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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Attached - Bonus

Words Read After the Lights-Out

Type: (mini)-series, college AU, professor AU (technically)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 5500

Summary: Modern-college-professor AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Time apart is usually unpleasant and this time wasn’t as exception. With messed-up sleep schedule, Steve helps himself with one of your writing he knows you finished. Will it help him fall asleep?

Warnings: smut, 18+, nsfw, semi-public masturbation, oral (fem receiving), PIV, hints of dom/sub, and fluff… and language (always)

A/N: @donutloverxo is ‘bad’ influence on me. Hopefully it will make up for me still not participating in the wonderful weekly challenge.

So here. Have a tiny bit more of smut and then I’m done with it. I am not a smut writer, no, no, no, no… but yeah, I had plenty of fun with this. It’s smut in a fluffy wrapping, because of course it is. I’m me. So, enjoy?

(Also, I copied the start of reader’s fic from the epilogue, so just you’re not surprised)

Story masterlist

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Steve knew he had permission – a half-heartedly mumbled one, somewhere between consciousness and drifting to sleep, but still a permission –, yet he felt a bit dirty.

He had printed the pages few days ago before he left, knowing you finished the story for now named ‘the second encounter with Professor R’, morbidly curious, but hesitant to dive in. These were still your writings, your imaginations and they might have concerned him, but they were still very intimate. And he wasn’t just thinking sexual intimacy – it was simply something coming from the very depth of your mind and Steve honest to god didn’t want to invade your privacy.

However, he had asked if you’d mind if he read what you had written, and you said no. He had asked if he could read it then – and you said yeah.

Here. Permission. Clear as day. And you had left your laptop open, still logged in, as if in invitation. So he had downloaded it and printed it out.

And now he was watching you lying on your stomach, hugging the pillow that was very much on his side of the bed as if you wished you were cuddling him instead and Steve didn’t crave anything but sliding beside you and pulling you to his side.

The problem was that he had been to a conference on the other side of the country and he nodded off on the plane and not even the long shower made him relax properly. And the last thing he wanted was to wake you up, because the last time you Facetimed, you looked like you could sleep for a year.

Steve knew that the fact he had left you alone for the first time since the rumours started that you two were together and it was no surprise that facing the vultures without the possibility to find solace in each other’s arms was taking its toll on you – he wouldn’t like it either. You wouldn’t admit it to him; you kept the distress about it to yourself, not wanting to burden him. The bed was lonely without him, you had said instead, a claim no doubt true as well – and boy, could Steve relate to that.

So now he fished out the few pages and settled at the desk, only the dim light revealing your words to him, as if they were something that indeed should remain a secret.

Steve spent one more glance at your sleeping form, serene, your lips parted as you softly breathed into the pillow, eyes closed, eyelashes casting weak shadows over your cheeks with the little lamp on and Steve couldn’t stop the corners of his lips rising. You were beautiful and his, lying in his bed, practically begging for him to come and take you to his arms.

Steve promised himself that once he would finish reading, hopefully tire his eyes for a bit, he would do exactly that – falling into a blissful sleep with you in his embrace.

He should have known better, really. He should have known that your story would do everything but lull him to sleep.

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Your pen was half-heartedly scribbling on the paper, your brain not quite registering the words coming from his mouth.

You weren’t prepared for a damn history lecture; mostly because when you knocked on the door of the professor’s office, you did not expected to find him not alone; his colleague, the grumpy old idiot, was sitting at his desk, making nots from a book which you probably wouldn’t even be able to lift with how thick it was.

Speaking of thick things… one was meant to be between your legs now, but no, the other prof just had to sit there third-wheeling and cock-blocking—dammit.

Now here you were, sitting opposite to Professor Rogers at his desk, pretending to be taking notes while he kindly filled in your missing knowledge, talking about god knew what.

His voice was a balm to your ears, deep timbre echoing in your ribcage, stirring heat in your abdomen. His voice did things to you no matter what words he spoke and from what distance, but you much rather had him whispering filthy suggestions to your ear, teeth grazing your skin, praises for all the things you allowed him to do to you, with his fingers, with his tongue, with his-

“Miss Clark!” Professor Rogers snapped all of sudden, voice stern and minutely louder than before. Your head snapped to him at instant, meeting his intense glare and a raised eyebrow. “Do I need to remind you that you were the one who expressed a supposedly genuine endeavour to earn your credit? If you could take notes instead of…” he eyed your wannabe notes with the scepticism they deserved “-doodling, that would be splendid.”

The smirk on his lips gave him away as he met your gaze, rising from his seat pointedly.

“Yes, Professor Rogers,” you said meekly, speeding up the circles and other random motions with your hand. “I’m sorry. My mind wandered off, I got lost in your narrative. It won’t happen again.”

You were so full of shit, because the only thing you got lost in was your own imagination, unholy pictures filling your impatient brain. Professor Rogers certainly knew that too – but he kept the front up for his colleague who just couldn’t seem to leave the damn room if even for a minute.

“It better not,” Professor Roberts commented gruffly, circling the hardwood desk slowly, fingers tracing the top of what he was meant to be fucking you against shall your fantasy come true any time soon. You shifted in your seat, feeling slickness gathering between your lower lips in anticipation. “As I was saying, the battle of Stalingrad…”

A sudden thought struck you when he stood beside you; for the first time in the past hour, you actually wrote something down instead of drawing random patterns.

Professor Rogers looked over your shoulder, reading the line about Professor Banks being a pain in your ass and you going crazy with need for your tutor’s cock. Peripherally, you saw Professor Rogers’ hand curl up in a fist, one corner of your lips rising in a smirk.

If you were to suffer, then so could he. It was a bold move, bratty even, one he might punish you for, but you were willing to take the risk, even feeling a tingle in your abdomen at the premise. Would he punish you? How? Were you in for some impatient manhandling today?

Caught up in your musings, you nearly jumped when his hot breath caressed your ear, a whispered promise causing air to get stuck in your throat, your heart speeding up insanely in your chest.

“Patience. Once he’s gone I’m gonna bend you over this desk…”

Your eyes fluttered shut, your mind supplying you with a helpful visual. You could almost feel his hand stroking the back of your thighs, the curve of your ass over your skin-tight dress, your lower back, and roughly pushing between your shoulder blades to trap you against the desk.

“…the German offensive to capture Stalingrad began in August 1942, using the 6th Army and elements of the 4th Panzer Army. The attack was supported by intense Luftwaffe bombing that reduced much of the city to rubble,” he continued the lecture as he straightened again, as if he hadn’t just vowed to get freaky with you.

His hand grazed the back of your chair, painfully close and still so far, moving to your other side, the heat of his body once again teasing you, his mouth an inch from your skin.

“…and fuck you ‘till you can’t walk…”

Your breathing picked up, your mouth suddenly feeling dry, the urge to lick your lips stronger than you. You glanced in Professor Banks’ direction, but there was no way he could hear what his colleague was whispering to your ear, the filthy promises made in between lecturing you about one of the biggest and most important battles of WW II. How could Professor Rogers even focus-

“You certainly have to write this down, Miss Clark—November 19, the Red Army launched Operation Uranus, a two-pronged attack targeting the weaker Romanian and Hungarian armies protecting the 6th Army's flanks.”

“… and ‘till the only thing you remember from this session is my name...”

You couldn’t even make out the words he spoke on normal volume anymore. Your fingers gripped the pen, the echo of sensations from the last week that had haunted you for days ghosting over your skin, your lips, your-

“…and how good my cock feels in your cunt.”

As if on command, your core clenched around nothing, the desperate craving to relieve some of the gradually building desire causing your thighs to rub together on instinct, hoping to create some friction at least. You could imagine Professor Rogers’ pupils dilating at that, a cocky smirk playing on his lips as one simple sentence of yours backfired unexpectedly.

His lips actually brushed over the shell of your ear with his next words, making you suck in air in a sharp inhale.

“You better get yourself ready, ‘cause I won’t waste any time with that.”

You blinked furiously at the statement, your head once again snapping to the other man in the room, who could turn to you any moment, catching you red-handed if you actually went through with it.

No way, no fucking w-

“Did I stutter, Miss Clark?” Professor Rogers hissed irritably and you dared to look at him, shocked to see a wolfish smile, a hungry glint in his eye that filled your stomach with butterflies, causing you to practically drip into the fabric of your dress.

“No, Professor Rogers,” you whispered obediently, your mind racing as you couldn’t make yourself to slip your hand under and just… listen to the command. “I understood.”

He held your gaze as he stepped to your right to partly shield you from view.

Be a good girl, he mouthed, sending a pleasant shudder down your spine, your pussy weeping for him, something inside you begging for you to obey just so you could hear him say it out loud later.

“Then we shall continue. At the beginning of February 1943, the Axis forces in Stalingrad…”

You inhaled shakily, your hand trembling a little as you let it fall from the top of the table, landing on your leg instead, your thumb grazing the sensitive skin on the inside of your thigh.

Professor Rogers’ eyebrows jumped a fraction, his chin motioning for you to go on, his eyes dark and lustful like a night.

Not daring to cast a single glance at the other man, because he would only make you lose your nerve, you moved your hand under the hem of your dress which was slightly below your mid-thigh, fingers trailing up until they reached the very high thigh-highs you were wearing.

“You seem to be forgetting to take notes, Miss Clark, my patience is truly wearing thin. Let’s move to another battle which was critical for the development of the war, the battle of Bulge…”

The words fell on deaf ears. All you could hear was the pounding of your own heart as your fingers slid right into the slickness pooled at your core; just like he had asked a week ago, there was nothing in the way, no underwear. You nearly whimpered when the tips of your fingers touched your opening, the barely-there contact blissful and yet torturous as you craved so much more.

You could feel his gaze on you, studying every quickened rise and fall of your chest, every single motion of the tendons in your forearm and thighs, flexing when your thumb circled your aching swollen clit, your eyes sliding shut at the tingle that ran through your nerve endings, your forefinger dipping into your cunt. You bit on your lip to stop yourself from releasing the whimper threatening to spill from your lips.

His stupid talk, momentarily empty promises, his voice on your ear, his lips brushing your skin, the light pressure on your clit, the finger moving slowly inside you— it all felt amazing, way too good considering that you knew you weren’t alone, but by God, did it add a tiny bit of a thrill, causing your heart to flutter, your core to burn.

You could still hear Professor Rogers talking, not one of his words registering until his fingertip grazed your collarbone, a breath of ‘such a good girl’ caressing your ear. You gulped, feeling your pussy clench, a shudder running down your spine.

“Go on, make yourself feel good. Add another.”

You had no idea how he knew what you were doing under the fabric, but he retreated again, to talk armies and bloodshed and all you could think off was being the good girl he had proclaimed you, worrying your teeth over your lips strongly enough to draw blood almost, third finger slipping into your heat. Your eyes fluttered open at the sensation, gaze stubbornly fixing on Professor Rogers’ chair, your breathing shallow and quick as you felt the pressure building.

Your mind was turning hazy as you tried to comprehend whether you liked the presence of the unsuspecting professor or were ashamed doing this while he was right there. You massaged your inner walls slowly, carefully despite how much you needed the release at this point, barely moving in or out in the fright of making noise. Your head spun, your thighs trembling softly with your climax nearing, the pleasure on horizon setting your blood on fire.

And then there was a pinch to your shoulder, nearly making you yelp in surprise—but somehow, even in the fog your brain was in, you understood that it was an order to stop and your hand instantly disappeared, curling into a fist on your thigh.

You tried your best to stop the shaking, to ignore the slickness on your fingers, now hopefully hidden in your palm and not on display – and peripherally, you could see Professor Banks rise to his feet, picking up items from his desk.

Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, air caught in your lungs as you attempted to calm yourself just in case he would look at you. As if your sex wasn’t practically pulsing because of the abrupt neglect, so so close to the release you craved.

In a sudden clarity of mind, you swiftly took fresh paper and set in on top of your ‘notes’ and gripped the pen again, seemingly ready to continue writing down important dates and names. You heard Banks steps nearing and you instinctively looked up. You had no idea what face you made, because you had zero control over your mimic muscles, too busy trying not to spontaneously combust.

Whatever he read from your expression, it made him eye his colleague.

“Don’t keep her for much longer, Steven. I’m sure she deserves some fun today too,” the older professor remarked, shooting you an uncharacteristic smile and walked out of the office, his old-fashioned leather case swinging. Professor Rogers’ ‘Don’t worry, Bradley,’ followed him and finally, the door clicked shut behind him, allowing you to release an exhale.

“He has no fucking idea,” you muttered, tossing the damn pen aside, running a hand down your face, while your other one remained curled up in a tight fist.

“Shut you dirty mouth, babygirl,” Professor Rogers hissed, crossing the distance to the door in few long strides, glancing at Banks’ desk to make sure that the man hadn’t forgotten anything he could come back for, and only then locked.

The next thing you knew, you were on your feet, the edge of the hardwood desk digging into your ass, your wrists pinned by his hands.

Your breath was stolen by his mouth, lips taking yours, warm, sweet, soft and demanding, a hungry kiss that had no end, one of your wrists suddenly free as his fingers curled around your nape, tangling in your hair, pushing and pulling, just to get more of you. You submitted easily, gratefully even, blissed out at the feeling of his tongue exploring your mouth, taking everything he wanted.

You gasped for air when he withdrew, his forehead resting against yours for a split moment, his touch on you almost tender now, more so when he brought your wrist to his mouth and left a brief kiss on your knuckles, inhaling deeply, causing your face heat up.

“So obedient, such good girl,” he whispered in a husky voice, thick with arousal, and you could swear you were about to burst. “Sweet, sweet girl.”

You were caught between embarrassed and aroused when he pried your fingers open, his tongue tasting your drying juices. Your core clenched in need and as if he could feel it, his hips rutted into yours, his own excitement evident as his cock poked your lower stomach, his mouth once again on yours, your hand trapped between your bodies, his fingers gripping your sides tightly.

“I promised you something, didn’t I?” he mumbled to your mouth.

Recalling just what a vow he had made you with the other man still present, you gladly let him spin you around, manoeuvre you to press your front to his desk with no regard for the notes scattered over it. You instantly missed the warmth of his body, but his hands went to knead the flash of your ass, one sliding to your lower back, the other hiking up your dress.

A groan escaped him at the sight of you bared for him, his foot nudging yours apart, his grip on you tightening, fingers digging into your flesh enough to bruise before they slid lower, dipping into your slickness. His fingertips spread it, circling your clit, nearly causing your knees to buckle at the shot of bliss sent through your veins. A pathetic mewl fell from your lips and you could only imagine the indulgent smile on his face.

“God, look at you, so pretty, so ready for me,” he praised, fingers tracing the lace of your thigh-highs. “I really like these. Good choice…. Hold on tight, babygirl.”

You wasted no time and listened to him, grabbing the edge of the desk as his touch disappeared. You closed your eyes, anticipation building when you heard the tell-tale of him unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside you again and as wrong or right as it was, you couldn’t help yourself, missing him. You knew things weren’t as simple as they could be seen – you noticed the little things, unnecessary tenderness peeking through, showing you that you were more than just a mindless fuck.

His warm palms spread your cheeks almost lovingly, slightly guiding you up so you stood on your tiptoes, bracing on the hardwood desk, so close to beg for him to finally fill you up, so con-

“Oh my-“ you cried out, your thighs clenching when instead of his hard cock nudging your slit, a velvety-soft warmth licked at your opening, eager and hungry, wasting no time and opening you further, the tip of his tongue pushing in, his lips sucking every drop you offered. Blood rushed to your head and to your centre, fingertips tingling, your most sensitive parts feeling like on fire. His beard was a stark contrast to the softness of his tongue, rough sensation making you dizzy. “Prof-“

His fingers applied pressure on your clit again, the circling motions making your head spin, your thighs shake again with the intensity of the approaching orgasm as professor Rogers fucked you with his tongue relentlessly, reaching even deeper, flicking his tongue and driving you absolutely crazy with pleasure.

A cry ripped from your throat as your climax shook your whole world, knees giving out, your fingers weakly clutching at the edge of the desk, your body slack against the wood. And he didn’t stop. He helped you ride it out with vigour, humming against your cunt, sending aftershocks through your veins. Only when he stopped, you felt you could finally breathe— his mouth moved just a fraction, a sting on your inner thigh as he sucked a mark of possession, one he kissed afterwards; even in your haze, a soft warmth enveloped your heart. Not a mindless fuck.

“Sorry sweetheart, I couldn’t help myself…” he muttered to your skin, stroking, squeezing, kissing, moving up and whispering to your hair. Did he just apologize…? “You’re even sweeter than I hoped.”

Your heart fluttered, your hand blindly finding his as it still clutched on your waist. He didn’t retreat, gently squeezing back, knocking the breath out of you when he simultaneously entered you, his whole length in one swift motion, sinking so easily into your weeping cunt.

Professor Rogers moaned as you gasped, your core instinctively clenching around him.

“So tight… so good-“

His hands moved to your hips, his cock driving in and out, slowly at first, letting you feel every inch, his thick member stretching you pleasantly after such delicious preparation.

“Professor Rogers,” you gasped when he hit the right spot, his grip tightening.

“That it, babygirl?” he teased, purposely changing the angle, barely brushing your g-spot with his next thrust. You couldn’t help the mewl of frustration, attempting to shift and help yourself, only to meet with the steely hold he had on you. “Ah-ah, none of that, babygirl… you want more? Want me to make good on my promise?”

You really wanted to sneer at him, to snap, but—God, he moved so right the next moment, giving you another taste of the delicious sensation and you nodded fiercely, only for him to still in his movements, thumbs drawing a circle on your skin.

“Yes,” you voiced your request then, earning a satisfied hum and a tap of his fingers. Words are good, now do better, you almost heard him say and you clenched your jaw in frustration. For God’s sake- “Yes, please.”

“Please what?” he urged you as he rolled his hips lazily, dragging his cock alongside your walls so painfully slow.

You sighed, rocking yours hips just a bit – vainly, again.

“Please, fuck me against the desk… Professor Rogers.”

It worked like a charm, a kiss landing between your clothed shoulder blades.

“Good girl,” he hummed, the praise giving you as much joy as it did to him, apparently. “Brace yourself, sweetheart, I’m not holding back on you. I waited long enough…”

And that he did; the lecture had been a torture until it changed into a different kind of-

The half-unpleasant memory vanished from your mind, quickly replaced by the sensation of his length filling you up again, and again, again, speeding up, angling his hips so he finally hit the spot you craved to have stimulated, driving in and out with force that made you see stars, sharp gasps escaping your lips with each thrust.

You clutched at the table, unable to hold still, trying to meet him halfway, adding to the pleasure that had tears gathering behind your closed eyelids.

“Shit, I’m gonna-“ he groaned and freed one of his hands in favour to take you with him, playing with your clit and making you moan his name as the coil in your abdomen snapped again, causing you clench around him. It tipped him over the edge and you felt him spill into you, some of his seed tickling your opening as he rode his climax out.

You were both breathing heavily as his body laid over yours, the sweat gathering on your forehead and back be damned. You melted into the comfort his weight offered, pleasantly surprised when one of his hands found yours, still on the edge of the desk, fingers interlacing, a wet sloppy kiss landing on the side of your neck.

You could feel him soften inside you, a new sensation that felt strangely intimate, and yet he stayed a little longer.

“Stay right here, babygirl,” he rasped out, the warmth of him disappearing as he stood up fully and pulled out.

You obeyed despite not being sure what was about to happen… your first thought was a photo and you weren’t sure how you felt about that.

However, your first thought was wrong.

You heard rustle as he pulled out a wet-wipe, a sharp exhale following – warming it up, you realized later – and then he carefully cleaned you up, soft and wary of how sensitive you were, his mission ending with a brief kiss on the spot where the bitemark was probably already blooming.

“You can get up,” he encouraged you, standing by your side, hands hovering as if ready to catch you.

Now your head spun for a whole different reason. What the hell was happening? What was he doing? What did this mean? You weren’t about to complain in the slightest, but… what.

Professor Rogers was observing you wordlessly, intense gaze you couldn’t hope to understand and you couldn’t help the shame warming up your cheeks, knowing that even with waterproof mascara and quality lipstick, you were far from looking perfect – and still, he appeared to be feasting his eyes on you.

Before you could try and fix it, he caught your hand halfway to your face, planting a kiss on your wrist and reaching for another tissue, taking care of it himself.

You were rendered speechless, eyes wide, lips parted as his own spread in a gentle smile, gaze almost fond as his thumb caressed your cheek.

“Pretty girl,” was all he said, a kiss landing on your forehead, causing your breath to hitch, your eyelashes fluttering as you blinked several times, unable to comprehend.

You were too stunned to say a single word, frozen on spot and yet you could feel your bones melting under his gaze, still unwavering, focused, boring into yours.

Neither of you made an attempt to move – neither of your reached for your handbag so you could be on your way. You just stood there in silence, lost in how incredibly handsome, beautiful he was up-close, finally having time to fully appreciate it – and with the softness of his features, you felt yourself fall for him, caught in the safety net of his kind eyes.

Your mouth opened uselessly and the pad of thumb moved to run over your lips, ending up in the corner of your mouth, raising it in a lopsided smile.

“You called me my first name,” he whispered, effectively bursting your blissful bubble and invading it with horror.

Oh god, you had? When—oh. Oh. Now you recalled it, a tiny bit horrified that you actually called him ‘Steve’ when reaching your peak.

“I’m sor-“

He shook his head and before you could finish, he pulled you in for another kiss, slow, deep and meaningful, his arm curling around your waist as if he couldn’t get you close enough and once again, you weren’t about to complain, placing one palm on his shoulder, the other on the side of his neck instead.

“I liked it,” he breathed to your mouth, pecking your lips once more before releasing you. “I’ll see you next week, Miss Clark.”

You nodded automatically, still stunned by the whole turn of events and accepted the handbag he gently handed you.

“…thanks,” you muttered and let him lead you out of the office.

When he unlocked the door, you readjusted your dress, making sure that in any normal circumstances people could see the lack of your underwear; what a reminder of Professor Rogers – Steve – being no less kinky than the first time, no matter how his demeanour now. You glanced at his face again and lost all remnants of sanity.

You placed your hand on his broad impressive bicep and dropped a light kiss on his cheek, enjoying the tickle of his beard once more.

“I’ll see you,” you echoed his words, meeting his twinkling eyes before walking out of the door.

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Steve had to blink several times as he finished reading, trying to get a grasp on reality again, the words and images still swimming in front of his eyes. He needed few moments to process what he just read for more than one reason; he certainly didn’t feel sleepy as he had naively hoped.

He found the story hot, yeah, he wasn’t kidding himself, he was rock hard and aching, but what took him aback greatly and rendered him speechless was the sentiment. The shift in the relationship, the parts of Steve you got to know that you had implemented into the story with ease, the story in which ‘Miss Clark’ was surprised by the professor’s affection.

Steve read in the words the same astonishment and tender awe he saw in your eyes when you first exchanged ‘I love you’, after he had read the very start of this story for the first time and told you that he loved your mind as well.

Even when he glanced at your form now, so tempting in his bed, practically begging for him to satiate the hunger that your words spurred, it was impossible to ignore the warmth in his chest, his heart suddenly feeling too big for his ribcage.

Delicately placing the pages down, he turned off the lamp and carefully made his way to you, the mattress dipping under his weight, the motion drawing an adorable but barely audible whimper from you. Steve smiled for himself and slid beside you, curling his arms around your form and pulling you to his chest as much as he could without poking you with his hard-on, having decided to ignore it until it went away. He just-- honestly, he wouldn’t say no, but just holding you would suffice tonight.

You melted into his body so trustingly and naturally it made his heart ache and sing at the same time—God, he loved you. Then, as your mind registered that he was technically not supposed to be there, your form stiffened before pressing into him further, curling in his embrace, allowing him to nuzzle his nose in your hair.

“Hi,” you greeted him sleepily, but no less sweetly.

Steve dropped a kiss to the back of your head, his smile widening. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m okay, I’m glad to be home and you can go back to sleep.”

“Mm-mm, thanks for the report.”

You turned your head to catch his lips in a welcome kiss, one Steve wouldn’t refuse in a million years; sleepy, a bit sloppy, but one that tasted like home. Yours. And with both of you smiling into it.

“Welcome back. I missed you.”

He brushed the strand of your hair from your face, kissing you once more at your admission.

“Missed you more.”

Your grin only widened when you rolled over to him fully, tangling your limbs with his and accidently – possibly on purpose – brushing his erection with your thigh. He hissed despite himself and he would swear he could see a glint of mischief in your eyes despite the lack of light in the room.

“Oh, I see how it is, you missed me,” you giggled adorably and Steve couldn’t bring himself to be exasperated at you breaking the magic of the moment. And he certainly didn’t feel like telling you what exactly got him into this state – at least not now.

“Not just like that,” he grumbled and you giggled once more, finding his lips with yours, your hand surprisingly moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart, rather than heading down his torso.

“I’m hopeful,” you whispered, looking up at him from under your eyelashes and even in the dark, Steve felt his heart stutter. God, you were beautiful. Breath-taking. His. “But we should take care of this.”

Your hand slid considerably lower, giving some attention to his aching hard-on, softly curling your fingers around it and stroking and his resolve was slowly – very quickly – turning non-existent.

“I didn’t want to wake you at all. You need to sleep-“ he tried out weakly and you eyed him again, kissing his sternum, still smiling.

“Don’t feel sleepy. And I missed you too. In all the ways possible. I want to feel you, Steve.”

And fuck, he was lost. To your hands, to your lips, to your voice – when did it grow so sultry? –, to the smell of your shampoo and bodywash and your skin and to your damn face he couldn’t even see properly.

“Hey,” he mumbled in a spur of the moment, catching your hand to still your delicate strokes before they clouded his mind completely.

You blinked in an understandable surprise; but he had an important thing to say, simultaneously making a mental note to emphasize it again when telling you he read the second story too.

“Wha-“

“I truly missed you, sweetheart. I love you.”

Your surprise melted into something much softer and Steve couldn’t but meet your lips again, catching a glimpse of that same awe he marvelled at when reading. Your fingers in his hair were an epitome of bliss as you kissed him back with care.

“I love you too, Steve. So much…” you vowed and then there were no more words needed.

Steve devoured your lips, your body, revelling in every soft sigh of his name. And soon worn out after you both tipped over the edge, you fell asleep, tucked under the covers in his arms, the pair of you finally sleeping soundly again after being apart.

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‘One-shot’ Hurtful Words part 1

S.R. masterlist

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Thank you for reading :-*

I felt like I owe it to you, to them and to myself after the story she was writing didn’t get to be read (Steve caught her writing it). I hope you enjoyed :)

I’m thinking one more one-shot, maybe, will see how it goes, I’ll be pretty busy from the next week, so...

300 notes · View notes

blueluneacy · 4 years

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Your Thoughts on Pages

This is the second place fic! It ended up not having sex, but rather just sweet moments and rohan being... weird. Once I finish everything on my list, I might do a follow up to this!

Also on AO3!

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: pining, inappropriate use of stands, rohan majorly overstepping his boundaries, slight angst

“Kishibe, I really don’t understand why I needed to come all the way out here for this…” You sighed, putting your binder to the side as you allowed yourself to sit down for the tea that Rohan had insisted on. Rohan was a nice enough person, but after the time you had worked with him, you could tell that he was a fairly independent kind of writer. Other writers you edited for liked to be in contact with you, or asked for your opinion on this or that, but not Rohan. That’s not to say you didn’t have a good relationship with him, just a bizarre one. The two of you had a nice long chat when you first became his editor, and it became very clear that you were not to mess with any of his vision. No one ever dared to try and give Rohan ideas on what he should do, or try to tell him that what he was writing was not what was wanted for the magazine. You simply collected the pages once a week in a neat envelope, and you would scan it all in. It was a nice, neat and cordial relationship. You never had to get on Rohan’s case about deadlines or the content of his work, to the point where the two of you rarely communicated. It wasn’t like you disliked the man, it’s just that you had a bunch of other artists to hound about this or that, that Rohan ended up as a nonissue. He was ol’ reliable, someone you didn’t have to deal with, the dependable artist. Even if the world was falling apart, Rohan Kishibe got his pages in on time. You supposed that him calling you then should’ve made you worry, but you were too focused on the meetings you had to cancel in order to see him.

“Oh, come on now, it’s been a long while. I figured I better be kind to my guest. And er… Butter you up before I hand over bad news.” Rohan told you, the last part of his sentence making you freeze up. Oh god, was he quitting? Were his hands broken? Was it, dear god, carpal tunnel? A million scenarios ran through your hand as Rohan sat down across from you, but absolutely none of them were what was actually going on.

“Bad news? Alright, lay it out on me. No sugar coating, the more I know, the better I can fix it. I mean, that’s literally what I’m here for, right?” You tried your best not to be nervous, already mentally writing out all the emails needed to clear out your day for this. If Rohan had bad news, then it was bad for everyone. Dark Pink Boy was easily the reason why most people bought the magazine in the first place, and you weren’t sure how everyone would take a hit if Rohan had to take an extended leave. But, he just sighed, leaning in a little, looking you right in the eye.

“I’ve run out of inspiration. Nothing is working, it seems like there’s nowhere for me to go.” He sighed, and for a moment, you actually… Relaxed. Well, alright. Rohan was going through a rut, that’s all. Perfectly natural for someone working as hard as he was. And, probably more easily fixable than carpal tunnel. Probably.

“I… I see. Well, how do you feel? Have you tried going on walks or something, or just… Well, I don’t know. Maybe reading other people’s work?” You suggested, shrugging a bit. Alright, this you could actually work this. You worked with probably over a hundred artists at this point to help them through writer’s block, and you succeeded most of the time. Why would Rohan be any different? Well, you did forget one detail.

“Other people’s work?” You actually heard him scoff at the very notion. “Of course I wouldn’t do that. My characterization is based on my observations and knowledge of real people, in order to write highly realistic characterization. My writing just wouldn’t be the same if I stooped to actually reading other people’s work. It’s a cycle of tweaking that would lead to me creating garbage.” Ah, that’s why Rohan was so difficult to work with. He was a diva when it came to his work, and it was also why you never had bothered to comment on his work in the first place. You had heard that the previous editor had tried to make Rohan tone down some of the themes in Dark Pink Boy, and it ended up in a fierce battle that left the old editor actually retiring. You didn’t want the hassle, and the readers liked the work as it was. You could hassle to make something family friendly with a smaller mangaka, you weren’t about to offend what was for all intents and purposes, the company’s bread and butter. So you bit your tongue and nodded, trying to think of some sort of solution.

“I see, I see… Well, there are plenty of fans who I’m sure would die to even talk to you, let alone help. Why not set up a meeting with a few and have some questionnaires ready? Or are you concerned they might give false answers because of who you are?” You tried, but Rohan just sighed and nodded.

“You already picked up on my concern. I know that any fan I would go to would ultimately be starstruck. I’ve tried with a few already, but it just never worked out. They were… They just weren’t the type of people my fans would enjoy. But, luckily, I do have a solution to all this. That’s where you come in.” Rohan told you, scooting just a bit closer as you let out a sigh of relief. Oh thank god, you wouldn’t have to write all those emails after all. He just needed your help with something? Thank god, you could easily do a few tasks for him. Beats trying to psychologically get this man through some sort of writer’s rut.

“Really? What is it? Just let me know, and I promise to do the best that I can.” You gave a smile, nodding a bit. Rohan could see the tension in your shoulders relax a bit, causing him to smile a little. Rohan always enjoyed your company, but he knew the relationship the two of you shared as much as he did. It was best if an editor didn’t get in the way. You knew that, and he appreciated that. It was almost embarrassing to him that he had to turn to you like this, but he quickly shed any shame he had for it. I mean, you weren’t really going to help in any way that others hadn’t helped before. If anything, this was more allowed because you were meant to be his resource. It wasn’t like you could complain.

“Well, I know you don’t idolize me. If anything, you seem frantic to get away from me.” Rohan said, a bit teasing. You jumped in to try and defend yourself, only for Rohan to continue. “Don’t worry, I know you’re busy. But, it’s perfect. You’ll be a perfect base to jump off of. Genuine, no need to impress me, and doesn’t care about influencing the end of the story.” He told you. You just sighed and pulled out your phone, already typing out the emails to clear out the rest of your day. You knew Rohan was meticulous, so this was already going to take a while. Might as well give yourself the time now.

“Alright, ask away then. I just need to clear out my schedule so I don’t have to abandon ship on you. I think the rest of the day should be doable…” You replied, not noticing how Rohan had stood up, an eerie grin crossing his face.

“Oh, that should be more than enough. But I don’t think I’m going to be asking any questions…” You turned to look back at the man, only to find his hand hit your face, your body tumbling onto the floor. You tried to pull yourself up, only to find that you couldn’t move. You gasped, your form starting to tremble as your eyes darted to your cheek, noticing paper fluttering in what used to be the skin of your cheek.

“Kishibe, what is going on-” You spoke out, only for Rohan to climb on top of you, straddling your body. You gulped, already expecting the worst, only for his to take the paper into your hands and start to read.

“Hmm, interesting. Those are the names of your parents, and… Oh, I see, I see!” Rohan reached over to grab a pen and notepad, jotting down a few notes.

“W-What are you… What’s happening, why can’t I move? You’re scaring me, Kishibe..” You whimpered out, trying to find some sort of handle on your fear, leaving Rohan only to sigh.

“Of course you wouldn’t understand this. Don’t worry, I’m not going to hurt you. I just need some information, and the easiest way to get it is to read it right from you.” Rohan’s voice was cold and methodical, as if he were just telling you the ingredients of a cereal box. You tried to get a reign on your emotions, watching as Rohan read the papers from your face, writing down the information that he liked onto his notepad, before turning the page. He was interesting to watch like this. You imagined that this was probably the way that he was when he was working, his eyes intense and focused. It was a nice look for him, really. You supposed that you never really had the time to appreciate it, but Rohan really was quite pretty.

“You shouldn’t be thinking those things when it gets written down right before me.” Rohan pointed out, leaving you to sputter as your face turned red. If he was just bluffing, your face gave you away anyways.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! S-Stop being weird!” You tried to bite back, but Rohan just smiled a bit, leaning in a bit to read aloud from the pages.

“‘Rohan’s eyes seem so focused right now, I never noticed how pretty they were. Do you think he uses his own face as a base reference, the lighting right now is actually pretty incredible. If we weren’t like this, I might actually-”

“Alright, that’s enough of that, I think you’ve read enough now!” You replied, starting to get a bit antsy. Was he just going to read everything you thought of him, because if so… Uh oh. Big uh oh.

Sure, you had gotten over it by now, but there was a major problem. Namely, how you felt about Rohan on a personal level. When you were only a junior editor, you had developed a minor crush on the man, falling head over heels at the first glance you had of him. Sure, you were probably over it now, but at the time, it was bad. You never really pursued it, after all, you were supposed to be working together, but this… This was about to get really embarrassing.

But your frantic nature regarding your own life story seemed to only egg Rohan on more, determined to read as many pages as he could. So, he flipped through, apparently skimming for his own name, before he finally landed on something. You could tell it was something juicy, reading before his smile seemed to fall and his eyes widened.

“I… I see. I didn’t know.” Rohan told you, leaning back for a moment and thinking. You averted your eyes, trying to come up with something to say in response. When you finally collected your thoughts and opened your mouth to say something though, Rohan just smiled, grabbing his pencil and instead moving to the page. “Well, we can always make adjustments here, just to see what would happen. Think of it as… Playing out a scenario.” Rohan replied, but as the pencil started to come closer to your face, you couldn’t help but snap.

“Rohan, you can’t just manipulate my emotions, it isn’t right!” You yelled, leaving Rohan to lean back, staring at you for a moment before crossing his arms, looking away as if pouting like a child.

“I thought you wanted to help me with my writing.” Oh, so he was pulling that card? You had had just about enough of whatever strange things were going on with Rohan for a lifetime, with him not even letting you process what was happening before jumping onto the next thing, working quickly and efficiently in a way that made your head spin. “You know… That was the first time you called me by my first time. I used to insist you did, but I eventually gave up. The first time was you yelling at me. Figures.” Rohan let out a bitter laugh, and you started to piece a few things together as he placed down his pencil, shaking his head a bit.

“W-Wait, Kishi-... Rohan. Just, pause for a minute. I think maybe we should… I don’t know, talk? About whatever the hell is going on right here and now?” You told him, only for Rohan to roll his eyes.

“If I tried to explain the concept of a stand to you, it would probably go over your head, and I’m not sure that it would even matter in the scheme of things, considering the-” Rohan started to go off, but you just stopped him, sighing a bit.

“Not about that. About… You. I can’t tell what’s going on in your head, and that hardly seems fair, since you know everything going on in mine. Tell me what’s going on. What’s really going on.” You tried to keep your voice cool and calm, looking over Rohan and even trying to smile just a bit. Rohan sighed, and looked at the ground, his nails digging into his palms.

“It’s stupid. I shouldn’t be thinking these things, feeling any of these things, I don’t know why they’re here and I can’t get rid of them. I shouldn’t have made you come all this way, I…” He drifted off, leaving you unsure of if he didn’t know what else to say or didn’t have the will to say it. Either way, it looked like it was up to you to save this situation. You took a deep breath, looking at Rohan intensely in hopes that it would make you look at least a little more serious.

“Rohan, make it so that I can move again, please.” Your voice was probably a little more demanding than you meant it to be, the please added more to make it seem like you were ordering him to do anything. Rohan froze up for a moment, before reaching in as closing the pages on your face. In an instant, it was like your entire body loosened up, and you looked at Rohan, just examining those eyes you found so beautiful. Rohan seemed so sheepish for his normal personality, starting to scoot off of you to give you a bit of space.

“I should let you go, I’m sure there’s some way I can get through all this. Maybe I’ll even try that reading idea of yours, if all else fails-” Oh, Rohan. You weren’t sure if he was trying to act more pathetic than he was feeling, or this was the truth, but you fell for it all the same. You sat up the best you could with him on top of you wrapping your arms around Rohan and pressing your lips against his. Was this impulsive and stupid? Oh, absolutely. But did Rohan’s lips feel warm against yours, melding together with you in a way that just felt right, like it was meant to always happen? Yes. Yes, of course.

And Rohan’s eyes widened, his nails digging into his palms as if to make sure this wasn’t a dream, that you weren’t some figment here to haunt him. But no, you were real, you were soft, and with that confirmation, Rohan let himself melt into the kiss, moving to wrap his arms around you, to just hold you for a moment. This may be his only chance, so he might as well take advantage of it. When you finally pulled away, Rohan almost felt bad, knowing that this moment might never come again, that this moment might have been out of pity instead of true affection, that everything would now officially be at an end. And yet, wheels started to turn in Rohan’s head as he turned away, his eyes widening.

“Oh… Now, that would be a perfect arc!” Rohan shot up from your lap, already pacing a bit and snatching up his notepad, making his way to the stairs while talking to himself. “If I take the positioning from the last chapter, we’re in the prime position to introduce a new character, so some sort of design correlating with the current theming shouldn’t be hard, if I take…” He started to go on, and you knew that in a moment or three, it was going to be impossible to pull him out of his haze. You couldn’t help but laugh. Well, at least you seemed to have solved the problem you had come here in the first place to solve.

“Well, I take it you have ideas for your next chapter. That’s good. I suppose then…” You looked around at the now cooled tea that Rohan had offered you, the awkwardness you had just induced into your relationship, and got the vibe that maybe it was time to leave. But as you gathered up your things, Rohan’s head up snapped to you, his train of thought broken.

“Hey, stay. I… I want to talk to you after I finish writing down a few things in my office. About… Us.” You noticed a light dusting of blush over his face, making your own face flush. Oh god, it was like your old crush was flaring up all over again. Lord have mercy. You looked at the ground, just nodding a bit and sitting back down.

“A-Alright. Come back quickly, okay? I… I’m glad that I could at least help you a little bit. I know I’m sort of useless as your editor, but still…” You laughed a bit to try and lighten the mood, but Rohan just shook his head.

“Oh, (Y/n). You always seem to help me. Even just seeing your face is all the help I need sometimes. I’ll be back soon. Feel free to grab what you want from the kitchen.” With that, Roha ran up the stairs to work on who knows what, leaving you alone to your thoughts, sitting in Rohan’s living room.

Leaving you to think about a kiss you probably never should’ve given, and the joy that it was most likely about to lead to.

#rohan kishibe/reader #rohan kishibe x reader #rohan/reader #rohan x reader #jjba x reader #jjba/reader #jjba imagines #writing #my writing #mine #sfw

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marukrawler · 3 years

Note

my arm is hurting like hell due to a vaccine i had to take yesterday and it's giving me a dumb writer block and idk how to continue the lil thing i'm writing of the Fermin laser sword battle so uhhh pls consider Mira following the Fermin tradition of going ape shit and being like "I will bring you back Keith even if i had to cut you in pieces!" and Spectra equally going ape shit and saying "bring it sis >:D"

ohhh sorry to hear about the sore arm >.< but being physically unable to write tends to help w writer's block in my past experience lmao

i personally would've went w "even if i have to beat you up and drag you home myself" but maybe that's just me not committing to the feral™ lol

idk maybe keith says something to her that just makes her SNAP and she goes in w the intention of hurting him. . .could go either way i guess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#bakugan #mira fermin #keith fermin #why is this literally naruto's valley of the end fight tho lmao #i keep telling you that mira's going to bring keith back to the village lmaooo

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lloydskywalkers · 5 years

Text

There’s Insurance for That

In which Skylor buys lunch, stops a criminal, and learns the best way to blow up the kitchen electronics section, which is a pretty normal week for her, she guesses. Or, five places the ninja are no longer allowed into, featuring Skylor.

(been hitting a bit of a writer’s block with everything else lately, so here’s this...disaster, i guess?? because these ninja are definitely a disaster in this, but i was having fun so. this is the bed bath & beyond fic btw, in case anyone was wondering gdfkgdh)

1. My. Kazami’s Ramen Place

At this point, sadly, Skylor’s used to it.

It’s around a quarter to noon on a Monday, just as she's leaving the noodle shop for her well-deserved lunch break, when a familiar scream splits the relatively-quiet afternoon air on this side of Ninjago City.

The only reason Skylor does not immediately dissolve into panic at said scream is because she is — also sadly — familiar with the variations of it, and this one sounds less like it’s Lloyd’s “I’m-in-terrible-danger-and/or-pain-again” scream, and more like his “I’m-free-falling-on-purpose-from-the-sky-again” scream. Which is, in and of itself, not entirely concerning. In fact, it’d probably be more unusual not to see Lloyd go falling from the sky at some point during any of the ninjas’ higher-than-eight-feet battles, because somehow that’s become a habitual thing. The sky is blue, fire is hot, Kai uses hair gel — Lloyd is going to drop screaming from the sky at some point this month.

So instead of panicking, Skylor figures she’ll just stand in the vicinity until Lloyd either climbs out of another dumpster, or lands on top of her. Kai doesn’t seem to be around to catch him, so Skylor’s prepared to step up, even though it looks like Lloyd’s got a pretty good handle on landing, at the angle she’s watching him from.

Still though, she muses. You’d think he’d have started actively wearing a parachute at this point.

“Kai suggested that,” Lloyd says, after he’s finally able to stand straight, and he’s not quite as cross-eyed. He frowns at his reflection in a store window as they pass by, scuffing at his windblown hair again. “But it gets in the way, you know? It throws off my backflips.”

“That’s a nail in the coffin right there,” Skylor agrees, leading them across another sidewalk. Lloyd’s attracting a lot of looks, with his bright green battle gi and razor-sharp sword strapped across his back, but fortunately no one’s started crowding them yet. Probably because the razor-sharp sword strapped to his back. “Can’t have your fighting style completely crippled,” she adds.

“I don’t backflip that much,” Lloyd huffs. Yes, you do, is on the tip of Skylor’s tongue, because she’s seen him fight, but she decides not to pick that battle…this time.

“Besides,” Lloyd continues. “I don’t really need a parachute, anyways. I always make sure to aim for like, somewhere safe to land. Relatively safe. Safe-ish.”

Skylor eyes him. “You landed in a dumpster.”

Lloyd bristles in offense. “I did not! It was a perfectly respectable recycling bin.”

“Same thing, if you ask me.”

“Not even close. Dumpsters are gross. Recycling bins you just crash through a whole bunch of cardboard and old newspapers. It’s luxury trash diving.”

Skylor just sighs, shaking her head, and edits the text she’s been tapping out for Kai.

Skylor > found your kid in a recycling bin

Skylor > taking him to lunch bc you’re clearly starving him again

Skylor > he’s alive btw

Kai > oh thank fsm

Kai > tell him he’s grounded

Kai > u never take me for lunch :(

Skylor > maybe if u dropped on me from the sky sometime i would

“Hey, are the others busy?” she asks Lloyd in afterthought. “Like…fighting anyone?”

“Huh?” Lloyd blinks. He then flushes, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, no. We’d pretty much finished up the fight when I, uh…there was a break-in, on the Bounty? We had the guys all taken care of, but they blew part of the mast up, and it left debris all over the deck, so I kind of…maybe….tripped…”

Lloyd is bright red by the time he finishes the sentence. Skylor wouldn’t feel so bad about it, if she wasn’t doubled over laughing at him in the middle of rush hour traffic.

“You are a trained ninja,” she breathes out, between snickers.

“I know,” Lloyd moans.

“You’re like, part god.”

“I know,” Lloyd moans again, into his hands this time. Skylor has to grab his shoulders and forcibly drag him along down the crowded street, trying not to cringe inside at all the looks they’re getting.

“Kai says you’re grounded, by the way,” she says, as the last of her laughter fades.

That snaps Lloyd out of it. “He can’t ground me,” he scowls. “I’m leader.”

“Stop falling from the sky, and maybe he’ll give it a rest,” Skylor replies, glancing down as her phone buzzes again.

Kai > I’d join u but I’m stuck on prison delivery

Kai > nya’s coming to pick up the demon spawn tho

Skylor > nice I’ve been wanting to buy her lunch

Kai > cruel

“—don’t know what you mean, I don’t fall that often, and most of the time it’s on purpose, anyways—”

Skylor chooses to ignore Lloyd’s slightly-concerning, sulking rambling, and pats his shoulder instead. “Nya’s coming for lunch, too,” she says. “Does ramen sound good?”

“Oh, yeah.” Lloyd brightens, seemingly cheered by the reminder he’s getting food out of this. “It’s been a while since I’ve eaten out.”

“I can tell,” Skylor says, eyeing him. “Cole hasn’t been cooking for you, has he?"

“No, but we put Zane on mandatory break so he could relax a bit, and we’re all suffering for it.”

Lloyd and Skylor both jump at Nya’s voice, not having heard her coming up behind them.

“Nya!” Lloyd beams. “Skylor is — ouch, hey, let go!”

“That’s what you get for giving me gray hairs again,” Nya scolds, digging her knuckles into Lloyd’s hair. She looks up from the hold she’s pulled him into, and smiles brightly at Skylor. “Hi, Skylor. Nice to see you.”

“Hi, Nya.” Skylor gives a little wave, watching Lloyd squirm out of Nya’s grasp in amusement.

“So, ramen?” Nya says, giving Lloyd one last elbow in the side before joining Skylor.

“Yeah,” she says. “I was thinking the place down on seventh, the Sobahouse, I think?”

Lloyd and Nya both stiffen, their steps slowing. Skylor pauses, turning to stare at them in confusion. “That’s not the one owned by someone named Mr. Kazami, is it?” Nya finally asks, hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah, it is, actually,” Skylor blinks. “He’s pretty nice, we go to the same grocer on weekends.”

“Ah,” Lloyd says, carefully.

“Hm,” Nya hesitates.

Skylor looks between the two of them, now completely stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. She really hopes no one is getting pictures of her like this. There are enough flash articles about the rumored orange ninja cryptid on the internet as it is. “Is that…a problem?”

Nya pointedly stares at the sky as if it’s the most interesting thing she’s seen all day. Baffled, Skylor tries the weaker link. Lloyd swallows, avoiding her eyes as he bounces from leg to leg, as if the mere thought of trying to enter the restaurant is terrifying. Which is mildly alarming, because this is the same kid who power-walked straight into a prison full of escaped violent criminals, his psychotic ex, and his undead murderous dad without hesitation.

“We can’t,” Lloyd finally mutters, staring at the sidewalk. Nya elbows him in the side, hissing “weak link” as she does. Lloyd just glares at her.

“O-okay,” Skylor says, unsure. “I mean, that’s fine if you guys want to go somewhere else. I just didn’t know you…didn’t like this place…”

“No, we do,” Lloyd grinds out, and he looks more embarrassed than terrified now, so Skylor aborts her half-formed plans of speed-dialing Karloff. “We just can’t. Go in, that is. We’re not allowed to.”

Skylor stares at him. “You’re not allowed in? Why not?”

“Because,” Nya forces through gritted teeth. “They banned us.”

“They what?” Skylor gapes.

Nya presses her lips together tightly. Lloyd stares very hard at the ground, as if desperately trying to convince himself to keep quiet. Skylor can pinpoint the moment he breaks, his expression contorting as he throws his hands up wildly. “You blow their electrical system up one time—”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor groans, before bursting into laughter at him for the second time that day. Lloyd looks incredibly unappreciative, his expression scrunching up in annoyance like she hasn’t seen since that one stupid skating match with Chamille, and that just makes her laugh harder.

“We were trying to save them!” Nya defends indignantly. “It’s not our fault they had weak wiring—”

“I just got a little too into it, it’s — it’s Nya’s fault, she’s the one that said it’d be cool if I tried to do shockwave thing like in—”

“That was a mutual thing and you know it!”

“Oh guys, no,” Skylor wheezes into her hands.

“It worked!”

“Poor Mr. Kazami,” Skylor manages, through snickers. Lloyd’s shoulders slump, his upper lip pouting, and Nya crosses her arms, as if refusing to look ashamed.

“It’s not like the other guys aren’t banned from anywhere, either—”

“Alright, alright,” Skylor waves her hands, taking pity on them. “We’ll go somewhere else.”

“Good,” Nya mutters, as Lloyd exhales in relief. Skylor just snickers again, leading them down the sidewalk in the opposite direction. She bites her lip, shaking her head, before a thought occurs to her.

“Wait, what do you mean, ‘it’s not like they aren’t banned from anywhere’?” she frowns. “You guys are banned from more than one place?”

“No,” Nya says firmly, before Lloyd can even speak up. “Forget I said anything.”

Skylor will do no such thing, but she decides it’s in her best interest not to pursue it. Nya is not the sort of person to trifle with, and she does want that ramen.

She gets her answer soon enough, anyways.

2. Ninjago City Aquarium

While Skylor has the early shift on Tuesdays, she does get the afternoons off, which is pretty nice for the most part, if it didn’t mean she’d be bored for the rest of the day. So she hits the grocery store and decides to take the long way home, partially because walking is supposed to be good for you, and partially in hopes that one of the ninja will drop in on her again.

She’s not disappointed.

Granted, a minor explosion going off from inside the Ninjago City Aquarium wasn’t exactly what she was expecting today, but the figures in bright red and white arguing furiously outside the security perimeter are par for the course.

It’s a little odd that they haven’t already rushed in yet, Skylor notes, but with the way they’re loudly yelling at each other in the middle of the street, she figures she’ll find out soon enough.

“No, Kai, it is our civic duty to follow the laws put in place for the safety of civilians—”

“Oh come on, you get brainwashed into a slightly-murderous emperor one time and now you’re a stickler for everything?!”

"One time was enough, Kai!”

“Uh, hi guys,” Skylor approaches the two, hesitantly. “Is everything alright?”

“Skylor!” Kai whirls on her, his eyes wild. “Thank FSM, you’ve gotta help us out — they won’t let us in!” He shakes his fist at the aquarium doors, before springing for the security gate. “Let us in, let us in—”

“Shaking the gate like an animal is not going to convince them, Kai!” Zane pleads, prying Kai away. He shoots Skylor an apologetic glance as he wrangles Kai into a gentle chokehold. “We would greatly appreciate your help, if possible. There’s a low-threat criminal with an unfortunate assortment of weaponry who ran into the aquarium, and we’re legally unable to pursue. If you could try to drive him out, perhaps?”

“I — you — you’re what?” Skylor has the weirdest sense of déjà vu, before it’s lost in confusion. Her head swivels from the frustrated expression on Kai’s face to the pleading one on Zane’s, then to the grocery bags in her hands. She looks back up at Kai, who’s now giving her the puppy eyes. Something from inside the aquarium explodes loudly.

“Sure,” she sighs, handing Kai her grocery bags. “Just one guy?”

“Just one guy,” Kai exhales in relief. “You’re a lifesaver, Skylor, I — hey, are these those snack cakes they made to look like us?”

“Yes, eat them and you die,” Skylor hisses. She turns to Zane, holding her hand out half-hesitantly. “Lend a girl some ice powers?”

“Of course,” Zane nods, letting her take his hand. There’s a brief moment as Skylor melds her power with Zane’s, absorbing the icy force and mimicking it to her own — a part of her notes vaguely that it’s stronger than the last time she borrowed it, but she shakes it off, pulling her hand back and tugging the hood of her jacket up, mentally hoping no one writes another article about the possible existence of a cryptid orange ninja after this.

“Alright,” she says. “Be back in five.”

“Thank you,” Zane says fervently, as Kai sputters, “Hey, why didn’t you borrow my power?”

“Because fire is explosive, and you’ve gotta be banned from here for a reason!” Skylor calls back, ice already misting over her fingertips as she sprints inside the aquarium.

“You’d be surprised,” Kai mutters, after her retreating back.

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

“So,” Skylor says, flexing her right hand and wincing briefly. That last right hook she’d thrown at the guy might have been a little too hard, in hindsight. But he was being a jerk, and threatening to set off a bomb near the little seahorses — and it did do the trick, so now the aquarium can have the host of cop cars off its back. Skylor feels pretty accomplished in her good deed for the day, actually. “Why, again, couldn’t you guys have taken care of that yourselves? Not that I minded,” she adds, quickly. Using the ice element had been fun. She’d forgotten what she could do with Zane’s powers.

Kai gives a nervous laugh that’s so fake it almost hurts, especially with the pained expression he makes at the end. Zane just rubs his temple with a hand, looking eternally weary.

“Like I said, we are legally not permitted to enter the aquarium, until…when was it again, Kai?”

“Five years from now,” Kai mutters. “Or whenever the director dies.”

“Yes, five years from now,” Zane repeats, with a dead sort of look in his eyes. “So your assistance was very much appreciated. Thank you.”

“It was no problem, but — wait, hold on, how are you banned from the aquarium for five years?” she stutters. “I mean, I can get Lloyd and Nya with the ramen place—”

“Ha! They told you about that? It was great—”

“Kai, please.”

“—and I can understand Kai, but you, Zane?”

She feels a little guilty for calling him out so bluntly, but it’s Zane. Zane doesn’t just get banned from places, she has to know. And he doesn’t look too upset at the question. Kai looks mildly betrayed, but not that much. They both know Skylor’s point is too valid for him to argue with effectively.

Zane gives another bone-weary sigh. “There is a small chance, that there was a time we were pursuing another villain here, and during that battle, I might have…underestimated the amount of ice I was putting out.” Zane shifts, looking pained. “Which in turn accidentally spread to any bodies of liquid that happened to be nearby at the time, which perhaps were filled with rather expensive aquatic life.”

“You froze a fish exhibit,” Skylor deadpans.

“They were merely in extreme hibernation,” Zane grits out. “They would have been fine, had Kai not tried to fix the ice.”

“Hey, it made sense! I could melt it quickest!”

“Except you didn’t just melt it, did you? No, you had an entire fish fry—”

“The poor fish,” Skylor says, staring at them blankly. “What were they?”

“Like, these rainbow fish, from way up north, I think?” Kai says. “I swear I didn’t make it that hot.”

“The water was boiling, Kai!”

“You fish murderer,” Skylor says, the corners of her mouth trembling with the laugh she’s holding back. Kai glares at Zane, then her, then Zane again.

“I didn’t freeze them solid.”

“Whatever the cause of their death, they died, and we’re banned now,” Zane says, hastily. “End of story. Would you like to take this back to the Bounty, Skylor? I know the others have been wanting to see you, and we can at least offer you tea in thanks.” He eyes the grocery bags Kai’s still holding. “Unless, of course, you wish to return home…”

“Nah, tea sounds good,” she smiles. “Besides, I bought the snack cakes for you guys to try anyways. They’ve got little squashed ninja faces in icing on ‘em.”

“You’re the best,” Kai says, looking somewhat relieved, and oh, he definitely ate one while Skylor was in there. She’s going to have to pay him back for that one…

“Tell me something I don’t know,” she says airily, figuring she’ll take her revenge later. “You can tell me more about the fish massacre on our way back. By the way, Pixal wouldn’t happen to have heard this story, would she?”

Zane gives her a look, and she almost feels bad about it. “I’m going to regret inviting you, aren’t I.”

“Maybe,” she grins. “Jury’s still out.”

3. An Entire Drugstore Chain

Wednesdays are always busy at the noodle shop, for reasons Skylor has yet to figure out. Fridays she understands, but the middle of the week? Nothing kills your drive like knowing you’re going to do this all over again in a day.

It’s good money for the shop though, she reminds herself as she locks up that evening. Any money is good money for the shop, because her stupid dad made sure she’d have a real hole to dig herself out of there, but Wednesday money is always especially good. Even if she ends up leaving the shop late and can’t get the noodle smell from her hair for the next three days.

Normally, she’d trudge home and crash into bed after these kind of shifts. But tonight is different, because she stayed long enough at the Bounty yesterday to get invited to game night, and once you’ve promised the ninja you’re going to bring snacks for Monopoly, you can’t just say no. Not unless you want Lloyd to shoot betrayed glares at you the rest of the month.

Besides, she’s promised Kai she’ll sneak out to the movies with him afterwards, and she can’t just go breaking that promise. Plus, she’s not heartless enough to deny Cole cake when he’s got the most spectacular black eye she’s seen all year bruising up around the left side of his face.

“Lucky hit,” Cole grumbles, after she’s been caught staring too long. She hasn’t wanted to ask him about it, since it seems a sensitive subject and he’s already taking the time to help her pick up (carry) all the snacks. But it’s impossible to miss, even in the dim streetlights they’re walking under, and Skylor cares about her friends, thank you very much. “We busted some drug dealers today, and I got too relaxed.”

“They normally really aren’t any match for you, to be fair,” Skylor offers.

“They weren’t this time either, that’s the sad thing,” Cole says, scrubbing a hand through his thick hair as they wait at the stoplight. “This was all on me. I kinda deserved it.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that bad,” Skylor tries to console him, even though the ugly red at the edge of his eye says otherwise.

Cole gives her a bleak look. “Jay made a joke, and I laughed at it. And then I got hit across the face with a baseball bat, mid-laugh.”

“Ouch,” Skylor hisses through her teeth. “Never mind, that’s bad. Was it a good joke, at least?”

“No, that’s the thing,” Cole groans, as the light finally turns red, allowing them to cross the street. “It was terrible. And I still laughed hard enough not to notice a bat coming for my face.”

Skylor grimaces. “You were just being a good friend, I guess,” she says, and Cole snorts. “Like you are to me, right now,” she continues, glancing ruefully at the shopping list she’s been sent. “I was going to say I had it handled, then I actually looked at everything you guys asked for.”

Cole laughs sheepishly. “Yeah, that’s…that’s us, I guess. Sorry about that. We’re paying for it all, don’t worry.”

“What?” Skylor blinks. Oh no, no way. The ninja have done enough for her, the least she can do is cover a couple bags of popcorn and like ten things of M&M’s. “No, I got it. I owe you guys, anyways.”

Cole bristles. “No way. We owe you, if anything. The amount of times you’ve covered our tab at the noodle shop?”

“How about the amount of times you’ve saved my noodle shop?” Skylor shoots back. “That outweighs a few measly tabs.”

“The only reason we had to save it was because we were there in the first place,” Cole points out. “We’re danger magnets.”

“I’m sorry, I’m the daughter of Chen, remember?” Skylor huffs. “I can attract enemies all by myself.”

“Not as many as we do,” Cole says. “Also! You helped us beat Chen, and get Zane back. We’re eternally indebted to you.”

Skylor narrows her eyes. “Only after I stabbed you all in the back. So I eternally owe you.”

“Bold of you to assume we haven’t all stabbed each other in the back at some point,” Cole scoffs. “Trust me, you’re nowhere as bad as Lloyd — he like, single-handedly ruined our whole month by letting a bunch of snakes out.”

Skylor pauses at that, torn between refuting his argument and asking how in the world Lloyd, of all people, could possibly manage to wreak enough havoc to—

Actually, she doesn’t have any trouble believing that at all. But to be sure— “Lloyd let the Serpentine out? All by himself?”

Cole looses a bit of his fire, and scuffs his shoe awkwardly across the sidewalk. “I mean, we did give him a pretty hard time when he was like, eight years old and homeless and starving, so uh, it might’ve been a little...provoked.”

“FSM’s sake,” Skylor mutters, staring at the sky and trying not to be surprised, because she really shouldn’t by now. “I can’t believe you guys are all still alive.”

“Neither can we, if it helps,” Cole shrugs, grinning. “But you know, technically—”

“If you make another ghost joke, we’re skipping the cake section,” Skylor says, firmly.

Cole sulks. “Jay would’ve made a ghost joke,” he mutters.

“Jay also got you hit in the face by a bat, so his judgement is questionable as it is,” Skylor shakes her head. “Oh! There’s a drugstore right here, wanna hit that instead?”

“Sure,” Cole says. “As long as it’s not…oh.”

Skylor makes it another three steps before she realizes that Cole’s fallen behind. Confused, she turns to stare at him where he’s frozen on the sidewalk, looking up at the bright red drugstore sign and biting his lip.

“Everything okay back there?” Skylor says, wondering if he didn’t get hit in the head harder than he’s let on. Cole nods, but he also takes several steps back out of the streetlight, hiding himself from view of the store.

“Here’s an idea,” he says, suddenly. “How about we go anywhere else.”

Skylor stares at him, a sinking feeling in her chest coupled with the slowly-growing-familiar sense of déjà-vu. “Cole.” He doesn’t meet her eyes, and Skylor sighs. “Please tell me you haven’t been banned from somewhere, too.”

“It’s not just me, Lloyd and Jay also got banned,” Cole snaps, before realizing his mistake and ducking his head.

“You’re kidding me,” Skylor says flatly, looking back at the drugstore, then to Cole. “This is like, the shadiest drugstore on this side on Ninjago. How?”

Cole mumbles something under his breath, and Skylor strains to make it out. “Sorry, what was that?”

“I kind of, um, threw Lloyd through their wall,” Cole mutters again, looking as if he’d like very much to disappear entirely into the street side. Which is funny, because—

His sentence finally registers, and Skylor blinks rapidly. “Wait, you what?”

Cole’s eyes widen, and waves his arms quickly. “Not like — not like Garmadon-throwing him through a wall! He was fine after.”

Skylor has a brief, bizarre kind of moment to digest the fact that there is a distinction for throwing the youngest of their team through a wall, before Cole continues.

“I was aiming for the window — that one right there, see? The robbers were already on the move, so Lloyd was like ‘launch me, Cole’ and I said ‘great idea’, but we were also maybe high on adrenaline at the time and I forgot how much of my lava punch I had going, so I overshot and ended up smashing him through their wall, a little bit.”

“You smashed him through their wall. Just a little bit.”

“Hey, it worked. He took out all five guys in one go and only had a tiny concussion after—”

“How do you even have a tiny concussion—”

“I still don’t get why they were so mad, I mean we stopped the robbery! Sure, half their storefront wall sort of collapsed afterwards, but like, we got their money back.”

“So that’s why they were closed six months for renovations,” Skylor groans into her hands.

Cole crosses his arms, glaring stubbornly at the store’s sign. “It wasn’t six months,” he protests. “It was only like, four. I don’t see how that gives them the right to ban us for life.”

“For life—” Skylor can’t decide if she wants to laugh at him, or cry because her list of places she can hang out with the ninja is shrinking faster than she’d thought possible. She finally blows her breath out, rubs a hand across her face, and glances back down at the shopping list.

“You aren’t banned from the one on eighth street, are you?”

Cole bites his lips. “We’re uh, banned from all of them. It’s a chain store, so…”

“Of course,” Skylor sighs. “Walmart it is, then.”

And if anyone pesters them about being late, she’s going to ask how many times, exactly, somebody’s smashed Lloyd through a wall. Because really. This is getting ridiculous.

4. Bed Bath & Beyond

Thursday is normally her day off, but whatever she had for dinner last night gave her freaky dreams, so Skylor ends up puttering around the shop early that morning just to take her mind off it. It’s a bit overcast outside, and the forecast predicts rain, so Skylor’s already making plans to curl up in her bed and watch movies all day, and maybe get a bit of laundry done.

She should know better.

It’s a commonly known fact that the ninja, Kai especially, would do pretty much anything for their pseudo-little brother. Skylor’s actually heard Kai, on multiple occasion, threaten to die for Lloyd, then immediately try and make it reality. No one ever really appreciates that, Lloyd especially, but Skylor can give him credit for trying.

However, it’s a commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd would do anything for his pseudo-older siblings. It’s an even more commonly overlooked fact that Lloyd is the spawn of satan, and was raised at a boarding school for future villains and terrible children. Combined, these two facts mean that while you should definitely fear Lloyd trying to die for you, you should probably fear him trying to look out for you more, because it’s likely going to end with somebody dead. Or at least the total disruption of your plans for the day, as Skylor opens the shop windows to come face with an absolutely terrifying expression on Lloyd’s face, followed up by a deadly calm “Kai came home sad last night.”

Skylor scrubs at her eyes, and thinks, it’s too early for this.

A while back, when she was still stuck with her jerk of a father, Skylor might have found Lloyd’s part-Oni expression of doom intimidating. Now, however, she just rolls her eyes, and sticks one of the little ‘50% Off!’ stickers she’s been putting on rice cakes across his forehead.

“The dog died in the last movie we saw last night,” she explains, as Lloyd sputters at her.

He pauses, nose wrinkling. “Oh,” he says. “Boo.”

“Yeah,” she says, stepping back and allowing him to neatly front-flip through her window. Darned show-off kid, she thinks despairingly, watching him land perfectly on her freshly-waxed floors.

“Well, you’re good then, I guess,” he says, expression lightening. “That makes sense. How many movies did you make it into this time, by the way?”

“Only four this time,” Skylor sighs, turning to plaster the rest of her stickers on the nearly-expired rice cake packages. “We caught the beginning of that new superhero movie, then the opening fight of some spy movie, and the middle of that one horror movie with the dolls.” Lloyd shudders. “Yeah, Kai wasn’t a fan either. Anyways, we made it into this new romance one, but we ran into a theater employee on the way in and Kai had a guilt attack, so we stayed until the end of that one.”

Lloyd tsks. “Oh, Kai. And he’s so sold on his bad boy image.”

“One day he’ll embrace the fact that he’s just a big softie,” Skylor nods. “One of these days.”

“Yeah, when hell freezes over,” Lloyd snorts. He glances around at the empty shop, then back at her. “Hey, today’s your day off, right?”

Skylor gets a sinking kind of feeling in her stomach at that, alarm bells going off in the back of her head. “It might be,” she says, warily.

“Good,” Lloyd grins. “You should come to Bed Bath and Beyond with us, then.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting that. “Why…would you be going there?” she asks, blankly. Do they have a secret ninja weapon bargain bin she’s been missing out on? Is Bed Bath & Beyond secretly hosting an illegal crime ring she’s been unaware of? Does she need to return the shower curtain rings she bought there last week on basis of being a good citizen?

“Zane froze the blender solid before practice this morning,” Lloyd explains, his mouth twisting a bit. “We were making smoothies and someone accidentally brought up the Never Realm.”

“Ouch,” Skylor winces sympathetically. She’s still not heard the entire story of what went down during the ninja’s jaunt out of realm, besides a whole lot of panicked texts from Pixal and half-explanations from Kai, but she knows it wasn’t fun, especially for poor Zane.

“Yeah,” Lloyd sighs. “So now our blender is dead and we can’t make smoothies anymore, so we’re buying a new one before Nya can start strangling people. Wanna come?”

Skylor eyes him shrewdly. At face, it’s an innocent enough request. She’s certainly been invited to worse places than a household furnishings store, and picking up a blender is quite possibly the simplest thing the ninja have ever asked her to do. Which probably just means it’s going to go horribly and the store’s going to blow up ten minutes in, but hey, Skylor’s day was looking pretty boring anyway.

“Sure, why not,” she shrugs. “Lemme stick the last of these on, and I’m in. Just — hey, no, I’m selling those!”

Lloyd freezes in place, the rice cake package dangling from his fingers. He gives her the most pathetically sad-eyed look she’s ever seen, and not for the first time, Skylor finds herself wondering how this is the same kid who runs a highly-skilled ninja team of unimaginable power.

“Just the one,” she finally relents, because Skylor is a spineless weakling when it comes to puppy eyes, apparently. Lloyd beams, snatching the cakes up happily. “And just because you look like a starving vagrant again.”

“I do not,” Lloyd protests, through a muffled mouthful of rice cake. “I’m just super in shape. I’m jacked as heck.”

Skylor rolls her eyes. “Sure you are, you — hey, I said just one!”

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

So Skylor ends up at Bed Bath & Beyond on her day off, five minutes after the store’s opened for the day, and already wishing she’d slept in later.

Nya brings her coffee, though, and their bright-eyed enthusiasm at reclaiming their means of smoothie-making is infectious, so Skylor finds herself in high spirits as they walk through the store doors, almost to the point where she lets Lloyd go for stealing all her rice cakes.

However, she’s already let him get away with too much as it is, so Skylor decides to take her revenge by ruffling Lloyd’s hair, before informing the sales lady that it’s her “darling little brother’s thirteenth birthday, and he’s finally outgrown his kiddie bed, could you point us to the big kid ones, please?”

Lloyd’s attempts at strangling her are thwarted by Nya as the lady smiles airily, before pointing them to the back, and Zane has to drag Kai along with them before he suffocates on the laughter he’s choking back.

“Family shopping trips are always so much fun,” Jay remarks, as they browse the bedding section, having been successfully distracted by the animal-shaped pillows. They’ve already had to flee the lamp section, after Lloyd and Jay started having a little too much fun, despite Kai’s despair over being robbed yet again of a new lava lamp.

“One day,” he mourns. “One day, I will own another.”

Skylor pats his back consolingly. “I’m sure that’s what everyone else whose lava lamps got smashed by a giant stone colossi say.”

“I still don’t see why we can’t invest in a cappuccino maker,” Nya pouts, as they pass the coffee appliances section. “Look, there’s one on sale, too!”

“Because you can and will abuse the use of it, and then someone will end up going to the hospital for extreme heart rate elevation,” Zane glares pointedly at her. Skylor smothers a laugh as Nya scowls.

“I’m not that bad,” she grumbles under her breath, only for the others to all chime “ice cube incident” in unison. Nya goes a dark shade of red and glares at the floor as if she’s capable of lighting it on on fire with her eyes, but she doesn’t argue back.

Skylor doesn’t even want to know.

“Alright, here are our options,” Cole announces, when they’ve finally fought their way to the blender shelves. “We can get the same one we had, just a little smaller, or we can get this other one that’s half-off.” He squints at both tags. “Having looked at our bank account recently, I vote the half-off one.”

“No way,” Jay argues. “Do you see how small that one is? I can’t make my triple-espresso energy-drink smoothie with that!”

Lloyd stares at him in concern. “That’s…probably a good thing?”

Jay glares at him. “You’re one to talk, Mr. night owl.”

“I’m with Jay, that one’s way too small,” Nya says. “It won’t do.”

“What, and the other one’s better?” Kai shoots back. “Look how cheap it is, I could break this thing in my sleep.”

“The online reviews for both are perfectly fine,” Zane adds, half-heartedly, as if he already knows they’re all going to ignore that particular statement.

“What about this one?” Jay says, his eyes lighting up as he gestures to the extra-large, fancy blender. “Think of all the smoothies we could make, Cole. Think of the milkshakes.”

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose. “We are not investing in some fancy blender, just for you to complain it’s too complicated five seconds in.”

Skylor crosses over to the blenders, glancing at both. “I mean, you could always just return it…later…” She trails off, realizing that everyone’s suddenly gone deadly silent. She looks up, and starts as she comes face to face with the store manager, who is frozen in place, his mouth half-open as he stares at them with wide eyes. Behind her, Skylor is highly aware of six ninja going similarly still, all utterly quiet.

“You,” the manager finally squeaks out. “You are’t supposed to — you can’t be in here, not again—”

“On second thought, let’s get a blender next week,” Cole says, quickly.

“Yeah, I can live without smoothies a little longer,” Jay agrees, rapidly paling.

Skylor’s at a loss. “What’s going—”

Before she can finish that sentence, Kai and Nya both have hands on her arm and pull, hauling her along as they break into a dead sprint for the exit.

“Explain later!” Kai yelps, dodging employees as the manager shakes his fist at them, his yelling following them through the doors.

“I filed six restraining orders! Six!” he shrieks as they slip out. “Do you know how long that took?! Two of them don’t even exist in the legal system!”

Skylor doesn’t miss the incredibly unsubtle fist bump Lloyd and Zane share, nor the near-tears sigh of despair from Cole.

She really, really doesn’t want to know.

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

Except that maybe she does, so there’s nothing stopping her from asking as they walk home, having bought smoothies from the corner store instead (that they are not banned from, which Skylor is starting to think might be miraculous).

“I don’t know why I’m surprised at this point, but how did you get banned this time?” she asks them, after a particularly long sip of smoothie. “Did you demolish half the store there, too?”

The ninja are silent for a moment, all refusing to meet her eyes. Then—

“It was Jay’s fault,” Cole declares.

Jay whirls on him, his expression wounded. “I trusted you,” he whines. “And you — you bed bath and betrayed me.”

“Because you bed bath and blew up the bedding aisle!”

“It was the kitchen electrics aisle, give me some credit.”

“Oh, because that’s so much better.”

“It is, do you know how hard I’d have to be trying to blow up the bedding aisle? It’s all weighted blankets and like, silk and stuff, no conduction at all—”

Skylor returns to her previous stance on not wanting to know, sips her smoothie in silence as they break into loud arguing in the middle of the street, and hopes once again that no one’s getting any pictures of this.

5. Jamanakai Village Candy Shop

Friday’s her busy day, so Skylor’s spared any chaos other than a jammed mixing machine for the day. It doesn’t come to a head until Saturday, when she cautiously accepts the ninjas' invitation to scout out potential terrorist activity in Jamanakai.

The terrorists turn out to be punk kids who got a little too obsessed with the idea of the Golden Master, which is an unfortunate choice of role model for them, when they have to face up to the ninja. Zane just looks mildly annoyed though, and Lloyd stares into the sun for a full minute before rolling his eyes, so the kids make it out alive.

“We weren’t going to kill them, geez,” Jay says. “Maybe just…lecture them, a bit.”

“Oh yeah, lecture them,” Kai scowls, cracking his knuckles. “The Golden Master, are they kidding?”

“To be fair, they don’t have the same experiences we do,” Cole points out, but he doesn’t look too opposed to the knuckle-cracking, either.

“No harm was done,” Zane says, a bit wearily. “We should simply let it go."

“I dunno, I say we should’ve hung them from a roof for a bit,” Lloyd says, evenly.

The other ninja all cringe in unison, except for Nya, who smothers a coughing sort of laugh. Skylor stares at them, bewildered. “Why would you hang them from a roof?”

“Not sure,” Lloyd says, his lips twitching. “Probably because crime doesn’t pay, muchacho, or something like that—”

“Alright, alright, we get it,” Kai says hastily, clapping a hand over Lloyd’s mouth.

“The guys would know,” Nya smirks, ignoring the looks of utter betrayal she’s getting. “That’s what they did to Lloyd, wasn’t it?”

“Nya, why,” Jay moans into his hands.

“You — hung Lloyd from a roof?” Skylor repeats, thrown for a loop. “Why on earth would you do that? What if he like, fell and died?”

“He was fine,” Cole assures her, hastily.

Lloyd is quick to protest, glaring at them. “No I wasn’t, it was literally scarring! Look, I got this scar from scraping my arm when I fell — oh, wait, oops, that one’s from the Never Realm, it’s this one here.” Lloyd winces as he finishes, suddenly looking contrite as he shoots Zane an apologetic look. “The Never Realm one was from Boreal though, don’t worry.”

Zane looks down, his face shadowed. “It was still my—”

“Nuh-uh,” Jay cuts over him, wagging his finger. “Remember the rule?”

Zane hesitates, looking as if he’d very much like to remember no such thing, but he finally slumps, relenting. “Scars dealt to each other while under the influence of malicious possession by person and/or ancient malevolent artifacts do not count, regardless of extenuating circumstances or deep inner psychological issues that may be brought to light during said influence,” he quotes dully, on a defeated sort of sigh.

Skylor doesn’t know whether to be impressed at that, or depressed that it needed existence in the first place.

“Exactly,” Jay nods. “Which means that any scars from you, Zane, or Lloyd — oh, and Kai, I guess — and Cole, technically, with the Hypnobrai that one time— wow, that’s, hm, that’s a lot of us.”

“If you count the dark matter, we’ve all been possessed,” Zane says, drily.

“Not me!” Kai says, mock-cheerfully.

Jay shakes his head. “Nobody got scars while we were on dark matter! I checked.”

“Why are you saying it like we were on drugs or something?”

“Speak for yourself,” Lloyd scowls. “I’ve still got that stupid ankle one.” He glares at the offending ankle, as if it’s personally disappointed him.

“That was the Overlord, not us,” Nya reminds him. “And uh, your dad, technically.”

Lloyd’s scowl just deepens, his eyebrows tilting downwards hotly. “If I had a dollar for every scar that’s from my dad…”

“I hear you,” Skylor sighs. “Dad scars are the worst. They really know where to hit.”

“Right? It’s always personal with them,” Lloyd shakes his head. “Dads are the worst.”

A beat passes before they both realize the others have fallen quiet. Her and Lloyd blink, and Skylor fights back the urge to cringe at the looks they’re now receiving.

“Well,” Jay says, bleakly. “This is a, um, miserable turn.”

“Hey, hey, no sad faces,” Lloyd scolds, reaching for Kai’s face, which is indeed sporting a pathetically teary-eyed kind of look. “Get that look off your face, off, off—”

“I’m not — stoppit — I’m just— hey, stop it— that’s my face, you brat—”

“Guys, c’mon, cut it out, you’re making a scene,” Cole scolds, pulling them both apart. “How about we stop and get ice cream before we go, okay? To like, cheer us up. Because that was completely depressing, no offense, guys.”

“None taken,” Skylor says, as Lloyd nods in agreement. Cole looks relieved, even if Kai’s still looking a little weepy, and he directs them down another street, heading toward a brightly labeled ice cream shop. Skylor can see tiny rows of candy inside, and there are a bunch of kids gathered around the little stand the owner’s set up at the door. It’s a cute place, all in all — the candy looks good, and it seems pretty cheap.

So it makes zero sense that Lloyd, of all people, would suddenly go painfully tense in the middle of the street, and refuse to take another step forward.

“I can’t go in there,” he whispers.

Skylor’s having that sense of déjà vu again. The rest of the ninja trade confused glances.

“Uh, Lloyd?” Kai says, hesitantly. “They sell candy in there, you know.”

“I know,” Lloyd grinds out, his teeth clenched painfully together. “I’ve been in there before.”

“You have?” Cole frowns. “You — oh.” Realization dawns in his eyes, and he’s suddenly biting his lip, holding back laughter. “Oh, I forgot.”

“Forgot wha—” Jay looks between the two of them, then back at the shop, before something sparks in his eyes as well, and he doubles over in laughter.

“Shut up,” Lloyd hisses.

“Why are we laughing at Lloyd,” Skylor finally sighs, as Kai and Zane break into barely-stifled giggles as well, and Nya rolls her eyes.

“So, um,” Lloyd swallows, shifting anxiously from side to side. “You know how I said they hung me from a roof? There might’ve, uh, been a reason for that.”

“Of course there was,” Skylor says.

“I kind of threatened them, a little bit, and uh, tried to steal half their shop, one time.”

“Of course you did.”

“Lloyd,” Nya sighs. “That was forever ago.”

“I stole from them,” Lloyd bites out. “If I show my face in there again, they’ll kill me."

“I highly doubt they will resort to murder, Lloyd,” Zane says, flatly. “Besides, you did not actually succeed in stealing anything, because we caught you and hung you from a roof. Remember?”

“Yeah, and then I came back with the Serpentine, and made it worse!” Lloyd exclaims. “Just go in without me, I’ll sit out here and cry.”

“We’re not just gonna leave you outside,” Kai rolls his eyes. “C’mon, let’s mend some old wounds. Just go inside and apologize.”

“I would literally rather die.”

“Lloyd, seriously.”

“I’ve done it before, don’t test me.”

“Lloyd.”

“You can’t make me, I’ll fight you—”

“Alright, alright, we’ll find a different shop!”

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

“Okay, I have to know,” Skylor finally asks, as they pass the outskirts of the village, heading back to the Bounty. “How many places are you all banned from, in total? Because this is ridiculous. I can’t take you anywhere.”

“I mean, you can’t take us anywhere even without the bans, anyways,” Cole says wearily. “To be fair.”

“We’re not that bad,” Lloyd protests, only to wilt immediately under Skylor’s stare. “There are just…a few places…”

“Zane, how many is it now,” Nya asks, rubbing her temples.

Zane is quiet for a moment, slowly ticking off his fingers as he stares upwards. “Did we ever decide if that one museum counted?”

“The vote was yes,” Jay mutters.

“And the Explorer’s Club, did we decide that one?”

“I’d say that’s a pretty hard ban,” Lloyd winces.

Nya huffs, crossing her arms. “I still say it doesn’t count, because like, everyone’s banned from there, with their stupid stuck-up membership requirements.”

Zane takes this into account, his eyebrows furrowing. “That leaves us with…seventeen places we cannot return to, I believe? Unless I missed one.”

Skylor’s left wordless, gaping at them. She knew there was a lot, but seventeen—?!

“I’m almost a hundred percent sure we’re also banned from the Never Realm,” Kai points out. Zane gives him the iciest look Skylor’s ever seen. Kai simply shrugs. “What? Just stating the facts.”

Lloyd frowns. “I don’t think we are? I mean, Akita wouldn’t—”

“Oh, Akita wouldn’t,” Jay cuts over him, a gleam in his eyes. “Would she, casanova?”

Lloyd goes scarlet, sputtering. “I told you, she kissed me! On the cheek! I just stood there, you can’t—” He buries his face in his hands, and despite her amusement (and rampant curiosity, because this is Lloyd and kissing), Skylor feels bad for him. “I can’t believe I ever told any of you about that,” he whines, sounding tragically upset with himself.

“You were the one having a mental breakdown over it,” Nya reminds him, almost gently. “You need to work on setting boundaries, bud.”

“It’s not like I didn’t tell her I had horrible issues with romance!” Lloyd throws his hands up, frustrated. “Because I did, in painfully honest detail—”

“And yet you refuse to open up to me about it,” Kai says plaintively.

“Turn into a dog for a bit, you might get lucky,” Lloyd grumbles.

Skylor doesn’t want to know. She really, really doesn’t want to know. “Well,” she finally says. “I do know one place you aren’t banned from.”

They all look up at her, and Skylor shakes her head. “You fly me back to the shop in time for dinner, and noodles are on the house tonight.”

Six faces brighten considerably. “Seriously?” Cole says. “Skylor, you’re an angel.”

“Seriously, the best person ever—”

“Our favorite cryptid orange ninja there ever was—”

“Yeah, yeah, keep flattering me,” Skylor sighs, trying not to smile, and failing woefully.

She doesn’t know why she still hangs out with these people, getting banned from everywhere in the city. What a bunch of nerds.

#lego ninjago #ninjago #lloyd garmadon #kai smith #nya smith #jay walker #cole brookstone #zane julien #skylor chen #i really have no explanation for this at all #except that i wanted to give skylor more love than i've given her #my fic

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sunshine-pup-fics · 4 years

Text

R E C K L E S S // Iida x Reader

A fic? After over 6 months of writers block?? When my last fic was posted before Christmas??? WHO KNEW I HAD IT IN ME!?

Not me.

I’ve been struggling to focus on even just one short Oneshot long enough to get it done... Quarantine sounds like the perfect time to get stuff done, but I've been bogged down in work. I have no idea when the next fic will be done. I don’t even know if people read this blog anymore. This was actually requested on my Wattpad upload of these fics, but its something! Hope I still got the skills-

WARNINGS: Angst, implications of death, a heated argument.

Working hard. Studying diligently. Striving the best and carrying the Iida name. That's what was important to him. He had to uphold his reputation, his stature. Who else was meant to keep the class in check, if not him? And admittedly, he'd been doing well so far. He was acing his studies and was on track with his quirk training. Nothing was supposed to get in his way of becoming a Hero. So it became a concern when he started to find himself... distracted. It started with casual glances. Brief ones whilst he waited for the next notes, or before he left the classroom for lunch, or when he passed them in the hallway, or when- okay, so more times than he'd like to admit. But then it moved to small talk. Asking about their day or reminding them of the weather when they left class.

Soon enough, he found himself writing their name neatly in the margins of his notes. He was embarrassed, appalled even, by his own behaviour, and even rewrote the entire page of notes when Izuku had asked to borrow them. He knew this was unacceptable. He could not, would not, let this... complication, get in the way. He couldn't risk it. Not when he was already on the path to what he had worked toward for so long.

Yet after a gruelling 4 months after his initial realisation, he was still trying to ignore it, snuff it out, he was going absolutely mad. He had tried not speaking to them, but that lead to an entire ordeal on its own. He tried just ignoring the feelings, 'digesting the butterflies', but it just made him more aware of how they made him feel. Every day was its own battle against himself. How were you ever supposed to win that?

So after much deliberation, he resigned himself to just tell them. It was the only logical conclusion to this mess. No matter the outcome, it would be over, right? Either he'd gain their affections and have the most astonishing person by his side, Or, and he didn't want to think about this outcome to much, he'd be rejected. Told he wasn't good enough. Perhaps to stoic. Maybe he wasn't smart enough. Could he considered too over the top? Possibly he overthought things.

But he wasn't good enough. He knew that. But he had to do it for his own sake. So he could accept his fate and move on. At least things would go back to the way they were before. He could just focus on being a hero again.

Exhaling his breath, along with his nerves, Iida tentatively knocked on their door. There was a muffled "coming" from inside, followed by footsteps. The door cracked open, the hallway lights illuminating a small portion of the unlit room. (Y/n)s face appeared through the crack, a warm smile forming on ther lips as they realised who it was. They quickly slipped outside, closing the door behind them. Iida quietly cleared his throat, gaze shifting to stare at the wall beside their head. "What can I do for you Iida?" Their voice was calming to him, it nearly left him speechless. Nearly. "Ah, I was just wondering- well, seeing how well you've worked recently—" He paused, earning himself a inquisitive look from the (h/c). He cleared his throat, refocusing his gaze on them. "I would like to take you out to eat on Friday night." (Y/n) raised a brow, but otherwise had smug look on their face. "I wasn't aware the class rep was rewarding us for working diligently." Their words held no mockery or ill will, but Iida still felt his stomach churn over the words all the same. He lightly shook his head, forcing a polite smile. "With how much you've improved, I thought it would be a good reason for praise." (Y/n) nodded along. "Alright, sounds good to me. Friday it is. Though you..." They trailed off for a moment, letting their gaze slip to the floor. "You know I have to go visit my parents first, right?" Iida simply nodded, a sincere glint in his eyes, perfectly framed by his glasses. He raised a hand over his heart and bowed his head. "Of course, I would never dream of taking that time away from you." At his sweet answer, (Y/n) could barely contain the warmth that spread through them. "Can't wait then."

Iida went over his outfit again in the mirror. This wasn't too flashy was it? Or was it not flashy enough? They were just going to a simple diner... Why was he so worried about this? He couldn't stop thinking about (Y/n). Had he already messed up? Asking them out... would it have been better if he continued to squash his feelings? Surely not. He really did truly want to be there for them, but he knew that relationships cost time and effort, which was not something he had a lot spare of at UA. He glanced at his phone. He had another 20 minutes before (Y/n) usually got back, but he figured he'd go wait in the common room... maybe it'd keep his mind off it.

Heading down, he noticed everyone crowded around the TV. It was deathly silent besides some news reporter rambling nonsense. He wanders over, peering over the heads of his classmates. There was a large red banner at the bottom with "BREAKING NEWS" scrolling past every few seconds. He leant over to Uraraka, who was seated on one of the couch armrests. "What's this about?" She jumped, gaze shooting to him as she let out a yelp. A few others turned to look at them, looking overly alarmed to see Iida standing there, but they said nothing. "U-Uh.. Well... We were watching some TV when some news came in..." she trailed off. "There was a villain attack on a store near here. It usually wouldn't be a big deal but we heard Aizawa get called out for it so... we're just uh... watching to see whats the problem." Uraraka stiffly turned back to the others, returning their gazes. Iida turned his attention back to the screen, at just the perfect time. "A young girl near the scene spring into action at the beginning of the villains attack, bravely intercepting one of the villains acid attacks and using her quirk to save those nearby, nearly at the cost of her life. Further inquiry is needed, but the girl has reported to be one of the infamous students of 1A attending UA." The class watched in silence as their classmate, and friend, flashed up on screen, mostly hidden behind a very angry looking Aizawa. The silence became deafening. Everyone was too afraid to breathe. "They acted quickly, managing to save a small family who otherwise may have been lost." "W-Well... they look alright. I'm sure they're fine." Deku muttered, anxiously rubbing the nape of his neck. "What do you mean theyre fine. That reporter just said they nearly lost their life." Iidas voice boomed throughout the common room. Everyone looked to him in varying degrees of surprise, fear and sympathy. He blinked rapidly, exhaling a deep breath before averting his gaze. No one knew what to say. Uraraka reached out, gently patting his arm. Deku scooted closer, stumbling over his words as he tried to reassure his friend. "Look-" Mina pointed at the screen and everyones focus fell back to it. "It said they left the premises a while ago for safety reasons. If Aizawa is there then they'll probably come back here right?" The group nodded. "Unless they have to go in for questioning. They did use their quirk without permission and get involved in a villain attack-"

The group went dead silent as they heard the front door swing open. First to enter was Aizawa, somehow looking more tired than usual, followed by a rather downcast looking (Y/n). Midoriya opened his mouth to speak, but was silenced by a glare from their teacher. "I'm sure you're aware of what happened. However it doesn't concern you lot... for once. Make sure you get to bed on time." He turned to (Y/n), cold gaze as he stared down at them. "I'll be dealing with you tomorrow..." He averted his gaze, before placing a gentle hand on her shoudler. "Good work." And then he left.

(Y/n) only glanced toward the group, hands clutched to their chest and a downcast look on their face. They said nothing, only quickly averting their gaze before heading toward the stairs. "(Y/n)" They paused, turning their gaze toward the voice. Iida was staring them down across the room. They opened their mouth like they were going to speak, only to quickly close it and bite their tongue. They made no movement toward the stairs however. Iida briskly walked over. "What are you doing?" (Y/n) clicked their tongue. "Going to my room. Kinda had a rough night." They lingered there for a second, squinting at him. "Ah-" Their face lit up in realisation before it fell back to a frown. "Sorry, but I think I'll have to forego our plans." Iida shook his head. "That doesn't matter. I just wanted to know what you were thinking." His mouth was set in a thin line. "What... What I was thinking? What- oh. Right. When I 'leapt bravely into action'? I was saving someones life." Their voice was low, and their eyes were set. They were challenging him. "What you did was not right. As a UA student you should know better than to pull stunts like that." (Y/n) flinched away from him. "Excuse me? I saw someone in trouble, and I acted. I would have done it whether I attended UA or not." Iida frowned. Both their voices were beginning to raise. "Then that proves you're not ready to become a hero. You have to think about yourself too." "Sorry, I wasn't aware you were the one who decided who should and who shoudnt become a hero now. I'll be sure to listen to your advice next time!" "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't have risked yourself like that without at least calling for backup or alerting proper heroes!" "It was the logical thing to do! I couldn't just leave them there!" "You should be ashamed! It was a reckless attempt, and you were lucky no one was hurt!" "That's what heroes do, Iida! We act when no one else can!" They accusatorially stabbed his shoulder with their finger, glaring at him. "That doesn't mean you don't think things through and act in haste! You clearly didn't actually plan any of it!" He leaned forward, towering over them. "Oh what? So now I'm incompetent because I saved someone's life?" their glare hardened and they flung their arms out. "Nearly at the expensive of your own life! It's imbecilic!" "Oh I'm sorry 'Mr go off and fight a known hero killer alone head on', I didn't hear you over your hypocrisy!" "That was a mistake, at least I understand that! You know that situation could have gone wrong and have ended up the same as with your family, correct?" "You. Leave. Them. Out. Of. This." They glared daggers at him, words dripping with malice. "Tell me I'm wrong. You shouldn't have taken that risk!" "I can't believe this. You're so invested in scolding me for one stupid mistake! Maybe I shouldn't have done it, but I did! I risked my life for another because I couldn't bare to watch another family be torn apart by grief as mine did. Is that it, are you happy now?" "N-No! Of course not!" "What else do you want then? Why do you even care?" "Because I'm worried!" "So is everyone else, but I don't see them interrogating me! I've already been chewed out by Aizawa too! Everyone else understands something had to be done! Why is this so important to you?" "Because I was scared I might loose you! Scared I'd hear the news the love of my life had died!" The room went silent. Iida closed his eyes for a moment, hauling a deep breath before facing his words. (Y/n) stood, body shaking as they hauled breaths. They blinked rapidly, emotions swelling behind their eyes. After a moment longer, they finally dropped their arms to their sides, lowering their head in defeat. "And to think I believed that 'the love of my life' would support me. That you would understand better than anyone why I had to do it. Oh how wrong I was." They summoned as much hatred as they could, staring Iida down without falter. And then they left. They spun on their heel, nearly sprinting out of the common room into the night. The few classmates had long been silent, unable and unwilling to butt into their argument. Uraraka tentatively inched closer, leaning sideways to try and catch Iidas gaze. He didn't even notice her. His shoulders shook with each of his breaths, weighed down by his own guilt and his eyes glistened behind his glasses. "Iida-" Uraraka began to speak, voice nothing more than a whisper, but she was cut off. "I know... I know." He hauled a deep breath, straightening his back as he set his gaze on the exit. To hell with his reputation. His studies, his work. He only needed to make sure they was okay.

He didn't even need his quirk to catch up with (Y/n). They'd collapsed on one of the benches, sobs and cries muffled by their hands as they vainly attempted to stop. He could hear them muttering to themself, vile comments on their idiocy. He felt his heart splinter, an oceans worth of regret slamming over him as he realised he had done this. He was the cause of their suffering. Their tears and their cries. Iida staggered toward them, subconsciously reaching out. Upon his movement, (Y/n)'s gaze snapped to him. For a moment, all he could see was the hatred and anguish... and then it slipped away. Scrambling to their feet, they closed the gap between them. He barely had time to react before they'd collapsed into him, smushing their face into his shirt to hide their face, balling the fabric in their fists. Iida instinctively wrapped his arms around them. He'd make up for what he'd done, even if it cost him everything else.

#iida x reader #iida tenya #mha x reader #bnha x reader #iida tenya x reader #x reader #mha #bnha #my hero academia x reader #saladwrites #im back

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satoruvt · 5 years

Text

clueless

i dont know if confessing your love counts as “flirting” but we’re goin w it anyways

pairing → bakugou katsuki x reader

word count → 1074

request → Can I please have 13. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?” with Bakugou? I'm not sure if you'll see this bc I've sent some messages on anon before, telling u how much I loved reading ur works, but I don't think u got them. Anyway, you're an amazing writer and I look forward to reading more from u!! Thank u very much for sharing ur works with us and opening ur requests 💚

song inspo → the kids aren’t alright by fall out boy

Weeks. It’s been weeks of you complimenting Bakugou to no end, making playful banter with him, initiating the slightest form of physical contact. And he’s so fucking oblivious that he doesn’t notice. You’re practically throwing yourself at him.

Kirishima, having taken the place of your wingman, had told you a while back that Bakugou was more than interested in you - or, at least, as interested as Bakugou could be. You knew Kirishima wouldn’t lie to you so you started subtly - comments of “you looked good out there!” when he got back from class battles, asking if he wanted to hang out. A week had passed with no response, so you decided maybe you just needed to be a little more… extroverted with your attempts.

At this point, you’re not even sure if wearing a shirt that said “date me, Bakugou” would catch his attention. Why did you have to like someone so dense when it comes to romance?

“I don’t know what to do anymore, Eijirou,” you groan, laying with your back on the floor and your legs over your bed. “He’s so clueless! I’m honestly thinking of asking Kaminari for some of his stupid pick up lines.”

Kirishima offers you a sympathetic smile, sitting cross-legged on your floor. “Honestly, I think all you can do is just tell ‘im how you feel.”

“I don’t even know if that would work.”

He snickers, and you sit yourself upright, climbing over yourself to gather his hands in yours. “Help me, oh faithful wingman,” you plead, earning a laugh in return.

“Aren’t you guys supposed to go get party supplies?” Kirishima asks, and you furrow your brows for second. He raises an eyebrow at you. “For the surprise party we’re throwing for Sero. His birthday’s in, like, five days, dude. We assigned roles for the party weeks ago.”

Shit, he’s right.

“Anyways,” he continues, and you start to see where he’s going with this. “While you’re out, why don’t you just tell him?”

The initial embarrassment of coming to terms with your feelings has long vanished, and that confidence mixed with the desperation to get Bakugou to notice that you’re actually flirting with him… straight up saying it doesn’t sound as bad as it did a few weeks ago.

“You’re a genius, Eiji.”

“Not really, I failed my exams.”

By the time you manage to convince Bakugou to shop for the party supplies with you, it’s early evening. The sky melts from cooler hues to red and orange and yellow, illuminating Bakugou’s face in honey. You kind of hate to admit it, but he’s really pretty, and you trip over yourself a few times instead of watching where you’re going.

“What the hell are you staring at me for?” Bakugou asks, and you blink into you world again.

“Nothing,” you reply, then, with a smile, “you just look really good right now.”

He doesn’t say anything - not even a blush. God dammit. You sigh, paying more attention to where you’re walking. There’s a dollar store only a few blocks away from the dorms, so you decided to walk there. The air is cooling as the sun goes down.

When you step into the store, it’s almost completely empty, save for a few people here and there. A few kids run around aimlessly, playing with toys their parents haven’t bought yet. The sight makes you smile, even if they’re being a little disruptive.

You grab a cart and Bakugou leads the way to the party aisle, which is full of multi-colored decorations. Plates, some stupid party hats, a few confetti poppers...

“What colors should we get?” You ask, leaning on the cart. “Should we just stick to, like, his costume colors? Orange, black, white?”

You expect a snarky comment back, but when you look at him from the shelf in front of you, Bakugou’s staring at something else. You furrow your brows, but then you notice that it’s All Might - tacky party decorations, sure, but that’s definitely him. You’re about to tease him softly about it, but when you actually pay attention you notice the starstruck look in his eyes and oh, did it get a little bit hotter?

It’s now or never, your mind sings to you, and before you know it you’re speaking.

“Hey, Bakugou.”

“What?”

The words fall off your tongue like honey, smooth and true, and you’re surprised that you’re just that smitten for him. “I really like you.”

He meets your eyes and you see his face go pink, and then your face is suddenly getting hot and you don’t even have it in you to stammer an excuse out, only going silent and looking down at your shoes.

“Are you… are you flirting with me?”

You blink, looking back up at him. “You finally noticed?”

“What do you mean finally?”

“I’ve been flirting with you for weeks now!” You exclaim, and Bakugou only stares at you. Your voice softens when you speak again. “I’ve liked you for weeks now.”

“Oh,” is all he says, and a spike of anxiety strikes through you as you think about whether or not he feels the same. He’s silent, now, but you can still see the blush over his face. You figure you shouldn’t rush him abut it, and instead gather up all the decorations you need for the party. Neither of you speak, even through the check out.

“So, um,” you begin, fidgeting with the plastic bag in your hands. The sun’s completely gone down, now, casting shadows in every corner. Your footsteps are light, uneven with Bakugou’s as you walk. You stare straight ahead, too nervous to look directly at him. “Do you… feel the same? Do you like me too?”

A beat of silence passes and then you finally will yourself to look at Bakugou, and he quickly hides his face from you once he notices, walking a little bit ahead of you. His voice is as loud as ever, clear and to-the-point, but there’s something different about it. It’s warmer, almost.

“...That’s a given, isn’t it?” He says, and looks back at you over his shoulder. “I wouldn’t have spent time with you if I didn’t feel the same.”

A dreamy smile finds its place on your lips, and Bakugou turns back to look ahead. You walk an extra few steps to catch up with him, warmth spreading through your chest when you grab his hand and he doesn’t pull away.

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buckysdumbmetalarm · 5 years

Text

Panic Attack

A/N: I guess this is a series now. You can read the first part here and the most recent part here. Dedicated to @morsmordrethings for being an awesome friend and writer!

Summary: Bucky comforts you after a hard battle causes a panic attack.

Warnings: It’s after a battle so some mentions of screaming and, as the title suggests, it’s a panic attack. Also a bit of fluff at the end.

Word Count: 1155

One, two. One, two.

The bag was hard against your fist as you worked your way through training.

One, two. One, two.

It had been a hard mission, too hard, and it had you sitting at your nerve’s end. There didn’t need to be so much violence. If only you had been better, faster, smarter. You could have stopped them.

You could still hear the screams.

One, two. One, two.

Why couldn’t you be better? Why couldn’t you be smarter?

“Hey!” Bucky’s voice jarred you out of your thoughts. You looked up and tried to look at him, but your vision blurred. You could make out his silhouette. “There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” His silhouette paused close enough to touch you. You flinched.

“Here I am,” you said quietly. It was hard to find your voice. Words seemed a mile away. Just like your strength.

“You wanna talk?” You and Bucky had a deal. You usually needed to talk after a mission. Bucky usually just needed you to sit with him. Sometimes you switched. You agreed that after missions, you gave each other the support you needed. Bucky wanted to give you the support you needed and he heard from Scott that it was a very difficult mission.

You opened your mouth to tell him you were fine, everything was fine, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t breathe. Your knees went weak and it took all your remaining energy to keep upright. “Bucky,” you whispered, shaking your head, trying as hard as possible to clear your sight. “C-can’t breathe.”

“Can you walk, doll? What do you need?” You could barely make out his features twist in concern.

“Help.” He understood and, without a second of hesitation, he scooped you into his arms, holding you close to his chest. If you were more cognitive, this would have flustered you. This panic attack was much stronger than your attraction to your friend.

In a matter of minutes, he brought you back to your room. He set you on your bed (you gave a small whine) while he closed the door and dimmed the lights. He came back to kneel at the bed in front of you. “What do you need?”

“I-I don’t know,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath.

“Can I touch you again?” You nodded. He moved onto the bed next to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. The touch broke something in you and suddenly the small grasp you had on sanity snapped. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t speak. All you could hear was the screams. Your breathing quickened and Bucky became worried you would start hyperventilating. “Hey, doll, you gotta listen to me.” His voice cut through the screams. “You gotta breathe. In...out...in...o-”

You sobbed. It came on fast and interrupted Bucky’s breathing exercises. Suddenly you were inconsolable and all you could feel was panic, fear, and pain. Bucky grabbed you again. He shifted so his back was against the wall and you were laying in his lap, head resting on his shoulder.

“I w-wasn’t good enough,” you said between sobs. “Too many people got hurt, too many people s-suffered because I wasn’t good enough.” You buried your head into his shoulder and his metal arm began tracing soothing circles against your back.

“That’s not true at all,” he murmured, resting his chin on top of your head. “Scott told me nobody got hurt.”

“He’s just--just lying,” you said, squeezing your eyes closed and trying so hard to control your breathing.

“Why would Scott do a thing like that?” he asked.

Steve walked by the door at the moment and opened it, concerned by the sounds of your sobs. When he saw you wrapped up in Bucky, he knew you would be okay, and quickly and quietly closed the door again. The two of you were in your own world, so you both missed his small smile.

“He just w-wants to pretend that I’m not just a waste of space and a huge--a huge mess!” You curled tighter into yourself and into Bucky, trying to shut out the screams.

“Now that’s not true at all,” he said. “You want to know what we call you?”

Your sobs quieted to silent tears, but you still struggled with your breathing. “What?”

“The Strongest Avenger,” he answered, a small smile on his face, “Much to Thor’s displeasure.”

You let out a quiet laugh. “No, really, what?”

“I’m serious!” Bucky said. He continued to trace circles on your back and it worked wonders. The soft touch of his hand and the warm protection of his body was enough to help you even your breathing. “You might not be physically stronger than Banner when he, y’know, goes green, but you have the strongest heart out of all of us, including Tony. And you know how big his heart can be.”

“You’re just pulling my leg,” you said. As much as you wanted to believe him, there was still a small part of you that couldn’t, that could only think of the poor job you did. It was easier to block out now, but it was still there.

“No, Y/N, I’m not,” he sighed. “You’re so strong, it’s incredible.” He shifted his head so his cheek rested against your head. “I wish I could be as strong as you are. And you do it all the time. It’s no wonder this mission hit you harder than the rest.”

You sat in silence for a moment, letting him hold you as the tears slowed, then stopped. “I made your shirt wet,” you eventually muttered, face relaxing, though your eyes never opened.

Bucky could hear the sleep in your voice and gently laid you down. “It’s not a big deal.” He moved to the edge of the bed and stopped when your hand gripped his sleeve.

“Not yet.” He smiled and laid down next to you. You settled into his chest and he wrapped his arm around you once again. It didn’t take long before you fell asleep, drained from the battle, drained from your emotions. Bucky kissed your forehead and laid quietly with you until sleep took him.

Steve came by the room a few hours later, to check on you, and found both of you asleep, tangled together. He closed the door just as he did the last time, his smile wider now on his face.

When you woke a few hours later, Bucky was still asleep next to you. It took you a moment, but then you remembered before, the crying, the pain. Bucky was there with you the whole time. He talked you down, he soothed you, and then, surprisingly enough, he slept with you. Your heart sped up as you realized how together you were, but you didn’t have the heart to wake him. You settled back against him and smiled.

And slowly sleep overtook you once again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine

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ann-stay · 4 years

Text

Brown soft light, fighting the dark shadows-Seungmin

Warnings/au: sadness, angst (?), soft, idk I wrote this ages ago but enjoy!

Please Note: this used to be a W**j*n story however due to recent events I no longer support him, if I’ve missed a part in here where I’ve used his name and didn’t change it please let me know.

She pushed herself away from the desk and slide in the chair to the other side of the room. Groaning, she stood and exited the plain room. She headed to the kitchen for something good, something that could ease her frustration.

It had been like this for a few days, her continuously having to leave her laptop out of anger and frustration. She just couldn't write. She wasn't burnt out, no, she'd already recovered from that. She had major writer's block. Every idea that came to her head didn't flow nicely, nor could she put it into words on the screen.

All knowledge of writing had left her the past few days and it annoyed her to the point where she could break down. She was an online author, so updates were vital to her work. Without updates, she couldn't get views, without views, she didn't get paid. She questioned why she chose such a difficult path.

Swinging the fridge open she grabbed the chocolate and slammed the door shut. She hopped onto the kitchen bench and let her legs hang. It was her favourite thing to do, sit there and think. The bench was surprisingly comfortable and bought a warm homey feeling. She'd done this since she was little.

Taking a bite from the chocolate she looked about her apartment. It was a medium-sized apartment that she lived alone in. Although, her boyfriend would sleep over most nights when he was free. Which he wasn't often, but he made the time.

As far as a normal human could see, her life was good. Dream job, good boyfriend, nice apartment. It was perfect. But it wasn't. She struggled much more then anyone would be able to see. She had struggled with her own mind since she was a young girl. It got to the point, she could hide it from everyone-including the people that were closest to her.

Heck-she'd even isolate herself for a bit and people still wouldn't notice. All except one. Unfortunately, (or fortunately, as she would think) she had gotten better hiding it from said person.

It was scary for her to hide it though. The one person willing to help and that notices everything-she shuts out his help. Every moment she does she knows it hurts him. She hates that. She hates hurting him. So, she continues. Continues to cut him out more and more, hoping that he'll leave and find a better person.

But she doesn't want him to leave. She wants to curl up in his arms and stay there forever. She wants that warmth, love, and support. She wants to feel happy and content.

However, every waking happy moment she has it always turns bad. A light shower of rain, enough to even see a rainbow, suddenly turning into a raging storm that could tear lives apart. But she loves the rain.

The sound of it hitting the glass window. The cold calm feeling it brings with it. The way she would have to wear a sweater every time it rains so she can be comfy and warm. Drinking hot chocolate and watching the droplets fall.

"I don't deserve it..." she mumbled.

The chocolate fell from her hand onto the bench space beside her. A few tears pricking at her eyes as every dark thought seeped their way into her mind. Lacing her brain with its toxins. The plague of the mind. Except this plague is deadlier. Killing someone with a voice in their head. Killing them slowly as they still live. Yet they don't live. They are alive, but they aren't living. As if death himself inhabited them.

A sob escapes her mouth, getting off the bench, making sure she doesn't fall. Her back sliding down the cupboard doors. She pulls her knees as close to her chest as she can, her chubby body making it hard to hug them comfortably.

More sobs leave her trembling lips. Furiously wiping the bucket loads of tears. The lump in her throat making the crying just the more painful. Though she manages to shut them up, the tears were the only thing to show for her breakdown.

The lump in her throat grows, an empty yet full stomach of emotion. Pain. That's all she feels. She didn't know what pain it was. It was like the world had come crashing down even if it hadn't. A feeling that you'd get when you were having fun and then all that happiness was sucked out of you. Exhaustion. Yet it was way more complex and stronger than those feelings. It was a feeling you'd have to experience to understand but a feeling no one should ever experience or understand.

She wanted to scream.

She wanted it to end.

...

Keys rattled.

...

A door clicked, unlocking.

The girl stood quickly and rushed to the bathroom. Forcing her tears away. Rubbing at her face rapidly. Wash, towel, wash towel-repeat a million times. She looked at herself in the mirror.

"Hey, babe?" Her boyfriend called out.

"In the bathroom! I'll be out in a second!" She shouted back.

She smiled a few times, trying to get her face into a 'normal' position rather than one that looks exhausted and broken. The door opened and she stepped out.

"Where are you?" She asked.

"Just in the kitchen," he replied.

She followed his voice and found him taking a bite of her chocolate that was left on the bench. She smiled. He was too cute.

"Come here~ I missed you so much," he whined.

The girl laughed at him before walking over and getting engulfed in a warm hug.

"I missed you too Bubba~"

The boy chuckled at her, lifting her up onto the bench. He stood between her legs and held her at her waist. Her arms rested around his neck, playing with the back of his hair absentmindedly. Their eyes locked and the once happy smile on his face was replaced by a frown and furrowed brows.

"What's wro-"

"You've been crying."

"No, I haven't."

He looked at her, raising his brow.

"You think I don't notice these things?" he asked.

"Notice what things?" She asked, trying to act innocent.

"Things such as your face being slightly red in parts. When you cry your lips get red in patches. Your nose and cheeks also have red patches. Your eyes are slightly glossed over because you can never get the tears all out. Heck, your eyes don't match your smile...babe, what's wrong?"

She lost it. The tears instantly fell, the same world crashing feeling returned. Her head hit his shoulder/neck area and she sobbed, arms wrapping around him tighter. He was taken back for a split second, quickly recovering and pulling her closer.

He whispered sweet nothings into her ear, rubbing her back to comfort her. Her pain, so strong, it filled the apartment to the point her boyfriend could feel it. Like a dark shadow flowing off her body and covering everything. The homey feeling disappearing, replaced with emptiness.

He hated it. Not what his girlfriend had caused but what she was going through. He knew she was pushing him away. He knew that she knew it hurt him. But he also knew that all she needed was some space. He wasn't new to this.

Her isolating herself. In fact, it was good for her to a certain point. The isolation was her recharge. But at some point, in the recharge she always hits, so to say, a malfunction. A percentage where she was so close to being good yet so far.

In this time, he knew to be there for her. To hug her and support her. Not to ask what's wrong but to be there for her. If she needs to talk about it, she will-after asking if it's okay to talk with him a million times.

The sobbing quietened. Soon it stopped. His shirt drenched, but he could care less. A weight lifted from his shoulder. His eyes met her tired and broken ones. They said something, an apology. An apology from breaking down, for being weak, for possibly ruining his shirt, for the toxicity, ruining their night and so much more.

But in his eyes, they held forgiveness and care. He forgave her for everything she apologised for, whether she should've apologised for it or not. He cared about her more then she knew.

She did know though. She just couldn't understand or accept it fully.

They rested their foreheads together, soft breathes tickling each other's faces.

"The voices returned..." she mumbled, eyes closed.

He studied her now calm features, the way her soft lips moved.

"What were they saying this time?"

"Everything."

She opened her glossy eyes and stared into his. No one said anything. They just stared at each other, holding one another close together.

And soon enough, the warmth returned. Her boyfriend's warmth started radiating onto her and their apartment. A soft brown light battling the dark shadow. A sad smile appeared on the girl's face. Then a happy one on her boyfriends.

"You know, your eyes are really cute. And the small scar on your lips is adorable~" He cooed.

A blush etched its way on her cheeks.

"Oh, shush it."

They both laughed.

"Do you want to know something?" She asked.

"Hm?" he hummed in response.

"You, Mr. Kim Seungmin, are the best boyfriend in the world. My Bubba."

She scrunched her face up and squished his cheeks between her hands. Seungmin laughed widely, finding it cute how her face and nose scrunched.

"And you, Ms. Kim, are the best girlfriend in the world. My adorable koala bear."

He returned the favour and squished her cheeks. The girl flushed red and groaned, pushing his hands away.

"Yah! I'm not Ms. Kim...yet. And I'm not a Koala! What are you doing home anyway? I thought you had a meeting?" She asked.

"Soon you'll be, and I can call you a Koala because you sleep a lot and are from Australia. But anyway, Chan canceled it because half of the boys are sick," Seungmin explained.

He placed his hands back onto her waist but holding her closer still. His girlfriends face turned from happy flushed to concerned.

"Why didn't you text me?! We need to go over there so I can help take care of them! I can't believe you left Chan and the others by themselves-" She jumped off the bench and move around frantically looking for her shoes- "They can barely take care of themselves when they aren't sick! Hurry-"

Seungmin hugged her from behind, stopping her from moving.

"No."

"What do you mean 'no' mister. Your friends are sick and I'm worried!"

"I said no. We are staying here together. If Chan needs help, he'll text me-or you. He always messages you first in an emergency remember?"

The girl groaned and nodded.

"Fine..."

"Yay! Now let's cuddle!"

He picked her up, causing her to squeak, and carried her to their bed. He sat on the bed and moved under the cover, still holding his girlfriend.

"Hey! You can't just-"

Seungmin placed a soft, loving kiss on her lips. She smiled and melted into the kiss. When they pulled apart Seungmin had a smirk on his lips.

"Meanie, you can't just shut me up by kissi-"

He kisses her once again. But this time when they pull back, she rolls her eyes at him and turns to face her back against his chest. She cuddles closer to him, pulling his arms around her more, loving the feeling of the warmth.

He laughed at her, nuzzling his face into her shoulder/neck area. Causing giggles to erupt from her at the tickling feeling. Happiness and warmth filled them both.

The storm that was raging moments ago now calm and showing rainbows. The toxic thoughts and feelings now flew far away, unable to hurt either one of them.

There they cuddled, in the middle of the bed wrapped in blankets. Nothing playing. No music, no talking, no sound. Just their breathing and the small kisses here and there. The room was dim as the light faded and the street outside lit it up. It had started to rain, the droplets hitting the window, creating that amazing sound.

Seungmins arms were wrapped tightly around his girlfriend. Loving her squishy, slightly chubby and small figure. The girl rested her head on his chest, her hands resting on top of his. Focus wandering. She soon drifted into a peaceful, content and happy sleep.

Her boyfriend watched her. He noticed the small things. Like the way she blinks with her eyes closed, an indication she was having a dream. The way she would make some expressions like the ones in her dreams. Or how her jaw had to be clenched shut, a habit she made as a kid out of fear of chomping on her tongue by accident.

He noticed how her cheeks flushed red when her body temperature was too high or when it was way too cold. And he even noticed how, when she has a deep sleep her lips get plumper.

He loved her with his whole heart and soul. He noticed all the details and little things. He loved how happy she'd look and feel when he pointed them out as well. It showed her that he cared a lot about her.

He smiled happily, lifting one of his hands up to play with some of her curls that had fallen free from her bun. He chuckled, watching it bounce back into place. He removed her hair tie carefully. Massaging her scalp and playing with her hair.

Soon enough, Seungmin found himself falling into a deep sleep as well.

#stray kids imagines #stray kids #stray kids blurbs #stray kids imagine #stray kids soft #stray kids reactions #seungmin #seungmin soft #stray kids seungmin #seungmin blurb #seungmin angst

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tare-chan · 5 years

Text

Back to Midtown High

"Ned! Oh thank God!"

Peter was so anxious to attend the school again. It turned out 5 years has passed when he... dusted.... which of course he didn't have any memory of. What he remembered was that "not so good" feeling his sixth sense screamed at him, before feeling himself turned to dust.

And then black.

And then suddenly he reappeared on that planet, did some battle royale, and end with....

With...

Anyway, putting all of that behind, he still need to go to school. He was so anxious, just like his first day coming to school all over again. So many unfamiliar faces!

That's why, seeing Ned, still exactly the same, which means that he also been.... snapped? That term still didn't sound right. He'll figure a better term later. Or perhaps someone else will figure it. Doesn't matter....

Anyway, yeah, seeing Ned still exactly the same, Peter feels relieved. At least he still got his BFF, to figure things together.

"Hey, how're you doing?" Ned asked, while both of them walking to their class together.

"Good. I guess...."

"I was so worried. Last time I remembered, I can't contact you, after that bus scene. Then I came home. Then blank. Then I saw my room in a dusty mess, pardon the pun. My Dad suddenly turned older, while my mom and brother stays the same. Then my dad started to cry his heart out, and then we also started to cry our hearts out, and ended with a group hug. It's crazy, dude!" Ned starts to explain his experience in such an animated manner.

Peter frowned. That’s right. The dusty.... (still not right!) affected the whole universe, didn’t it? That means, he is not alone in facing the aftermath. He never was alone. The whole universe is coping. They adapt. His mind eases a little at that thought.

“Hey.... you okay?” Ned concern voice reaches his ears, as they walk to the their class.

“I guess.....”

“Look, I’m sorry about.... eh, about.... him.”

Him.

Tony.

There’s that pang of pain in Peter’s chest. Not as painful as previous days, but still hurt. Nevertheless, he manages to form a small smile while nodding his gratitude towards his BFF.

“Okay, let’s change the topic. Will there anyone else we knew in the classroom?” Ned cheerfully changed Peter’s attention, and his mood changes immediately, from anxious to curious, as both boys step inside the class.

His eyes scan the student filled class, and he can’t stop the smile forming in his face when he spot the familiar messy ponytailed hair of a certain girl, sitting in the same spot, reading the same thick paper back, with familiar frown plastered in her face.

“MJ!” Ned calls excitedly while both of them approach her, and sit in their usual spots.

So MJ was disintegrated too! (Whoah... that term is too dark! Even for MJ!) Another one of his BFF is there.

“Sup, dorks!” is her casual reply, didn’t bother to look up from her book.

This is just like usual. And these things eases Peter’s mind more. He grins. Perhaps, going to school isn’t such a bad idea after all! It did help Peter’s mind grounded (literally too!) Just like what May’s said!

“Yo, Penis! I see yours haven’t grown in the past years!”

Peter mentally slaps his face. Of course, there’s always a possibility that Flash will also be here. He sourly looks at the voice, and, yep, he’s still there. Exactly the same too.

“And I also didn’t see your brain grown in the past years, Eugene! Did wind blew those dusty brain away?”

Peter’s eyes widened while he snapped back to MJ. Did she just joked about the dustying.... (is that even a word?). Nevermind that her retort immediately shut Flash up, but did she, the MJ, has just made a pun?? Whoah... Peter has never been so proud!

But before he managed to compliment her, suddenly an unfamiliar boy came and blocking Peter’s view with his back. How rude!

“Oh my God! Is that really you, Michelle??” he asked excitedly, and quite loud too. Peter angled his seating so he can take a good look at this newcomer. Neat hair, neat shirt, neat pants, and even neater shoes. But still an unfamiliar face. Who the hell?

MJ frowns deeper, and confusedly asks, “Do I know you?”

“It’s me! Brad! Brad Davis? The boy you saved from those hoolingans several years ago? The boy who always met you at the city library?”

The who??? Peter frowned.

MJ’s eyes flashed with recognition, “Ah! Oh, you’ve...... grown....”

“Yeah! I’ve always admired you! I can’t believe I got this chance to be able to go to the same class with you! Thank you Blip!” the new boy keeps talking.

“Thank you.... what?” Peter asks out loud. And that seems to catch this new boy’s attention.

He turns to Peter and answer, “The blip! You know, because all things gone then just suddenly came back like nothing happened. Blip! Like that.”

Then he return his attention back to MJ, “I can’t wait to make projects and shares all possible theories and thoughts with you throughout the years!” Then he tries to nudge Peter (which he easily dodge, of course) and continue his blabbering, “Like I mean, never happened before that people could actually ‘catch up’ in ages with their idol, right?”

Peter cringed and lifts one eyebrow while nodding slowly. Well... that’s certainly an interesting way of viewing the disastrous .... Blip (So that is the term being used, eh? Kinda lame).

“And I also can’t wait to show you my collection of new books. Perhaps you’ve never read these titles, but I’m sure you’ll like it!” the neat boy keeps talking.

Interestingly, MJ’s eyes light up at the mention of books, and she replied with a smile, “Interesting!”

Peter frowns while seing that. (Did MJ just smiled to a stranger? Just like that? Huh.... that’s new....)

Thankfully, the teacher, Mr. Dell (huh... he’s new too!) enters the class, and the conversation needs to be stopped.

Clearly, going to school isn’t that bad of an idea. Just in minutes, Peter already able to feel like a teenager again, what with school and tasks, while understanding that people he knows are still around (including Flash, yes). Then there’re new things to explore (including the suspicious Brad Davis, yes). All in all, going to school will be able to “heal” him, just like what May’s said. And May is always right.

===================

Okay, so first of all, I’m not a writer. So pardon any mistakes (grammar included). But I just get this idea, and it won’t go away. ^^;

if you managed to get this far, thank you for reading :D

#gif credited to the makers#

#peter parker #ned leeds #michelle jones #flash thompson #brad davis #ffh #filler fic #fic #ffh fic #spideychelle #peter x michelle #fic attempts

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let-me-be-your-comet · 5 years

Text

Happy birthday, Wonderful Wonderful!

Ohhh Wonderful Wonderful, the most appropriately named Killers album, my most favorite...how do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

This album just has such a ridiculous level of care and love put into it, it practically bleeds for you, and it really lays Brandon's soul out there for all to see as the lyric writer. It was written as a means of processing something that Brandon had kept secret for years - his wife's struggles with post-traumatic stress and depression, which had just culminated in suicidal ideation before the band reconvened to write this album. Every single song is so cohesive, lyrically and thematically - it is truly an absolute masterpiece of cohesion, a real work of art. Wonderful Wonderful tells a story from start to finish in a way that no other Killers album to date has achieved so successfully, and it's just absolutely gorgeous.

The order of the tracklisting is so very critical in Wonderful Wonderful. It begins with the title track, which sets the stage for the album and discloses its inspiration. It seems to be written from twin perspectives - that of Brandon, as a husband trying to guide and support his wife through struggles, and that of God doing the same.

It's perhaps the most overtly religiously evocative of their songs, which is quite interesting and perhaps indicative of how much they've both leaned on their faith in the last several years as they have struggled with mental health. There is a lot of clever word play couched between the purposeful, biblical language: "Stay on the path that leads to the well - there are many, take the one that leads to the well." Brandon used a drought to symbolize his wife's life throughout the album, continuing into the album art and the stage production. Water symbolizes hope, as it comes to wash out the bad and begin anew. This line, on the surface, calls back to that theme - you're in the midst of a drought, but there is water if you head to the well.

But it has a dual meaning and is also meant to speak to illness vs. health - she is ill, and there are many ways that her story could go, but he is asking her to take the one that leads to wellness. Towards the end, Brandon gets a little more assertive about it - "my arm is reached out, I am here. I'll crush every doubt and every fear, clothesline the shame and you will answer to the rain." He'll be there to support her, if she will confide in him and trust him - he'll help her through the shame and stigma of mental illness, crush the negative feelings and make room for hope instead. This song references that drought/water theme for the first time and tells his wife not to give up hope that things will get better ("Don't you listen to the never; keep praying for rain").

The second track is The Man, which Brandon has said is a kind of last hurrah with his younger, more naïve self. It pokes fun at his perception of what it meant to be a man when he was young and dumb - "Nothing can break me down, don't need no advice - I got a plan." He has said that in the process of writing the album, he realized that his idea of 'being a man' has changed, from a sort of macho, arrogant bread winner to realizing that it's really all about empathy and compassion and trying to be a good person - and the rest of the album puts his new perception of 'manliness' on full display.

Rut and Life to Come are the gatekeepers of this new, empathetic outlook - such a beautiful exercise in the empathy and compassion that he is so proud of cultivating. He wrote Rut from his wife's perspective, trying to get inside her head and understand what she was feeling - without knowing the problem, there can be no solution. He does a beautiful job of portraying the struggle of mental illness, and writes in a way that is not necessarily specific to PTSD - it is versatile enough for the listener to apply the message to any range of struggles or mental illnesses.

"Don't give up on me, 'cause I'm just in a rut - I'm climbing but the walls keep stacking up." The opening lines set the stage so perfectly for the concept of the song, which climaxes in a long, hopeful bridge of "I'll climb and I'll climb" - one that almost goes on too long and in doing so exemplifies the difficult, lengthy battle of recovery from illness.

Life to Come is the sibling of Rut; the very next track is a direct response to its predecessor and this time, we hear Brandon's immediate response to Tana's confession in Rut: "I didn't see this coming, I admit it, but if you think I'll buckle, forget it. I told you that I'd be the one, I'll be there in the life to come." It is a little more raw, less polished than the other tracks on the album. There are moments where his voice is shaky or slightly off-key, perhaps left in on purpose to show the depth of the emotion and conviction that went into this song. The entire track professes his support for her and his belief that she shouldn't feel ashamed of her illness; that he's going to help her get through it, because that's what marriage is for: "I know sometimes you think that I regret it, but I don't remember stumblin' when I said it: I told you that I'd be the one. I was talkin' 'bout the life to come."

The fourth track, Run For Cover, flips the script and tells the story of a man who does not believe that empathy and compassion are important, a politician who does not treat his wife as he should. Brandon speaks to the man's wife and tells her to leave him: "Run while you can, baby - don't look back. You gotta run for cover. Don't be afraid of the fear, that's a played out trap, man - you know you're not the only one." He then writes a verse from her perspective, once again putting his empathetic voice into practice: "It's hard to pack the car when all you do is shame us - it's even harder when the dirtbag's famous." Brandon returns once more as a third party narrator ("There was nothing she wouldn't give just to trust him with her nightmares and her dreams - she's running just to trust him. He's got a big smile, he's fake news, just run for cover - you've got nothing left to lose," and again pleading for the wife to leave her 'dirtbag' of a husband who lacks empathy and compassion.

The next track, Tyson vs. Douglas, is yet another exploration of empathy. This time, Brandon puts himself in the shoes of Mike Tyson as he gets knocked out by Buster Douglas during an iconic fight in 1990. "You're used to winning, how did it feel? Did you hear the screaming? It was unreal...you can hit the shower, fill the place up with steam, close the curtains - but when you woke up, man, it wasn't no dream." He then turns the pen on himself and reflects on his children, who view him as an invincible hero, and the inevitability that he himself will eventually 'go down' like his own hero, Mike Tyson, did.

Some Kind of Love was written in the depths of Brandon's writer's block, borne of his attempts to break through to his wife and connect with her. They were both in dark places: she in the midst of a depressive episode, and he was questioning his own ability to write, as his attempts to suppress his marital struggles in his work had resulted in the inability to create anything worth pursuing.

He did something he's never done before here: he wrote over an instrumental track by Brian Eno, desperate to create something and needing a fully realized musical landscape to work with. "You got the will of a wild bird, you got the faith of a child before the world gets in - you've got some kind of love." Here he pleads with his wife to recognize how strong she is - how he sees her, rather than how she saw herself at that time. It ends with a heartfelt call to her, trying to reach her through her depression and push away the suicidal ideation in the way he feels he communicates best - through music: "Can't do this alone, we need you at home. There's so much to see, we know that you're strong - can't do this alone."

The next song, Out of My Mind, is a sort of monument to his marriage and an ode to his wife, acknowledging their struggles but also celebrating their relationship: "We're building up a kingdom, we pray it never falls...but I can't get you out of my mind." He then lists all of his accomplishments trying to impress her, and reiterates how smitten he is with her throughout the song. It's his attempt to move on, past their struggles - it doesn't matter, her fears were unfounded and he still loves her.

The Calling is yet another piece of his quest to be a better person and inspire others to do the same. It's told through the story of a son, a clergyman, trying to lead his father to a better life: "Follow the son out of the night, brother, just lean into the light." Interestingly, Brandon draws on his own father's experience with gambling when representing the father's troubles: "His hands still shake when the ponies break out onto the track, his feet still quake when they say they want their money back."

The final song, Have All the Songs Been Written?, brings the whole album full circle. It brings back the macho figure from The Man, but now his bravado has been lost: The Man is on top of the world and brags about how he's got "gas in the tank, money in the bank," while this man has been brought low and laments "Has all the gas been siphoned? Do the banks still carry gold?"

It tells of Brandon's mindset at the beginning of the creation of this album, while he struggled with writer's block for the first time in his life: "Have all the songs been written? Has all the truth been told? Have all these years been worth it, or am I the great regret?" This song reiterates his desire to connect with his wife in the midst of her depression and his own struggles with communication, and calls back to his journey while writing Some Kind of Love: "Have all the songs been written? I just need one to get through to you...when the ship is back in the harbor, I will make you happy again - I can see it, I believe it."

From top to bottom, Wonderful Wonderful is just such an absolutely stunning piece of work, a real masterpiece of songwriting and a truly wonderful exercise in cohesive writing. Every song is connected and their meanings are subtly interwoven, creating a true album, not only a collection of songs.

Happy birthday to my very favorite Killers album.

#haters to the left please #the killers #brandon flowers #wonderful wonderful

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imagines-of-the-creed · 6 years

Text

Swimming Lessons (Edward Kenway)

Writer’s block is a bitch, really.

I finally managed to go back and finish one of my random writing pieces and I’m actually proud of myself for doing so. I’m deeply sorry that it isn’t a request from here, but from one of my other posting sites, but I hope you still love Edward as much as I do :) Anyways, enjoy!

Word Count: 2751

“You have got to be messin’ with me lass.”

Edward’s deep laughter filled the deck of the Jackdaw, his calloused hands came up to press against his chest to try and contain his laughter, but it was useless; out of the few facts that he had been learning about you, the one you had just shared with him moments ago was the one that had made him crack up.

While Edward leaned up against the railing of on the deck, laughing so hard that tears were brimming his eyes, you stood only a few feet away from him, your arms folded tightly across your chest as your tan cheeks turned into a deep shade of red while you did your best to withstand your partner’s laughter.

“I’m not messin’,” You spoke shyly, a small smile creeping onto your face the longer you stared at Edward’s radiant one, “I told you I’d be honest with you and here you are makin’ fun of me for it.”

“Oh lass,” His hearty laughter began to quiet down as he wiped away the stray tears from the creases of his eyes, “I don’t mean to make fun of you, but it’s kind of hard not to,” He took a moment to fix his composure and take a couple steps closer to you, “You are one of the most feared captains out on the sea—maybe second best to me—and you are terrified of the water and don’t know how to swim.”

For a brief moment, Edward’s shimmering blue gaze held yours but the moment he thought about the fact, he began to chuckle once more, but to a lesser degree. He slapped a calloused hand upon your shoulder as he looked down at the wooden planks before returning his gaze back up to yours.

“It kinda sounds like you are makin’ fun,” you sighed in slight irritation and embarrassment as he was making such a big deal that some of his crew were looking onto the both of you. “When I shared that with you, I was hopin’ you would help me, not ridicule me.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he apologized over and over as he composed himself once more; he didn’t mean to laugh as much as he did, but he just found your situation to be funny. “I’m just thinkin’ back to that battle we had a couple weeks ago when you were scrambling for anything that could float on that ship we was borrowin’; you should’ve seen the look on your face when you were doin’ it too…”

“Edward…” You warned him while you had cast a hardened look at some of his curious crew members. “Can you help me or not?”

“I can definitely help you, just remember,” he came to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder and leading you to the break in the railing, “it’s alright to be a late bloomer in getting your sea legs, I used to be like you and now look at me. I’m one of the best that rules these oceans. You’ll get your legs by the end of today, I promise.”

While you shook your head softly at his self-boosting words, you couldn’t wipe the smile that had crawled onto your lips and stayed there the moment he wrapped his arm around you. Your arm had come to wrap itself around his waist as you walked alongside the railing on the deck, just enjoying being so close to Edward and not having to worry about imminent dangers that the two of you either ran into or created.

Edward had stopped the both of you at the break in the railing where the docking would take place and made you stand there with him despite him noticing you trying to back away from the very edge of the deck.

Your wide eyes looked down to your weather-beaten boots and let your gaze drift only a couple inches ahead of you to see the navy blues waves crashing against the ship, causing it to slightly careen side to side, “Uh, Edward, do you mind if we do back up from the edge just for a bit? I don’t believe I’m quite ready to start just yet.”

His light chuckles reached your ear as he told you to not to worry and just when you thought he was about to take another dig at you for not being able to swim, his next words had taken you completely off guard.

“You know you have the most mesmerizing (E/C) eyes I’ve seen on this side of the ocean, don’t you?” A light smirk crept upon his lips as his sparkling blue irises roamed all over your face.

“W-What?” Your gaze narrowed as you looked at him with plain confusion, “What are you goin’ on about?”

“You heard me,” He took his arm from around your neck and wrapped it around your waist instead, pulling you slightly closer than you had been before; his actions were definitely confusing you, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t like it one bit. “And since you shared somethin’ about you, I might as well as do the same.”

Your eyes only grew narrowed as he smiled at you, “I’ve had my sights set on you ever since Blackbeard introduced me to you. Your not only a fine business partner but a lady as well.”

Nervous chuckles escaped your mouth as you looked at the ground for a brief moment before returning your gaze to Edward’s piercing one. You two swayed with one another, mimicking the motions of the ship as you stood there, completely enraptured by his strange, but sweet words.

“Oh, really?” You mused. The feelings he was speaking was mutual but you never really shared it with him; you had a sense that there was something between you two, you just chose not to act on it due to his mysterious past.

“There has been one thing I’ve been dying to do ever since I met you, really…” Edward confessed, looking at you with a soft smile.

“And what’s that?”

Edward took his arm from around your waist and took both of his calloused hands and placed them on your biceps firmly before looking at you with mirth plain in his eyes. He began to lean in slowly and it made your heart race as you followed suit, knowing the typical outcome of this type of action.

Just before your lips connected, Edward’s arms extended outwards forcefully and shoved you off the deck and into the raging black waters below. The moment your boots left the hard surface of the deck and you felt yourself free-falling, you became paralyzed with fear and anger at the sudden turn of events. A short shriek left your lips before you were immersed into the salty water. You didn’t have time to process what happened as you knew that you were now doing your best to try and make a break to the surface to get a fresh breath of air into your lungs.

Edward heard the splash below and leaned over the railing to observe your actions carefully. He saw you flailing your arms about under the water’s surface but made no quick actions to dive in and save you from your possible death.

“Swimmin’ is a vital survival skill for us out on the seas, it might come on handy at the most unexpected times, you have to be always ready.” He stated loudly as he watched you break surface a couple of times over the waves that were slamming against the ship. “When your life's on the line, you’ll learn and do anything to survive.”

You only managed to get short bursts of his name out as you did your best to keep above the water, but you were failing miserably. The longer you stayed in the dark waters, the more you thought about the other dangers other than just drowning; you began to think about another ship coming out of the blue to fight with the Jackdaw or a pack of blood-thirsty sharks coming to devour you into tiny bits.

Edward stood his ground at the railing of the deck and watched you stay under the surface for a majority of the time. His crew members were beyond shocked at his actions and some voiced their own opinion to him by yelling at him to fish you out and take them to the nearest port, but he ignored their comments and held onto his hope that you would persevere and overcome your fear to survive.

“They’ll be fine, men, give them some time and they’ll be swimming like a fish in no time.” Edward nodded towards his crew while they continued to watch you sink lower and lower under the raging waves. “They just aren’t puttin’ in enough effort…”

Edward’s voice trailed off as he finally took a moment to look down at the water to see that your movements were minimal and you were fading in the dark waters; his knuckles on the railing were turning white as his own hope drained from him and he knew that he had to intervene quickly.

He shrugged off his top coat and tossed his weapons belt aside and dove into the water with grace. The minute his skin touched the water, it gave him a wave of goosebumps at being relieved from the scorching caribbean's sun’s rays, but he kept focused on the task at hand and that was retrieving you from the under the waves.

He spotted you a few feet away and quickly made his way towards you, stopping just before colliding with your body. He saw your hair flow with grace in the water but he saw that your mouth was open slightly ajar and your eyes were closed. Panic began to wash over him as he knew that his tactics had put you in grave danger.

Snaking an arm around your chest, he began to ascend to the surface with you in tow. His grip was tight as he was scared of letting your slip right out of his grasp. The moment he broke to the surface, he shouted for his men to throw a rope down for him and you; once the rope hit the water, Edward wasted no time tying it tight around your waist and making sure it was secure he tugged on it before yelling at his men to pull you up.

He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship and rushed to your side the minute he reached the deck. He shoved his men aside and undid the knot around your chest before pulling your coat away from your soaking body; Edward yelled for his men to look the other way as he wanted to protect your modesty if he needed to remove any more clothing, but some refused to leave just in case he needed help.

“Oh lass, come on now…” Edward brushed the wet hair out of your face and began pumping away at your chest to get your heart beating again, “I can’t let you go now.”

He leaned over you for a couple of minutes, pumping, but nothing was happening. He stopped and began to blow breaths of air into your lungs through your mouth with hope that the last resort would revive you.

After the first breath, your body jerked to the side as little spurts of water poured out of your mouth, but your eyes never opened. Edward’s small smile faded as quickly as it appeared when he saw that you went back to laying on your back.

“Jesus, man…” Edward didn’t know what else to do but continue to give you mouth to mouth, but he felt like he was helping a lost cause the longer you laid there with no response. He sat back on the balls of his feet for a moment before thinking of an idea that would either work or not, but he knew that if it did work and you woke up, it was only out of the kindness of his heart that he did it.

Edward pulled his open palm back and slammed it against your chest and watched your head jerk upwards as the remaining water in your lungs came up through your throat and all over Edward. Your eyes opened as you violently gasped for air, your pruny hands pushing your upper body upwards as you choked on the last mouthfuls of seawater in your throat.

The salty water sprayed all over Edward, but he didn’t mind one bit as he stared at you in astonishment, not believing that he actually saved your life rather than taking it. While you struggled to get air into your lungs, Edward assisted you in sitting you up on the deck and rubbing your back soothingly, trying to make up for his foolish antics moments before.

“That’s it, lass, just breathe,” He soothed, pulling the wet strands of hair away from your face as you finally let your body relax from the stress you experienced moments earlier.

“I cannot believe you did that to me, Edward,” you said breathlessly, slowly tilting your head upwards to look at him; your eyes were narrowed as you tried to mask your anger towards him. You lost it when he flashed you a sheepish smile, the next thing you did was slap him hard across his face, so hard that it made him look in the other direction, “What the hell were you thinking?”

“I...I deserved that,” He rubbed his cheek as he turned to look at you once more. “I thought I was doing you a favor; most people’s survival instincts come out when they're put in danger. I thought yours would show itself when I pushed you off the deck.”

“Well they didn’t!” You shouted, ending your sentence with a slight cough, “I could’ve died you buffoon! If I didn’t drown, I sure as hell would’ve been a snack for the sharks below.”

A heavy sigh left Edward’s parted lips while he stared you down for a moment, thinking over his actions. “I was wrong in what I did and I hope you can forgive me,” he paused, a small smirk coming across his lips, “after all though, you did ask for my help.”

You shook your head softly, still trying to get over the slight headache that you got from the lack of oxygen, “apology accepted.”

“Good, now--”

He was cut off by another smack across his cheek, knocking him off the balls of his feet, “Jesus, I thought you were alright, what the hell was that for?”

“That’s for smacking me in my chest, I was awake with the first spurt of water out of my lungs,” you informed him, “if you would’ve just put your ear to my chest instead of puttin’ your lips on mine, you would’ve known that.”

“I’m sorry for that too, I was just scared you were gonna die on me,” Edward confessed honestly, looking at dry wooden boards of the deck, “I’ve lost so many good friends and if I lose one more, I think I would go insane.”

“Well, maybe you should express your affection for your friends in other ways other than shovin’ them off your ship right before you think that you’re gonna kiss them,” You stated, standing up to stretch out your wet limbs, “Did I really have to drown in order to get that kiss from you? Was that it?”

Edward chuckled before standing beside you, “No, you didn’t, but I just had to get your mind off things to try and get you prepared for your lesson. Everything I told you was from my heart, as weird as it sounds, I didn’t lie to you.”

“Well, I’ll have to think on your feelin’s, especially after this little stunt that I learned nothin’ from.”

Your dry laughter brought a smile to Edward’s face.

“If I offered you a more easy lesson on swimmin’, would you give me another chance?” He asked you, hoping that you would pass up the deal.

“I think I’d take it, so long as it’s by the shores.” You stated, holding out your hand for him to shake on it, “maybe if that lesson goes well, I’ll get a safe kiss that time, hm?”

Edward pulled you into a hug as he grabbed your hand, “Definitely. I promise it’ll go much smoother than this one did.”

“We’ll see.”

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