One of them waved at him.  Was that Danny?
Flynn took a deep breath and walked forward, back to his family.  
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justkending · 3 years
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The Number One Rule. Chapter 15.
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Summary: Y/N has always been seen as “Steve’s rambunctious sister.” However, she grew up, graduated, and moved to London to study abroad for 4 years and get her bachelor's degree. The girl that returns looks nothing like the teenager that left, but don’t worry the attitude is still there and stronger than ever. What’s to come of the two grown adults that used to push each other's buttons, but now have a lot more in common than they’ve ever realized.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N Rogers (Steve’s little sister)
Word Count: 3100+
A/N: Ladies and gentleman. This is in one of my top 3 chapters I’ve written in this series. The next one being my number 1;) I hope you enjoy and I would love any and all feedback you are willing to share!! xoxoxo
Chapter Fifteen:
Eventually when Bucky had snapped out of his thoughts, Y/N had long fallen asleep on him. He smiled down at her with a sad smile. One filled with remorse for everything she had gone through, but pride in how she handled it and didn’t let it destroy her. At least not to the extent that a lot of people get into.
She had years to do that, whereas Bucky was fresh on the subject. It would take him time to move on from that for her. He couldn’t help but feel hate for himself knowing exactly what party she was talking about. 
It was one of the few he and Steve didn’t attend. They had planned on it, but Dot wanted a quiet night in, and Steve just didn’t feel like it or something. It had been a while since that party, so he didn’t remember intricate details. 7 years to be exact. And the only reason he could guess which one it was, was because of how she acted after it. A whole month of depression and guilt she sat with and it showed. For the last 7 years Y/N had carried that with her. The only person she trusted to tell to this day was Beck. Now he was the other. 
He gathered her up in his arms, and she drowsily threw her own over his shoulders and hung on in a sleepy daze as he brought her up the stairs. He laid her in her bed, turned on her fan, and tucked her in. 
But as he stood to go back downstairs, her hand clasped around his. 
“Where y’ going?” she asked. The wine was playing a big part in the sleepiness and he could tell by her weak squeeze to his hand. 
“I’m just going to clean up downstairs. I’ll be back up in a second, sweetheart,” she nodded before giving him another squeeze to his hand and pulling the bed covers up to her cheeks. He smiled at her cute self and bent down kissing her forehead. He moved the strands of hair they fell over her eyes and studied her for a second. 
Eventually, he pulled away and went to do what he said. Popcorn kernels trashed and bowls cleaned. Leftover wine in the fridge and beer bottles recycled. He folded the blankets on the couch and set the pillows back in their original arrangement. Lastly, he went and checked to make sure all the doors were locked for the night. He had spent the night there enough to do a lock up without issues. 
Coming back upstairs, he changed into his own pajamas and snuck into the other side of the bed. Careful not to wake her, he gently and ever so softly, pulled her back to him. In her sleep, she turned to where they were face to face. Curling into his chest in comfort, trying to get as close as she could. 
He couldn’t hold in the chuckle that rumbled through his chest as she nuzzled under his chin. He ran his hand up and down her back and noticed her body relaxing with each stroke. He was glad he had that effect on her. It was the least he could offer after not being there for her in those hard times.
Now when he held her, he wasn’t just protecting her, but also trying to shield her from any more pain. He had been doing that his whole life for the family that the Roger’s had become to him. But now was different. This was a different kind of defense. This wasn’t just family protection. This was protection for someone you love. 
________________
The next morning, Y/N was the first to wake. She found herself practically embedded in Bucky’s arms. He had wrapped his giant self around her waist pulling her in close to his body. 
They had cuddled before, and even had a few sleepovers when Steve wasn’t in town, or if Becca wasn’t going to be home for the night and lent them her space. But it was only enough to count on one hand. That, plus, it never escalated to anything other than cuddling and maybe a makeout session here and there. 
Bucky had been gentle and patient in that area. Even if they hadn’t had that talk yet at that point, he didn’t push. Something she wasn’t used to in most of the guys she had dated. Pietro probably being the only other one that was understanding of it. 
Even if they had been dating a little over a month, she was glad they were taking it slow. Even if they had known each other their whole lifes. 
She somehow was able to turn in his arms and see a soft smile on his lips. He wasn’t awake, so he must have been dreaming of something nice. She took a second just breathing him in and trying to wrap her head around how all this came to be. 
Sure she had crushes on him growing up. I mean who doesn’t form a crush for your older brother's hot best friend. Though if she was being honest, she had always thought deep down that it was never a card that would be played in this game of life. 
Little did they know, it would just take time and growth. Then the fates would do with them what they will. Most card games were just a game of chance. You never know what’s going to come around the corner...
Eventually, she pulled herself away ever so gently and quietly to escape downstairs and make breakfast. She was still in her sleep shorts, but at some point took off her sweatshirt in the night from almost overheating. That plus the surprisingly excessive amount of body heat Bucky gave off made it hard to sleep with it on. 
She found a new one laying over her chair in the corner and threw it on before grabbing a hair tie and brushing her bed head up into a bun. 
Tiptoeing to the door, she slowly closed it leaving it open just a crack. 
Just as she took a step on the stairs, she heard the front door unlock and open. Freezing in her spot she waited a second. The only person who had a key besides their mom and her was…
“Hey, sis,” Steve said coming around the corner seeing her at the top of the stairs. 
“S-Steve,” she said in almost a whisper. Panic. Fear. Dread hit her at full force.“What, um, what are you doing here?”
“It’s Saturday and mom’s out of town, and I knew you were home alone. I thought I’d come over and we can go get breakfast or something,” he said with a sweet innocent smile. 
Running down the stairs a little quicker, she met him at the bottom. 
“Um, why didn’t you call? I would have gotten ready. I just woke up,” her voice was filled with anxiety and Steve noticed. 
“I thought I’d surprise you,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “You ok? You seem off?”
“Um, no. I’m fine. I just got a text from work that one of the projects they had me on needs to be done sooner than I expected.” How she came up with that lie on the spot like that? She had no idea, but she ran with it. “Yeah, not the best thing to wake up too. Making me a little nervous.”
“Oh, well do you want to go get breakfast and we can talk about it? I’ve barely heard about anything with your new job. We need to catch up, Mini,” he said, poking her stomach and making her let out a loud laugh, having always been super ticklish. 
Just seconds after that, having heard voices and a loud almost shout, Bucky swug open the door and peered down the stairway where they were both at the bottom. 
Two seconds. 
Two seconds was all it took for Steve to put two and two together in his head. Bucky acting weird lately. Sneaking off randomly and never telling Steve anything, which wasn’t like him in their friendship. Hell, he had even noticed Bucky’s lingering looks, but always put in the back of his mind thinking nothing of it. 
But now. Oh, he was thinking about something now. 
Bucky was frozen at the top of the stairs, eyes locked with Steve. To make matters worse, he only had pajama pants on and no shirt.
Even from the distance of the stairwell, Bucky could see the storm brewing in the blue eyes of his best friend. 
“Steve,” Y/N started placing a hand on his arm. 
The blonde immediately ripped away from her as he turned to fully face Bucky. The alpha male, big brother, pissed off best friend was in a stance ready to fight. 
“Why the FUCK did you just come out of my sister’s room half fucking naked?” Steve growled.
“Steve, you don’t know the full story,” Y/N said softly, but she could sense the tension and for once in her life, she was slightly scared to enter the fight. 
“The fuck I don’t know the full story,” Steve said finally whipping his head back to Y/N. His blue eyes were carrying a category 5 hurricane in those ocean blues. But they didn’t stay on her long as he turned back to Bucky. 
“Listen,” Bucky said, coming down slowly. 
“I don’t know if I want to,” he responded through his teeth. “Take one more step down here, and you’re going to need some serious dental work and a nose job.”
Bucky froze about 4-5 steps away from the siblings. Finally, he looked at Y/N, worry in his eyes, but they were also apologetic. 
Y/N immediately moved around Steve and stood between the two. Closer to Steve to try and hold him back if she needed to. 
“Now wait a damn minute,” she spoke up looking straight at her older brother even if he was sending a death glare past her shoulder. “You need to calm down before we talk-”
“No. You need to go to your room. Bucky and I need to talk,” he said in an authoritative voice. 
“Excuse me?” she retorted back. Her gentleness in the situation was fading and being replaced with aggravation. “Go to my room? Am I a 13 year old girl?” she said stepping in his eyeline so he was looking at her. 
“This isn’t a fucking joke, Y/N!” He shouted. “Go to your room!”
“No,” she replied, folding her arms across her chest. 
The two had this kind staring contest all the time growing up. Anytime there was a fight, they almost never relented with their stubborn asses. Their mom or dad had to send them to their rooms themselves and kept them there. The time ranging from 20 minutes to 5 hours before they calmed down. 
They were two of the most headstrong ornery people to live in this world. And it didn’t help that they were now pitted against each other. This kind of fight looked as if it could be ranging more into weeks or months. 
Knowing and experiencing situations like this with them before, Bucky spoke up again. 
“Y/N, you should listen to him. We need to talk,” he said sedately. 
“I leave and he’s going to beat your ass,” Y/N said, still staring at her brother. 
“I think he’s going to beat my ass either way,” Bucky mumbled. “Really Y/N. Just give us a second.”
“I’m a part of this equation too,” she said. Her tone easing just enough to be noticed. 
“Yes, you are. But right now, Steve and I need to talk first,” he said trying his best to defuse the fire against the heated situation happening in the entryway of their house. 
There were a few more seconds of silence as they glared at the other. 
“Fine, but I’m coming back down in 10 minutes,” she bartered. 
No one responded as she started to go up the stairs backwards. The staredown did not cease until she was even with Bucky on the steps. 
“If he does anything stupid, I’m going to beat his ass,” she said looking at Bucky. 
“I’m sure you will,” he said with a small smile that was forced for reassurance. 
She placed a hand on his shoulder. A silent good luck as they studied the other in a quick second. 
Turning back to look at Steve, she saw he was still in a rigid stance. The tension in his shoulders doing nothing but grow with every passing second. She would’ve sent him one more warning glare if he was looking, but his eyes were trained on Bucky with a look that could kill. 
Eventually she went into her room and shut her door, leaving it open just a crack. They deserved their privacy no matter how bad she wanted to step in. Deep down she knew, as best friends, they needed to talk on their own. 
Bucky looked back down and saw a bull looking at him like he was a red cape.
“Outside. Now,” Steve commanded before stomping off to the back and letting the screen door slam harshly. 
Letting out a long sigh and running a hand down his face, he finally went down the stairs. He grabbed a shirt from the bag he had left down there and headed to the backyard. Steve already in the grass pacing. 
“Steve,” Bucky said softly as he walked down the porch steps barefoot. 
Instantly, a fist collided with his face. He stumbled trying his best to not fall from the impact. When he looked up, grasping his jaw, he sent a glare to Steve. 
“I’m not saying I don’t deserve that, but-”
“Oh, you deserve a lot more than that, but I need you to explain what the HELL I just walked into and you can’t do that with no teeth,” Steve glowered. 
Looking at him while straightening his posture he wiggled his jaw some feeling just a tad bit of blood on his lip. Damn him for teaching Steve how to make a proper swing like that. 
“You gonna punch me again before I talk, or can I fucking explain myself now?” No response, only a stare was given. “Ok, so I’ve been hiding something from you.” Steve raised an eyebrow. 
“You think?”
“Listen, I’m almost as taken aback as you. One day, she’s like a little sister running around with my actual sister, and the next she's a mature grown adult who knows what she wants, exudes confidence, and is intelligent beyond measure.” He paused before adding. “Not that we didn’t know that.”
“I know what my sister is. What I want to know is why you’re sleeping with her?” Steve said, taking a step closer. 
Bucky just straightened up more as if expecting another hit. But then he processed Steve’s sentence. 
“Sleeping with her?” he questioned almost in shock. Steve not breaking his gaze. “I’m not fucking sleeping with her, asshole! I’m dating her.”
The smallest amount of tension released from Steve’s body and his face wasn’t frowning as much.
“You’re dating?” 
“Yes. Dating.”
“So you guys haven’t-”
“No. I’m a little upset that you think that low of me,” Bucky scoffed. “You think I would really just start booty calling my best friend's sister? If I wanted a friend with benefits, I can easily find a girl at a bar,” he said, taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair. “You’re sister isn’t a girl from a bar, Steve.”
Steve was silent processing it. He still wasn’t happy, but at least it wasn’t as bad as had thought. 
“Listen, Y/N’s been in my life just as long as she has been in yours. We’ve grown up together, created childhood memories together, picked on each other, and protected each other. She would be the last person on this earth I would want to degrade to a one night stand. She deserves so much more than that.”
“Exactly,” Steve said. 
Bucky paused taking note of Steve’s tone. “Exactly? Why do you say it like that?”  
“I mean she deserves a lot,” he said, confirming Buck’s thought. 
“I see. So I don’t make the cut?” Bucky said, now getting frustrated. The silence was enough of an answer to his question. “Wow. 26 years of being best friends and you think that little of me?”
“She’s my sister,” Steve answered. A slight tone of apology behind his words, but he kept the stoic face. 
“Yes, Steve she is! And 2+2= 4! We know this!” he said waving his arms and scoffing as he turned in his spot before turning back. Hands on his hips before one came up and ran a hand through his slight beard. 
“You know what? Screw this. I’m not going to sit here and be that guy that says, ‘Yeah, you’re right. She doesn’t deserve me. I’m not good enough for her.’ You know why, Steve? Because I know that. And it’s because I know that, that I’m going to strive with every muscle in my body and every might of my being to make sure I can be that for her one day. To make sure I can give her everything and more that she deserves. To make sure she never has to see a sad day again. To make sure she only experiences joy if I have any say. To make absolutely sure that no one ever hurts her. Why? Because I love her!”
Out of breath, Bucky chest heaving up and down showed how hard his lungs were working to get air back in them. 
Steve’s posture had almost gone back to normal. The anger no longer there. Whatever emotion he was feeling, Bucky couldn’t tell. 
“How long?” Steve asked. 
“What?” Bucky asked, confused. 
“How long have you loved her?” he repeated, looking down at the ground. 
Bucky paused. He couldn’t actually answer that. There was no specific time frame. Truth was he had loved her for a while. 
“Honestly, longer than I know... It’s just taken me this long to figure out that’s what this feeling was.”
Steve nodded his head as he put his hands in his pockets and continued to stare at the dirt by his feet. 
“Ok.”
Taken aback, Bucky's eyes widened. 
“Ok?” 
“Yeah. Ok,” Steve repeated before he started walking to the back fence that led to the driveway. 
“Wait. You’re just going to leave it at 'Ok,’ and walk away?” Bucky rushed over to stop him. 
Steve slowly turned from staring at the ground and then back at him. 
“You know, I thought that we were close enough that you could come to me with this kind of thing. That you wouldn’t feel like you had to hide it from me. Y/N and you both,” he said with pursed lips. “Guess I was wrong.” 
With that he turned back and walked to his car. Bucky watched as he started the engine, pulled out, and disappeared. 
What the hell kind of mess just happened?
(Tags for this series will be closing soon as it is getting pretty full, please send an ask if you want to be added:)
I’ll post on whatever chapter I decided to close it down here.
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scriptaed · 3 years
Text
his side, her side finale | 00:00
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genre: angst/fluff/implied smut; 
pairing: reader x jungkook;
length: 4.6k;
synopsis: a collective snapshots in time shared between two, whose fates were undeniably intertwined and futures would never come to be.
No matter how infinite the pages could write itself, in the way that he catches her stealing glances from across the room or the scalding spark imprinted on her hand by the touch of his own, there really are only three versions to every story: his side, her side, and the truth’s side; and in your unsolicited albeit self-justified defense, the truth is, what was once seemingly perpetual is now merely trivial. The imagery that once had you kicking and screaming into your sheets at night, the fleeting moments that were shared by both but valued by one, and the inevitably incessant burden of jealousy brought upon by a fervent want that could never be had could only have been falsified by a break—spatially, temporally, and heartfully. The mind can only tug so much at one’s strings; and yet, to be bent, only time could prove possible.
...and that time is exactly what is needed by all.
her side;
“Are you joining us for dinner tonight, Y/N?” 
“Huh? What?” your ears perk at the sound of your friend’s call. 
“Oh, there she goes again,” your other friend interjects with the roll of her eyes. You almost collapse when she swings a hand over your shoulder. “Are you sure you don’t want to get your ears checked?”
“No, but I might have to get my eyes checked,” you joke, despite pulling in all the performance points you could win with a disdainful scan up and down her less than professional attire. Thankfully, your act is gleefully extended by her cheesy gawk of an expression. Putting up a merciful pair of hands in the air, you laugh, “hey, in all seriousness, it’s not my fault you guys keep drooling over boys.”
“Uhuh, so you’re trying to tell us that boy talk is what’s putting you to sleep?” your friend’s accomplice crosses her arms, raising an accusatory pair of brows. 
“Yeah,” you say much too seriously so you throw in an airy laugh, “I mean, there’s more to life than boys, y’know?”
“Right, like…?”
“Like…” your voice trails off because, for some reason, your mind goes blank as you attempt to recall your lifestyle from your previous hometown. “Like… hanging out with friends! With you guys!”
“Gah! You’re only able to say that because you have dozens of boys chasing you around the office. Us, on the other hand, time just… it just keeps ticking…” the two of them sigh in synchronization and you feel the heat of her arms retract as she shakes the hand of her one and only sympathizer. 
“Psh,” you can’t help but grin throughout the frown elicited by their vivacious performance, “you guys have plenty of time. Just enjoy life for now and I’m sure you’ll find someone along the way.” 
“Wait, but seriously,” her voice suddenly rises from her previously sullen state, as does her head on her friend’s shoulder. She looks you dead in the eye, and, honestly, you almost feel as though your privacy had just been invaded. “You really haven’t ever liked anyone before?” 
“Uh…” you scatter through the disarrayed files that were your buried memories, eyes squinting at the sun that peeks through the clearing sky after a day full of rainfall. “Elementary and middle school don’t really count… too busy studying in high school… college was full of fuck boys I couldn’t care less for… and at work…”
The more that you hear yourself ramble, the more the reality of your lonesome future settles into the already burdened shoulders of yours.
“At work? You mean here? Or do you mean your last job?”
“Well,” you frown, trying to recall every male colleague that had piqued even the tiniest of interest in you; and as the two of your friends lean in, you start to lean back, despite the charging light bulb that flickers from the unlocked recollection of two years ago. “There was a guy who liked me and told everyone at work that he liked me, which I thought was really weird… nice guy, kind of a nerd, but I didn’t like him that way. Who else? Uh, hm—”
—bzzz. 
The vibration against your back pocket pulls the plug from your train of thought. 
“Aw man,” you hear your friends curse in the background, “just when we were finally getting her to spill something.” 
The name on your screen has your heart skipping with delight.
 Yezi [5:20 PM] Hey, I know you’re gonna forget, so you before you do, we’re having dinner together tonight :) 
“It’s okay,” your friend pats the back of the other, “there’ll be some cute enough boys for her at tonight’s barbeque, I’m sure.”
“Ah shit,” you curse under your breath, hastily typing a response before peering up at your friends like a deer caught in the headlights, “actually, guys, turns out I already made plans with my friend from home. I’m sooo sorry.”
“Oh, really?” the two of them gasp. “Isn’t that a two hour train ride from here?” 
“Yeah, so I really got to go now,” your phone tumbles into your bag as you begin to widen your strides like a woman on a mission. 
They shake their heads in unison, “no, no, it’s okay!”
“I’m seriously so sorry guys,” you say as you pant, the distance between you and your friends widening by the second and forcing you to whirl around as you pace backwards. “I’ll make it up to you next time and do whatever you guys want, okay?”
“Really? Anything?”
“Yeah,” your hands draw a wide, inclusive circle into the air, “anything.” 
“Even a blind date?” 
“You know what? Why the hell not?” you chime, whirling back around with your back on them and a smile hidden away. Skipping off into the opposite direction toward the train station, you exclaim nonchalantly, “new year, new me!”
Lately, either through a stroke of luck or a reset of a life in a new town, there’s been something spectacularly whimsical about tonight’s air; and when a zephyr passes by, lifting you to the tip of your toes to an invincible high and relaying the confuzzled whispers of your friends—
“—wait, it’s not a new year, it’s already April—”
—you finally acquire a two year long-sought sensation: golden.
-
“I can’t believe you almost forgot about our plans!” 
“Hey, I had a reminder set on my phone just ten minutes after your reminder” you quip with pursed lips, “and I still made it on time, didn’t I?”
“Yeah,” Yezi prims with a stern look plastered across her face, gesturing, “with your hair and clothes damp in rain and your face smiling like a wagging, clueless beagle.”
“Well… beagles are cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment?” 
She frowns, ignoring your remark, “did you not check the weather forecast?”
“I did.”
“So why didn’t you bring an umbrella?”
“I forgot.”
“Ugh, you forget everything these days,” she plants a palm to her forehead before returning to her plate, “well, I’m glad that at least you’re so carefree nowadays. You’ve finally settled into your new workplace, huh? You look so happy now.”
“You talk—” it’s difficult to speak with food being stuffed into your mouth “—as if I lost a loved one.”
“Well,” she grits her teeth, as if biting her tongue, and proceeds to slice the slab of steak, “I wouldn’t say that’s too farfetched.” 
Frowning, your words come out muffled through puffed cheeks, “whaddya mean by dat?”
“You can’t tell me you forgot about what happened last time you were in town.”
“Uh…?” you furrow your brows, tracing into a forgotten yet familiar field you had long neglected for your own wellbeing. Last time you were in town, last time you were working here, last time you went out on a company party, last time you walked through this town’s treacherously embracing frosty breeze, last time you were dining here, last time you got wasted, not just here but anywhere, last time you shed tears… all the last times of this town shared only one similarity, a similarity you had subconsciously left behind at some point in your transition between the past and the now. 
“Do I really have to say it myself?” she leans in, concerned. “I don’t want you bawling your eyes out again…”
Did she possibly mean… him?
“Jeon Jungkook,” she blurts, “there! I said it!”
Her utensils clatter onto her plate as she tosses her hands in the air in mercy, almost as if bracing herself for the storm after the calm, observing you intently but warily; that supposed storm, however and ever so fortunately, never arrives. 
“Oh,” you utter, words slipping from your lips like sand through a palm, “I’m not crying.”
“You’re not crying,” she confirms, astonished. 
“It doesn’t… hurt anymore?” you almost ask yourself. 
“It doesn’t?”
“It doesn’t,” you utter, shaking your head. Just as she’s caught off guard, you lurch across the table to pinch her cheeks, “but that doesn’t mean I appreciate you bringing him up during a perfectly lovely night!” 
“Sho—” she furrows her brows in combination to her squished cheeks “—he doesh make you shad shtill?”
“Well, he doesn’t make me elated,” you finally release her from your wrath, returning to stare downward at your food, “but I guess it makes me reflect fondly on the past. It’s kind of like a scar. I know how much it once hurt but I can’t feel it to the same magnitude anymore. Actually, instead, the happy, jittery moments are more vivid to me than the tears that were shed. Is that… odd?”
“Like… like what? Examples?” 
Like when his arm bumped into yours for the first time on the walk after work, like when he discretely went out of his way to ensure your safety across the bridge home, like when he enamored over the ‘ripped abs’ of a fully nude female character design of an upcoming project whilst you stood awkwardly with a set of breasts in full display for the two of you, like when the two of you escaped to become the aloof, static noise of an unbefitting party, or like when he held you in his hands and kissed you at the stroke of midnight, the butterflies live on—even today—to shield you from the dampened blows struck by dull weapons of jealousy, insecurity, and remorse. 
With time, the silver lining finally showed itself like a sun shining through after a stormy night. You’ve finally accepted the truths behind every weapon. She was pretty. They were pretty. She never wronged you. They never wronged you. They deserved his love. His heart belonged to whomever he desired. 
He never badmouthed his peers and, as blunt of a man as he was, he never pointed out your flaws, even if that meant you would later return home only to find mascara flakes on your cheeks. He treated women like a gentleman, as contradictory as it may seem from his appetite demeanor; and while you fell for him for that, you also cursed him for that very reason. He didn’t owe you anything… up to a certain point until the lines were too blurred to decipher between the truth, the deserved, and the faulty. Be it Ji-eun or Jennie, you’ve come to terms with his relationships. 
As much as your relations with him seemed to run on a fragile thread of fate, your time had run out and the window of opportunity had been shut—but hey, at least you had fun.
“Are you… smiling?”
“Hm?” you look up to find her staring at you in concern. Blinking blankly, you quickly clear your throat and retract the smile you had subconsciously adorned. “I am?”
“I… don’t know if I should be worried or not,” Yezi downs another glass of iced water and you’re about to follow suit until she almost chokes on her water, “hey—isn’t that Jennie over there?” 
“Jennie?”
You almost curse at Yezi for teasing you over bygones that should’ve been left as just that, but she really wasn’t lying. You can’t believe your eyes when you whirl your head around to look through the darkened tint of the restaurant’s window panes. You might have never really spoken to Jennie, but that figure is undeniably Jennie. 
“What is she doing?” you squint, struggling to grasp a clear vision of her silhouette under the dim, orange street light beside her. You could only catch a hint of her side profile but those cheeks and unique sense of fashion definitely belonged to her; on the other hand, the constant stumbling and the hand to her head, almost as if she’s about to collapse at any second, did not resemble her. “Oh, oh, hold on, wait, whoa—we should help her!” 
You scramble to your feet and bolt out the door whilst Yezi takes care of your abrupt leave with the restaurant staff. A freezing blast of wind welcomes you as soon as you step into the sidewalk but you waste no time. Abandoning the cold behind you along with the past, your mind is set on aiding the collapsed woman on the streets. 
“Hey! Jennie, hey!” you call out to her as you sprint to her side, dropping to the floor without caring to notice the shards of glass that consequently cut your knees as you carefully roll her limp body onto its back and away from the sharp hazards. The pain has you wincing and seething under your breath, but the conditions of the person lying before you has you even more concerned. Her skin is even paler than usual. Her chest rises and falls rapidly in an evident struggle. Your taps against her shoulder gradually become frantic shakes until all you can hear is your voice and the whispering commotion of bystanders behind you. “Jennie! Can you hear me?!” 
“Y/N!” you turn around to find Yezi peering down at you from above. “What happened?”
“I don’t know but something’s definitely not right,” you say as calmly as you could, “call 911. I’ll call her family.”
“Got it,” Yezi nods, immediately dialing the numbers on her phone but pausing in the midst of the ring to face you, “wait, do you know anyone from her family?”
Gritting your teeth, you frown as you dig into your memories, “...no, I know she might have had a boyfriend back then, so he might know, but I don’t know if they’re still together and I don’t even know his number…”
“Do you know anyone who might know her boyfriend then?” 
“Well…” 
The ending trails of your voice are whisked away into the returning wind of that fateful night. Hands gripping at your phone and eyes staring at the stranger yet familiarity of a name that glares off the screen, it’s an inevitable force that has you stupefied yet marveled at the revival of a tugging string that ties you to him through the strangest, most meandering paths. 
-
his side;
It was almost like a fever dream. Her name plastered across his screen and his eyes squinting through the glaring light that illuminates his room. It had been two years since he had any contact nor mention of her; and now, out of the blue, in the midst of a nap after gym session, she calls him for help. He couldn’t believe his ears when he first heard her voice, believing it all to be another one of those numerous dreams that had him regretting his past or questioning his choices. He shot straight up in bed, phone grasped and glued to his ears that blocked out the computer fan that ran in the background. 
Even now, after throwing on a sweater and jacket and bolting out the door in a state of rescue, he can’t quite believe his eyes; because there she sits on the hospital bench, in the signature slumped boyish manner and the confused blank stare off into the distance that still has him quirking a smile in remembrance every once in a while. In her favorite white blouse and her only slack of black dress pants, it’s almost as if nothing had changed, almost as if she had never left. 
It’s almost like time had bent to his incessantly subconscious pleas and reversed its works; but the almost will always be an almost, for as long as those hallmark vivacious eyes and those rekindled mien of ambition lives. As far as Jungkook knew, she left with a dreary heart and returned with a fiery purpose. 
Despite all that, he can’t help but notice the way she fidgets in her seat, nearly sinking and avoiding all contact the second his presence had been noticed. Instead of the sheepish flickering stolen glances of the past, he finds himself at odds with the way she fights to return the locked gaze of his eyes. She fought so hard that she might have forgotten how to speak, rendering a soft chuckle from his lips because the girl he endlessly dreamt of might still live after all; and for the first time in a long while, Jungkook has to put forth the effort to fill in the silence. 
“Why did you call me?” he asks plainly as he stands before her.
“Well, I didn’t know any of her friends except you…” he watches as she fidgets with her hands, gaze falling to the floor before returning to him, “are you going to visit her? I think the doctor should be okay with it if you’re her close friend.”
“No, Kai will be here soon,” he explains, finally bending down and placing the bottle of rubbing alcohol beside her on the bench. “I have other shit to attend to.”
“Oh, right,” she mumbles. The evident surge in annoyance amuses him that he just can’t quite wipe the smirk off his face. Turning her head, she continues, “you must’ve had plans with Ji-eun tonight. Sorry for the trouble.”
This is it. This is the moment that replayed on repeat like a broken tape in his dreams. This is his chance to mend the wounds he had inflicted upon the confessing girl who cried her eyes out on the cab home that one, indelible night. 
An uncomfortable silence fills the air with the exception of the unscrewing of a plastic bottle and the gentle return of the bottle against the metallic bench, which is then followed by another staggering silence. 
“We’re not that close and I’m not dating Ji-eun now.” 
The girl turns with the quirk of a brow, especially when she spots him kneeling before her with a soaked cotton ball. “W-Wait what? Wait, shit, ow.”
“I don’t talk to Jennie as much as you think,” he states as a-matter-of-factly and continues to gently pat the cotton against the wounds on her knees. After hesitantly placing a band aid over the wound—something he had never done for anyone else nor for himself who just “sucked it up”—he finally lifts his gaze to interlock with hers, observing intently as if to soak the reality of it all in now before the inevitable tape begins to replay for the near future. “I broke up with Ji-eun before you left.” 
“And...” she utters slowly, “why are you telling me this?” 
Just like in the pool on that one night, her challenging eyes never budge and neither do his.
“I thought the past you would’ve liked to know,” he states. Head tilting to the side as if to get a better look, he remarks, “shit, you don’t look away anymore, huh?”
“Why would I?” she quips, snorting and finally breaking contact to stare off to the side. “It didn’t matter if I knew or not. It’s not like we were a thing.”
“Really?” Jungkook hums, gathering the scraps of cotton and paper before standing to his feet with a genuine soft sigh. It’s hard to brush off the two year old sinking sensation in his chest for something so nonchalant, but he manages to do it like he always does with that stoic look on his unreadable face. “Cause I thought we were.” 
“What?” she gapes and he only gazes firmly back at her. “Why? It’s not like I… liked you.”
“Really?” Jungkook’s eyes flicker up at the ceiling for a brief second, lips pursing as he concludes the cards on the table: the unapologetic albeit risky truth or the defensive albeit purposeless self-deception. Unbeknownst to her, Jungkook had all the cards in his hands. 
“Yeah,” she mumbles, avoiding his gaze and shrugging, “and it’s not like you liked me.” 
Peering down at her from above, the boy’s crooked grin gradually settles into the silence along with the usual unreadable mien that he wears on the daily. “How would you know?”
Finally turning to return his gaze, she raises a brow at him before uncrossing her arms and standing to her feet. One step, two steps until she stands before him as close as she could recall on that night, she utters the one mutual truth of the night. 
“Because you never told me.”
The brief silence filled with tension seems to last an eternity, yet neither of the two could take their eyes off the other. A rush of thrill intermixed with panic floods his blood. His fight or flight system screams at him to obey the very laws he had followed all these years but his mind warns him that change is a necessity for this euphoric heat that radiates from this very moment. He’s never quite felt like this before: throat knotting and heart leaping nearly out of his chest. 
“Let’s—”
“—I need to catch the last train home,” she blurts, quickly taking a step back to distance themselves. 
Like a magnetic force that she is to him, her retraction almost pulls the breath from his lungs along with it.
“What?” he frowns, trying to steady his breath. “It’s 10 right now. My last ride is at midnight.” 
“Yeah, well mine is at 11 and I still have to walk there,” she shrugs indifferently to the entire ordeal—something that Jungkook takes to the heart. 
“What?” he mutters, “the station is right next to this hospital.” 
“What can I say? I’m a slow walker,” she prims, bowing her head and waving her hand to bid farewell. “Thanks for the band aid and all the help today. It was nice catching up. See y—I mean, take care.” 
He stands there in silence, too stunned by the constant turn of events. Distracted by the crestfallen weight in his chest elicited by his shattered hopes, Jungkook raises a hand in response to her pressed, upcurved lips. He can only mumble a seemingly indifferent, “...see ya.”
There she goes—as gracefully as she had reentered his life and as fleeting as she had left for a second time. All this time he knew his side of the story: growingly regretful, discovering a yearning he never knew was within his capabilities, and helplessly pondering over a past he could not change and wondering if she did the same. At some point in time, those feelings became a fragment in time and that person he wished she knew became a version of his present self. He moved on, he forgot the magnitude of the pain, but he never quite came to terms with what it all could have been. 
And all at once, the very moment he stands before her, the past him whomst he had perceived to be temporary comes flooding back into reality—flesh, fervent, and feelings of an immensity he could never have been prepared for—and if he were to be honest, he thought it would have been the same for her. 
He never really knew her side, after all; but at the very least, he desires to hear it from her, herself. She never missed him, she never thought of him from time to time, she never woke up from a dream of him so vivid that it felt so real that she was left with a melancholic loneliness in the air—those words would close the gap in his chest. 
If there’s one thing Jungkook had absolute control over at this very moment, it’s the last chapter of their shared novel in time and this is not the conclusion he imagined. 
Before he knew it, Jungkook finds himself sprinting down the train station. Across the coldly lit hallways, up and down the stairs instead of the ‘shitty, slow escalators,’ and cutting through the nearing midnight breeze of the platforms until the breeze finally brought him to the last unvisited area, his daunting final destination. 
Checking his watch, Jungkook’s chest heaves as he holds his hands to his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. It’s well past 11 now, nearing midnight, and he’s standing at the platform in the opposite direction of her new hometown. To the mere bystander, this platform really didn’t make any sense; but to Jungkook and his inkling, perhaps by a disheveled and desperate state, every twist and turn of the wind brought him right where he believes he belongs. 
Puffs of his breath mark the airy night as he watches his last ride pass by the rails before him. Every cart, every seat, he scans them all. No one. His heart sinks with each check, each flicker of the eyes, and he begins to curse himself for his state of delusion until the last cart of the train flashes by to reveal his finale. 
And as if by some sort of invisible string, life had somehow led him to her once again.
Because there she sits, across the wide yet surely crossable gap of the railway, legs crossed and hands folded in her lap, as if she had been waiting for him all this time. 
Jungkook stands there, stupefied by the works of fate, “why are you—”
“—hey, Jungkook!” she calls out to him, voice echoing across the vast, empty station. “What were you going to tell me back at the hospital?” 
Taken aback by her question, Jungkook chuckles to himself in utter amusement; and as if by the magic sifting through the night, the nearby tower bells ring across the remaining distance between the two at the precise stroke of midnight.
“Let’s date!”
The boy’s zestful holler resembles more like that of a cheerful proclamation, for the way he holds his hands to his lips before throwing them freely into the air garners a giggle from his spectator. His voice projection accompanies the bells, perhaps too softly and thereby physically undetected, but she could hear him nonetheless. 
“I liked you and I still like you so damn much, you dumbass!” 
After witnessing the boy’s courageous display, the words she’s been waiting for but never knew she needed until their paths crossed once again for a limitless nth time slips from her like second nature, almost as if she’s practiced it in her dreams all this time. Her loud proclamation, however, slips beneath the bells like an accompaniment to a ceremonious work of fate. 
The two of them stand on opposite sides of the platform, their confessions are far and wide and perhaps inaudible, but the dorky smiles adorning their lips as they gaze across at their inevitable final chapters serve to prove an undeniable fact. 
Whether by sheer will or by this invisible string, whether by his side or her side, the truth is: their eternities will be forever tied, forever golden.
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