#silently chuckling at this for two unstoppable minutes

[pirarara]

[wackulart]

Glad your back! Could you do Belos x male wild witch who lives with eda and instead of eda getting taken he does?

Thank you very much!!

One Belos x male wild witch reader coming up!

Belos x Male Wild Witch!Reader

----------------------------

You and the Owl Lady had made quite a name for yourselves across the Isles with your mischief and wild magic.

That also meant there was no shortage of coven scouts coming to take you in, it was something you and Eda had gotten quickly used to dealing with.

It was simply the life of the two most powerful witches on the Boiling Isles despite what the Emperor insisted on being called. You and Eda were an unstoppable duo and you wouldn't have it any other way.

The Emperor however, would.

One wrong move was all it took, it was what the Emperor had been waiting for with a watchful eye and an itchy trigger finger. The minute the opportunity arose to get one of you, he wasted no time taking it. It had almost been both of you, but you had stalled the scouts long enough for Eda to get away. Now you had a meeting awaiting you with a witch that wanted your head.

You were sure this would be fine.

How bad could it be?

Scouts came to grab you from the wagon they had you locked up in and you made sure to be as much of a problem as you could. If they wanted to take you to the Emperor, you were going to make sure every minute of it was hell.

They had finally wrangled you into the throne room, most of them worn out and damaged from the amount of kicks you had landed on them.

A rather frustrated scout spoke up. "Here he is, my Emperor."

The shit-eating grin you had on your face made the Emperor scowl underneath his mask as you were tossed into the room. The sound of your laughter had gone under his skin as he dismissed the scouts from the room.

You watched as he descended from his throne and walked up to crouch in front of you. "What's the matter, wanted me all for yourself?"

He sat silent as if he was searching for something, then he let out a low chuckle. "You are quite the slippery one, aren't you? I've spent a lot of time on you and the Owl Lady."

"Obsessed much?" You taunted him.

Belos made an unamused noise as he stood up, towering above you as you were on your knees. Even in a completely vulnerable state, you still had the air of confidence as if you were in total control and it drove him mad.

He squinted as his fingers clenched and relaxed, he had planned this in his mind over and over for the second he had one of you in his grasp.

What he would do, what he would say, yet now words were failing him at the sight of you. Why?

The Emperor took your chin in between his finger and his thumb, lifting your face to look at him. He commanded power and respect in any way he could get it and yet you refused him that. You mocked and ridiculed him, putting up a challenge for him.

A challenge.

What sort of hunter would he be if he turned from a challenge?

You had grown a little uncomfortable at his stare and silence, expecting him to do something. In hopes of breaking the quiet tension you spoke up again.

Your head moved forward as you gave him a look of pity as if he were the one at your feet. "Speechless, My Emperor?" The title of honour spoken with such blatant disrespect.

He fought the chill that shot up his spine at the sound of it on your tongue.

"Perhaps you are a rather appealing sight." The Emperor commented as he turned your head to the side.

..Huh?

You almost didn't believe what you heard as you blinked in confusion. Did the Emperor just say you were appealing? As in attractive? You couldn't have possibly heard him right. His mask moved closer to your face as he leaned down to your height. Now you could clearly see his eyes looking you over with a different intent than to toss you in the Conformatorium.

Why did you like it?

With an unsure chuckle you tried to continue your quips. "Careful getting too close, my wild magic is infectious."

"You are infectious, you rotten little thing. Plaguing my mind like a disease." He snapped back.

It was meant to sound threatening, but his words had meant something very different.

"The big and powerful Emperor flustered over me? No wonder you look like a mess, that must be killing you." You cooed.

His breath hitched as he released your chin and turned from you. You could see his fist clench behind his back as he tried to sort his thoughts. Belos hadn't expected this sort of interaction to unfold between you two and neither had you, yet here you were.

Was this flirting?

Titan, if Eda could see you now..

He looked back at you, his eyes glowing through his mask as he looked conflicted for a moment. The Emperor turned to face you, waving his hand at you and releasing your bonds. You shot a suspicious look at him as he simply folded his arms behind his back.

Belos began walking back to this throne to seat himself. "What a shame that the wild witch had used his wiles to escape my grasp."

You stood up and stretched out your arms, waiting for him to stop you, to pull some sort of ambush. He didn't move an inch, other than to lift his finger towards the door. You smirked as you turned to the door, stopping a moment to look back at him.

"What a shame indeed." You purred as you burst through the doors and sped down the hallways to the nearest window.

Hearing The Emperor bark out orders for your capture, knowing they lacked conviction. He wasn't what you thought at all, you were in no way considering a coven, but you were interested in seeing him again.

What was going on behind that gold plated mask of his?

[nyxreads]

VASSIEN + ELRIEL PARALLEL

Idk if someone already did this, I recently read a compilation of Vassien moments (thanks to @emnlln ) immediately thought of Elriel ones.

Let us start with both men being unstoppable despite the warnings thrown at them:

Lucien shifted his focus to Rhys, to me. “I’ll go,” he repeated, rising to his feet. “To find this sixth queen.”

Azriel said, as if in answer to some unspoken debate, “I’m getting her back.” Nesta slid her gaze to the shadowsinger. Azriel’s hazel eyes glowed golden in the shadows.

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.” A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.”

Nesta said, “Then you will die.” Azriel only repeated, rage glazing that stare, “I’m getting her back.”

Spending time together:

Vassa still remained inside, chatting with Lucien animatedly. I supposed that if she only had until dawn before turning back into that firebird, she wanted to make every minute count. Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened

Azriel and Elain remained in the sitting room, my sister showing him the plans she’d sketched to expand the garden in the back of the town house, using the seeds and tools my family had given her tonight

Both are given ship names by the author

A bird of flame … and a lord of fire. I wondered if they’d found each other yet.

I saw the painting in my mind: the lovely fawn, blooming spring vibrant behind her. Standing before Death, shadows and terrors lurking over his shoulder.

My Queen Feyre connecting the two: Vassa and Lucien as Exiles, Elain and Az both good at secret-keeping (spies👀)

“Jurian isn’t an exile,” I said. Vassa, yes. Lucien, two times over now

Feyre smiled. “Elain was the only one who guessed. She caught me vomiting two mornings in a row.” She nodded toward Azriel. “I think she’s got you beat for secret-keeping.”

Spending time together? Check

But Vassa’s freedom would end. Lucien had said as much months ago, and still visited her often enough

Elain sat silently at one of the wrought-iron tables, a cup of tea before her. Azriel was sprawled on the chaise longue across the gray stones, sunning his wings and reading what looked to be a stack of reports

How both men looked at the women with pain and sorrow because of the situation they are in:

Both Jurian and Lucien stared at her, the former’s face utterly unreadable, and the latter’s pained.

and Azriel … It was pity on his beautiful face. Pity and sorrow as he watched my sister.

Both men were relaxed and chuckling while with the women:

I supposed that if she only had until dawn before turning back into that firebird, she wanted to make every minute count. Lucien, surprisingly, was chuckling, his shoulders loose and his head angled while he listened.

He chuckled, unable to suppress the impulse. “No wonder you didn’t want me to open it in front of everyone.”

Blushing you say?

Lucien blushed, “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

Color bloomed high on Azriel’s golden-brown cheeks, but he inclined his head in thanks and led my sister toward the back doors into the garden, sunlight bathing them.

Indeed, sjm really said the couples are obvious 👀💜

I am not allowing any hate toward this post, no anon hate nor any comment (and if you're too stubborn and will still leave nasty remarks then don't block me so I can reply to you and let's talk about canon)

[pianocat939]

✦ Unintentional Murder Part 1 ✦

Word count: 2.6K Character Info (Plz read otherwise you’ll be confused) Unintentional Murder Masterlist

Synopsis: A king almost gets suffocated by a piece of cloth in his sleep. At first, he assumes that the cloth has something against him. But it turns out it doesn’t. Now he and his brother are on a journey to find the mysterious man who pulls the strings of the puppet. What could possibly go wrong on this innocent little journey?

Introduction: *taps mic* Ok so I bring you my fanfic, Unintentional Murder! It is a crack fanfic about the four boyos altered into funky characters who all have different goals. I can't say more, as it would leave the fun out of it, but know this is for the funny.

Tw: attempted suffocation, cursed references, unfair punishment, brief mentions of trauma

Disclaimer: This is for comedic purposes. It has little to no relation to the canon show.

This fanfic is so important to me that I would really enjoy likes and reblogs. It's just too fucking funny not to love it.

On the coast of the sea lay a kingdom named "Uranium." Its waterways glimmered indigo with a shine of white from the sun. The towns and villages bustling with life and joy: prosperous, one might say.

Its name, Uranium, comes from the unique lilac glow of the metal when night falls. Tourists worldwide travel to witness the beauty, adoring the violet hue.

In the heart of the nation is the palace, where the royal family resides. The Hamato family, who've governed the society for centuries, are the main reason Uranium has been able to thrive as it does. As of now, there is a king along with his twin brother. Together, they harbour wealth and peace for Uranium, their beloved homeland.

The older twin, known as the prince, was once meant for the throne. But due to his dislike of such mundane work, he passed it on to his younger sibling instead. He spends his days experimenting with his magic, attempting to master his abilities.

The younger one of the two is an unstoppable genius; who is also king. Despite being so young, he has led the kingdom to glory in numerous ways. While he is not overseeing Uranium, he tinkers and invents technology in his lab: a hobby he loves with his entire heart.

One quiet evening in the dining room, the twins eat at opposite ends of the table. The room is silent, with only the clinks of silverware accompanying the rested minutes of quietude.

The elder twin interjects tranquillity first, "Dearest brother, would you mind sliding over the soup?"

"Ugh, can't you use your magic to do it yourself? I am quite exhausted enough." The younger one retorts, glaring at the other.

"Danielston, I am a table, remember? My magic is weaker than what it was before." He taps his four legs against the extravagant tiles, motioning to his brother about the state of his body.

Danielston snarks back, "Right. And who exactly did it to you? Oh, none other than yourself."

The table chuckles, grinning humorously. "Heed my words, brother, uranium is delicious and has many health benefits. I just seemed to eat more than what's expected."

"Well, you transformed into a table, which altered your name from Leovindus to Tableo. Certified by myself, of course."

Tableo frowns, puzzled by the statement. "What does that have to do with this conversation?"

"That you are no longer a reptilian such as I, which rules out the reason why I need to pass the soup." Danielston smirks, smugly glancing at his brother with a gleam in his eye.

Offended, Tableo kicks the grand table with one of his four legs, annoyance etched on his face. The impact shifts the food, causing some crème to land on Danielston III's coat. The turtle revolts in disgust, his hands slightly trembling in shock.

"Augh! My lovely coat! I can't believe you! Tableo, if you'll excuse me, I need to have this washed immediately!"

He stands up instantly, heading for one of the never-ending corridors of the structure. He sassily turns back at his brother, pointing at him menacingly.

"Know that I will not be handing you the soup."

He walks off, leaving the prince in solitude. Tableo smiles, staring at the floating bowl of soup hovering in his direction. "Ah...I wonder why father let you be king. Then again, I didn't want to do the job."

Later that night, Danielston slides into his bed, relaxing into the plush mattress. His eyes bore into the ceiling, not a single thought running through his otherwise calculative mind. Something was just off today, and he can't place why.

Deciding he shouldn't dwell on the matter any further, he turns to face the wall and closes his eyes, preparing his body for sleep. The faster he rids the day, the quicker this weirdness will end.

And so he drifts off into a dreamworld, carried away by exhaustion.

In the middle of the night, he feels a tightness around his neck, like a vine encircles it. He assumes it's some muscles tensing up for no reason and tries to go back to slumber.

Not much later, the sensation only grows more uncomfortable, to the point he cannot subside to sleep. He groggily opens his eyes, glancing around the room for something odd: nothing.

Until, out of nowhere, his windpipe feels constrained, painfully so. He coughs, touching his neck for the cause of the discomfort. A soft material with rips cut into its edges. He tugs at it, attempting to free himself from its grasp.

He yanks it off his throat, gripping the end tightly. He sputters, inhaling more oxygen into his lungs. Relief floods through his body, but the uneasiness still lingers.

The King holds up the Raggedy Cloth, a disgusted expression crafted onto his face. “How dare they? I will immediately find the person who attempted to suffocate me and my future reign!”

“It was I, Danielston III, who suffocated you.” A mysterious voice speaks, bouncing off the bedroom’s walls.

“What? Whoever could it be?” Danielston III questions himself, searching the vicinity for the criminal.

“Me. The cloth you now hold.”

The king looks downwards, only to see the sight of a face sewn into the cloth. It looks up at him, a devilish grin etched onto its tiny being. “Until we meet again, King of Uranium.”

Suddenly, a short turtle with mouse features barges into the room, his shoes mustard yellow and his shorts a scarlet red. “Raggedy Cloth! We must leave now!”

Due to shock, the king is unable to react in time. The mouse-turtle snatches the cloth and jumps out the window, his figure growing distant into the midnight sea.

“You shall be cursed! Cursed by my wrath and army!” The king takes out a metal staff covered in spikes around its shaft. But before he could pursue the pair, a table slides in, holding a piece of paper on its flat surface.

"Brother! Apparently, our distant cousin, Bowser, is coming to see us! We must surely attend!” Tableo's face glitters with excitement, rocking the legs of his rectangular body.

Danielston III frowns, his brows furrowed in dismay. “Tableo, we need to run after those criminals! That wretched Raggedy Cloth and his new partner, the infamous criminal Mikey Mouse, have tried to suffocate me!”

“Oh, I see…” The furniture pauses, staring up at his sibling. “Anyway, Bowser?”

“Damn you!” He hisses, holding up his hand angrily. "They've probably gotten too far away from us! It's too dark for us to pursue them...If it weren't for your idiotic Bowser announcement!" He stomps up to the window, gripping the frame in enragement.

The table sighs and stands next to his brother, staring outside. "Oh, Danielston, I assure you. They won't attempt something like that again. I'll keep you safe." His voice loses its energetic tone and is replaced by something softer, less demanding.

"Hmph! Whatever. I must sleep, for I have much to do with my absolutely ear-bleeding advisors!" Danielston whips around and heads to his mattress, making a shooing motion to his brother.

"Hm...Whatever you say, my little hermit crab of a younger brother." Right as the prince was about to walk out, he hears his brother yell at him.

"You disgust me!"

Tableo chuckles and leaves the room, letting the king succumb to a dormant state once more.

Danielston, who had gone through quite the terrifying surprise, stares up at the ceiling. Why would the rag try to kill him? He certainly hasn't upset the kingdom, has he? And not only that but how did he know his identity? He's only gone out in public three times in the last five years. And was dressed in civilian clothing every time.

He doesn't remember meeting anyone recently. Not even a few of the servants have seen his face before. He can't think of any point in time when he did somebody wrong.

Before he knows it, his thoughts are muddled together, weariness taking over his body from the earlier traumatic experience. He can't help but close his eyes, letting time flow through freely.

He wakes up in an unfamiliar place, the plush material of his bed replaced by hardwood. The sky above him is a lovely shade of indigo, a colour so rare to find in nature. He sits up and realizes he's on a boat. The water flows moderately, travelling him towards something.

He glances ahead, and his mouth gapes wide open, shocked by the bewitching sight before him. It was a gorgeous castle with a bridge of glitter falling above it. The lights shine like gold, beaming upon the land like a beacon. The word "Disney" appears in the sky, the silver words floating in the sky.

"Dis...Ney?" Danielston sounds out, wondering what it means. He obviously knows it's a dream, but the word seems eerie, almost threatening.

After some minutes, he arrives at the dock: near the castle's entrance. He cautiously steps onto the platform, watching his balance. Once he knows he's stable, he heads for the structure ahead.

He notices not a single guard or castle keeper is in sight, only himself. It is an illusion made from his mind, so he dauntlessly opens the heavy gateway of the entrance, slipping inside.

Inside, everything is grand, just like his home in Uranium. The walls are pearlescent marble, and the tiles are all finely polished: every minuscule detail is perfect. It's so alluring he could stand and observe for hours.

But there is clearly a reason why his mind manifested this illusion. So, it is only right that he investigates exactly what it is. He ascends the stairs, his shoes producing clicks that echo.

He hears a distant mutter down the corridor, indicating someone is alive within these cold walls. He approaches it slowly, careful to not let the heels of his footwear not resonate. There's a crack in the door where the noise comes from, enough for the king to see the commotion.

"You dare disobey my laws?" A dark voice accuses, striking fear in one's heart.

In the chamber, a ginormous turtle kneels before a mysterious man. The turtle's large shell blocks the view of the other's identity. Together, they seem to be in a conflict of some sort: most likely a crime.

The one masked in red pleads, "Sire, I didn't know that it was illegal. I am not of this land!"

But the man does not heed his words. "All civilians know that my Yandere Horse Fanfics are not to be read, nor touched!" His voice booms against the walls, louder than an entire orchestra.

Before the innocent one can answer, the accuser speaks once more, "As punishment, you are to bring me the shell of Danielston III, the king of Uranium."

At first, the reptilian does not answer. But out of nowhere, he breathes, "Why, why thank you! Your mercy will undoubtedly bring you good fortune!" He bows his head, showing a sign of respect.

"Who said I was merciful?"

The terrapin transforms into a piece of cloth, fluttering down on the floor gracefully. He's speechless, only gasps of horror coming from his mouth.

Danielston III widens the crack in the door, wishing to see more. But a voice makes him freeze.

"Hey."

A familiar voice.

"Hey!"

A loud voice.

"HEY!"

Danielston jolts his eyes open, caught off guard by the feral screeching. His brother stands beside his bed, an unamused expression present on his face.

"My, you took an awfully long time to awaken! Odd considering you're a light sleeper." He snarks, tapping one of his four legs against the tile.

Danielston groans and groggily lifts his upper half from the mattress, mirroring Tableo's frown. "Well, I had an odd dream. A dream about Raggedy Cloth, who allegedly wasn't originally a piece of fabric."

"Oh? What occurred, little hermit boy?"

"Shush, don't call me that. He apparently read Yandere Horse Fanfiction of a faraway royal and got punished."

Tableo folds himself and jumps up onto the bed, listening closely to his brother's words. "Is that all?"

"No. He also has to murder me and bring my shell back to the man." The king shakes his head, glancing down at his hands.

"So...What are you going to do about it?" The prince questions, lazily laying on the plush material underneath him.

For a moment Danielston ponders, an awkward pause of silence present in the room. "We're going to go on a journey to find this man. And ask why he wishes to kill me."

"WHAT! EXCUSE ME DEAR SIBLING, BUT I AM NOT MISSING MY 4-TOWN CONCERT THAT IS SCHEDULED IN FOUR DAYS!" Not even a second later, Tableo screams, jumping up and down like a kangaroo.

Danielston sassily waves his hands in the air, glaring right at his brother. "How does your 4-Town concert have more value than investigating the man who attempted to murder me?"

"They're dashing, charming, and oh their charisma is incomparable!" The table swoons, dramatically leaning back.

"Hmph. As king, I order you to assist me on my journey; with no complaints."

"Wha- The audacity! You dare try to split me from not only our meeting with our cousin Bowser but now my precious 4-Town?! You bastard!"

"Eat my jewelled toes, elder brother."

After the long argument in the morning, Tableo reluctantly joins Danielston III's trip to scout the unknown man. Their first target is the neighbouring kingdom across the sea. Together, they ride on a boat, letting the natural currents carry them to their destination.

The twins are silent, observing the waters in a loving matter. For minutes no one utters a whisper, enjoying the sound of the waves.

That is until a melody starts to play, a sad, cold one.

"It is time."

Danielston stands up, placing a hand on his chest. The music gets stronger, with more instruments joining in. Then, he joins in, using his voice as another instrument.

“I was the young boy fearful of the world.

Day and night I tinkered and dabbled at my inventions

My elder twin you run with wings but I trudge with chains.

His voice is soft compared to the louder instrumentals, a deep contrast between the timbres.

The world, how it scares me!

The world, how it kills me!

The people are on the prowl

Ready to slice my head!

The volume changes to forte, piercing the ocean's tranquility.

Now I stand, with a crown on my head.

For I am king, the people's legacy.

I run the zoo called the government.

I hate the idiots I call my advisors

I suppose they cannot do more than be greedy

The tone changes to venom, symbolizing an agonizing hatred.

The world, how it scares me!

The world, how it kills me!

The people are on the prowl

Ready to slice my head!

He repeats the verse again, articulating its importance.

Brother, dare I say, king; we are the highest of the birds

we are the depths of this ocean

Yet the civilians do not cease their cruelty

Even as we serve them platters of medicine

He makes a choking motion with his hands

The people, how it scares me!

The people, how it kills me!

The world is on the prowl

Ready to slice my head!

The instruments roll to a climax, a pounding noise bouncing across the water.

And yet

It seems we are here

On this boat

Mulling our heads over a rag

Never shall we let those criminals ruin us

Danielston points to Tableo, singing the last few lines.

And you my brother

What do you see?"

Tableo smirks, flipping the angle of his legs to face him.

"A homosexual who turned into a table~!"

——————————————————

I love this so much. I can't wait to start on the 2nd partttt.

Anyway, I apologize if it sounds a bit rushed, my brain can't organize details that well (But then again I suppose it could make it even more funnier).

I hope you enjoyed~

- Celina

[niphredil-14]

Unearth My Heart Chapter 4 (Jason Todd/Reader)

Summary: Y/n says her final goodbyes, and her mental state takes a drastic turn, luck seems to be favoring her, but only for a moment. Warnings: Angst, violence Word Count: 3.1k Taglist: @mxsmwndr SERIES MASTERLIST

There was no wake, but the funeral was open casket. It was unexpected from Bruce, who seemed to be becoming less man and more bat with the rise and fall of the moon. She was convinced that there would have been no funeral at all if this new Bruce had anything to say about it, he seemed more inclined to just shove Jason in a box and throw some dirt on top, no service necessary. She silently praised and thanked Alfred, who she was certain played a hand in ensuring Jason had a proper sending-off. These thoughts were present, yet somehow indistinguishable from the bombardment of others in her mind as she stared down at the casket before the service. She had shown up early, wanting to say goodbye to him on her own, with her own words, that she was convinced she would be unable to muster up in the presence of others, this was between them, soulmates unfated and unblessed. Her hand was elevated, the tips of her middle and ring finger resting atop a dainty necklace that hung just below her collarbones. The chain was black, the shine a near perfect match to her tears. In her other hand she delicately grasped a note. The handwriting, though looking as if it had been scribbled, was most likely written with the utmost care and patience, it wasn’t his fault his penmanship was so terrible. She lifted it up and reread it.

           Y/n, I was looking through these little shops, the whole town is full of artists, and saw this necklace. They had a bunch of ones like it, but with other gem combinations and some bracelets too, I got a bracelet for myself, and the necklace is obviously for you. I know it might seem a bit dramatic, but I like the idea of us having something matching, especially where they have both of our birthstones on each of them. I hope you like it!

                       Xoxo Jason

He always was dramatic, and a total romantic, but it was cute, and she would love and cherish any evidence of his life. Tucking the note into her clutch, which also held the photo he dropped, she turned her full attention back to him.

“I bet if this were a book, you’d love the irony of it all. I mean, two people finally confess to each other and one dies before they can even go on a date? That sounds like something out of a real budget movie.” She chuckled halfheartedly, her face falling quickly after. “Thank you for the necklace, I love it. I love you.” She paused, doing her best to collect herself. “I found the bracelet you mentioned in your note. I thought you might want it. I hope I’m not wrong.” Sniffling, she took the leather band out of her clutch and gazed at it, the leather was a solid black, and in the center, were two small gems, their birthstones, and on either side of the stones were two small silver beads, matching her necklace. Taking a breath, she reached forward and lifted his left hand, rolling his suit sleeve back ever so slightly to slip on and tighten the bracelet, before rolling the sleeve back down and adjusting the cuff. “It looks good on you, very handsome.” She paused again, as she often did while talking to him in that moment. “If you were still alive, I think I might hit you with an ‘I told you so,’ but given the circumstances, it doesn’t seem all that appealing. I already miss you so much, I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on, it feels like my whole world has stopped,” she was sobbing now, the tears uncontrollable and unstoppable. “Which makes sense, because it has, because you have. I- I can’t do this! I can’t keep going without you! You- you’re my everything, I don’t know what to do, I don’t know how to heal from this! I don’t even know if I want to. All I know is that I want you back.” She stood there for minutes, crying, the makeup she had so carefully applied in his honor smudged, running, and ruined. After what seemed like much longer than it was, she collected herself, dabbed at her eyes, and placed her hand on top of his, leaning down so that her lips hovered just above his. “I love you.” She leaned farther, and gently pressed her lips to his, as if letting all her love flow to him would somehow revive him. The kiss lasts seconds, before she lifted up just the slightest bit, speaking again. “I will always love you, Jason.” And with that she stood up, gently stroked his cheek with her thumb, and then walked away, going to hide away until the funeral officially started.

The ceremony dragged on and on, and though she wanted him to have a proper goodbye, she hated being there for it. There weren’t many people there, it was a small, private, family event. She stood there, with Alfred and Dick on either side of her, and Babs on Dick’s other side. She didn’t know Babs super well, since her main interactions with the family revolved around vigilantism, but she seemed nice, and from the few interactions they had Y/n could tell that she liked her. Though she knew him a little bit more than she did Babs, Dick was also fairly mysterious to her. They hadn’t had many interactions due to the amount of time he spent in Bludhaven, but Jason always spoke highly of him, so she figured he must be a good guy. Jason usually had good judgement, even if not recently, or when it came to his safety. Bruce was noticeably absent, hiding from his feelings, hiding from reality. After longer than she thought tolerable, the service ended, yet her feet were rooted in the dirt, unable to carry her away. She stood alone, silent, feeling as if the rain was chiseling away at her body. It was only a matter of time before she eroded, she thought, for her heart still laid with him, and if his soon-to-be decomposition spread to it, she knew she would follow suit. It had been raining since before the funeral, even the heavens mourning his death, weeping on his behalf, hiding her own tears. She saw the droplets hit the ground, but the sensation of the water on her skin had stopped. Glancing upwards, she discovered that an umbrella was being held above her head. Her eyes followed the hand that held it up the arm, and to the face, finding Alfred smiling at her softly, offering as much solace as one grieving person can to another. “Alf.” She murmured, her tears not stopping.

“Miss.” He replied, nodding at her. “I think you had better come inside now.” She shook her head, her lips forming a pitiful frown. “I know you want to be here with him, dear, but I can assure you that the last thing Master Todd would want is for you to catch a cold.” Her eyes turned back to the headstone, gazing longingly. She walked forward, her feet finally free, and placed a small kiss atop the headstone, her tears accompanying the lipstick. Turning, she walked back under the umbrella, facing the manor. She gave him a barely noticeable nod, and with that the began their trek back inside. Upon swinging open the door, he spoke to her again. “Now you head on up to you room, and I will be there shortly with a towel and some tea, alright?” She gave another nod and walked away. The rain hadn’t been heavy, and her clothes weren’t all that wet, just a bit damp, so she didn’t really see the point of the towel, but she didn’t have the energy to argue, and so she kept walking. Her footsteps stopped before she reached her bedroom, however, as the door to Jason’s was cracked just enough for her to look in and be hit with another wave of melancholy and loss. Pushing the door open farther, she was almost scared to enter. But her need to feel as though he was still with her outweighed any fear, and she padded softly into the room, breathing in his lingering scent. Slowly, she stalked over to the bed, sitting on its edge only for a moment before she broke down. Collapsing in on herself, her tears began again, this time accompanied by wails and screams of agony. She pulled her knees to her chest and began roughly scratching at her upper arms, nails digging in deep, almost drawing blood, leaving white streaks in their wake. Her head fell, his smell enveloping her bittersweet. The light from the doorway lessened, a shadow cast over her, and when she looked up, there he was again. The old man stood before her with a cup of tea and a towel, as promised, gazing down at her sadly. Silently, he placed the tea down on the nightstand and took a seat beside her, the towel discarded by his side. She threw herself on to him, her face burrowed in his lap, fingers grasping his pantleg, the fabric absorbing her tears. Startled for a moment, he placed a gentle hand on her heaving back, rubbing large, slow circles. He spoke no words, just sitting there, letting her cry into him. He was strong, she would later acknowledge, for he could not only function, but comfort her as well, when she knew all too well that he was feeling a very similar kind of loss. When the sobs subsided a bit, and her breathing calmed, she rolled to look up at him.

“Alf, I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep going. It’s only been a few days and I already feel like I’m the dead one.” Her confession was followed by a sniffle. Alfred lifted his hand to stroke her hair.

“Something that you’ll realize with age, is that life is not about knowing, or moving on and forgetting about hardships, but it is rather about learning how to live with our pain, without letting it win and overtake us, it is about learning to find joy despite our pain.” Her eyelids drooped; her eyebrows scrunched. If there was any rational part of her brain active in that moment, she might have agreed, but all that was there was her sadness, and so she heard his words, absorbed them to save for later, when they might mean something to her, but as she laid there, they held no weight, empty of definition. “It hurts now, dear, and it will hurt later, but not nearly as much, I promise.” And as a few last rogue tears dropped from her bottom lashes, she sat up, his hand moving from her back to her shoulder. She reached for the tea and took a sip. It had long since gone cold, but she turned down Alfred’s offer of a new cup, opting to sit there with a cold cup than to lose his comfort even for a moment. Cold tea was preferable to loneliness any day. Though she drank slowly, trying to hold on to the moment, so tired and scared of the world’s continuous turning, it was inevitable, and when the liquid had vanished from the porcelain, they stood, the butler taking the cup, and her the towel, as they walked two different directions. She was far from healed, but she did feel better, even if only a little bit.

The next few weeks were all spent the same. She would wake up around noon, grab a small plate of food, and bring it out to his grave to pick at throughout the day. Though she would only eat half of it. The other half, in her mind at least, was his, and when the day came to an end and she left it outside for him, she would feel a sliver of joy upon finding out the next ay that the food was gone. It was, undoubtedly, animals eating it, but it made her feel like he was still there, still breathing, just more shy than he had been. She had stopped going to school, had fought tooth and nail to sit by his grave from just after sunrise to far past sunset. She would talk somedays, listen others. Sometimes Dick would come outside and sit by her, but it didn’t make much of a difference to her. Watching her cycle became painful to everyone involved, and it took only a couple of weeks before a certain proactive butler had to do something about it. The next morning came, and she walked into the kitchen right on schedule, looking as depressed as she had since the burial. She nodded and hummed at Alfred, the most of a greeting he had been able to get out of her up until then. But that morning, he was determined to receive words.

“Good morning, Miss Y/n.” His voice was steady and firm, he was the only constant in the manor since the loss of Jason, and that was reflected in his every mannerism. Her eyes flitted over to him, offering only prolonged eye contact and a slow blink as a response. Once she was sure he understood her acknowledgement, she began filling her small plate with various snacks. “I need to ask a favor of you.” She paused her movements, only for a moment, showing that she had heard him, then continued. Out of her peripheral, she saw him reach into his pocket and retrieve a folded piece of paper. Extending to note to her, he began to explain. “I need you to run to the store and pick up some things for me. I have my hands full today, and I think you could use the time out of the manor.” She froze again, slowly looking at the paper being held out to her. Apprehension shone bright in her eyes before she finally spoke. Her voice was small, barely there, as it shook and cracked like that of someone who had spent an exponential time crying.

“I want to spend the day with Jason.” Unlike her voice, her face was firm, and there was a wavering in Alfred’s gaze, his hand lowering just a fraction. He knew her pain, but he knew even more how unhealthy her routine was for her mental state. He placed the list down on the kitchen island in front of her and gave it a little pat. “After you run the errand, you can spend the rest of the day with him, alright?” Relenting with a sigh and downcast eyes, she agreed, grabbing the note, and looked through the list. It was a basic collection of groceries and household items, and she figured the trip would be quick enough. Reaching into his pockets once more, Alfred handed her a credit card, smiling and thanking her for her help.

The sun seemed brighter, though not in a nice way. Its rays seemed to permeate her very being, and there was too much going on around in her surroundings. It was her first time going out since his death, and she was convinced that her own death wouldn’t be far off if she had to stay out much longer. The hood tugged down over her face did little to hide her, and her only comfort was seeing that there were only three items left on the list. Pushing the cart as fast as she could while still moping, which, in actuality, wasn’t all that fast. She was just reaching for the detergent when her attention was drawn to the front doors, which had just been blown off their hinges by an explosion. She heard him before she saw him, and his laugh had her frozen. The sound was ringing in her ears, bouncing around in her skull. Maybe Jason was looking out for her from the other side, maybe he had heard her when she told his gravestone how much she dreamed of maiming the clown that put him there. She figured that he must have, because not only was the Joker standing only about fifty feet from her, but just next to the detergent she had been reaching for was the kitchen supplies, including knives and scissors. Though she was seething and seeing red, there was a clarity in the back of her mind, and using the chaos and fear of those around her as distraction, she subtly backed up her cart, grabbed a large knife and some scissors, and used them to open one another, slipping out of her shoes to add stealth when she saw her opportunity. The Joker was alone, or so he seemed to be, and once he had turned away from her, she took her chance and began to sprint. When she was merely feet from him, she lunged, shouting. Him turning around at her yell was a terrible mistake, for her knife landed in his neck, being tugged down tearing it open when they feel to the ground, her atop him. She pulled hard, ignoring his pushes, punches, and writhes, and the knife came free, only to be right back down, lower this time. The blade lodged into his chest, crushing ribs in the process, yet he only laughed, the pain seeming nonexistent to him. That didn’t cause any hesitation for her, as she kept stabbing and stabbing and stabbing. The squish and crunch, and cackles not sounding any more sickening to her than they did in her nightmares, where she saw a similar scene, only without herself.

“Give him back! Give him back, you bastard!” She screamed. At some point, the knife was knocked from her grasp, but it would take a lot more than that to get her to stop. At the loss of her weapon, she began to punch the man below her, to scratch him. She grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed his head down hard on the tile flooring, only to pull him up to meet him with a headbutt until there was a mix of their blood dripping down her face and adding to the sea of red surrounding them. The laughing stopped, and the body under her went limp, but she wasn’t given the opportunity to celebrate, or to enjoy her victory, for she looked up only to find herself surrounded by lackies, lead by a one blonde lover and sidekick of the clown. All she saw was a barrel pointed at her.

BANG!

And then everything went black.

[bisexualbumblebee-writes]

To Love a Ranger Chapter 14- Aragorn x OC

Aragorn x Issa

Description: As the battle grows closer and closer many begin to worry that they will not last through the night, but that changes when an unexpected ally shows up.

Word Count: 1.7k

“Farmers, farriers, stable boys,” Aragorn muttered to Issa, Legolas and Gimli as they stood in the caves under Helm’s Deep. The quartet watched in silence as the men and boys going into battle prepared, saying goodbyes and receiving armor and a variety of weapons.

“These are no soldiers,” Issa responded, crossing her arms. 

“Most have seen too many winters,” Gimli agreed. 

“Or too few,” the Elf added. An unspoken agreement settled amongst them, and yet Legolas continued. 

“Look at them. They’re frightened; I can see it in their eyes.” Everyone stopped to look at him, including Aragorn, Gimli and Alphine. The latter’s brows furrowed, and Aragorn shot him a warning glance. 

“Boe a hyn. Neled herain dan caer menig (And they should be. Three hundred against ten thousand),” he spoke fiercely. 

“Si beriathar hyn ammaeg na ned Edoras (They have more hope of defending themselves here than at Edoras),” Aragorn retorted. 

“Aragorn, nedin dagor hen erir ortheri. Natha daged dhaer!  (Aragorn, they cannot win this fight. They are all going to die)!” Legolas snapped. 

“And I shall die as one of them!” The man all but shouted. If the room wasn’t quiet before, it was dead silent now as everyone stared at them. The Elf glared at him, but Aragorn only returned it before storming off. Legolas went to go after him, but was stopped by Gimli grabbing his arm. 

“Let him go, lad. Let him be,” he instructed carefully. The Elf didn’t look pleased about it, but he let it go anyway with a deep sigh. She could tell he was still upset, and she knew Aragorn would be, so she sighed. 

“I’ll go talk to him,” she informed him and Gimli, pushing through the crowd in the same direction that her fiance had.

She found him sitting on the steps outside the great hall. His lips were set in a firm line and his brows were furrowed. So he was upset. Issa sighed softly and walked over, taking a seat beside him, though he didn’t look at her quite yet.

“I know it wasn’t fair, what Legolas said,” she started softly. “Not many people feel like they have the choice to flee the fight when their families’ lives are on the line. He knows this, and he knows that it is too late to call for aid, but he just worries about you. You are dear to him, and he hates that he feels trapped inside these walls with an unstoppable war coming to us. Of course it doesn’t excuse what he said, but I feel that it’s fair for you to see his reasoning.” The Man continued to stay silent for a minute or two, then he faced her with a fond expression. 

“You know, I hate it when you’re right.” 

“Because you don’t like to be wrong?” She joked, earning a chuckle from the both of them. 

“Precisely,” he joked back. Then his eyes landed on a blonde boy no older than twelve who stood just a few feet away, talking to another standing by a fire. The boys continually looked their way, and Aragorn seemed to notice. 

“Give me your sword,” he suddenly said. The blonde boy walked over to the couple, handing his sword to the Man. 

“What is your name?” Aragorn asked. 

“Haleth, son of Hama, My Lord,” the boy answered, making Issa’s heart clench. She’d heard of Hama’s death as a result of the Orc ambush just a few days earlier, and her heart went out to his wife and child(ren). Haleth licked his lips nervously. 

“The men are saying we will not live out the night,” he continued anxiously. “They say that it is hopeless.” Aragorn sighed softly then stood. Issa watched curiously as he held out the sword, swinging it around. He was testing it. 

“This is a good sword,” he ultimately concluded, handing the sword back to the child and resting a hand on his shoulder, staring into his eyes. “Haleth, son of Hama, there is always hope.” 

The boy seemed comforted by his words, and he offered him a nod before walking back to his friend by the fire. Issa smiled. If there was one thing Aragorn was good at, it was boosting morale even in the worst circumstances. Once Haleth walked away she stood and rested a hand on her fiance’s shoulder. 

“Come, let us go find some armor so we aren’t killed instantly,” she half joked. Aragorn chuckled softly then nodded, and they walked to the armory hand in hand. 

As it turned out, women in the race of Men didn’t often go to battle. That meant there was not much armor Issa could use. So, she took what she could and silently prayed that it would be enough. Aragorn stood just a few feet away redressing himself with chainmail and armor (Issa was jealous that he could instantly find some that fit him), but both stopped when they noticed Legolas appear, holding the Man’s sword out for him. 

“We have trusted you this far,” the Elf said softly. “You have not led us astray. Forgive me, I was wrong to despair.”

“U-moe edaved, Legolas (There is nothing to forgive, Legolas),” Aragorn answered with a small smile. Legolas shared his grin as they patted each other on the shoulder, then his eyes found Issa’s. The girl offered him a reassuring nod, signaling that she agreed with Aragorn. The three of them were distracted when Gimli appeared, looking as if he were struggling with his chainmail shirt. 

“We had time, I’d get this adjusted,” the Dwarf muttered begrudgingly, letting the shirt drop and watching it fall to the ground, obviously way too long on him. “It’s a little tight across the chest.” Issa couldn’t help but giggle at his version of her predicament, but was quickly distracted when she heard a horn in the distance. The four of them looked towards the source of the faint noise. 

“That is no Orc horn,” Legolas muttered, running out of the room. Aragorn and Issa followed close behind him, seeing Men looking down over the wall that surrounded them. 

“Send for the King! Open the gate!” A guard called. She arrived at the top of the staircase to see a large Elven army march through the gates, passing the Men. Theoden, who also stood at the top of the steps, walked down and stepped towards them. Issa couldn’t help but smile when she saw Haldir at the front of the army in bright golden armor and a brilliant red cape. 

“How is this possible?” Theoden asked in disbelief. Haldir bowed to him. 

“I bring word from Elrond of Rivendell,” he explained. “An alliance once existed between Elves and men. Long ago we fought and died together. We come to honor that allegiance.” Issa followed Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli down the stairs. Aragorn immediately hugged the Elf once he was in front of him. 

“You are most welcome here,” he responded happily. Once they pulled away Legolas hugged the marchwarden, then Issa did the same. 

“Hanon le (Thank you),” she muttered to him as the army of Elves turned to them and stood to attention. Haldir smiled at her before facing Theoden and Aragorn, his arm still around Issa while hers was around his waist. 

“We are proud to fight alongside Men once more,” he responded. Alphine glanced over to Legolas, who stood on the other side of Haldir with a smile directed at her. Maybe they wouldn’t be as hopeless after all. 

Later that evening everyone had gathered on the battlements of Helm’s Deep. Along the top of the Deepening Wall Elves were lined up as well. Everyone stood in silence as they watched the armies of the Uruk-hai advance on them with lit torches. Issa turned her head to see Gimli, who was standing beside her, attempting to see over the wall, though he was just a little too short. 

“You could have picked a better spot,” he complained to Legolas, which made the girl shake her head amusedly. Aragorn walked through the Men and Elves before ultimately stopping beside the trio. 

“Well lad, whatever luck you live by, let’s hope it lasts the night,” Gimli spoke. 

“Your friends are with you, Aragorn,” Legolas reassured the Man. 

“Let’s hope they last the night,” the Dwarf grumbled as Aragorn continued his trek to his position. Issa shook her head at him then faced forward as lightning and thunder rumbled through the sky. As the Uruk soldiers reached Helm’s Deep the captain stood on a high rock and raised his hand.  

“A Eruch n, u dano i faelas a hyn, an uben tanatha le faelas (Show them no mercy! For you shall receive none),” Aragorn called. Everyone stood in silence as the captain Uruk signaled his army to stop. Issa glanced at Gimli as he jumped up and down, attempting to see over the wall. 

“What’s happening out there?” He questioned. 

“Shall I describe it to you?” Legolas asked, making the Dwarf face him. “Or would you like me to find you a box?” Gimli stared at him for a second, then burst into laughter (which made Issa smile as well). All heads turned when the Uruks began stomping their spears on the ground and beating their chests in unison. Aragorn unsheathed his sword and held it in front of him, which signaled the archers to load their bows and draw them, ready to fire. All of a sudden an arrow shot from the wall, landing it directly in an Uruk’s neck. 

“Dartho (Hold)!” Aragorn yelled as the soldier fell down dead. The others growled ferociously before the captain thrust his scimitar and shouted. The army advanced upon Helm’s Deep with vigor. So it begins.

“Tangado a chadad (Prepare to fire),” Aragorn called to the archer Elves that stood behind the battlements. The Elves did as he said and notched their bows, Legolas and Issa following in suit. 

“Faeg i-varv dîn na lanc, a nu ranc (Their armor is weak at the neck, and beneath the arm,” Legolas informed them as they all took aim. As Issa waited for the signal she took a deep breath and attempted to calm her rapid heart rate. The battle had finally begun, and all she could do was pray that they would survive it.

[bunmurdock]

perfect places | matt murdock x f!reader

summary: you and matt have a playful spar at fogwell's + he has a surprise for you at the end. tags: no smut, fluff, reader is referred to as "my girl" once, reader is a tad childish in demeanor, matt picks up reader at one point, unresolved sexual tension. word count: 2.1k a/n: sorry, this was going to be smut but brain was really not braining today. need inspiration pwease...

“alright,” matt’s playful smirk is almost audible in the dim, echo-filled expanse of fogwell’s gym. the historic ambiance of past fights lingers in the air. it’s late, the hour when most would have long since ceased their training, but here in this place, time seems to stand still, held at bay by the dusty rings and aged equipment.

“let’s see what you’ve got,” he says as you adopt the basic stance he’d shown you minutes ago. feeling out of your element, you can’t help but voice your doubts.

“i don’t think i’m cut out for this,” you admit, vulnerability seeping into your tone.

“everyone starts somewhere,” matt reassures, circling you. “besides, i’ve seen you in action. you have potential.“

“in action? do you mean when i tripped over that crack in the sidewalk?”

“precisely,” he chuckles, stopping in front of you. the warmth in his voice does little to quell the butterflies in your stomach. “you recovered with grace. now, let’s start with something simple. i’m going to grab you, and i want you to try and get out of it using the technique i showed you.“

before you can even nod in agreement, matt’s hands are on your wrists, his grip firm yet gentle. despite your best efforts to twist free using the method he demonstrated, your movements are awkward, more a clumsy dance than a practiced escape.

“okay, maybe not quite like that,” he says, releasing you with a soft chuckle. he demonstrates the move again, slow and deliberate, a testament to his control and grace. you give it another try, and this time, you manage to slip one wrist free, nearly tumbling over in your excitement.

“there you go,” he exclaims, his hands quickly steadying you. “my girl.”

“next up, stance and balance,” matt says, voice calm and collected. he steps closer, his hand reaching out to gently adjust your feet. “wider,” he instructs. “you need a solid foundation.”

you try to mimic his stance, but your attempt feels awkward, and you can’t help but let out a small giggle. “i feel like a penguin.”

matt chuckles. “trust me, penguins can be quite formidable. now, hands up, protect your face.”

as you raise your hands, his fingers lightly brush against your wrists, sending a shiver down your spine despite the sweat beading on your forehead. 

“like this?” you ask, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the sudden rush you feel.

“good,” he affirms, stepping back to give you space. “now, let’s try a one-two punch.”

you follow his instructions, throwing punches into the air, focusing on the form he’s teaching you. matt observes closely, occasionally stepping in to adjust your posture or the angle of your punch.

“better, but remember, power comes from your legs, not just your arms,” matt reminds you, demonstrating a punch with effortless precision. his muscles flex under the fabric of his shirt, a silent testament to the years of training and fights.

you try again, putting more weight into your legs, and when your fist cuts through the air, it feels stronger, more grounded. “like this?” you can’t hide the pride in your voice.

“exactly like that,” matt says, a hint of pride in his own voice. he steps behind you, his presence a reassuring warmth. “now, when you punch, imagine you’re trying to reach through your target, not just to it.”

you nod, focusing on an invisible opponent in front of you. you throw another punch, and this time, it feels like something clicks into place.

“and that’s how you throw a punch,” matt says, coming back around to face you, his smile infectious.

you giggle, shaking out your hands. “i’m going to be unstoppable at this rate.”

“no doubt,” he agrees, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “now, for something a bit more fun.”

“more fun?” you echo, intrigued.

matt’s smirk widens. “let’s try a little sparring. don’t worry, i’ll go easy on you.”

“as if,” you huff.

“i’m going to come at you slowly, and i want you to block me.”

“okay,” you nod, bracing yourself, trying to summon every bit of focus you have.

as he steps forward, it’s like watching poetry in motion—every move deliberate, graceful. you manage to block the first few attacks, your arms clumsy but somehow effective. matt’s teaching makes sense in theory, but applying it against him, even at half-speed, is a whole other story.

“oops,” you say as one of matt’s hands sneaks past your defense, tapping your shoulder lightly.

“got to keep your guard up, sweetheart,” he teases, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

the sparring continues, each exchange a dance of advance and retreat, a testament to matt’s skill and your growing confidence. his movements are a blur, a testament to years of training, but you’re starting to anticipate, to react not just with thought but with instinct.

“try to anticipate my moves,” matt advises, circling around you, his footsteps silent on the mat.

you nod, focusing on the sound of his movements, the slight shift in the air as he approaches. it’s a game of cat and mouse, and you’re determined not to be outdone. you watch, wait, and when matt feints to the left, you react, blocking a blow that never comes and leaving yourself open for the gentle tap on your waist.

“this isn’t fair; you’re using your daredevil moves against me!” you pout, breathless from the effort, your stance wobbly but determined.

“i might be,” he chuckles, a playful twinkle in his unseeing eyes. “but you, you’ve got something i don’t.” he pauses, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “unpredictability.”

those words, laced with encouragement and a dash of teasing, light a spark in you. “okay then, watch out, murdock. i’m a box of surprises.”

matt nods, his stance relaxed yet ready, a silent invitation for you to make your move. as he steps forward, a slow, deliberate motion that’s part predator, part instructor, you can’t help but feel the gap between theory and application. your mind races through the moves he’s taught you, each one a potential step towards not just holding your own but actually catching him off guard.

you wait, baiting him, a slight shift in weight to your back foot. he takes the bait, moving in with the confidence of a seasoned fighter, his arm reaching out to tap your shoulder.

at the last second, with a giggle that belies the seriousness of your sparring, you drop to the ground, rolling forward awkwardly but with enough momentum to escape his reach. matt’s hand slices through the air where you just stood, his surprise audible in the sharp intake of breath.

“what—” he asks.

“tactical retreat,” you declare, popping back to your feet with a grin.

matt shakes his head, the mock frustration clear in his posture as he prepares to engage again.

this time, as he advances, you feign left then dart right, slipping under his outstretched arm with more grace than you thought possible. but instead of pulling away, you grab his arm, tugging gently in a move that’s more playful puppy than martial artist. it’s unexpected, unorthodox, and utterly you.

matt, caught off balance by the sudden shift, tries to correct his stance, but your gentle pull turns into a playful push. his foot catches on his own, and with a surprised sound from him and a triumphant squeal from you, you both tumble to the mat, a tangle of limbs and laughter.

as you land, with matt somehow below you, his arms instinctively wrap around you, cushioning your fall with an oof. for a moment, there’s stunned silence, then laughter bubbles up, filling the gym. "did... did i just do that?" you ask.

“seems like you did,” matt admits, the pride in his voice unmistakable, his embrace around you tightening ever so slightly.

and then, in the soft, dim light of fogwell’s gym, matt leans up to kiss you, a gentle, tentative touch that speaks volumes. 

“i think i’ve discovered my favorite move,” you whisper, unable to resist.

“oh yeah?” matt’s voice is husky, his breath tickling your lips. “what’s that?”

“the part where i end up on top,” you say.

“i might need to let you win more often then.”

the corner of his mouth twitches up in amusement.

“remember that other time you ended up on top?”

you groan, burying your face in his warm chest. “ugh, don’t remind me.”

“…when you tried to show me that roundhouse kick and split open the water cooler?“ he asks, the memory bringing another round of laughter. “then you slipped... and dragged me down with you... and then we went home dripping wet.”

you giggle, snuggled against him on the gym floor. “what can i say. water-based attacks are my specialty.”

getting to your feet, matt offers you a hand up. “you did good today, sweetheart,” he says, sincerity in his words.

“come here,” he says, pulling you close for a hug. you melt into his embrace, the feel of his strong arms around you a balm to the soul.

“i love our little place,” you whisper.

“me too,” matt whispers back, his lips brushing against your hairline. “me too.“

—

as you both step out into the brisk night air, the energy from your gym escapade still buzzing between you, you can’t help but bring up the latest development in matt’s ever-interesting life.

“so, this new office of yours,” you start, your voice tinged with a playful curiosity as you gently nudge matt’s side. “i’ve heard it’s a big step up from the old place.”

matt’s smile broadens, pride evident in his tone. “yeah, you could say that. nelson’s meats has seen better days, but it’s spacious, and with a bit of work and help from foggy’s cousin, we’ve turned it into something pretty special.”

“ooh, fancy clients now?” you tease, imagining matt, foggy, and karen in a slick, revamped space, a far cry from the charming yet cramped office you’d gotten used to.

“well, we’re not turning anyone honest away, but let’s just say the cases have gotten more interesting. and the stakes, higher. it’s a good change. we’re making a difference, in more ways than one.”

you can sense the satisfaction matt feels, not just from the success but from the impact he’s able to have, both as a lawyer and as daredevil. it makes you admire him all the more.

“can i see it tomorrow?“ the words tumble out in a rush, excitement bubbling up at the thought. “i want the full tour, matt.”

“of course,” he laughs, the sound echoing softly around you. “i’ll show you around. just, don’t laugh too much at foggy’s decorating choices. he thinks they add character.”

you giggle, then a playful idea strikes you. “and now that i’m getting better with those moves you taught me, i can help keep those fancy clients of yours in line. if they try anything funny.”

matt raises an eyebrow. “really now? should i tell them there’s a new enforcer in town if they don’t behave?”

“yep, exactly. they better be good, or it’s the one-two punch for them,” you say, balling your fists and hitting the empty air in front of you.

in a smooth motion that catches you by surprise, matt scoops you up into his arms, bridal style. at the sudden closeness, his strength enveloping you, you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck.

“matt!” you exclaim, surprise and delight mingling in your voice. “what…”

“i don’t know,” he murmurs, his grin wide as he continues walking. “wouldn’t want you to tire yourself out before your big day tomorrow.”

“you’re so weird.”

“you love it.”

you rest your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. “i was being serious, you know. i’ll keep them all in line,” you murmur. when he doesn’t say anything at first, you glance up at him, curiosity piqued by the change in his demeanor.

“speaking of keeping things in line. there’s something i’ve been meaning to share with you, something special about the new office.”

“oh? what?“

“i’ve set aside a small space, just for you. a quiet corner where you can write, read, or just be. i know how much you love your little escapes, and i thought... our office should have a place for you, too.”

your heart skips a beat. “really?” 

“yup.”

the gesture so thoughtful and sweet that it leaves you momentarily speechless.

“matt, that’s... that’s the nicest thing. i... thank you,” you manage, your voice soft, your eyes shining.

“just promise me you’ll use it?” he says.

nodding eagerly, you nestle your cheek into him. “promise.”

as matt leans down to plant a gentle kiss on your forehead, the world around you falls away, leaving only the promise of tomorrow and the countless adventures yet to come.

[bubbleteaimagines]

When you go to cheer them on

Haikyuu Boys Drabbles

BOKUTO KOUTAROU

It wasn’t like Akaashi was freaking out, but Akaashi was definitely freaking out. Fukurodani was at nationals, and Bokuto has decided now was the time go into his ‘Emo Mode.’ And the worst part was-

You were nowhere to be seen.

The rest of the Fukurodani cheer team stood on the sidelines, loud and proud, but there was obviously one person missing. L/N Y/N, the captain.

Silent panic was building up within the setter, eyes raking the arena desperately.

“Bokuto-San, I’m sure they couldn’t have gone far,” One of his teammates tried to make it better, but Bokuto only sulked further as he was reminded that you weren’t there.

“Come on, come on,” Akaashi muttered under his breath, hoping for a miracle; and he got it as you suddenly came running onto the court, shoes untied and an unapologetic smile on your face.

“Sorry baby, I got held up. I left this on the bus and I was gonna wear it during the game,” You held up the Fukurodani Jersey which read number 4, for Bokuto.

You swear, you’ve never seen him smile as wide as he gives a shout of glee, screaming, “HEY HEY HEY!” before picking you up and twirling you around.

Akaashi silently breathed a sigh of relief, knowing he could relax now that you were here.

After all, you were Bokuto’s good luck charm as the boy tells you cheesily, pressing one last kiss on your forehead before running onto the court, feeling like he could conquer the world.

MIYA ATSUMU

As soon as his fists close, all cheering comes to a stop. That is, expect for yours. Your voice is the only thing Atsumu can hear in the silence, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Briefly, between the eight seconds he has to serve, his eyes glance over to you, where you’re shouting from the sidelines. Atsumu’s eyes connect with yours and he feels a wave of confidence wash over him.

There’s nothing he can’t do when you’re here. He’s reminded of that time and time again as he delivers a perfect serve to the other side. The sheer power of the hit leaves everyone shocked, even over the racket, above all the noise, Atsumu can only hear you. Your voice fueling him again and again until finally, the game is over and he has the privilege of hearing you cheer up close, twirling you in his arms as you shower him with kisses and praises.

“That was amazing, Tsumu!” Your eyes shine up at him, your chest swelling up in pride. And Atsumu grins, knowing there’s no better feeling than what he’s experiencing now.

“Thank ya,” He says sincerely, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

SUNA RINATRO

His eyes are focused, his face dull and showing no signs of outward pleasure- that is until he hears your voice. After delivering a nasty spike, the crowd erupts into cheers but that’s not what catches Suna’s ears.

No, what catches his attention and causes the tiniest bit of emotion to flicker onto his face is you, hearing your voice amongst the hundreds of others in the stadium.

You’re the only one that matters, Suna tells himself, eyes immediately searching for you.

When they find you, grinning and wearing a jersey that has 10 written on it, Suna can’t help but feel himself smile, a low chuckle leaving his lips as he briefly waves to you in the stands.

‘You came,’ He mouths, pleased but pleasantly surprised.

‘Of course,’ You mouth back, ‘I wouldn’t miss it for the world.’

It was then that opposing team and his own teammates notice something different about him. The slightest bit of change in his demeanor. A spark of determination in Suna’s eyes as he rotates to block again, a newfound motivation.

Suna’s never cared much what other people thought. But now that you were here, he was determined to show you that they were in fact the best. He was determined to make you proud of wearing that jersey, determined to make you proud of him.

KAGEYAMA TOBIO

Kageyama is solid. No amount of noise is enough to distract him from playing his best. His thirst for victory conquers all, and you cheering for him only increases that thirst.

The minute he goes to serve he can hear your voice from the sidelines, cheering the loudest for him even though nine other girls were cheering with you. The way his name falls off of your lips is like fire, sparking Kageyama to try even further.

The roar of the crowd can’t throw him off, but the sound of your voice sure can motivate him. When he hits the ball, there’s a deafening silence as everyone stares at him in shock.

A perfect serve, and Kageyama smirks as you begin cheering again, jumping up and down in excitement.

“You can do it Tobio! I believe in you!” You scream out again, waving your pom poms again. There’s a brief second where Kageyama turn his head ever so slightly to look at you, and he gives a little nod to let you know he hears you and yes, he’s gonna give it all he’s got.

A silent smirk is shared between the two of you, the King and his Queen who gives him all confidence he needs to score another point.

OIKAWA TOORU

He’s cocky, knowing he’s got the cutest little cheerleader hyping him up on the sidelines. He wastes no moments to show his appreciation, turning towards you and waving every time he serves or scores a point.

All the girls are jealous, all the guys wanna be him as they see you in your Aoba Johsai cheer uniform, yelling out Tooru’s name like he was only one on the court.

For you, he was the only one on the court. The one your eyes were constantly trained on, the one you were constantly cheering for.

Oikawa swears that you’re some kind of good luck magnet- as long as you’re there he can never hit a bad serve, set a bad ball. Everything goes so smoothly that it’s no wonder Seijoh wins, sweeping the floor with their opponents.

You’re the very first one that Oikawa sees. As soon as the whistle blows, you drop everything and run into his arms, laughing gleefully as he peppers you in kisses.

“You were amazing out there Tooru,” You tell him honestly, “I couldn’t look away.”

“Well, how could I not be? I had the cutest little cheerleader rooting for me,” He chuckles, flashing a wink at his teammates who simply groan, knowing how unstoppable he was whenever you were there to praise him.

[stratiotis-nth]

Ever since Cas came back and turned human, it would seem he’s stopped giving a shit about literally everything. When Dean noticed this new aspect of Cas’ colorful personality, he had made himself paranoid that Cas would suddenly start flirting with him on the regular now that his big confession was out in the open.

So while Dean was scared shitless, he was confusingly disappointed when Cas didn’t do that at all.

No. The first thing the ex-angel did after surviving another encounter with death was start a Shotgun war with Sam.

And no, not the bang bang kinda shotgun.

“Shotgun!” Cas practically bellowed down the corridor as the three of them were getting ready to get dinner.

“That’s not fair, Cas! I’m in the bathroom!” Sam complained through the closed door. Cas ignored him completely as he strode past and ducked into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean, who had been desperately trying to stay out of this war, just gave Cas a sideways smile.

“Y’know, the rules are you can’t call shotgun until you actually see the car, Cas.” He told him, his lips tugging up in amusement and…just happiness that Cas was close.

“Until Sam demands to implement this rule, I will abuse his ignorance.” Cas replied, smiling softly. Once again, every time Cas won the passenger seat, Dean wanted to ask what was with his sudden obsession with it. It wasn’t like Cas hadn’t been stubborn enough to claim it before he became human. He wondered what changed, why Cas suddenly cared about seating arrangements. But, as he had been doing ever since they got Cas back (again), Dean bit his tongue. He didn’t want to overwhelm the newly human with the tsunami of questions he had.

Sam griped the entire way to the diner, grumbling about being squished even though Dean knew there was more than enough space. Cas sat next to Dean, watching the trees amble by with a serene, totally unaffected smile on his face. Pleased as a pickle. Dean was fighting his own internal battle between his burning questions and undying amusement at Sam’s plight.

At the diner, Cas sat next to Dean. That much was hardly anything new. The two just naturally gravitated towards each other, and after Dean caught himself drifting mindlessly towards Cas more times than he could count, he stopped giving him grief about personal space.

Cas’ thigh brushed up against his almost the entire meal. Dean pretended not to notice, but internally, he was melting into a puddle of bi panic.

In the parking lot, Sam was quick to call shotgun when Cas got distracted by their waitress catching up to him and giving him her phone number. Dean was too busy bristling and snapping at Cas to hurry up to even notice Sam was sitting next to him.

Cas sulked the entire ride home, the waitress’ number stuffed into one of his pockets. Dean tried not to think that maybe Cas was saving her number for another time.

On Saturday, it was Dean’s turn to go on a food run. Sam was busy working a ghoul case with Eileen, so when Cas wanted to come along there was no yelling match over the front. He ducked into the passenger seat and just about blinded Dean’s poor weak heart with a smile that crinkled his nose.

They fought over eggs for about twenty minutes in the diary aisle. Dean win by threatening to give Sam exclusive access to shotgun. Cas relented with a glower that could have smote demons if he still had his grace.

Eventually, Sam did implement the rule about only calling shotgun with the car in sight, and as the weeks went by and Dean’s silent journey is self realization unfolded, the war at escalated. Now, neither of them could call shotgun without all three of them being in sights of the car. It had gotten bad enough that Sam and Cas waited impatiently for Dean in the garage, staring expectantly for him to round the corner so they could have their yelling match.

Cas nearly blew Dean’s eardrums out, bellowing “SHOTGUN!” loud enough to drown out Sam. He angrily opened his mouth to argue when his phone started ringing.

“It’s Eileen.” He said, his back snapping straight and immediately answering the video call. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Can you give me a ride?” Dean could hear Eileen’s voice over the tinny speakers. “My car broke down and the nearest shop is two hours away.”

“Where are you?”

“An hour away from you? It was supposed to be a surprise.”

Dean saw Sam’s face soften, the tension of worry falling away. He butted in, sticking his face in view of the camera so Eileen could read his lips.

“Just tow it here. I can patch your ride.” He said. “Sam can take the tow truck.”

“Are you sure?” Eileen asked.

“Course. ‘Sides, those guys won’t give you a fair price anyway.” Dean flapped his hand dismissively.

“Thanks, Dean.” Eileen beamed, and oh, Dean knew that smile. Mischievous and damnit, she had planned this from the start, hadn’t she? Just to get a free repair out of him. Dean squinted suspiciously at her, and Eileen just wiggled her eyebrows.

“Cas and I can pick up the curse box and meet you two back here in a few hours.” Dean said. He saw Cas immediately brighten, having secured the passenger seat.

Cas was looking particularly triumphant as they drove, his knees rocking back and forth in a content, mindless sort of way. Finally, Dean couldn’t hold back the question anymore.

He had done his work accepting the fact that he wasn’t as straight as he thought, that it wasn’t very heterosexual to stare at Cas’ lips or pop an awkward boner seeing him all cleaned up after Purgatory, or completely shutting down every time he died or getting all prickly when waitresses give him her phone number. He was gay for Cas, and he had just gotten around to accepting this. Cas said he loved him, right? so Dean shouldn’t be afraid or rejection or anything. Yeah, no he was terrified.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes, Dean?” He turned to him with that soft smile that Dean wanted all to himself.

“I gotta ask, man,” Dean chuckled a little awkwardly and kept his eyes firmly on the road. “Why are you so determined about sitting shotgun? You’ve never been before.”

“Ah.” Cas hummed, turning back to the road too. “I suppose now I have the freedom to pursue the things I want. Chuck is gone and my deal with the Empty is null in void. I have time to…focus my attentions on other things.”

“The things you want? What, you got a better view up here or something?”

“Well yes, the windshield does allow more viewing space.” Cas agreed. “But it’s not my main goal in doing all this.”

“Then…what is?”

“Dean.” Cas said in that ever patient, you’re-being-dumb-about-this voice. “I enjoy being up here because it allows me to be closer to you. You are the view I most admire, Dean. I’m always so helplessly drawn to you.”

Dean’s mouth had gone a little dry and his grip on the wheel was suddenly sweaty. The silence that fell was deafening. Cas didn’t even look concerned. He just sat there waiting the road as if he hadn’t just said something so…so…soft to Dean.

Helplessly drawn. Like Cas couldn’t bear being away from him. Like Dean was this perfect, magnetic thing that Cas was enchanted by, something worth having around.

With a jerk of the wheel, Dean was pulling over on the side of the empty highway in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. He threw Baby into park before twisting around and staring at Cas.

He didn’t even look vaguely concerned, the fucker. He just gave Dean a patient look.

Dean opened his mouth, and closed it. Did it again, ready to tell Cas everything. Snapped his jaw shut.

Cas watched in cool amusement. Dean felt his cheeks get hot.

“Screw this.” He grumbled to himself, before lunging across the bench, grabbing Cas’ face with both hands, and kissing him square on the lips.

He felt Cas freeze for a moment, probably in total shock, before he started moving.

Dean nearly choked on a gasp as the chapped, warm lips started pushing and devouring, Cas was suddenly the one taking charge, shoving Dean back against his window as he clambered across the seats to get on top of him.

Twelve years of pent up emotions came crashing out in a sudden burst of unstoppable passion. And as soon as it started, it seemed to have stopped. They both were panting, Dean’s jeans were tight and his entire body screamed to have Cas against him again. But Cas had made to move away, putting space between him as he looked at Dean with wide eyes.

He didn’t get very far. Dean grabbed ahold of his jacket lapels and held on tight with an iron grip, keeping Cas hovering inches above him, basically sharing air.

“Wanna hear a secret?” He whispered between heavy breathes. Cas just blinked at him. “I’ve always rooted for you getting shotgun.”

Cas’ kiss swollen lips split into a dazzling smile, and he rewarded Dean with another intense make out session. When they pulled away, Dean found the words spilling out of his mouth.

“I love you too, Cas. You can have me. God, you have had me, for years you have. Can’t believe it took me so long, I’m sorry I made you think you couldn’t have me, I’m sorry it took me so long—“

Cas shut him up with another kiss, and Dean’s ramble faded into a helpless whimper that too was swallowed up by Cas.

“Does this mean I get exclusive shotgun privileges?” Cas asked a few hours later than they finally took the curse box off the poor shopkeeper’s hands. They had arrived nearly an hour late, not that Dean (or his dick for that matter) particularly cared.

“Honestly? Play it up to Sam and he might let you get away with it for a while.” Dean chuckled. Without even thinking too hard about it, his free hand slithered over the bench, grabbing Cas’ and entwining their fingers. Something so small and simple, yet made Dean light up like a sun.

If Cas didn’t manage to convince Sam, Dean sure as hell would.

[ao719]

Extra Baggage

I am participating in @wackydrabbles​ prompts. This week’s prompt is “You’re gonna get us busted!”

A/N: I saw this post last week and I couldn’t stop thinking about how this was something Liam would do. I have no idea what this is, but here we are. Please excuse any errors.

Warnings: Very mild 🍋 mention

Word Count: 1976

This is part of my Always You universe.

Perma Tags (if you’d like to be added or removed, please let me know): @leelee10898​ @zaffrenotes​ @cocomaxley​ @gardeningourmet​ @gibbles82​ @annekebbphotography​ @sweetest-marbear​ @indiacater​ @liamxs-world​ @classylady1234​ @texaskitten30​ @moneyfordiamonds​ @the-soot-sprite​ @ladyangel70​ @esmckenzie​ @emichelle​ @dcbbw​ @burnsoslow​ @bbrandy2002​ @sirbeepsalot​ @choiceslife​ @debramcg1106​ @gnatbrain​ @ofpixelsandscribbles​ @openheart12​ @sincerelyella​ @superharriet​ @aestheticartsx​ @forthebrokenheartedthings​ @kingliam2019​ @indiana-jr​ @bascmve01​ @rainbowsinthestorm​ @darley1101​ @charlotteg234​ @alyssalauren​ @txemrn​ @neotericthemis​ @queenrileyrose​ @emkay512​ @kat-tia801​​ @marshmallowsaremyfavorite​ @gkittylove99​ @choiceskatie​ @forallthatitsworth​ @queenjilian​ @walker7519​ @speedyoperarascalparty​ @hopelessromanticmonie​ @iaminlovewithtrr​

Liam’s lips trailed along her jaw as he pressed her back against the door of his closet. One hand kept her arms pinned in place above her head by her wrists as he hooked the other into the band of her jeans and his fingers teased the top of her panties; he smirked against her neck when she let out a soft moan.

“Shhh,” Liam playfully admonished.

“Liam,” she mewled.

“You need to be quiet.”

“You need to stop teasing.”

“You shouldn’t have gotten dressed after your shower,” Liam said as he nipped her bottom lip with his teeth before kissing her. “You just made more work for me.”

“I thought we stayed up so late last night because you wouldn’t have the time this morning.”

“I’ll be gone for a whole month. Did you really think last night -- as incredible as it was -- would be enough?” Liam’s hand expertly flicked open the button of her jeans before pulling down the zipper, allowing him to dip inside the lace. “It’s never enough when it comes to you.” He created a V with his fingers and slid his hand up and down, stroking her between them at a tantalizing pace, drawing another moan from her. “You’re gonna get us busted if you keep making all that noise, love,” he whispered against the tender curve of her neck before his lips pressed against her pulse point.

“They’re still asleep,” she hissed out a breath.

“Well, they’ll stay asleep longer if you keep quiet,” he chuckled, pulling her towards the bed.

****

A little while later, the King and Queen laid in their bed, tangled in the sheets as they caught their breath. Her head was on his chest as she absentmindedly traced shapes against his skin with her finger. Liam glanced at the clock: 7 am. “You were up before me,” he noted.

“I couldn’t sleep. So I got up and showered.” Liam glanced down at her and offered a sad smile. “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll miss you more.”

“We haven’t been apart this long since I was in my program.”

“I know,” Liam sighed before kissing her forehead.

Suddenly, a blinking light pulled their attention. They both smiled as they looked over at the blue lamp on Liam’s nightstand.

Two lamps, once used by the couple when an ocean separated them, were now just down a hallway from each other. One sat in their chambers on Liam’s nightstand, and the other in the twins’ room, set on a table between their cribs. Sometimes, they would tap it just for fun, but whenever one of them would wake in the mornings, they would touch the lamp, sending the message to the other in their parents’ room.

“I’ll go get them,” Reyna said. “You need to shower before your flight.”

****

After the twins finished their breakfast, Reyna took them to the playroom. She stepped out for a moment to check on Liam to make sure he had everything packed.

Liam was leaving for a month-long diplomatic summit in Italy; Reyna had to stay behind and handle the duties in Cordonia. They hadn’t been apart that long since Reyna’s master program days. The twins, now two years old, understood that Liam was going on a trip, but not how long he would be gone. Both Eleanor and Ezra were attached to Liam and hadn’t been away from him for more than a few days at most. Reyna knew after the first few nights, his month-long absence would start to take its toll on them.

Reyna stepped into their bedroom and saw Liam putting a few last-minute items into his suitcase. “Not taking this one?” Reyna asked as she stepped up next to him and gestured to a large empty brown leather bag on the floor.

“No. I took the smaller one. I don’t need the big one.”

“Do you have everything you need?”

“Yes,” Liam nodded. “I believe so.” He turned and looked at her before pulling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head.

“I have something for you,” Reyna said as she stepped back, offering Liam a curious smile. She took his hand and led him into her closet; she opened a drawer and pulled out a white box, handing it to him.

“What’s this?” Liam smiled.

Reyna chuckled. “Open it and find out.” Liam pulled the top of the box off and set it down before reaching in and pulling out the wrapped item from inside; unwrapping it, he revealed a silver bracelet. Reyna took it from him and placed it on his wrist. “Now, watch,” she said as she stepped back. She held up her wrist, wearing a rose gold bracelet similar to his; she touched the top of it, and suddenly his bracelet lit up.

Liam’s eyes slightly widened. “Rey …” He looked down at his bracelet and touched the top of it before his eyes snapped to Reyna’s; her bracelet lit up. “It’s like the lamps,” he grinned.

“I found them and figured it would be discreet enough to bring along with you on trips,” Reyna chuckled.

“I love it,” Liam smiled. He looked down at his wrist and hit the top of his bracelet again, watching Reyna’s light up when he did. He stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands before leaning down and capturing her lips in his. “Thank you,” he whispered. “It’ll make being away from you a little easier, but not much,” he said before kissing her again.

Liam and Reyna were interrupted when a tiny hand fisted the bottom of Liam’s shirt. “Daddy, up!” Eleanor said as she tugged the fabric. Liam smiled as he bent down and scooped Eleanor into his arms while Ezra toddled towards him; he shifted Eleanor to one side before leaning down and lifting Ezra with his free arm.

Reyna smiled affectionately at the three of them. “They’re going to miss you.”

Liam kissed Eleanor’s cheek before resting his forehead against Ezra’s. “And I’m going to miss them. So much.”

Just then, Liam’s phone went off; he slightly turned, gesturing for Reyna to grab it. She pulled it from his pocket and looked at the screen. “Bastien said the car will be leaving in 10 minutes.”

Liam sighed and crouched down, setting the twins down. “Daddy has to make sure he has everything for his trip.” He kissed their foreheads before standing up, and the twins ran from the closet. Liam pulled Reyna into his arms, giving her one more lingering kiss before they stepped out.

“Liam,” Reyna said quietly, grabbing his arm to stop him. He looked at her and then followed her gaze to where Ezra was lying inside of the large leather bag on the floor. They watched as Eleanor climbed in beside him, and the two began giggling from inside the bag while saying ‘bye-bye’ and pulling at the sides in an attempt to conceal themselves. “They think you’re taking that bag with you,” Reyna whispered through a laugh.

Liam looked at Reyna and winked, silently telling her to play along. “Alright, I think I have everything!” he said as he stepped up to the bag. He pretended not to see them as he zipped it almost all the way shut before lifting it by both ends; the bag started to shake as a flurry of giggles erupted from inside. Liam tried not to laugh as he hoisted it into his arms; Reyna grabbed his garment bags and suitcase, and he followed her out of the bedroom.

When Reyna opened the door to the south wing, Bastien was waiting on the other side; the unstoppable laughter from the bag the King was holding told Bastien everything he needed to know. He smiled as he took Liam’s bags from Reyna, and she followed him out of their quarters with Liam behind her.

The bag continued to shake and giggle as Liam carried it down to the waiting car. He gave Reyna a knowing look, and she nodded. Liam gently set the bag down in the back seat and shut the door before walking around to the other side. “Just go around the front,” he whispered to Bastien before slipping into the vehicle.

Bastien got into the driver’s seat and cleared his throat. “Are you ready, Your Majesty?”

“Yes,” Liam nodded. “I have my bag right here.” He playfully patted the top of it, causing tiny squeals to come from inside.

Bastien started the vehicle, and Liam covered his mouth to muffle his laugh as the ones from the bag grew louder. They slowly started to drive around the large circular driveway at the front of the palace. After a couple of times around the circle, Liam leaned forward. “Wait. We need to go back.” Bastien went around once more before rolling to a stop in front of the steps.

Reyna opened the passenger side door, where the twins continued to giggle from inside the bag. “Did you forget something?”

“I did,” Liam nodded before getting out of the car; he walked around to her. “I didn’t say goodbye to Eleanor and Ezra. Where are my little prince and princess?”

“I don’t know,” Reyna responded. “I haven’t seen them anywhere.”

Two little hands poked out from the opening of the bag and began wiggling, and Liam and Reyna both laughed. Liam pulled open the bag, staring down at the twins’ upside-down faces with a grin. “There you two are!” he chuckled as they sat up. “What are you doing inside my bag?”

“We go buh-bye,” Ezra squealed as he turned to face his parents.

Liam’s heart sank. “Not this time, buddy,” he said sadly. He lifted Ezra into his arms and kissed his cheek before handing him to Reyna. He turned and lifted Eleanor and kissed her cheek, but when Reyna reached for her, she turned away. Eleanor, more attached to him between the two, nuzzled against Liam’s chest. He rested his cheek against her head for a moment as he rubbed her back before kissing her hair. “Daddy has to go now, princess.”

“No go buh-bye,” Eleanor whimpered.

“Look at daddy,” Liam said softly. Eleanor lifted her head from his shoulder, and her big, tear-filled blue eyes met her father’s; he raised his hand and tucked a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I might have to go away for a little bit, but part of me is always right here,” he pointed to her chest. “And right here --” he tapped a finger to her lips, causing her mouth to scrunch up in confusion “-- because you have daddy’s smile. And right here on Ezra.” Liam reached over and tickled his son’s belly, eliciting a rumble of laughter from him as he wriggled in Reyna’s arms. “Because he has daddy’s laugh. So no matter where I am, I’m always here with you, too.”

Ezra leaned over, and his stubby finger gently poked his sister’s chest where Liam had pointed. “Daddy!”

“That’s right, buddy,” Liam smiled before kissing Eleanor’s cheek. He knew neither of them really understood what he was saying, but someday they would. Reyna reached for Eleanor, and this time, she went to her. Liam looked at Reyna with a twin on each hip and smiled; he kissed their foreheads before pressing a soft kiss to Reyna’s lips. “I love you.”

“We love you, too.”

“Lub you,” Eleanor and Ezra spoke in unison.

Liam smiled. “I’ll call you when I get there.” He kissed each of them once more before sliding into the vehicle; they waved until he disappeared from view.

Reyna turned and headed inside, setting the twins down in the foyer. As she followed them up the stairs, a flashing light on her wrist caught her eye; she smiled, tapping the top of her bracelet, returning Liam’s ‘I miss you already.’

[intheticklecloset]

Team Bonding (Haikyuu!!)

Primary Universe

Summary: It's game night in the Karasuno gym, and Noya is determined to have some fun with the first-years during Truth or Dare - especially the usually quiet Yamaguchi!

Word Count: 1,216

~~~

Noya sat cross-legged in the circle of boys, chin in his hand, unintentionally glaring at Yamaguchi. The libero was at a total loss for how to mess with this particular first-year.

The team was gathered on the floor of the gym, having scheduled tonight as a “chill out night” rather than practice as a way to relax before heading off to their next round of games. They were currently playing truth or dare, and up until now, Noya had found it easy to challenge the first-years in different ways that would amuse him and push their limits a little.

For Hinata, it was daring him to stay quiet until his next turn. The redhead had struggled but managed to do it, which the libero had to admit he was impressed with. He didn’t think even he could do that. With Kageyama he’d dared the setter to do ten push-ups in ten seconds. He’d just barely made it. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi – up until now – had always copped out by asking for “truth” rather than a dare. But finally the latter had decided to be a little braver and accept a challenge from Noya, which elated the second-year…until he couldn’t think of anything to do.

I don’t want to traumatize the poor guy, he thought. He’s way less intense than the other first-years, and this is his first dare, so I don’t want to scare him into never doing another one. How am I going to do this?

All of a sudden he remembered that fateful night at training camp a couple of months before – the one during which he and Hinata had been woken up by Yamaguchi’s silent crying in the middle of the night and joined forces to reassure him and make him feel better. Noya grinned. He had something to work with now.

“I dare you,” he said with a smirk, “to let me tickle you for two minutes without trying to stop me.”

Yamaguchi’s eyes widened. He made a little noise in the back of his throat, cheeks turning pink, eyes darting to the others around him nervously. “I d-don’t know if I can…”

“You can do it,” Noya replied, half-encouraging, half-teasing. “How hard can it be?”

Beside him, Asahi snorted on a chuckle.

The libero punched his shoulder. “Well, Tadashi? You going to do it or not?”

Yamaguchi swallowed, squeezed his eyes shut, and nodded once. “Y-Yeah. Okay.”

“Great!” Noya crawled across the circle to his underclassman, observing the smiles around them as he gently grabbed onto his sides and squeezed, easing him in gently. Yamaguchi squeaked and brought his arms in instinctively, but Noya tsked at him. “Ah-ah! Can’t stop me, remember?”

“I’m nohohohot stohohopping you,” the pinch server replied through his already unstoppable giggles. “I’m juhuhust protehehehecting myself.”

Noya hummed. “I guess I didn’t say anything about that, did I? Well, if you make it too hard for me to tickle you, that will count as a forfeit. Oh – has anyone got a timer up?”

Too distracted by the cute scene in front of them, not one person had thought to do so. Daichi announced he’d do it and quickly pulled out his phone, setting a timer for ten seconds less than two minutes for Tadashi’s sake, as Noya had already been going for about that long.

“Aw, coochie coo, Tadashi~” The libero teased with an easiness that surprised Asahi, knowing how susceptible his smaller friend was to teasing when he was on the receiving end. Yamaguchi giggled himself to the floor, doing everything he could to not push Noya away. “You’re pretty ticklish, huh, Tadashi? I can really see your freckles when you blush like that.”

“Stohohohohohohop!” Yamaguchi pleaded, arms shaking from the effort to hold still when the libero traveled up toward his underarms. “Plehehehehease! No fahahahahahair!”

“Never said I couldn’t tease you~”

For another few moments Noya tickled without hindrance, but once he got to the pinch server’s underarms Yamaguchi couldn’t help but clamp down, trying desperately to keep him out somehow. To both of their surprise, that was the moment that Tsukishima shifted from where he’d been seated on his friend’s left, reaching down to grab Yamaguchi’s wrists and pull them above his head.

“There,” the blonde said evenly, seeming completely uninterested in what was happening right now. “So it’ll be easier for you to win the dare.”

“B-But – buhuhuhuhut it tihihihihihickles even wohohohohohorse now!” Tadashi squealed, his giggles turning into laughter when Noya finally descended on his now exposed underarms. “Ahahahahaha plehehehehehease, nohohoho! Noyahahahahaha!”

Noya chuckled, scribbling gently but crazily along his underclassman’s ticklish spots, keeping him in constant mirth. He tried to exchange a mischievous glance with Tsukki, but again, the blonde didn’t seem the least bit interested. He merely held his friend to the floor without another word.

“Hohohohohohow lohohohohohong?!” Yamaguchi cried after another several seconds of tickling. His cheeks were growing pinker by the moment.

Daichi replied, “Just another minute. You’ve got this, Tadashi.”

The others in the circle voiced their agreement – especially Hinata, who was just as excited about this dare as Noya seemed to be. Tadashi, for his part, merely squealed and squeaked and laughed helplessly, twitching when the libero moved back down to his ribs and belly, eventually reaching behind him to squeeze his knees.

“NOHOhohohoho! Not thehehehere – Noya, not THEHEHEHEHEHERE!!” Yamaguchi shrieked, actively struggling against Tsukki now, who only held him tighter. “NAHAHAHAHAHAT THE KNEHEHEHEHEHEES!!”

“No? Not here? Not riiiight here?” Noya teased, reaching under his knees to knead at the sensitive undersides. “This is a good spot, isn’t it?”

“PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! I GIHIHIHIHIHIVE, I GIHIHIHIVE!!”

Daichi called over the noise, “It’s only fifteen more seconds, Yamaguchi! You’ve got this!”

“NAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!” Tadashi tossed his head back and screeched with laughter. Noya dug into his knee pits harder, determined to push the first-year a little more but not so much as to overdo it. “PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!! I CAHAHAHAHAHAHAN’T!!”

“Five!” Daichi called, and the rest of the team joined him in counting down to zero, at which point the libero let up on his tickling attack and got off of him, ruffling his hair playfully.

“See? You did it, man. That wasn’t so hard, right?” he giggled.

Tadashi let out a few leftover snickers of his own as Tsukki released him and he sat up, trying to pretend like he wasn’t blushing like crazy and totally unbothered by all the teasing smiles he saw facing him as he looked around the circle. “Y-Yeah…not so bad.”

They all laughed as Noya went back to his spot, and Yamaguchi may have noticed the slight pinch Asahi gave his side if he weren’t being nudged by Tsukki, his attention drawn to the blonde, who gave him a look that would have appeared blank to anyone but him. Tadashi smiled gratefully at him, nudging him back. He knew what that look meant, and he couldn’t be happier for it.

Physical affection isn’t really my thing, Tsukki told him without words. But I’ll still help out whenever I can because I know you like tickling. I’ve got your back.

Yamaguchi beamed. As the game went on, he grew more and more confident that he could take on other dares, and eventually Tsukishima joined him in that endeavor.

The night ended up turning into one of his happiest memories.

[equestrianwritingsstuff]

Inspired by this prompt by @primarybufferpanel

Hero getting summoned to the hospital. Turns out villain has them listed as Next Of Kin

Warnings: hospital setting, motorcycle crash, mentions of bombing.

~

"Hello. I am here for...," Hero looked down at the piece of paper where she scribbled down the information that she spontaneously received only an hour before. "Civilian?"

"Civilian," the receptionist tapped some unknown words into her computer, squinted her eyes, and looked up at Hero. "You are his cousin, correct?"

Well, um...

That was not what Hero expected to hear.

"Uh yeah," Hero shook her head slightly. She hoped the movement would be interrupted as worry or shock not downright confusion.

Maybe she had to rub it in a little. Make it seem like she really was this civilian's family.

"What happened?" Hero feigned a high-squeaked voice. Maybe she sounded like she was crying, maybe not, but either way the receptionist gave her a kind look.

"Motorcycle accident."

Hero slowly nodded her head, pleading with it to link two and two together. Who did she know that rode a motorcycle?

Who did she know that even had their driver's license?

Heros were not required by law to have driver's licenses. It was mainly because many heros began as teens, but still had to drive around. Hero furrowed her forehead. She had no other friends other than her team.

"Wow, uh..." what was one supposed to say next? She never did this before. All her hero friends care for each other in base. "How bad is it?"

"Mm," the receptionist glanced at her computer again. "It says here that he is in a medically induced coma and is in critical condition."

Coma? Medically induced coma? Oh gosh, it must be bad- horrible even.

"Oh wow," Hero breathed, for once actually concerned.

"Well. Why don't you go. He is in the ICU currently. Room 11."

Hero hurried down the corriders and down the elevator. She ran trough the ICU, nearly missing Room 11.

She just suddenly had this nauseating sensation in her stomach.

Before she busted into the room, she looked at the files.

Severe head trauma, broken tibia (displaced fracture), road rash

Hero gulped and tentatively pushed the door open. Immediately the stench of disinfectants and the beeping of moniters hit her. Hero scrunched up her noise and walked towards the bed.

And there he was.

Villain.

Hero screamed, short and surprised, before she sunk down to her knees and grabbed onto her nemesis's limp hand.

"Villain? Oh, oh my gosh." The tears were unstoppable as Hero clung to Villain's hand. She just stared at it, too scared to look at the injuries or wonder why the doctors put him in a coma.

She made tiny circles with her thumb. Villain didn't respond. He was completely unresponsive.

Hero finally built up the courage to look up at Villain. He had a tube in his throat with some sort of breathing tube also attached to his face. Those tubes fragmented out into other tubes until he looked like Frankenstein.

His bruised, bare chest had heart pads all over it, watching over his weak heartbeat. He had many other moniters on him.

"What happened to you," Hero croaked, drawing herself to lean over him. "What happened-"

"Hero."

The hero turned around, her puffy face visible as a henchman walked in.

"Henchman," Hero regarded the man who entered the room with a concerned face. Not mad or suspicious like they were enemies, but as a source of comfort and information.

"There was an accident," Henchman answered Hero's unasked question. "We were being chased by Other Villain."

Henchman walked over to the other side of the bed and grabbed his boss's hand.

"Hey bro. Wake up for me will you?" Henchman spoke with such tenderness that Hero was drawn to him. "You don't get to be resting when the rest of us are working-" a small chuckle. "Your words, you know."

Hero sat back down on a chair that she just realized was there. She grabbed Villain's other hand and listened to Henchman's speech.

"Remember when your mum bought you your first gun. You were, maybe fourteen? That was five years ago; anyway, you were jumping with excitement when you showed me and the guys. And we were so jealous." Henchman chuckled again, squeezing Villain's hand tighter. "It was a D7 Scarecrow. $15,000."

Hero parted her mouth and resumed the small circles.

"And then, when you turned fifteen, you got into your first fight. Street fight, nothing special, but that was when you decided to become a villain. To protect other homeless kids from those street thugs."

"Become a villain to protect people," Hero asked, astounded.

"You heros don't patrol the alleyways. People are starving, dying daily."

"But Villain was- is... is- a full-fledged murderer. He is a criminal," Hero pointed out.

"Hmm," Henchman replied. "People change, Hero. Villain took a wrong turn."

The two remained silent for a while. Whether it was minutes, or hours, both Henchman and Hero kept themselves in their thoughts, drifting off periodically to the beeping sounds of the hospital.

That was until Henchman spoke.

"Villain was going to ask you out."

"W-what?" Hero stuttered, glancing down at the frowning face to the tear-stained face of the henchman. She didn't even realize that he started crying.

"Yep. We had it all planned out."

"Planned out?"

"Mhmm," Henchman replied. "Villain is not a simple guy. He wanted to it be extravagant."

"That's quite vague. What was the plan?"

"A bomb."

"A bomb?!"

"Or a firework, I dunno. He was gonna drop it over the woods. Apparently when it was supposed to go off, it would erupt into 'Will You Date Me Hero'. He was also gonna kidnap you to find on top of that abandoned parking garage. So you would see it." Henchman snorted, a mixture of tears and laughter. "It was so stupid."

"Yeah," Hero gave a half-smile. "I can imagine maybe ten ways that plan would've gone wrong."

"Would you have said 'yes'?"

Hero was silent for a moment. It would be very unheroic if she dated a villain. She would lose her job, her reputation, and maybe even her freedom. But, given the circumstance, it would be cruel to blatantly refuse and say, "No, I would never date a Villain."

Because that would just be wrong. Wrong and very rude.

"Yeah. I might've, I don't know," Hero sighed and rubbed her eyes. "Yeah. I just- yeah."

"Hmm."

Hero brought her hand up to Villain's face and brushed the hair out of it. He was so bruised and pale.

"How did the accident happen?"

"I dunno."

"You don't know?"

"That's what I said."

Both were again at a loss for words.

"I hope he wakes up," Henchman's voice cracked.

"Me too," Hero sighed. "Me too."

[cherrysung]

dom antics

pairing: boyfriend!jeno x reader

genre: smut / slight fluff

warnings: soft dom!jeno, very slight degration, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), riding, unprotected sex (stay safe!)

prompts: none.

summary: a pleasant twist is always openly welcomed, but with your boyfriend’s inevitable nature, how will you present the idea?

requested by anon.

word count: 1.6k

note: anon I’m so sorry I’ve taken so long, this is most likely schedule because I’m on a short break to get my life together. when this is posted though, I hope this is what you wanted and I truly hope you enjoy it! and thank you for waiting! ps. I’m unable to add a “read more” option until a bug with my blog gets fixed.

cherrysung’s navigation

Eyes that creased exactly into moon crescents and a smile that made everyone want to squeeze his cheeks were not enough to fool you anymore, but they were small characteristics that also made you fall hopelessly in the beginning. Now you knew, those were meant to be seen, sure—but not what happened behind closed doors—not what happened to you, behind closed doors.

Jeno was far from being the sweet soul everyone thought he was, but at least some of his kindness managed to shine within the endless torture he’d sometimes put you through. Just for his amusement.

Your legs thrashed chaotically and unstoppably on the bed, you still had not even reached your first orgasm, but your boyfriend already had you feeling so riled up with his constant, teasing touches.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even gotten started,” Jeno chuckled with a hint of surprise in his voice. All he had been doing was mischievously kiss and suck at your neck for several minutes while his hands caressed your sides. You now laid on the soft mattress all at his mercy, legs still kicking desperately in annoyance at his lack of touches where it actually mattered—between your thighs. Soaked, and dripping, between your thighs.

“You have been teasing for so long.” You simply stated, rolling your eyes when he once again lowered his head to your neck, slightly wet lips pressing soothing pecks on your sensitive skin.

He continued to suck purples, reds and blues all around your neck and collarbones, occasionally shifting lower in the direction of your bare chest but never fully reaching your hard nipples. All because he felt like it.

You whined once again, back arching until your chest was pressed against his own, and Jeno could only smile at your impatience. He might be hard on you, constantly tricking you into believing you’d be finally receiving a different treatment other than the colorful masterpieces he never failed to leave on your neck, only to then later edge you to extreme heights that had you reaching the sky and touching the bright stars while tears streamed down your face at his unmerciful ministrations.

Still, even with the wet mascara staining your hot cheeks and your body constantly jumping at the oversensitivity while your lips spilled nonsense, there was always a small action of his paired with the rest of his ruthless movements that very slightly balanced everything. As a result, a special and unique moment was created.

“Use your words or I’ll carry on doing this until I force the begging out of you. What sounds better?”

You whined—again—and you had lost track of how many times you had already pathetically attempted to move his hands somewhere else; yet, they always returned to their previous position on your waist.

“P-Please Jeno, touch me! I’m so d-desperate for you to touch me.” The words left your lips in stutters, absolutely drowned in impatience you no longer cared how ridiculous you might sound.

Your boyfriend smiled, and there it was again, the eye creasing smile that had made you fall in love with him. Had it not made an appearance during the current situation, your cheeks would’ve immediately been painted pink and your hands would’ve quickly moved on their own to cup the boy’s face and lovingly press your lips against his. Right now, though, all you wanted to do was slap the look away.

“Yes, princess? Touch you? Where do you want me to touch you? Show me.” He cooed adorably, body still hovering over yours as he lovingly pecked your cheeks and forehead.

You nodded, gently taking his bigger hand in yours and guiding downwards; down, down, down, until it was innocently resting over your warm heat, barely convered by your sheer, lace underwear. Silently, you moved his remaining hand up to your lonely tit before locking eyes with him, the gaze enough to let him know just how much you wanted this.

He wasted no time in tearing the fabric off your pussy, but you were too far drunk on his touches to muster out any complaints. Instead, you whimpered more, absolutely impatient after being teased for so long.

“You’ll have to shut up if you even remotely want any of this, you know?” He whispered sinfully in your ear, fingers running up and down through your wet folds playfully. “My pretty, little slut.”

Jeno plunged two fingers into your hole with no warning whatsoever, setting a fast pace right away that had your legs thrashing around the sheets once again and both your hands covering your mouth to stop any sounds of pleasure from spilling. He curled, and caressed your sweet spot; he knew all your weaknesses and favorite places better than you ever could.

Your back continuously arched off the bed, clit occasionally rubbing against his wrist every time you raised your hips. His free hand left your breast, instead replacing it with yours before taking hold of your legs and wrapping them around his neck. In no time your boyfriend was diving into your pussy, tongue swirling around or llicking at your sensitive nub and folds that shined with your juices, all while a third finger was added into your clenching walls.

“J-Jeno, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered, unable to remain quiet any longer as you pinched at your nipples in ecstasy.

“Nonsense.” He replied, a whine leaving you when all ministrations came to a halt. He moved his face away from your cunt, all for you to admire the light sheen of your wetness on his chin and pink lips. “You’ll cum with my dick.”

You nodded desperately, if it weren’t for the current scenario he would’ve surely laughed at how impatient you were for his cock. Yet, he didn’t, because he was just as excited to fuck you deep into the mattress and tell you how good of a girl you are. Right?

A thought that had been on your mind for a few weeks now struck you once again, and you fiddled with your fingers nervously as you scanned over the boy who was currently undressing himself.

He must’ve noticed your sudden state of daze, hand gently guiding your chin so your eyes would stare back at him. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked once, twice; eyes immediately looking elsewhere before you confessed, “could I try riding you today? If you aren’t fine with the idea then we can just forget it though—”

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Your eyes locked with his brown orbs, the slight nod of his head and the smile that adorned his lips enough to assure you.

Soon, you were straddling Jeno, his hands gripping at your waist as you lowered yourself down onto his angry cock, the tip red and swollen as precum ran down the sides.

Moans left the two of you as you took all of him, a groan falling off his lips once he was fully settled deep inside your warm walls, the feeling heavenly and like none other he had felt before. Now, he wondered why he hadn’t asked you for this any earlier.

“Baby, you take my dick so well. So full of it. Good fucking girl.” He gritted out, lips gingerly kissing at your neck before nuzzling his face into your tits.

You began moving ever so slightly, slowly moving up and down his dick to test the waters. You had no idea what you were doing, but it felt incredible for the both of you. The tip of his dick kissed at your sweet spot with no problem, eliciting whimpers that rumbled from your chest and shocks of shivers that ran down your spine.

Jeno continued to suck on one of your nipples, your movements becoming faster and faster by the minute, and in no time—you were bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick as if you had been doing it for years.

“Fuck!” He groaned, letting you take full control of the pace while the bed creaked loudly, the sound of skin slapping and your unholy sounds the only thing that echoed between the four walls you were in. “You are doing so well, baby, so so good.”

He could only bask in the feeling of his cock sliding against your slick walls, constantly reaching the deepest parts of your heat deliciously as it clenched around his throbbing shaft.

“J-Jeno, I won't last much longer—”

He caressed your sides gently before thrusting up into your hole, and you wordlessly thanked him with a passionate kiss as the burning in your thighs gradually went away. Jeno pulled you closer to his body, loving the feeling of your tits bouncing against his chest before bringing one hand to your clit, rubbing quick circular motions and eventually prompting your much awaited release after so much teasing.

His hands held your shaking body tenderly, rubbing at your back soothingly as his movements abruptly stopped and ropes of his cum filled your hole, the white substance trickling down your thighs not too much long after.

He sighed, hips slightly grinding into you while you rested your face limply on his shoulder, pressing light kisses on your cheeks as the both of you came down from your highs.

“You should ride me more often.” Jeno smiled, carefully moving your body off his member and laying you down on the fluffy sheets. He threw on some new underwear and sweats and returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth to clean the dried juices from your thighs.

You smiled back at him, eyes threatening to flutter close as you jumped at the oversensitivity whenever the cloth got too near your heat. “Really? I thought you wouldn’t like the idea since you always like being in control.”

“Correction—I’m still in control, that’s why I’m letting you fuck me.”

“Of course.” You snorted, watching him get rid of the cloth before joining you on the bed, immediately snuggling up to him and resting your cheek on his bare chest.

“We should probably take a shower soon.” He whispered, fingers running through your hair.

“Later. I know what a shower together usually means, you pervert.”

“You know it. I love you.”

[bigballofstress]

Pickpocket (Avengers x Child!Reader)

Description: You have been living on the streets for years, and over these years, you have become incredibly good at pickpocketing.  Unfortunately for you, though, you picked the wrong target one too many times.

Part 2 if you guys want it, just let me know!

Chin up, shoulders back, even steps.  My heart is calm, my breaths slow and measured, and every muscle in my body is relaxed.  In other words, every last inch of me screams that I am a confident, kind young lady without a care in the world.

No matter what anybody says, looks really are everything.  Every time you meet someone new or even just pass by them on the street, your mind makes a snap judgement about them.  Now, don’t get me wrong.  I’m not saying that everyone you meet is prejudiced or anything of the sort.  Those snap judgements can easily be changed with an open-minded person, sometimes without even needing a whole conversation.  Still, that doesn’t change the fact that when you see a well-groomed person in a suit, your mind automatically thinks they are successful, and when you see someone coming at you with a hoodie covering their face and their hands in their pockets, you automatically tense up.  None of that is your fault, and actually it’s probably a good thing that you would be wary of people who are acting rather suspicious.  Really, the only issue with these immediate ideas of every person you see is the fact that it makes people like me -- people who understand how these momentary impressions work -- able to take advantage of them.

It didn’t take long to realize I had a talent for it.  I already looked the part, -- a helpless, adorable little girl -- I had a surprising knack for staying calm under pressure, and as much as I hated the old bitch, my caretaker had given me all the tools I needed.  She was a stickler for proper manners, so I learned how to speak, sit, and walk like a “proper young lady.”  Plus, her insane rules about tiny meal portions and too-early curfews taught me to be light on my feet as I often sneaked downstairs to grab a roll of bread at night.  Yes, I had everything I needed.  The only real hurdle was actually deciding to do it.  I never really wanted to be a bad person.  But the world is a heartless place, the city even more so, and by the end of my first week, I knew what I had to do if I was ever going to survive.

So, I started working -- oh, and by the way, no matter what you think, it is still a job.  I put my time and effort into a certain task, and I obtain money because of it.  I don’t know about you, but that certainly sounds like a job to me.  And it was easier than I thought it would be.  Within about a day, I realized that people saw me as sweet, innocent, and harmless -- no, more than that, they wanted to see me as harmless.  Because if I wasn’t harmless, then that meant their world was even more screwed up than they thought.  I learned quick, and by the end of the year, I had perfected my technique.  It was simple: avoid all conversation if possible, and if absolutely necessary, smile and point out the farthest adult man within reason as my dad before weaving through the small gaps in the crowd, preferably around taller people, so they couldn’t see or follow me.  I only got caught once or twice, but I’m grateful that I did.  It forced me to learn perspective, that I needed to know more than just how to talk well.  So, I learned how to run through a city.  And now, I’m practically unstoppable.  

As I take my even, not-too-fast-but-not-too-slow stroll down the sidewalk, a small, ambiguous smile decorating my lips, I can see it in each person’s eyes as they walk past that I have completely embodied my character.  My arms swung with a practiced nonchalance as my eyes flickered from one person to the next, each time going through a mental list as I weighed the chances I had of succeeding on them versus how likely they were to catch on and calculated the amount of time that both of these events would likely take to happen.  Finally, after a few minutes of this practice, one of them caught my eye.

He was larger, more muscular.  Guys like him were  a gamble.  Often, a man of his appearance simply cared a bit too much about his appearance.  Still, every now and then, they look like that because they been trained, and while past training usually meant they had no practice running in a city, it also meant that he would be much more jumpy and alert to his surroundings.  However, his deep, loose pockets with the corner of his wallet just barely sticking out and the thoughtful gaze as he surveyed the buildings tipped the scales further and further in my favor.  The wonder in his eyes just screamed tourist.

I gazed forward with an absentminded look in my eye that I’d spent months perfecting in the mirror while keeping him clearly in my periphery before bumping into him.  As I hit him, two of my fingers simultaneously dipped into his pocket, where my knee bumped against his leg to jolt his wallet up and out.  The moment the warm leather was in my grasp, I forced myself to fall backwards.  Before I could hit the ground, though, I felt one of those strong, muscular arms had wrapped itself around my waist and was helping me back up.  

My jaw clenched for half a second.  This wasn’t good.  His reflexes were too quick to have just worked out at some random gym, which meant my hunch was right: he had been trained.  And that meant that I needed to get out of there fast.  I wouldn’t be able to slip the wallet back in his pocket without bumping into him again, and that would only make me look even more suspicious, so I quickly emptied it of all of the cash behind his back and slipped the bills into my sleeve before tossing the piece of leather on the ground a few feet away.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern evident in his eyes, and immediately I decided on my personality for the day -- bright and bubbly but proper.  Gently, he released his arm from its position on my waist once he knew I had regained my footing.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I quickly apologized, my left hand shooting up to cover my mouth in fake shock while my right hand carefully dropped the money in one of my own pockets, all the while watching every last one of his movements for any sign of suspicion.  “It was all my fault.  I wasn’t paying attention where I was going.”

“It’s ok, really.”  He scratched the back of his neck.  “I wasn’t really looking where I was going either, so it was partially my fault, too.”

“Well, thank you for catching me, sir, but I really have to go,” I smiled at him apologetically.  “I’m supposed to meet back up with my dad in about five minutes.”

“Oh, no worries,” he responded kindly before sneaking a glance at my old, slightly ripped clothes, the concern still dancing in his eyes.  “You’re sure you’re alright, though?”

“Absolutely!”  I dismissed.  “Thank you again!”

“Um, yeah, no problem.”  We both started to walk away.

I waited patiently as I listened to his retreating steps.  1... 2... 3... 4... and then-- “Hey, mister!” I called, bending down and grabbing the piece of leather from where I had tossed it earlier.  “I think you might’ve dropped your wallet!”

The man turned back, shocked, before jogging back towards me.  “I didn’t even notice,” he mumbled to himself.  “Hey, thanks, kid.”

“My pleasure!” I chirped.  “Now, sorry, but I really have to get going.  See you around, sir!”  I quickly jogged off, allowing myself to get lost in the crowd before he could even have a minute to fully understand what happened.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“I told you guys the world wasn’t such a bad place!” Steve called as he entered the living room of Stark Tower.  The rest of the Avengers looked up in surprise.  They had been having this argument for the past three days, with Steve insisting that there were still people who put others first living in New York while the entire rest of the team tried to convince him otherwise.

“Alright, show your work,” Tony leaned back against the wall, watching the captain with curiosity.

“I met a kid today who couldn’t have been older than 16.  I was trying to remember what the city looked like before I went in the ice, and I accidentally bumped into her.  She then spent the next few minutes constantly apologizing and saying it was all her fault.  And the best part is, after we’d already walked away, she found and returned my wallet.  I hadn’t even realized I had dropped it!”  The 96-year-old man finished with a triumphant grin, leaving the rest of the team silent for a moment.  That is, until Tony busted out laughing.  Steve frowned.  “...What?”

“Steve, honey, check inside of your wallet,” Natasha sighed as she turned back to the tv to watch whatever was on.

Steve frowned, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his wallet.  “I don’t understand; why do you want me to....” He trailed off as he stared at the now empty pocket that only just earlier that day held around 65 dollars in cash.  “She... but how did she...”

Tony slapped a heavy hand on Steve’s shoulder, wiping away a tear from the corner of his eye.  “She scammed you, bro.  And you fell for it hook, line, and sinker,” he grinned before walking back to his room, still chuckling softly to himself at his friend’s misfortune.

------- Time Skip -------

About two weeks had passed since that godsend of a man and I crossed paths.  I can’t remember the last time I had managed to lift 65 dollars off anyone.  That kind of cash can last someone like me a really long time.  But sadly, all good things must come to an end, and after buying myself the first decent meal I’d had in weeks plus a ton of canned foods and non-perishables that I dropped off at the nearest homeless shelter, that good thing ended ended all too quickly.  Which meant it was time I went back to work.

I stepped into the public library, that same ambiguous smile painted ever so gently across my face.  There weren’t a whole lot of people here and there were almost never any big scores, but working here was a lot less guess-work, and more often than not, the target was too engrossed in their book to even notice what I was doing, so there was also much less risk of being caught.

After a quick scan of the quiet room, my eyes landed on the man sitting at one of the long tables, his bag haphazardly laying next to him on the table.  It should be easy enough to grab something from in there, and he seemed invested enough to have his guard down.  He should make for a good target.

I walked into the science section and grabbed a few scientific papers, most of which were generally about to nuclear physics, before walking back to his table and sitting down right across from him.  Scientific papers are the best way to make sure no one has the confidence to talk to you.  I opened the paper that I had read a hundred times and started pretending to read it once more, my left hand resting on my cheek as my right hand slowly made its way towards the bag.

“Excuse me.” I glanced up, pausing my movement towards his back but still being careful not to react too quickly and retract my hand.  I didn’t want to draw his attention to what I was doing, and if at all possible, I would still like to come out of this with something to show for it.  As I met the glasses-clad, clearly intelligent eyes of the man in front of me, it was easy to figure out what my personality should be -- shy, smart, and above all else, kind.  “Is that Schippers’s work?”

I blinked in surprise and allowed a soft smile to spread across my lips.  “You know Stefan Schippers?”

“Yeah, his work in antimatter is amazing,” he grinned fully now, his eyes lighting up and making him almost look like a completely different person.  “Particularly regarding his research in collisions.”

I grinned back, taking note of how his eyes were now trained on mine, instead of glancing around like before.  Maybe I should’ve started a conversation before -- clearly it was a good distraction for him.  Well, either way, it’s going to be easier to lift something off of him now, so I guess I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.  “I completely agree.  His work is amazing,” I giggled softly, glancing down at the table before looking back up at him, a slight red hue now painting the apples of my cheeks as my hand slipped inside of his bag.

“I was honestly surprised to see you reading that paper, actually,” he chuckled nervously.  “I’ve read it at least 20 times, but I figured I was the only one.”  I laughed lightly, slipping what felt like a wallet out of the bag and tucking it under my arm.

“Trust me, I’ve read this so many times, I’m afraid the library is going to have to replace it because I’ve worn it out so much.  You know, if you’re interested in Schippers, you should read some of Dr. Banner’s papers,” I laid my left hand on his arm gently while my right arm swung back over to me, pushing the wallet into my lap.  “As much as I love Schippers, Dr. Banner’s work is unparalleled.”

The man chuckled nervously again, ducking his head a bit.  “You really think so, huh?  How old are you anyways?  I don’t see a whole lot of kids brushing up on nuclear physics.”

“I’m older than I look,” I casually brushed off the question.  I was not about to give up any personal information, fellow science geek or not.  “Oh, by the way, do you have the time?”

The man glanced at his watch.  “About 6:00.”

My eyes widened in shock.  “You’re kidding, it got that late?!  My dad’s gonna kill me!”  I gasped and quickly stood up, catching the wallet in my left hand and slipping it into my pocket.  “It was really nice meeting you, sir, but I have to go home.  I really liked talking to you, though!  I hope we can meet again!”  I hurriedly gathered the papers and rushed off, waving with a broad smile.

“Oh, uh nice meeting you... too...” he tried to respond, but she was already well out of sight.

-- 3rd Person POV -- 

“What the hell?” Bruce mumbled, digging through his bag.  The pizza had just arrived, and he needed to pay his share.

“What’s wrong?” Natasha glanced at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I could’ve sworn I put my wallet in here, but now I can’t find it,” he frowned, continuing to search every last nook and cranny of the old bag.

“Don’t worry about it, buddy, I can cover you if you’re short,” Tony shrugged.

“That’s not the issue,” Bruce frowned, finally giving up and tossing his bag to the side in frustration.  “That had my credit card, my driver’s license, and my ID for Stark Tower.  If it’s lost somewhere, it could be a real problem.”

“When was the last time you remember having it?”  Clint mumbled through a full mouth of the piece of pizza that he’d already shoved in his face.  Natasha rolled her eyes and wiped off the bit of spit he’d gotten on her in disgust.

“I was at the library.  I used my library card to check out some books,” he responded confidently.

“Again?” Clint asked, once again through a mouthful of cheese and marinara sauce.  “What, do you live there or something?”

“Ok, now walk us through exactly what happened after you checked out those books,” Natasha suggested, doing her best to ignore her best friend.

Bruce sighed and nodded, sitting down.  “I checked out my books, then walked over to one of the tables to start reading.  Then I talked to that teenager for a little while about some of Schippers’s theories before she ran off--”

“You talked to a teenager about Schippers?  And she actually understood?”  Tony asked, lifting a brow in surprise.

“Yeah, she even recommended I read Dr. Banner’s work in the same field,” Bruce chuckled.  “I thought it better not to tell her who I was, but according to her, Banner’s work is ‘unparalleled’.”

“Damn, the kid knows her stuff,” Tony nodded, impressed.  “Did she say anything about--”

“Boys,” Natasha cut in.  “The wallet.”

“Ah, right,” Bruce mumbled apologetically.  “Anyways, after she ran off, I kept reading for a few minutes before leaving, too.  Then I came back to the tower and got up here just in time to decide on ordering pizza with you guys.”

“Did you use the subway?” Natasha asked.

Bruce shook his head.  “No.  I figured since it was such a nice day out, I would just walk home.”

“How did you enter the building?”

“I ran into Steve downstairs, and we came in together.”

Steve, who had been silent up until this point, finally spoke up.  “This teenager... Was she about 16?  With (H/C) hair?”

“What, you think it’s the same girl who totally scammed you the other--” Tony started, getting ready to take part in his favorite pastime of making fun of Steve.

“Actually, yeah, she was,” Bruce answered, his eyes wide in realization.

Before anyone could say anything, Tony’s incredibly loud laughter filled the room.  “Holy shit, you guys both got scammed by the same teenager!  How does that even happen?!” He wheezed, laughing so hard he could hardly breath.

“Hey she seemed like a nice girl!” Bruce defended.  “How was I supposed to know she was robbing me?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a genius or something?” Tony asked, tears streaming down his face now.  Bruce opened his mouth, trying to come up with something but came up blank.  A heavy hand landing on his shoulder knocked him out of his stupor.

“Just let it happen,” Steve sighed, his eyes cast down as he shook his head in sympathy.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a week since I had spoken to that science nerd in the library, and I was still pissed.  Seriously, what kind of grown man only carries around 4 dollars and 36 cents?  Well, apparently, that weirdo did.  I had thrown out all the cards and IDs to at least sell the what looked to be leather wallet to a pawn shop, but apparently the thing wasn’t even leather!  All of that time, wasted for a measly 12 bucks.  I’ll say it again: I was pissed.

So, now I was back out working again, because the money I’d made was barely enough to buy a few snacks that I had to portion out over the course of the past week.

As I walked down the sidewalk, still grumbling softly to myself about what had happened, I saw him.  

Tony freaking Stark.

I grinned.  Maybe my luck was getting better after all.  I mean, a billionaire who’s famous for having, shall we say, questionable morals?  After all, it’s not exactly nice to sleep with as many women as humanly possible before tossing them away like they’re nothing.  I mean, sure there’s the whole iron man thing, but he’s still kind of a dick, let’s be honest.  And while I usually tried to refrain from taking anything major in case my target doesn’t have a whole lot of money or the object is sentimental, billionaire jerks are fair game.  And the best part was, I didn’t even have to read him to know the part I was going to play.  Tony Stark would only ever fall for one personality: sarcastic, quick-witted, and strong.

His head was down, buried in his phone, so I casually walked towards him, picking up an old cup of coffee from one of a nearby cafe’s outdoor tables, before smacking into him head-first, spilling the coffee everywhere.

“What the hell?!”

“Oh my god!” We both yelled at the same time.

“Oh c’mon, kid, this is silk!” Tony continued to shout, staring down at the coffee covering his chest.

“Hey, I’m not the one with my head buried in my phone while walking through one of the busiest cities in the world,” I snapped back.  “And you’re not the only one whose clothes got ruined.  This is cashmere!” I lied through my teeth.  It was a ratty old sweater that I’d bought for about 3 dollars at a thrift store.

Stark scoffed.  “Do you have any idea who I am?”

“Yeah, you’re Tony Stark.  That doesn’t change the fact that my parents are gonna be pissed about me ruining a hundred dollar sweater,” I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms defiantly.

That was when he finally glanced at me and my coffee-stained outfit.  Stark sighed and put his fingers to the bridge of his nose.  “Alright, I’m sorry.” Wait, what?  Since when does the great Tony Stark ever apologize for anything?  “I’ll pay for the dry-cleaning, ok?  Just give me your parents’ numbers.”

Shit, that’s not how this is supposed to go.  Ok, new strategy.  A sassy front but a kind interior.

I sighed and shook my head.  “No, it’s not entirely your fault.  I guess I could’ve tried to avoid you better.  Anyways, you got a pen and paper?”

Stark nodded slightly and reached into his inner pocket, pulling out a tiny pad and a fancy looking pen.  I quickly jotted down the phone number and handed it back to him.  Shoot, he looked like he was about to walk away.  I had to act quick or lose my chance.  Time to add one more very important characteristic to my identity: pitiable.  “Hey, I really am sorry.  I kind of overreacted.  It wasn’t cool.  I guess I just got a little nervous.  My dad likes things to be clean, and he can get pretty mad when I don’t follow that rule...” I trailed off a bit, glancing down at my feet.  I shook my head quickly and met the billionaire’s gaze, now filled with concern, again.  “Sorry, didn’t mean to dump that on you.  I just wanted to say thanks.”  I held out my right hand, praying that I’d guessed which hand to use correctly.  As Stark grabbed my hand, I had to hold back a sigh of relief when I saw the watch casually placed on his wrist.

“It was really nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I smiled a bit, with my left hand closing over his wrist while three of my fingers on my right hand undid the clasp on his watch.  Then I pressed down one the buttons on either side of the clasp with my middle finger on my right hand and my thumb on my left hand, making sure to hold the watch in place.  “If you’d like, I’d be happy to buy you a coffee to make up for it.  There’s a really nice café right over there.”  I squeezed the watch tightly with my left hand and jerked my chin towards the store just behind him.  He turned his head and looked, pulling his hand back slightly as he did so, which allowed me to slip the watch off his wrist.  Immediately, I dropped it in my pocket before he had a chance to turn back around.

“Thanks, kid, but I’m good.  I’ll give your parents a call when I get home, ok?”  He said before awkwardly giving me a pat on the shoulder.  “Now go run off and play with some dolls or whatever.”

I rolled my eyes.  “Thanks, but my collection can’t be nearly as big as yours,” I bit back with a slight, good-natured smirk.  “Anyways, I gotta go home and get yelled at by my parents.  Nice meeting you, Mr. Stark,” I called, waving to him as I was already leaving.

Stark shook his head with a small smile.  “Yeah, you too, kid.”

-- 3rd Person POV --

“What, no watch today?” Tony furrowed his brows at Bruce’s question.

“Of course I have a watch today.  I have a watch for every day of the week,” he scoffed, lifting his wrist to show off the rather expensive Rolex.

“Umm dude...?” Clint started.

“Yeah, I know it’s awesome, and no, you cannot try it on,” Tony smirked.  “I have a very strict look don’t touch policy.  These bad boys cost quite the pretty penny, and I wouldn’t want any of you trying to take it from me.”  Clint just shrugged in defeat and unpaused his video game -- it wasn’t his fault his friend interrupted him trying to help.

“Tony, look at your wrist,” Steve rolled his eyes at the pompous man’s antics.

“What, just so I can admire it--” he cut himself off as his eyes landed on the bare skin of his wrist.  “...Where the hell is my watch?”

“Maybe you forgot to put one on today?” Bruce shrugged, going back to his computer as he continued to work.

“No, I didn’t forget; I never forget,” Tony snapped.  “It was there this morning, and now it’s gone.”   He yanked up his sleeve to search in vain for the incredibly expensive missing item.

“Hey, maybe Tony was pick-pocketed, too,” Clint joked absentmindedly before cursing at some ‘dumbass little camping noob’ who kept killing him.

Tony’s eyes widened in realization.  “Holy shit, it was the kid.”

“What?” Steve frowned.

“The kid!  The kid who spilled coffee on me today!”  He shouted.  “I had my watch, then she shook my hand, and now the watch is gone.  She totally took it!”

Clint paused the game again.  “Wait, so basically some kid took your custom watch, which is worth thousands of dollars, right off your wrist, and you didn’t even notice?”  Tony bobbed his head up and down frantically.  “Hold on... You don’t think...” Clint glanced between the three other men in the room.

“(H/C) hair?” Steve asked.

“(E/C) eyes?” Bruce called, suddenly no longer able to focus on his work.

Tony nodded slowly with wide eyes.  Reality crashed down on all three of them.

A wide smile slowly took over Clint’s face.  “So you mean to tell me that three of the Avengers, the Earth’s greatest defenders, got scammed by the same teenage girl in less than a month?”  The three men were silent, each of them staring at the ground as they started to question how smart they actually were.

About 30 seconds later, the silence was broken.  “Nat, you’ll never believe what just happened.  I can’t believe you weren’t home for this,” Clint talked excitedly into the phone while his teammates all slowly left the room to sulk alone.

------- Time Skip -------

It had been a whole month since I had gotten the watch off Tony Stark.  I almost couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw the amount of zeros on the offer the pawn shop had given me.  It was probably one of the best days of my life.  Immediately, I had gone out and bought myself a meal at an actual restaurant, and let me tell you, they weren’t kidding when they said restaurant food is delicious.  Every protein bar and bag of chips in the world couldn’t live up to the food I ate that day.  And with that kind of money, I could be eating like that for maybe even a year!  Still, I knew what I had to do.  

It was almost Christmas.  With the money I’d just gotten, I could afford to buy each and every kid at the orphanage actual brand new presents that year, instead of the crummy second-hand stuff that had to be shared between three or four kids that I usually brought.  So, I went out and blew a good three quarters of my new budget on toys, and not the kind from thrift shops or even the ones from the big department stores.  I could finally get them toys from one of the fancy stores that had display windows.  And it was worth it, too, seeing the pure amazement that lit up those kids’ eyes when they saw there was enough for all of them.  I then spent another quarter of the money on nonperishable foods that I donated to the homeless shelter plus one massive turkey for their Christmas feast. 

After all of that, I was left with around 20 dollars for myself.  Usually I can make money like that last with just a few extra marks, but as the month dragged on and less and less people were out on the streets at night, my budget ran thin.  Eventually, I reached my breaking point.  I’d gone I think four days now without any food.  My stomach growled loudly, begging me to give it something, anything.  I just sighed and receded further into the fabric of my thin, worn down coat that I’d found a few days back by a dumpster -- the coat I used to wear long traded in for a couple spare dollars.  Sure, the wind cut through it like a knife, but hell, it was better than nothing.

I glanced up as I heard the crunching of footsteps in the snow, my heard immediately leaping into my throat at the prospect of there being people out.  I frowned when I saw who they were.  A couple walking together, chatting away about something or another.  Normally, I would never choose a couple to target -- it was too easy for one of them to spot what I was doing to the other -- but I had gotten desperate.  I was freezing cold, and I needed food now.

So, I walked directly towards them and crashed my shoulder into the guy’s, my hand slipping into his pocket.  I thanked whatever higher power was watching over me when my hand came into contact with a money clip.

“Sorry,” I mumbled and slipped my hand back out before continuing to walk at a casual pace away from the two, tucking the clip into my pocket.

-- 3rd Person POV --

“Well that was rude,” Clint huffed, dusting himself off.

Natasha stared at the back of the young girl who continued to walk away like nothing had happened.  “Hey, Clint,” she muttered.

“Yeah?”

“Where’s your wallet?”

“I put it back in my... pocket....” Clint froze when he realized he couldn’t feel the familiar clip in his jacket pocket.  He whirled around to look at the girl, who was already a ways away.  “Hey!  Get back here!”  He screamed, breaking into a run, Natasha quickly following suit.

-- Your POV --

“Hey!  Get back here!”  I glanced back with wide eyes, my heart leaping into my throat before immediately sprinting.

I ran through the snow, turning right and left through back alleys and narrow shortcuts, thanking my past self for never eating well, as my skinny form was able to stay on top of the snow for the most part.  Still, somehow I hadn’t lost the two adults chasing me yet.  They had barely fallen a foot or two behind over the last eight blocks.  My stamina was quickly running out, the malnourishment over the past week finally catching up to me.  I felt dizzy, and my chest burned as I focused on continuing to put one foot in front of the other.  I turned down an alleyway with a brick wall at the end.

“Ha!  We’ve finally caught you!”  The man behind me panted.  I completely ignored him, not pausing a single step as I sprinted towards the wall.

“Uhh, hey, kid?  Rock beats teenager...” He called warily.  I continued to ignore him.  I was only five feet away.  “Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself!” he shouted just before I jumped, pressing my feet into the bricks to launch my further and further up.  I reached as high as I could and just barely caught the edge of the wall with my fingertips.  I swung my other arm up and forced my arms to pull myself to the top.

I panted as I gazed down from the top of the wall, the couple staring back up at me.  “Holy shit,” the man muttered, to which the woman immediately smacked him in the arm.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly.  “I was hungry.”  I wasn’t really sure why I was apologizing.  Granted, I knew what I was doing wasn’t very nice, but I don’t recall ever apologizing before.  Maybe it’s because they reminded me of my parents -- or, at least, what I imagined my parents to be like.  Maybe it’s because I was so dizzy that I couldn’t really think straight.  I nodded slightly to the two before turning around, preparing myself to jump down the other side.

Suddenly, a massive wave of dizziness and nausea smacked me in the face.  I groaned slightly and put my hand to my forehead, trying to get a hold of myself.  Evidently, that didn’t work, because the next thing I knew, I was falling.

Time seemed to slow as I fell through the air.  I probably shouldn’t pass out right now, the surprisingly calm thought entered my mind.  If I do, I’ll most likely just freeze to death.  Then again, passing out would save me a lot of pain from falling.  Alright, I guess that’s it then.  I’ll pass out now and hope I wake up in time to not die.  My eyes fluttered closed just before I hit the ground, the fog in my brain thickening as I finally allowed myself to just give in to it.

-- 3rd Person POV --

Clint grunted as he caught the girl.  He was expecting to fall to the ground with her, only really serving to break her fall, but was surprised to find that she wasn’t even heavy enough to knock him down.  Natasha made her way over to his side, looking down at the little thief in her friend’s arms.

“She’s light as a feather,” Clint murmured with a frown on his face, “and freezing to the touch.”

“She said she was hungry,” Natasha muttered thoughtfully.

Clint grit his teeth and nodded, determined.  “Alright, that settles it.  We’re taking her back to the tower.”

Natasha glanced at him warily.  “You sure?  The others might not be so accepting.”

“They’re gonna have to be,” he stated, already walking back, holding the girl as close as he could in an attempt to warm her up.

[thedevillionaire]

Much Better

A supernatural soap opera moment, Cerberus and Kia, featuring Aera (Sorcery Leader) - and the Demon lord's nemesis**, birchbark. As always, any and all questions welcomed, and thank you endlessly for taking the time to read my fics and meet my darlings. 💗💗 **or one of them, anyway.

-- Aera answers the archive chamber door with a fair bit more force and a significantly more frazzled expression than Kia had been expecting, and she double checks the time because of it. Okay, she’s definitely early, but not super early. Still, these hierarchy meetings often didn’t run to schedule, so…

“Hey, sorry, I can wait if…”

“Oh, gods, you’re welcome to him.” Aera turns to yell over her shoulder, “DeVille! Your much better half is here!” before returning her attention to Kia. She smirks wryly at the sound of a violent sneeze and a muted blessing or two from further inside. “He’s been a total delight.”

She addresses this as much to Cerberus as to Kia, the Demon king joining them at the threshold, more than a little dishevelled, crumpled tissues in hand and any semblance of patience clearly a thing of the past.

“Don’t expect me to appease your ridiculous lack of foresight with unwarranted courtesies,” Cerberus counters, his tone one of vivid, seething finality despite the congestion blunting his consonants. “If you’d given any thought to this…how th…hH… HHAHTSSCHuu!” He pushes chaotic ebony back from his face, sniffles forcefully. “This entire place is an allergen!”

“Entire place.” Aera scoffs. “Right.”

Cerberus blows his nose with the rough impatience of someone who is entirely sick of having to do so, excuses himself all the same, and sniffles again immediately against an itch that refuses to recede. “You have the room temperature set to something just shy of subarctic for reasons I cannot fathom and a level of birchbark usage enough to permeate the damn walls, which frankly should count as an entirety on its own, and as per usual, the place is a dustbowl.” He challenges Aera directly. “What exactly am I missing?”

Kia remains in wide-eyed, silent observance, her attentions fixed, intent mesmeric, on her bonded in beautiful disarray. She glances across at Aera, whose reaction is…very much not the same.

The Sorcery Leader’s reply is clipped, curt. “This is not your department.”

“Of…” His breath snags on urgent need, desperate and overwhelming, and Cerberus against all his wishes is forced to abandon his riposte to consuming physical insistence. He Creates the latest in a series of handkerchiefs he’s completely lost count of now and buries his face in it. “Ah-TSSCH-uu! Ahh-HEHTSCHUU! Goddamn it.” Another determined sniffle and he presses the back of his hand against his nose with significant force, returns to his point forthwith. “Of course it’s not my department! My department gets dusted more than once a… hh-HH…once a centuryyiAAHTSCHHuu!” The relentless tickle escalates demanding, unstoppable, and there’s nothing he can do about it but sneeze again, heavy, powerful. “Hh-AHHTSCHHUU! Gods!” He sniffles repeatedly, infuriated, and rubs irritated, reddened eyes and nose, wills still-hitchy breathing to submit for long enough to conclude with a furious, “And there’s no damn birchbark in it!”

Kia offers him a quiet blessing as he excuses himself and blows his nose again, which he acknowledges with a Mindsent apology laced with frustration.

“I thought you didn’t have a dust allergy. That’s the official line, right? Until you do, that is.” Aera rolls her eyes. “Godssakes, Cerbie.”

Cerberus, with a quiet sound somewhere between a dark chuckle and a snarl, flexes a hand; miniature wildfires dartdancing across his fingers for the briefest of moments the only warning before the chamber door is wreathed in virulent flames, crumbling to smoking ash and embers in seconds.

Aera makes a small startled half-shriek that she quickly redirects to outrage. “Holy crap, Cerberus, what the hell?!”

“Oh, did that inconvenience you at all? If only I’d been able to foresee that somehow and perhaps take steps to prevent it.”

“Seriously?! Okay, fine! Okay! Point taken! Gods! You burnt down my door, you…”

“You know perfectly well you can fix that in minutes. I, on the other hand, am probably going to be sneezing all night.” An indignant sniffle follows, pronounced and determined, though despite his best efforts his breathing remains erratic, unreliable. His brow creases slightly, his attention momentarily diverted as Kia Mindsends him pure sensation sympathy, calmative and gentle, and he meets her gaze in an appreciative, already shaky pause he knows is not going to last.

“I can fix it in minutes eventually! The Create part of it, sure! But I have to measure and prep and redo the whole…”

“Ah-HEHTSHhuu!”

Aera sighs, genuflects ostentatiously before straightening and raising a defiant middle finger. “Bless you, Your fucking Majesty. I’m done,” she snaps, and re-enters the chamber, Creating a makeshift temporary screen where the door used to be as she does so. She dearly wishes she could slam it.

“AHTSSCHUU! *snf!* Gods, honestly!” Cerberus turns his attention to Kia in vexed apology, anger shifting to a frustrated weariness. “Sorry, love. Excuse me.” He blows his nose firmly, rubbing it repeatedly in another futile effort to quiet the demanding itch, takes a deliberately cautious, unsteady breath he doesn’t truly trust.

“Bless you, hon.” Kia moves to him, places a gentle hand on his arm. “Should I even ask how your day’s been?”

“Argued with Aera, sneezed a lot. I’m fairly sure that covers it.” With a sharp, strong sniffle, he pushes newly disarrayed midnight from his face, manages a sardonic half-smile for his bonded. “You, darkling?”

Kia laughs softly, empathically. “Aw, sweetheart. Come here.” She embraces him warmly, wrapping one arm around his waist and reaching up with the other to weave her hand through his hair. On tiptoe, she touches a series of soft kisses to his neck in precursor to honeysultry whispersoft suggestion of never mind all that forget everything focus on me babe just me come here honey come here forget everything else now just me babe it’s alright and a Mindsent sensorial aetherwave of calm, of sanctuary, skin-on-skin heat and she moves closer again, cups his face in her hands, kisses him with lascivious invitation unmissable, relax sweetheart it’s over come to me and all is imagery and infusion suggestion distraction seduction take me home babe in flame and velvet heat and hot tub bedroom hearthside blazing slip between warm satin sheets in early night slowdance splendour sweetheart breathe now babe just me just us and she is perfect, she is haven and boudoir and everything, everything, everyth…

Well, almost everything.

Cerberus, wanting nothing more than to immerse in such pleasures and reciprocate without distraction, is nevertheless unable to do so; with a fleeting frown and helpless inhalation his focus dissolves in sudden desperate need and he stifles two rapid-fire sneezes against his shoulder. “hpt-XCH! hh…HXTchu!” Not enough, it’s never enough, and there’s not a thing he can do save submit. He conveys apology as best he can through watering eyes, brings Kia’s head with one firm arm tight against his chest in protection, and turns to sneeze into crooked elbow, powerful and possessing. “Huh-AAHTSSCHHuu!”

Kia’s pulse spikes and she gasps a constricted, involuntary Mm! and inhales deeply before purring a blessing still more breathless than she’d intended, as her beloved excuses himself with a quiet, exasperated groan, sniffles in unreliable recovery.

Cerberus shakes his head just very slightly, wondering pointedly – and not for the first time – if there’s any way that he can just eliminate silver birch from the face of the Underworld and be done with this nonsense once and for all, and looks at his bonded in consternation. “Love, I meant it when I said I’ll probably be sneezing the rest of the...”

Kia curls her hand around the back of his neck, through his hair, silences his words with impassioned kiss, and Mindsends a resolute, heatcertain :It doesn’t matter.:

“It’s just… *SNF!* ...chances are fairly high that I’ll sneeze on you.” A hitch of breath he forcibly suppresses, knows it can’t last.

:Promises, promises.:

“I…I don’t…”

“It. Doesn’t. Matter,” she repeats, entwining herself around him once again. “Trust me.” Her touch heatseeking, direct, undeniable. “I am going to make everything—” An insistent, inviting certainty infused luxurious and redolent as she switches to Mindsend, the crimson charisma carnal.

:—so much better.:

--

[troublesomeshika]

After all this time, I'm still into you

shikamaru nara x reader word count: 2k warnings: i think there’s one swear word?

You two had grown up together. You’d been the yin to his yang, that was the joke you two always heard. You had energy for days, and he was the laziest person in the village. Although you were able to get him moving, he somehow always managed to get you to mellow out. You were the only one who could pull Shikamaru from his spot cloud watching and force him to play ninja with you. He was the only one able to talk you out of your crazy ideas. He held you back from danger, and you pushed him out of his comfort zone. It was a perfectly balanced friendship.

In your academy days, you were able to keep Shikamaru paying attention in class, even if he did sleep for most of it. He likely wouldn’t have passed without you there by his side, bouncing your leg throughout the class. And whenever you’d get too excited to focus, he was able to ground you and make you concentrate on your work. Once you were placed on separate teams, it was harder to keep up your friendship, but something drew you back time and again, and it seemed to be the same for him. He’d see you running around the village and convince you to take the rest of the day off to watch clouds with him. You’d check up on him if you hadn’t seen him around, usually finding him napping. Forcing him to spar with you was the easiest way to get him up and moving, even if he did beat you most times. He knew how you fought, and even if you knew how he fought, you weren’t really one for complicated plans of attack. You weren’t quite as bad as Naruto, but you also weren’t hard to predict. The loser always bought lunch afterwards, and more often than not, your wallet was lighter after spending the day with him. The few times you’d managed to beat him, you’d held it over his head for weeks, not letting him forget until he’d managed to beat you again in retaliation. Through the years, you maintained this dynamic. No one was quite sure how you could motivate him so well and they’d often shake their heads at your polar opposite personalities, sure that one day the differences would be too much. But he was always your lazy best friend. Then you’d gotten into a relationship with Kiba. He perfectly matched your energy and was always up for a good fight. You two were unstoppable and you’d accidentally caused damage to the village more than once. But as you got closer to Kiba, you began to drift away from Shikamaru. Sure the two of you still got together now and then to swap stories and have lunch, but you had less time to seek him out, and turned him down more and more because of dates with Kiba. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to be friends, but you both had more and more demands on your time, and Shikamaru’s friendship had just...... become less of a priority in your mind. You felt confident that you’d always be best friends though, you’d been through too much together not to be. 

Eventually, your relationship with Kiba ended. You both loved each other, but a good relationship needs balance, and that just wasn’t possible between you two. Luckily, you’d both realized and parted on good terms. That hadn’t made it hurt any less. And so you’d turned to your best friend. Except that, he couldn’t be there. Not in the way you needed him. You’d drifted far, and although there was still love, you just didn’t quite know each other as well as you once did. But he’d reintroduced you to Ino, and you’d quickly hit it off. It began mostly with a mutual hate of Shikamaru’s laziness, but you’d gone on to bond more and more after that. You began to regularly visit the flower shop Ino worked at to go for lunch. Walking in you called out to her, “Inooooo! You ready to go?”

“Yep! Gimme a minute to hang up my apron.” She smiled, stepping to the back room, “Mom! I’m heading out for lunch, the register is unsupervised!” You heard a voice call back, but couldn’t make out the words. “Whatever, she knows.” Ino shrugged, stepping out from behind the counter. She looped her arm through yours. “Where to?”

“I don’t know, where do you wanna go?” 

“I think Choji had mentioned that he and Shikamaru were gonna try out that new barbeque place that just opened- wanna see if they’re there?” 

You grinned at the thought of barbeque, “Sounds good to me, let’s go!” And with that, the two of you strolled off. 

You weren’t excited to see Shikamaru, it was still awkward between you, but Ino seemed to want to hang out with her team, and who were you to stop her just because you were afraid of an awkward silence. As you walked over to the restaurant, you made small talk with Ino, telling her about the mission you’d just gotten back from. “Ugh, I can’t wait till Lady Tsunade sends us out again. I’m so tired of sitting in that flower shop everyday!” Ino groaned, rolling her eyes. “Like, I’m happy to have something to do I guess, but it gets really old really- Oh there they are!” she raised a hand, spotting the two boys sitting at a table. “Hey! Got room for two more?” she pulled you over with her. “Yeah of course, are you gonna pay?” Choji asked, grinning. 

Slapping his arm, Ino sat down next to him. “Of course not, pay for your own food!” She smiled at you, nodding towards the seat across from her, next to Shikamaru. You grabbed the chair and slid it out, sitting down. “So, what’ve you guys been up to on our time off?” Ino started. 

“Nothing much, I learned how to bake which has been awesome. Now I can have cake whenever I want!” Choji exclaimed, smiling. “Nice, Shikamaru?” Ino looked to the boy next to you. 

“Ehh, just been laying around mostly.” Ino seemed satisfied and launched into a conversation with Choji. You chuckled and under your breath said, “Now who’s surprised at that.” You kept your eyes trained on the menu, searching for a meal you liked.

“Yeah well, at least I can relax.” you heard quietly from beside you. 

Your head shot up, looking at Shikamaru. “Oh? Well, there is a difference between relaxing and becoming one with your bed you know.” You cocked an eyebrow at him. His mouth twitched, a small smirk betraying him. “Mmm you’ve got me there. One of these days you’ll run out of fuel and end up sleeping for days, and when that happens I won’t let you forget it.”

“Yeah no, sleeping for days? Sounds like a drag.” You grinned, teasing him just like you used to, this time, feeling your cheeks heat slightly.

He side-eyed you, grinning, “You and your mouth never stop moving, isn’t it troublesome to be always going?” 

You opened your mouth, pretending to be offended, but before you could reply, the waiter showed up to take everyone’s orders. The rest of lunch passed in casual conversation with the table, as you avoided looking at Shikamaru. It felt good to trade insults again, but something was still different, it wouldn’t ever really be the same, and you knew you held most of the blame for that. 

When lunch finished, you offered to walk Ino back to the flower shop. She agreed, and you bade Choji and Shikamaru goodbye. Turning your backs on the restaurant, Ino grinned at you. “So?” You just continued walking, “So what?” 

She groaned, “You and Shikamaru! Didn’t it feel good to be just like the old days? I remember how you two always were.” She knocked her shoulder against yours. “Haha, yeah I guess....” you trailed off, staring at the feet. “I don’t know though. It’s just not the same you know? It’s different. There’s still.... distance between us.” 

Ino rolled her eyes, “You know, I still wonder, how did you two even get so far?” 

“Hah, I don’t. It’s my fault really,” you proceeded to spill the beans on how you’d chosen your relationship with Kiba over Shikamaru’s friendship. “And now we’re basically strangers compared to how close we used to be. I hate it but, it is what it is, there’s no going back.”

She nodded silently before asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss?” 

You chuckled remembering the day. A soft blush covered your cheeks thinking of how embarrassed and nervous you’d been. Shikamaru had asked you after school, and you’d agreed to be his first kiss. You’d been hoping it meant that he felt something for you, but looking back, you knew it was just your schoolgirl crush clouding your thoughts. “Yeah, but that was just because we were both awkward kids and wanted to get it out of the way with someone we trusted, you know?” Ino scoffed. “Hey, Shikamaru was the one who had suggested it. You know he never saw me like that. And I felt that way for like, 3 months tops. Well, okay maybe more like 5 months.” Ino stopped in her tracks. You turned around, staring at her. “What’s wrong, did you forget something?” 

“God you’re dumb Y/N.” She shook her head. “You really think Shikamaru just ‘wanted to get it out of the way’? I wish I lacked critical thinking, you seem so happy.” 

“Hey what the hell?” Your brow furrowed. “He did!! He called first kisses “a drag” and said it was better to just be done with it!”

Ino walked over, grabbing your hands. “Sweet sweet Y/N. So much energy, so few brain cells. He liked you. For a long time. Anyone could see it!” 

You shook your head, laughing, “Ino, I really don’t know what you think you saw, but we were best friends. Nothing else.” “Y/N,” She stared into your eyes, “when you started dating Kiba? He wasn’t just put out because you pulled away. He never actually said it, and he seemed to think he was hiding it,” she chuckled, “honestly I don’t know if he knew. But seeing you with Kiba, and the fact that you pulled away,” she pursed her lips, “it wasn’t a great time for him.” 

You were shocked. You didn’t quite believe her about his feelings, but the idea that you’d caused him so much trouble and hurt brought tears to your eyes, which threatened to spill over. You shook your head and began walking away. “Ino, I just remembered I have some errands to run,” you raised a hand in farewell, “I’ll... see you soon.” 

Your mind was going a million miles an hour, and even though you hadn’t lied, you did have errands to run, you weren’t going to get anything done. You walked, without knowing where you were going. You were lost in your thoughts, and you allowed your feet to steer you wherever they wanted to go. Finally looking up, you found yourself at a familiar clearing. Smiling sadly, you reminisced over the days you’d spent here when you were younger. Sure you were still always going, but your body had gotten better at knowing when you needed to take a break. And now, almost at a breaking point, your body had brought you back here, to the place you’d relaxed a thousand times. This time though, you laid down by yourself, feeling the grass prickling against your back. Staring up at the sky, you breathed deeply, trying to organize your thoughts. Clouds passed by quickly and the wind played with the hair around your face. “After all this time, Shikamaru?” you covered your face with your hands and groaned, “I can’t believe I’m still into you, this sucks. I was so sure it was nothing but a childhood crush, and now? Ugh.” You laid there, slowly drifting off into a nap you desperately needed. When you cracked open your eyes and sat up, the sun had disappeared and only lights twinkled in the village. You sighed, “Get it together, Y/N.” You weren’t sure if you were going to apologize, confess, or something else, but you knew you needed to see him. And so, standing up, you began your walk of shame towards the Nara compound.

･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.   ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

i just really enjoy listening to paramore and writing angst. honestly it’s not even that angsty imo, i was gonna make it worse but the writing gods said not to. n e ways, hope you enjoy!!

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